It was the spring of 1967 and life was about as good as it could possibly be for a young lad of fifteen. I mean really, what's not to celebrate when your days are filled with friends, fun, and the anticipation of the lazy summer days lying ahead. After all, the summer before had been filled with days of baseball, fishing, swimming, and chasing girls....this summer was going to be a blast!
Of course there was another reason for my anticipation of the arrival of this summer, and in particular, that magical date in mid August when I would turn sixteen. Ah, sixteen, that rite of passage, that door to freedom, that open road lying ahead, and driving wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, legally. Yes, life was good at almost sixteen.
But, as always, reality has a way of sneaking in like a heavy fog to cast it's gloom on a young lad's dreams. You see, in my dreams I skipped over the parts that didn't fit. Like the part where we had two working adults in the family who both required transportation. Dad drove his old work truck filled with tools, ladders, and empty cigarette wrappers strewn throughout. Mom, on the other hand drove a big old Buick...truly an "old folks" car. Neither ride was suitable for a "player", not to mention the fact that neither was available to me anyway.
Oh man, what do I do now? A big dose of reality had just slapped me upside the head and I didn't much like it. I started pleading, in desperation I knew, because the dollars were few and far between. There was only one option that would get me behind the wheel this summer, and it meant sacrificing those glorious summer days and filling them with work. I didn't really mind getting a job, but I hated to miss all the fun with my friends.
I found a job with no problem, and as summer commenced I was selling shoes.......on commission. Actually, I was guaranteed $35 per week, OR the commission, whichever was greater. People who know me know two things, I'm very competitive and I'm somewhat stubborn. If you set the standard I'm going to do whatever it takes to exceed it. Did I say I was working on commission...oh yeah, I did. Commissions are great! I found I could really sell shoes.
In no time I had $350 in my pocket, and was on the prowl for a bargain. Unfortunately, so was my dad....looking for a bargain....for me! Dread set in, and so did my stubborn streak. It was a race, and I had to win 'cause I knew my dad's idea of a perfect car for me would be far different than mine. I was thinking '55-'57 Chevy, and let's just say, he was not! My only hope was that I find one first, and I lived in fear that he would win and I would be the proud owner of a '53 Rambler.
"Mom, can you take me to Independence today?" "Why?" "There's a car I want to see, and it might be sold if we don't go right now!" She relented, we headed north, and returned later that afternoon victorious....for me anyway. It was a beat up 1957 Chevy, "in need of a little TLC" the salesman had said. No problem, it had only cost me $95, and I had plenty of money left to pour into that labor of love. So I did. I spent it all to create the car of my dreams.
A lot of hard work and a few hundred dollars later, it had new paint, new interior, and chrome reverse wheels....life can be good indeed when you're sixteen, but what do I know.
What a coincidence Jack, My wife and I went together and saved up $50.00 and bought our first car, you guessed a 4 door 1957 Chevy. The salesman sold it to us because he thought we needed mechanical education, proudly proclaiming "You'll never get it running". Well future father-in-law and I hooked a chain to it and started dragging it home to his house. By the time we had gone three blocks it started and almost rear ended the pull car. We took it on home and discovered the distributor cap was cracked enough that it wouldn't start on its own without being pulled. A few short minutes later that problem was remedied, and I immediately drove it back to the sales place and showed the salesman it was running. Boy did he ever get mad at me, for buying it so cheap. Did I mention this was a mechanic at the Chevrolet garage that couldn't figure out how to make it run? Anyway what a beautiful car I wish I had it still, but alas my mother sold it while I was in basic training two weeks before I got home, I wish I had parked it at my future wife's house instead.
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