Below is something I wrote in 2012. While this is not a picture of my first car it is very similar as it is the same year, make, model, 4-doors,etc. Also, it was not yellow, green it was. There was nothing like that first set of wheels for a teenage. It meant many things but it meant......freedom as never before.
LA
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Just some thoughts:
I bet there’s not a guy going that cannot recall his first car.
Mine. Not an old yellow but old green 1950 four door Chevy. I got it in May of 1960 the last month of the year of my high school graduation. Walters Chevrolet used car lot in Farmersburg, Indiana. Paid $225 dollars for it. Really kinda an ugly lookin’ thing but it was my first wheels and young boy’s first wheels, well there’s nothing ugly about whatever that vehicle might be.
It did have dual spots and a radio with rear seat speakers. AM only radio as FM in car radios was yet to come about. It had five buttons you could push to change stations and lit up really pretty at night. In looking back it probably was one of the best cars I ever owned. Certainly for the money. It would not be long when I thought it was time to upgrade my transportation and I bought a 1955 Ford Crown Victoria. Mistake. Bad mistake. That car in the words of a Texas cattleman that car “was all hat and no cattle.” Meaning it was in looks only. I traded that car after it “blew-up” for a 1954 robin egg blue four door Chevy. For the next four years that car and I struggled through life. We did, really did.
I kid you not when I graduated college in May of 1964 I sold that car for $35 dollars. A neighbor told my dad he needed a “piece of junk” to drive back and forth to his work, a car he could not hurt. My dad told him, “My son has just what you’re lookin’ for.”
But the good news is in May of 1964 I bought the car of my dreams. A 1959 Corvette. It was love at first sight. But every so often I think back to my first car that old 1950 Chevy.
She weren’t much to look at, she weren’t’ much to ride
The floorboard was patched up with paper and tar/ I really was something in my old yellow car
An American boy with his hands on the wheel/ Of a dream that was made of American steel
Though the seats had the smell of a nickel cigar/ I really was something in my old yellow car
Somewhere in a pile of rubber and steel/ There’s a rusty old shell of an automobile
And if engines could run on desires alone/ That old yellow car would be driving me home
You remember your first car?
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August 16, 2012
Keep On,
Larry Adamson