Commentary

The night of the silver corvette

September 3, 2026   ·   0 Comments

By Keith Schell

One early autumn evening when I was still in high school, I had just gotten out of the Friday night late movie at the theatre on the main drag. With nothing else happening in town that night that I knew about, I was thinking about heading home. Dad had let me have the car to go out in that night, so I couldn’t be out very late anyway.

As I was walking down Main Street toward the family car, a very fancy vehicle pulled up alongside me. It was a sleek, silver-grey Corvette Stingray with classic ’70s lines — the kind of cool car you didn’t normally see on the streets of my little town. It stopped beside me, and the passenger window rolled down. I was surprised to hear someone call me by name! When I bent down to look inside, I was even more surprised to discover that it was being driven by one of my high school friends.

He had just recently bought the car and was itching to show it off. With an ear‑to‑ear grin on his face, he said, “What do you think of my new car, Keith?” It’s hard to remain nonchalant when you’re face‑to‑face with a car that cool! I was very impressed and told him so.

Beaming with pride and excitement, and bursting to show it off, he asked, “Want to go for a ride?” Wow — was he kidding? He didn’t have to ask me twice.

After I climbed in, we went for a ride around town. Still beaming, he took great pride in showing me all the toys the car had: tilt and telescoping steering, power windows, adjustable power seats, air conditioning, and a top‑notch stereo system for the day. Hey, if I had a car that cool in high school, I’d want to show it off to my pals too!

Interestingly enough, most of the fancy bells and whistles on that high‑end car were things we now take for granted in the average car today. But back then, this was all unaffordable automotive luxury far out of reach of the average buyer.

I had never seen any of this stuff before in any of the cars I had been in at the time and was duly impressed.

My buddy was so proud of his car he was practically strutting in the seat, and I can’t say I blame him. He put in long hours in a summer job and worked part‑time on weekends throughout the school year.

He probably had to scrimp and save every nickel he made to acquire a vehicle of that stature. He’d bought the car used, but it still had the sleek lines and classic nose of the 1970s Corvette Stingray.

The Corvette was still the king of the cool cars back then, and this was one of those cars many guys dreamed of, but few could afford. Plus, a car like this was great for picking up chicks. My buddy even said that some girls accepted dates from him just so they could go for a ride in his Corvette! Hey, whatever works, right?

He was a true car guy, changing cars in school like some guys changed socks — moving up to a cooler car every time he bought something else — until he finally reached the pinnacle of cool car ownership with the Corvette we were riding in that night.

He was on top of the cool‑car world, and I could appreciate how he felt. I wasn’t really a car guy myself, but I could appreciate what he had achieved in high school. For me back then, it was enough if I could talk Dad into letting me borrow our old land yacht to go into town on Friday nights.

For many guys, there is always that one special car that will forever be number one in their hearts — not because it was the best car they ever had, but simply because it was one of the first.

The first car they ever drove, the first car they ever owned, the first car they ever worked on, the first car they ever took a date to the drive‑in movies in, and so on.

You never forget your first car. But in my buddy’s case, he started at the top of the cool‑car world. One of the first cars he ever had in high school just happened to be one of the coolest cars in the world at the time.

Looking back on it now, that night in high schoolwas the only Corvette ride I ever had in my life. And because I had never gone cruising in a car that cool before, I remember it like it was yesterday.

As for my buddy — once a car guy, always a car guy. I lost touch with him after high school, but I recently heard through the grapevine that he built a lifetime career out of selling regular cars to regular people at a non‑Corvette dealership. But if you do what you love, as he did, you will never have to work a day in your life. I hope he did well.

And every now and then, that lone Corvette ride with my buddy still drifts back to me as a happy high school memory from an autumn long gone.

Readers Comments (0)