🔒My Sweet Ride: Little Silver Corvette

I turned 16 years old in 1978, just before the Great Blizzard arrived. My father had placed a deposit with a Chevrolet dealership on what was then a radically newly designed Corvette for $14,500. I had always loved Corvettes. My father had a 1974, 427-horsepower orange Corvette, which I was praying he’d give to me when I turned 16.

He sold it instead, on the theory that a 16-year old had no business behind the wheel of a car that fast. He was probably right. But I was crushed.

So I was thrilled when he ordered this Corvette that I later learned was part of a limited edition and with a special two-tone exterior paint job: silver on top and a dark gray bottom. Chevy called it their 1978 Silver Anniversary Edition.

It arrived in April — my father pulling into the driveway with the brand new, exquisite just-out-of-the-box Corvette. The gurgle from the muffler was a rich deep bass, the shine of the finish was blinding and I must say my still-young father looked pretty good swathed in the embrace of its oyster-white all-leather interior, with its intoxicating new-car aroma.

As a 16-year old Trumbull High School nobody, I was awestruck.

Over the next few months, my father would let me take the car to Trumbull High every now and then. Naturally, I seldom made it to class those days. Instead I would pull into the THS parking lot for a “flyby” — and then off and running wherever the roads took me that day.

Needless to say, I had the best car at Trumbull High in 1978 — the only Corvette. My closest competitor was a kid with one of those shiny black Camaros with the gold eagle on the hood. Nice car — but no competition. The Corvette also turned the heads of a few females. Okay, more than a few.

Also in 1978, there was a guy who left Chevy to start his own car company. His name was John DeLorean and his car was the infamous gull-winged, stainless-steel DeLorean.

My father fell instantly in love with this radical new plaything and immediately put his name on the factory wait list.

Well, the DeLorean turned out to be a very long wait indeed. My father got antsy and in the meantime came across a convertible Mercedes that he liked, and bought it. He had a bad back, and getting in and out of the Corvette was tough for him, so while still waiting on the DeLorean he preferred the Mercedes. Before long he gave me the Corvette.

It became my car for real when I put on my Connecticut vanity plate: BING*1.

For years I drove the heck out of that car, even though I still have only 95,000 miles on the odometer. The car has survived so much, including my past marriage (my ex-wife thought I loved that car more than her and wanted me to get rid of it) and then my divorce, when I said, “All I really want is my Corvette.”

It has survived long, cold winters and hot, dry summers parked outside in the elements. Today it is comfortably tucked away in a garage until that first warm May weekend when I will take her out of winter storage. I have replaced the entire interior back to original GM specs, so the oyster-white leather interior is like brand-new once again.

I did install a nice deep bass growl Borla muffler last summer, and oh, what a nice sound this thing now has. It’s loud when stepping on the gas — not annoyingly loud, but it gets people’s attention.

I also put on brand new white letter tires last year as well and that car starts up first time, every time. This 350-hp Chevy engine just keeps on going.

My Silver Anniversary Corvette is now 42 years old. We will never be separated. This car is a piece of my life. If I sit in the driver’s seat, close my eyes, turn on the radio, I can hear the Bee Gees or my favorite group, Chicago, with their song “Alive Again.” All of a sudden, I’m back in 1978.

If there is a way for me to be buried in that car, I’ll do it.

Bing J. Carbone is president of Modern Plastics in Shelton.