When I Was 17 It Was A Very Good Year and It Wasn't.

It was the fall of 71…I was soon to be 18…..and  I had a car in my mind that was “the bomb”, oh it was sharp! It had Cragar mags with knockoff spinners,it was Kelly green with white leather interior, it was awesome!  The piece of awesomeness I am talking about was a 1971 Oldsmobile 442.  It was a muscle car….and  I thought that I would be “the man” in this car. It would do 0 to 60 in 5.2 seconds.  This was the car for me.  I knew I could impress anyone with this car…especially the guy I liked…but, when we went to get this car....we passed another car lot and sitting up on a stand....was the car that won my heart. 

It was a flame red 1969 Plymouth Satellite 383.  It had Cragar mags and knock off spinners....and white leather interior.  It was gorgeous.  My dad and I drove it off the lot and it went home to 1127 El Prado.  I had a need for speed and it got me in trouble.  I did some street racing down Dixie with some other street racers.  There was something about getting the flag and hitting the gas.  At this time in my life my dream was to drive funny cars like Shirley Muldowney.  The first three months I owned my car my dad put three sets of tires on it. When he put the third set on he informed me that the next set was coming out of my pocket....needless to say my love of street racing ebbed.  I loved this car....I have to say it was almost my idol.....and  then one day coming home from school…an old beat up Volkswagen Beetle hit me in the rear end… I was stopped waiting to turn into my neighborhood.  Traffic was rather heavy because they were building I-95 at Southern Blvd.....luckily I was waiting for a police officer to pass so I could turn.....the Volkswagon came out of nowhere….she was running 60+ Miles per hour…in a construction zone….the impact was what happened next.  I didn't even know she was coming.  The car hit me so hard that it  knocked the gas tank out from under my car….and knocked the car and I 185 feet.  I had a broken nose, a busted lip, 2 fractured ribs, and a pulled mastoid muscle in my neck….and you got it….the boy I was trying to impress…was not real impressed with my appearance(black eyes, busted nose, bruises and cuts everywhere…and my prized car was totaled.  The wrecker drove me home....and then took my car to the junk yard....my heart was broken.  My dad took me to see it one last time.  It was not recognizable.  My father held me in his strong arms and told me....the car could be replaced....but I couldn't.  I loved my dad for that.  He was right.  It was....just a car.  I was irreplaceable to my parents.....and for the first time in days....I smiled.  It would be alright.