[MattPSU]

About a year after we started dating, I was talking with my girlfriends (now my wife) grandfather about cars & trucks. He said, I have something you might be interested in. He was over 90 at the time, and I’m thinking , no way. We slowly walked out to this shed/garage on the side of his house. He opened the doors and that “Halleluiah” song played in my head. It was a 1966 Chevrolet Chevelle, 396, 5 speed convertible. Red with black top & black leather. It was dusty, but immaculate.

He says, “Let’s see if she’ll start. It’s been about 2 years.” I’m thinking, no way is this thing going to start. It fired up on the first try. It just rumbled in this little block garage. I nearly lost it.

I ask if he’d be interested in selling it and if so, what he’d want. He says that they want to put AC in the house, and if he could get enough to pay for that, he’d be happy selling it to me. That would keep the car in the family – everyone knew we were pretty serious – and he knew I’d take care of it. I ask how much that would be and he says $3-4k. I say I’ll take it. I have no idea where I’m going to get $4k, but I’ll figure that out later. He tells me that he needs to run it by his son, my wife’s uncle, since the car was originally bought for him. Rick was never into cars, and hadn’t shown interest in the car in years. We go in to call Rick and he leaves him a message. I’ll have to wait to hear back. Fine with me, I have no way to get it home anyway, and I need a couple days to find the money (aka – beg my dad to loan it to me).

A few days go by and I hear from my girlfriend/wife that Rick doesn’t want him to sell it yet. I’m devastated. Over the next few years, I ask about it on a regular basis and the answers always the same, Rick wants me to keep it. Eventually, her grandfather passes away and Rick inherits the car. Rick and my father in law have a falling out and the car moves farther out of my grasp. Rick moves it to his place where, as far as I know, it’s now sitting under a tarp outside, rotting away. I said numerous times that I can understand that he doesn’t want to sell it to me because of some bad blood (even though it has nothing to do with me or my wife), but that car deserves to be fixed up and driven.

I think about that Chevelle all the time. Every time I see a ’66 Chevy, a red Chevelle, a 396 badge, etc. I remember that day and think about what could have been. - Matt