Saturday, February 12, 2011

My Fifty-Seven Chevy

One of my favorite cars is the 1957 Chevy sedan. I never owned one but my brother once did. I wrote the following with his car in mind. Please note that this is entirely fiction and is not about my brother or me.

My Fifty-Seven Chevy

The sign on the windshield said for sale
Struck my eye 'cause she sure was a beauty
Jet black and meant to be mine I could tell
So I just had to have that fifty-seven Chevy

All through my junior and my senior years
Drove the Chevy to ball practice and the dances
Summers drove to the beach with her sitting near
Then on most Friday nights to the stock car races

My fifty-seven Chevy was my best friend
And nobody had any better
We went everywhere together back then

My brother drove me to the railroad station
In my fifty-seven Chevy on that cold day
Promised to put it in the barn for the duration
Watched my Chevy fade as I pulled away

Arrived in Vietnam in the spring of sixty-six
Saw four of my buddies blown away that year
I was the one that called in for the medics
The purpose of the war was no longer clear

Through it all I dreamed about getting back
I dreamed about driving my fifty-seven Chevy
That day that Charlie attacked our bivouac
Thought I'd never more see my fifty-seven Chevy

My fifty-seven Chevy was my best friend
And nobody had any better
We went everywhere together back then

When I got home the whole world had changed
Nobody wanted to talk to a Vet from Vietnam
Everybody looked at me like I was deranged
Got a bottle and drove away in my Chevy sedan

The cop pulled me over doing eighty-nine
He hauled me over to the Cass county jail
The Judge looked at me and gave me time
The next six weeks was nightmares and hell

My brother came for me in my fifty-seven Chevy
Hauled me away from jail but not my misery
Said he had found a job that was just for me
Pumping gas if I could just stay alcohol free

After work was done I stopped for only one
But then that one became a whole lot more
Ran the Chevy into a tree on my way home
I called my brother up from the country store

My brother said that the Chevy was wrecked
We hooked it up and pulled it back into the woods
And left it set there forlorn with all of my neglect
The frontend smashed in under my Chevy’s hood

My fifty-seven Chevy was my best friend
And nobody had any better
We went everywhere together until then

I have done some traveling around since that time
But never traveled in a any car that I have owned
I’ve always walked or I have hitched rides every time
Wanted to see my Chevy but I always postponed

Now those Agent Orange symptoms got me down
And I know that I am just about out of time
'Cause all the VA doctors say it won’t be too long
Before they put me in that dark grave of mine

I left a note tacked inside my brother’s back door
To bring the dozer when he comes back the lane
I’ll be sitting in my old Chevy just like long before
And he can bury the Chevy along with my remains

My fifty-seven Chevy is my best friend
And nobody has any better
We will be together like before again

Copyright 2011 Wayne Nolen. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

1 comment:

Jolandi Kerstetter said...

What a nice poem, haha. It just shows your love for your car. Just like 50Cent and his favorite H2 Hummer, and Madonna with her MiniCooper. Or Don McLean, driving his Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry, LOL.