First Car

1950 Pontiac Fleetleader Special Sport Coupe ( Canadian )

“What was your first car?” the grandkid asked.

I quickly calculated the distance between her birth date and the year of my first car: 47 years. “My first car was a 1950 Pontiac,” I answered. I knew she would think this was an unbelievably distant year. “It was cool,” I added. “It had fender skirts and a sun visor and great big white wall tires. Look it up on the Internet to see what it looked like.”

I didn’t add that you had to shift gears and crank the windows down by hand. But it made me reflect on what we expect from our cars these days.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “first car.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “First Car”

  1. My first car was a white Pontiac. The fake chrome letters spelled Cutlass Calais on one side and Calais Cutlass on the other. Every so often the muffler would slip from it’s bracket and rattle up and down on the rear axle. It was one night, on just such an occasion, that I faced my own mortality in a pair of blazing headlights.

  2. My 1990 Pontiac Grand Am was from the only classified ad I replied to. I didn’t consult a mechanic, and meekly submitted to the asking price. It had navy blue, sparkle-infused paint. 3 weeks later, an oil leak scorched the engine, annihilating the rotten lemon with its deceptively attractive shell.

  3. My first car was a 1973 Datsun 240 zx car that my dad bought for my 16th birthday. It was metallic blue with a black leather interior. The long, sleek nose of the car made me feel like I was driving Speed Racer’s car. My dad knew me better than anyone else on the planet.

  4. I debated with Carl vander Heide for an hour. I gave him all of the reasons he should sell. He would be helping a young boy who worked after school and who also worked on a ranch on the weekends. I told Carl that I only got Sunday afternoon off and that I needed a car badly.

    He looked at me and then over at the old 1924 Model T Ford. He scratched his head and looked me in the eye, “Ok! You can drive it away for $125.”

    “Can I pay you half now and the rest at the end of the month?”

    He roared! “I give up! Get out of here! I’ll see you on pay day.

    That old 1924 Ford was my first car–I traded it for a 1929 Chrysler about a year before the Korean War started.

  5. One of my faborite photos is of me, at seven years of age, smiling in front of our gray1948 Pontiac, the first car my family ever owned. It did not have a fender skirt or a sun visor but it did have beautiful white wall tires. With my front teeth gone missing, I looked like part of the grid.

  6. As I started up the Alpine highway, I felt a sense of pride and power as I surged past the struggling and under-powered Citroens, forgetting for a brief moment about all the other vehicles that were breezing by my powder blue 1959 VW. For that brief moment, I was king of the hill.

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