<VV> Corvair stories

[Borrrris at aol.com]

Great Corvair stories, guys.  Here's mine. I  wrote this article for our 
local club's newsletter shortly after  joining (less than two years ago.) 
______________________________________________________________________________
  
Corvair memories? Well, I have never  forgotten that metallic green Corvair 
that I saw during the last few minutes of  its existence at a junkyard back 
when I was a car-infatuated teen. That was the  first one I really noticed. More 
about that Corvair later.   
By 1965, when I was 14, there were two magazines I read  avidly: Mad Magazine 
and Car and Driver.  I remember the C&D issue featuring the new generation of 
Corvairs  upon their introduction.  I recall  how positive were their reviews 
of the car, and how sharp I thought the car  looked.  Funny that, years 
later, my  first “good” car was a ’68 Camaro, another car whose looks I loved, yet 
only  recently have realized how very much its styling owes to late Corvairs  
like the '66 I own now. 
And then there are the various other Corvairs that have  briefly crossed my 
path over the years.  I recall riding in a mostly white early that belonged to 
one of the  Assistant Managers at the store where I worked in the early 70s.  
It was “mostly” white because a  significant portion of it was rust.  It also 
needed shocks and a muffler, but the owner was an unpretentious  middle aged 
guy who didn’t seem to care about any of that. He thought it was  great, and 
sang its praises to me as he gave me a ride home one day.  Now, middle aged 
guys who liked driving  at all were not something I had frequently encountered 
before, never mind one  who joyously rowed the stick and drove like a cowboy, so 
his opinion was duly  noted as significant.  
Shortly thereafter, I almost bought a shabby black  early coupe to restore.  
I  spotted it wearing a “for sale” sign at Canales Service in  West Babylon; 
my old neighborhood.  I don’t think I even knew exactly  what model year it 
was, whether it was solid or rusted, or whether it was  roadworthy.  That’s how 
unprepared I  was for the realities I would no doubt have encountered.  I am 
forever grateful to the people at  that shop for turning me on to the existence 
of  LICA, and for talking me  out of buying a Corvair to restore until I knew 
more about them.   
That first Corvair encounter at the junkyard came  along when I was a High 
School kid in search of an engine for the ’62 Chevy  I had bought for only $25 
because – well, because it needed an engine.  Turns out it needed a 
transmission and  electrical work too, so the junkyard ended up getting back the engine I 
had  bought from them, plus a whole car – but that’s another story. As I was 
standing with the yard  manager looking at a potential donor car, a large 
forklift rumbled by.  A small distance away sat this early  Corvair; on the 
ground, on its own wheels, as if someody had parked it there.  Suddenly, with the 
sound of shattering glass, the forklift pierced its side  windows, lifted it up 
by its roof and lumbered by with it dangling, on its way  to the crusher.  I 
said nothing; but  I was thinking a dozen thoughts at once.  Did they really 
mean to do that?  That car didn’t look too bad at all.  I wonder what it 
needed?  Didn’t look like it needed anything I  couldn’t have taken care of.  That  
would have been a cool car to have. Oh, well, too late now. 
Too late for that one, anyway.  Fortunately there are still a good  number of 
others that have managed to evade the forklifts. 
Matt Maloney  
('66 Monza coupe  110/PG)