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Personal Narrative On Chevy Impala

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A particular blazing hot summer day was surely one to remember, as it was the one where my dad and I were finally applying the finishing touches to our 1962 Chevy Impala. Beads of sweat trickled down my steaming face as I cranked down a countless number of bolts into the classic automobile for what seemed like all day. As I fastened the final piece of hardware to the newly painted frame I let out a sigh of relief. My dad walked several laps around the car, inspecting every fine detail, to make sure nothing was missing. The moment had ultimately come where he commanded me to climb into the car, insert the key, and crank the engine over. With a little bit of stuttering from the engine, and a couple pumps of the gas, the stallion roared as it burst into life. Plumes of rich exhaust billowed out of the (thankfully) open garage door, the machine purring like a well nourished feline. The only way to describe my emotion was like a puppy after its owner gives it a new toy, all I wanted to do was play with it. Adrenaline rushed through me as the cold leather seat stuck to my perspired back, and at that instant, I knew all the gruelling work had been well worth it. …show more content…

It was my great-grandfathers and meant a lot to my family. For the seventeen years we’ve had the car and thirteen of those have been spent collecting dust under a ripped tarp in my garage. It was only the summer after my seventh grade year I suggested to my dad that we start to fix it up. For three summers we worked on it day in and day out, and the result was (what I think) the most gorgeous car in the city. I’ve been driving it in the warmer months since the day we completed it. Every time I fire it up the nostalgia and excitement of the first time starting it comes rushing back to

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