A Maroon Corvette

BY: Michael A. Aun, FIC, LUTCF, CSP, CPAE Speaker Hall of Fame

Among the many misdeeds of my youth were frequent trips to the Lake Murray dam to "make out" as we called it back then. Later generations referred to it as "sucking face." I don't really know what it's called today.

We used to call it dating. Kids don't call it that anymore…. they just "hang out." Since we never had a mall growing up, we went to Lake Murray to "hang out." The only mall I knew of was the "dirt mall," more commonly known as the local Flea Market. It didn't cost anything to go to Lake Murray, and you could play by your own rules, if you get my drift.

As a child, I worked at the Jaycee Hut located on the grounds of the dam. We sold cokes, snacks, snow cones and other items and all the profits went to the Lexington Jaycees.

I later joined the Jaycees when I became an adult because that's what all young men in Lexington did. All the cool people did this back then, mainly because there was little else to do.

"Making out" at the Lake Murray dam was a right of passage for kids growing up in Lexington. It was like playing football on Friday night, like doing the Senior Prom in the spring or like going the Gibson's Pond to shag the night away on Saturday night.

You could park literally by the lake back in those days. If you were lucky, a full moon illuminated the waters of the lake as you sat next to your honey trying to talk your way into more trouble than you could handle.

You listened to WCOS AM radio in Columbia because that was the station that played the cool music of The Tams, the Drifters, the Temptations and others. I don't recall, but I'm not sure FM radio even existed back then. If it did, I didn't have it in my 1953 flathead six Plymouth.

That old Plymouth was a graduation gift from a friend of mine by the name of George Miller, who worked part-time with me at Ralph Corley's Esso Station at the corner of Main and South Lake Drive (across from the Lexington County Court House). George needed to get rid of the car and he knew the only wheels I had to my name was a school bus that belonged to the Lexington School District Number One.

I couldn't very well date in the school bus. I did hang out at the Caughman-Harman Funeral Home at night where we did ambulance runs overnight utilizing the hearse. There was no such thing as an ambulance service back in those days.

You haven't lived until you've gone on a date in a hearse, but I couldn't take the hearse to the dam… a little too conspicuous and downright deadly for make-out purposes. "Laidback" as I was, I couldn't seem to talk any girl into going to the dam in the hearse. I even used my best funeral director lines… "I'll be the last one to let you down."

But George came through with the flathead-six Plymouth, and I was the coolest guy in my house with a car since I was the only guy in my house that owned a car.

One day the Plymouth died and my dad said he'd help me get a new car. My dad was affectionately known as "Michael A" to all his buddies. He was cool, but not exactly "tuned in" when it came to cars. He came home one night and announced that he had bought me a car. I was so excited. "What kind?" I asked with enthusiasm. "A used maroon Corvette."

You can't know how excited I was to learn that the old man had come through like a champ! Wow! A Vette! I could hardly contain my excitement.

"I have it out front," the old man announced. All my brothers and sisters went galloping out to the front yard to see the brand new Vette.

You have to know that nobody in Lexington except one of the Looney boys drove a Vette. He had one because his dad ran the local Chevrolet dealership.

There, sitting in the front yard, was my brand new "used" car. It was maroon in color all right. And, it was in fact used. But it was not a Corvette… it was a Corvair. So much for the old man's knowledge of automobiles.