NOTE: I have no photos of our Chevette…this is a very close approximation to ours.
(Please welcome our newest Sunday COAL series writer) I have always liked cars and trucks. When I was three, which would be in late 1969, my folks told me I could already identify makes and models of cars very well. How I could do this without being able to read, and why I wasn’t a genius in later life is a mystery . My toys always consisted mostly of Matchbox cars or something transport related. When I was 15 my mechanic brother Phil, 11 years older than me bought and brought back to life a salvage title 1975 Corvette, which he still has to this day 37 years later. It left quite an impression on me.
But it would be many, many years before I would ever get to drive, much less own anything too interesting above workaday cars. My automotive beginnings were much less humble. When I was 15, I completed Drivers Education. My first wheel time after the learners permit was with my with my Dad in a stripped down, rusty, gold 1970 gold Chevelle Coupe. My 16th birthday came and went with no license. Things were tough at that point for the family, there was a recession in the midwest, and insurance was not cheap. When I finally got my license in my junior year of high school, Dad was stingy with giving me the keys. When I did get the keys, it was to go to work or run an errand. I took the bus to school or bummed rides from friends to get places.
And that is how it would be for over 3 years. It would be like this until after my second year of college. Mom got her first brand new car, a stripper 85 Ford Escort sedan. Dad decided to upgrade and bought Uncle Al’s low-mileage and pristine 1981 Ford Escort Coupe, no air conditioning but with a sunroof (!!!). He thought it was a creampuff…but that’s another story. It was a coincidence that we had a third extra car in the late spring of 1986, and it was decided for the immediate future, I could have the 1978 Chevette that had been in family for about a year. This is what the new-to-the-fleet 81 Escort was to replace.
This car already had a rather sordid past within our immediate family. When the 1976 Impala he was driving finally gave up the ghost, Dad needed a new car. And while the need was immediate, it seemed he bought the first car he came across. The Chevette had For Sale sign on it, close to our house, in a shopping mall parking lot, cheap. Dad was frugal and liked holding on to a dime. He believed cars were only for transportation. He did not aspire for anything more than that, and image was not a concern. He was, with a few notable exceptions throughout his life, a GM guy. At rare times he could be impulsive and this was one of those times.
My oldest brother Phil, a onetime dealership mechanic, had a line on a pristine 2 year old 1983 extended cab Chevy S-10 he was encouraging Dad to buy, well cared and owned by one of his best friends, with a cap. But Mom absolutely wouldn’t hear of it. Pickups were for farmers and hillbillies. But I digress. He test-drove the Chevette a total of 2 miles and declared, “it drives nice, I’ll take it”. It was a Saturday, and he went to the bank just before it closed and the transaction was completed.
In very, very short order, it developed a cracked head. Brother Phil’s response to this, over and over was this in a slow, monotone voice : “ You should of bought Richards truck”, when Dad asked about fixing the Chevette. Dad knew he’d botched it on this one. Despite being angrier than angry, Phil, being a good son, dutifully swapped out that block in a service bay on a Saturday and did Dad a major solid. After that, the car was reasonably well sorted by the time I ended up with it after my second year of college.
For me, at this point, I couldn’t care what sort of car I had. For the first time, I had a car I could drive whenever I wanted. Much has been written about the Chevette, a derivative of the GM global T-Car platform, including here. In its 12 year run, almost 7 million total units were sold around the world with slight variations, in various GM brands. In its long model run, there were only minor upgrades to the car inside and out. It was one of the least expensive cars around that year, starting at around $3,500.00. In 1978, economy figures were advertised as 28 MPG City, and 40 MPG Highway, great numbers even by today’s standards. Looking at some old advertising, Chevy didn’t really advertise it as anything more than a basic economy car. Here a TV add sums it up by saying “A lot of car for the money” (see link to ad below).
Back in the mid 80s’, at least here in the rustbelt, this car was everywhere. Winter beaters, high school and college kids or regular folks just looking for basic transportation, and it was an automotive cockroach. It seemed every family you knew either owned one, or had owned one at some point. Some were awful, some were legends, but Chevrolet sold 300,000 of them in 1978. My college roommate recalled driving from Michigan to Florida in one for spring break, pedal to the floor down and back, and it made it back without complaint. Some people drove to 200,000 miles. For others, it was a completely disposable short term car. Our family Chevette would be in this category.
Ours was the a back of the lot stripper, even for a Chevette. It had a 4 speed manual transmission, rubber floors, sticky tan vinyl seats, AM-only radio and sort of a gold/bronze color. Of course, no air conditioning. I cannot recall how many miles it had on it. At 10’ viewing distance, you could say it was in nice shape, but there were dime to quarter sized rust spots emerging on the lower extremities, masked by the color of the car. That would soon prove to be ominous.
So, my driving impressions, despite all the historical bashing were actually quite positive. I taught myself to drive a manual in about a day or so; I can say that the driving experience would have been far worse with an automatic. It was not peppy, but did get out of its own way. Owing to its European roots, it did corner and turn well, as it was barely 2000 lbs. Inside, it was as expected, hard plastic all around, but it was well laid out. There were oddities. Sometimes when you were shifting, the gear shift knob would fling off into the back hatch area…the thread being worn out, so you would have this gnarly bolt sticking out of the shift boot and you’d have to find the knob at the next stop. The horn did not work. The bucket seat bolt cracked several times in the summer on the drivers side and would flop back. You could not turn the fan completely off…on hot days you’d always have a noticeable flow of hot air belching out at your feet.
My job that summer was Park Attendant Supervisor for the City, having to go check on workers in 20 city parks. It was a good gig overall. I was paid 8 hours a day and was on call from 2 to 10, but you didn’t really have to work 8 . They padded it slightly to help cover your gas expenses. Driving at least 30 miles a day, the miserly Chevette was perfect for me. It never failed to start nor left me stranded, save for a time when I flamed it our after driving through a deep puddle after a heavy rain…but even then it sputtered back to life in 30 minutes after drying out.
As it turns out, my days with the Chevette and the cars time in the family were numbered. In August, it was getting close to the time where I’d need to head back to college. I wanted to go see some buddies up in Michigan’s Thumb for an overnight weekend visit. It was about 100 miles each way, an easy straight-line drive up M-53 north through farm country. It was there I tested the maximum velocity of the car on a quiet stretch. Screaming and winding out, it would go about 82 miles an hour, and that was all she had, but it did so without complaint.
It got me there and almost back, flawlessly until somewhere around Imlay City, 40 miles from home, I heard a sudden, horrible scraping sound emitting from the back of the car. I was able to pull into a service station, where a mechanic looked underneath and discovered that the entire rear passenger-side axle strut/stabilizer had ripped away from the unibody structure. The entire axle was now being held to the car at three weakened weld points, thanks to the rust. There was a jagged 12” x 12” hole in the floor as the substructure of the car was so riddled with rust. The car was shot! The mechanics low cost solution: wrap a bunch of intertwined wires underneath, through the hole and over and under the door sill , to hold the stabilizer bar in place, sort of. You could close the door over the wires but he advised against doing that too many times lest you weaken the wires. He took pity on me and didn’t even charge me and I was back on the my way home.
Upon getting home, I showed this to my Dad, a moment I was dreading. “ G*dammit, what the hell did you do up there!?! You were out joyriding and screwing around weren’t you!?!”. I most certainly did not. He was mad, but there was nothing behind it, no real anger, because Dad new painfully well: this car was a mistake from the start. He looked at the “integrity” of the coat hanger fix, and deemed it reasonably secure and knew it would probably get me through a few more weeks of work.
Through the summer, I had some delusions that maybe the Chevette could come back to school with me. Having a car up there on campus would have been nice, but an extravagance. I am not sure how much longer Dad had the car after Labor Day ’86. With his and hers Escorts now in the garage, he really didn’t need it so I’m sure it went right to the junkyard. One thing was a certainty: I was carless once more.
Thanks for this. We had the four door, same year, same color as shown (camel?), Same forgiving manual transmission, on which I, too, learned to drive stick. Dad eventually sprung for after market FM converter and rear defroster. Lots of Little River Band and Fleetwood Mac.
Had my first collision in that car, coming home from underage drinking. Dumb. More forgiving world 40 years ago. Great memories.
Your comment “More forgiving world 40 years ago” made me think of a 1978 movie I’ve seen several times — maybe you’ve seen it, too — called MALIBU BEACH. It was a Crown International Picture. There’s a night scene with the two main male characters where they buy a six-pack from a convenience store and then hop in a Jeep and guzzle beer while blithely driving around and then throwing the beer cans out of said open-air Jeep on to the SoCal highway. The guy doing the driving, James Daughton, was wearing a ‘Crown International’ t-shirt. CROWN INTERNATIONAL used to pump out those young-adult audience movies frequently back then. Others I can think of off-hand were MALIBU HIGH (1979), VAN NUYS BLVD. (1979), THE BEACH GIRLS (1982), et cetera.
—————
I can’t think of many cars a 1981 Ford Escort would be an ^upgrade^ from, but your ’78 Chevette fits the bill! 😀
I enjoyed reading your story, Mr. Carlsberg. Keep up the readable work. Cheers.
OMG my grandma bought one in 84, when I was 15, traded her 72 Nova in on it couldn’t have waited a year so I could have bought it as my first car, really nice, 350 Orange outside, black interior. That chevette was a S#!+ show, never driven a car with such stiff steering and I grew up driving farm trucks. Got my other grandma’s 69 skylark as my first car, restored several over the years, big block conversions.
We had a “Firethorn” red metallic, ’76 2 dr, 4 spd. If not the worst car I ever had, well it was very close! Bought it new and within first week, back to dealer twice for fixes. After moving back to the Midwest from CA I found out how lousy the shifter was in cold Winter weather: it would detach from the shift rail with ease when very cold!
This was one of 2 cars I’ve owned where I never reached even the EPA mpg ratings. I really should have kept the nice lil ’71 Pinto HB I traded on it…$igh…:( DFO
Welcome Carlsberg66, This is an enjoyable first car story. And you mention a number of things that ring true in my life and my family – and probably many others as well.
For example:
“When I was three . . . my folks told me I could already identify makes and models of cars very well. How I could do this without being able to read, and why I wasn’t a genius in later life is a mystery”.
Been there, done that. Of course today, the only way I can identify most new vehicles today is to look at the badge on the grill.
“But Mom absolutely wouldn’t hear of it. Pickups were for farmers and hillbillies.”
Sounds like my mother. She didn’t like small hatchbacks because they were poor people cars. But truth be told, we were not exactly rich, and her favorite used (probably ex-rental) T-birds and Grand Prix were maintenance nightmares for my father and me.
“Phil, a onetime dealership mechanic, had a line on a pristine 2 year old 1983 extended cab Chevy S-10”.
Ahh, the eternal and elusive unicorn, like the beautiful co-ed in college who I just didn’t have the nerve to ask out, but if I had… (well maybe she would have been one of my ex-wives). This also has happened to many of us. The only way to deal with unicorns is to sour-grape these memories into oblivion. Otherwise, they’ll haunt one forever.
This is a very enjoyable COAL that rings the bell on a number of old but still fresh automotive and family related memories. Nice job!
Thanks much! I also enjoyed your series very much. We have, as you will see down the road one thing in common.
“When I was three . . . my folks told me I could already identify makes and models of cars very well.”
My mother told me that when I was a toddler there was no such thing as a short walk to the post office, as I had to stop and examine every single car parked by the road.
My 1st car was a brand new 1987 Pontiac Acadian. Mine was a 2 door, two tone gray & silver “ up level model“ It had an automatic, power steering & brakes, am/fm stereo radio, upgraded 1980`s style velour seats and even a cargo security cover. I had that car from 1987 until 1995 and put around 400,000 KM`s on it. That car was basic transportation at best, but provided freedom and independence for me living in suburban Toronto where bus service was limited. That car always started in the harsh Canadian winters and never broke down on me. When I finally let it go it was due to undercarriage rust. Like the writer said in the 1980`s & 1990`s these cars were everywhere. People often like to trash the Chevette & Acadian, but for most folks they got what expected from them, a cheap, reliable and economical car.
When I visited Vancouver, BC, Canada, in the early 1990s, I decided to hire a car to drive from Vancouver to the several towns on western coast. The car hire agent nominated Pontiac Acadian, and I had never heard of it so I asked to see the car.
Oh, that Chevette! I said, ‘fuck no.’ I ended up with a larger car for same price because the agent realised I would not fit in Chevette, er, um, Acadian due to my towering height.
I’ve never driven or owned a Chevette, but in high school a buddy had an orange ‘76 that we called the Orange Peel or simply the Shove-it. It was a stripper with a 4-speed and an aftermarket cassette deck with speakers from an old TV in the back. Considering the way he beat on it, I’m surprised it held together, but it survived high school and was later replaced with a Pinto. In the early ‘90’s a friend of mine needed a cheap car and he picked up a 10-year-old Pontiac Acadian from a local Ford dealer for $1200 (Canadian). It was in pretty good shape with a 4-speed and slightly above stripper trim. He was able to do a lot of maintenance himself, and when he sold it a few years later he got about what he’d paid for it. An older woman in our apartment building had a black 4- door Chevette until about 5 years ago. It was in nice shape, with only a small patch of rust after all those years – I think it was finally traded for a Toyota.
A good Sunday morning read. Looking forward to your next COAL.
In 1992, I was 21 and my soon to be wife and I had our first apartment. It was very small and affordable, much like our first car together, a 1983 Chevette four door. It was a strange two tone of some sort of pewter and platinum. That is a fancy way of saying beige and gray. It only had 40,000 miles on it. It was unbelievably gutless, with the timing retarded to within an inch of it’s life for emissions. It had power steering and an automatic. Also the wimpiest am-fm you can imagine through one dash speaker. It actually drove pretty smooth and was equipped pretty good for what it was. On our first week of owning it, it had snowed a couple of inches. I started it up and went to the first stop sign of our block. I gave it some gas and it just sat there. No, nothing had broken, it was merely stuck in a small amount of snow. I was in disbelief that such a small amount of snow could immobilize a car. I was able to clear the snow away and went on my way. I then put weight in the back and it improved it. The tires were the skinniest things and very hard so they didn’t have much of a contact patch. On the next day, I started it up, let it warm up a little and pulled away gently. Suddenly I heard something snap under the hood. I looked under the hood and there was the alternator bracket, broken in half by what must have been 50 horsepower at best. I pushed the car back home and stared at the broken pieces. It was that sort of alloy that looks all shiny and bumpy on the broken parts. Such a wimpy piece to do such an important job. Somehow I found my way to the nearest wrecking yard and got a replacement bracket. I installed it and it was fine. This was in the first week of owning it. I was so disgusted by it’s inherent weakness I sold it (for more than I paid, which was nice). I had previously had a 1979 Accord 190,000 miles on it and couldn’t believe that these two cars had ever competed with each other. We then bought an ’83 Cavalier, not in the best shape but felt like more car, and a decent cheap Chevy. I have heard many people talk of their love for the Chevette, but my brief experience was not a fond one. The Cavalier was manual-everything, but we liked it much better. Better mileage, way more power, could plow through snow and I had my minimal amount of man-pride intact. No more Shevettes for me.
“I couldn’t believe that these two cars had ever competed with each other.”
Your disbelief is well founded, since they didn’t compete against each other.
The Accord was sold at much higher price point. Honda’s nearest competition
to a Chevette was the Civic, still at a defacto higher price point since they all sold for over list at that time.
I know my perspective is limited because I experienced most of my cars back then as used, well-used, or used-up. I don’t consider the original prices when they were new. Apples and oranges. (Sometimes lemons) By that standard I could bitch that the Chevette isn’t as fast as the Corvette. People on here give me a wider view and I appreciate it.
Preferable to a Pinto…..but no match for a used Opel 1900/Manta. (Just my opinion.)
A most entertaining opening entry, Carlsberg66!
Looking forward to your follow-ups.
“Back in the mid 80s’, at least here in the rustbelt, this car was everywhere. Winter beaters, high school and college kids or regular folks just looking for basic transportation, and it was an automotive cockroach.”
A very accurate description of the Chevette and probably true in all markets. When I was in college in the mid ’80s one of my buddies, who was from a very wealthy family, mentioned that he was a member of the “Vette Club”. Intrigued, I asked what year Corvette. To which he replied “Not a Corvette, the other vette.” His parents would pay the tuition and rent but no extras, no handouts or spending money. That’s what a job is for. He would say that driving a crappy car is what kept him humble. I helped him push the car a couple of times when he was saving up for a new battery. He always tried to park near a certain ’60s Pontiac because of the behind the grill hood release and he could steal a jump from it. Good times.
Friends of ours kept a pair of “shove-its” going well into the ’90s when junkyard parts became scarce. It was probably 2004 or 2005 when I was at a friend’s scrapyard and two young guys showed up each in his own chevette freshly re-done with nice wheels and the v6 swapped drivetrain. They were looking for chevette parts. Long gone by then.
There is a late model Pontiac Acadian version still running around in my neighbourhood. If I haven’t seen it for a while and wonder if it’s still around it usually makes an appearance. Last time I saw it there was a hole in the exhaust kind of loud and the patina(rust) is getting worse. Covered in freckles and the paint is nearly see through at this point. One day it may spontaneously turn to dust and probably still start.
I recall the 2.8 V6 was a direct bolt-in. Various magazine articles in the 80’s stated the swap turned the Chevette into a delightful sporty compact and suggested GM offer the driveline as an option. Twas not to be, as fun sportiness was not supposed to be cheap
A couple of weeks late to the party, probably catching up, and I was wrong. It’s a Chevette. It has a lived in look.
I helped a friend one weekend at a Chev/Olds dealership. His job was to reorganize their storage lot, to move about 200 scattered new, unsold cars into neat rows. About half were Chevettes. This was 1986, and the dealer was swamped in these little cars that GM had pushed on them to keep the assembly plant going . I drove every model of GM car that day and wondered how the sales staff could possibly shift so many Chevettes when every other model was superior.
Some people will buy just on price, since most of them were stripper models intended to be as cheap as possible. I found them to be slow, rough, noisy, and cramped , although the 4 speed was vaguely amusing. I was delighted to see they all shared the identical instrument cluster as my full size ’79 Chevy van. It was ironic that GM’s biggest and smallest vehicle shared this component.
Re gauge clusters: In 1990-ish, I remember one of the car mags saying the base S10 had better instrumentation than the Corvette. As an owner of a new (very!) basic S10 I remember being proud of my speedometer.
The Chevette could be very different, depending on equipment. Friends had a ’76, stripped except for the “big” 1.6l engine. Since I tuned and maintained their cars at the time, I drove it a little and rode in it a lot. It felt cheaper, slower and more basic than my related Opel by Isuzu, but did not rust as quickly. It seemed like a reasonable alternative to another friend’s ’74 Beetle and much more desirable than a similarly equipped Pinto, Vega or Gremlin.
In the early ’80s, I had occasion to rent a couple of Chevette automatics with power steering. They struggled to keep up with traffic. The suspension or tires seemed to have been softened, as the handling seemed much less crisp. The power steering was numb and the cars wandered. I did have a bit of an adventure with one when it got a flat tire on the middle of the 2-lane Seven Mike Bridge in the Florida Keys. In spite of being unfamiliar with the jack, I don’t believe I have ever changed as quickly as I did that afternoon! Anyway, at that point I could usually rent a K car for about the same money, and I much preferred their extra power and refinement as well as the extra foot space around the pedals.
Craigslist Ann Arbor still has this 13K ’85 Chevette, for anyone looking to relive the era: https://annarbor.craigslist.org/cto/d/1985-chevette-extremely-low/6705777757.html
Like the Pintos, cheap transportation, and one could at least do some of their own basic maintenance. S-l-o-w by today’s on-ramp standards, but we took it in stride.
Quick, someone tell the Duffer Brothers!
$4500 is a crack pipe price considering the propensity of these to rust and it being in Ann Arbor Michigan. $2,000 after a very meticulous inspection for rust would be more appropriate to me.
George, I’ll happily relive the era but don’t think I’d be stepping into the Chevy showroom to to so 🙂 One is supposed to learn from history…I see more ’85 Golfs on the road than I do ’85 ‘Vettes (granted, still not many, but that’d be the likely direction for me at the time).
I see more Bugs on the road (saw one last week) than I do Golf/Rabbits. I can’t remember the last time I saw a 1st gen Rabbit on the move.
Hmm, I think I agree in relation to qty but I do still see Rabbits now and again too out here (but 1st gen Jettas are super rare now), I wonder if Bug/Rabbit is more of a numbers game relative to the quantity sold of each one? The Bug did have an extra 40 years or so on the Rabbit in which to sell.
My stepbrother’s first car was a Volkswagen Rabbit. He got it used in 1988. I don’t know what year Rabbit it was, though. It was white on the outside and had something like blue vinyl on the inside. Probably was a manual transmission — my brain cells are leaning that way — ’cause it seems to me he was always shifting. It ran but it (((rattled))). A lot. And the wind affected the car quite a bit, too. I don’t think he waxes nostalgic about that Rabbit in any way. My Falcon was nowhere near as noisy/rattle-y; that said, the Falcon was a gas hog compared to the much-thriftier-on-fuel Rabbit.
I can’t believe, considering all the cars I’ve managed to buy, have given to me or rented that I never logged driving time in a Chevette. These were everywhere in Arkansas when I was in school at UCA. People bought them because they wanted a cheap to buy gas sipper after the second oil crisis and the nearest Honda or Toyota dealer was two hours away or they were selling for $1000 at a used car lot. The closest I came was riding in my cousin’s while she ran errands in Ft. Worth. My impression was that it was basically solid, but the penny pinchers had taken hold in the interior with the cardboard/cloth door card and hard plastic everywhere.
Welcome to the COAL- miner’s guild, CARLSBERG66!
I have driven some sketchy wheels but never a car that was held together with bailing wire! There was one with the floor replaced using particle board. Hmm– my friend should have upgraded to plywood at least!
Thanks for your well written and entertaining COAL debut!
Well done! Welcome to the club!
The first new car that my brother and his wife purchased was a late seventies Chevette. It wasn’t a terrible vehicle by any means; it had the four speed manual transmission and felt reasonably peppy if you were willing to flog it. They didn’t keep the Chevette all that long; when their second child was born they needed something with more room. At this point I no longer remember what replaced the Chevette, possibly it was an Olds Cutlass.
Not too long after my brother bought his one of my sisters purchased a used Chevette to drive back and forth to school. This one had the three speed automatic and it was an absolute dog; top speed on level ground was something in the neighborhood of 63 MPH. They got their money’s worth out of the little beast though, my brother-in-law ended up driving it to work until the late eighties. By then the Chevette had rust holes in numerous places and, I’m sure, underneath as well.
People tend to remember that first car a lot better than many of the ones that come later. I suppose it has to do with the new-found freedom that comes with having wheels. I’m sure that the fact that one’s first car tends to be a heap on its last legs has something to do with this as well; nothing says bonding with a vehicle more than crawling underneath it in order to accomplish some “field expedient” repair.
Thanks for sharing your experience… much humor and it brought back my memories of the Chevette. We had pool cars in our telecommunications engineering office and – if you had some field work to do – it used to be a footrace in the morning to see who got the twin-stick Dodge Colts instead of the Chevettes.
Back when I worked for the phone company, they gave us a company car to use, believe it was a 78ish Chevette Scooter. Don’t remember if it was a stick or auto, but I do remember how cheap the thing was, cardboard door panels and all!
But it got worse….few years later they gave us a Monza. Started out with a rust spot on the roof, right above the driver. Few months later, the rust went right through the roof and leaked on the driver! Then…duct tape.
Back when you could buy a brand new Chevette, my in-laws had retired to Florida, and I drove our young family back and forth from suburban New York City to see them once or twice a year. There were lots of things that could cause a traffic jam between the suburbs of New York and the southern suburbs of Washington, D.C. However, once south of the fabled Northeast Corridor on I-95, whenever there was any kind of slowdown on the Interstate, inevitably the cause was a Chevette or a Pontiac T-1000 going as fast as it could at the front of a miles-long backup.
My mom had a 1978 Opel Kadett City, even the dashboard looked the same. A true world car.
Thank you for sharing your memories.
Chevettes were a part of my life for several years, in several different ways.
My first memory is the “Chevy Chevette, it’ll drive you happy” jingle that seemed to be on TV a lot when I was a kid, and I also recall seeing them as prizes given away by Monty Hall and Bob Barker. The models on the shows, though probably older than my mother, imbued the cars a sexy aura in my formative years.
One first appeared in my orbit when a friend’s father, who worked for GM, got a bright yellow one their first year in production. It seemed so cool to me, especially in comparison to the dull and ponderous used cars that my father bought for us.
Not too long after that my own father, who at that time sold wreckers and carriers for a local dealership, had use of a demo model that he brought home occasionally in place of the trucks that were his normal fare. This one had two-tone paint, an automatic transmission, and what seemed to be decent upholstery, though I recall that the trucks seemed nicer by comparison despite their bumpier ride.
As a high school student, my economics class took a trip to the Wilmington DE factory where GM built Chevettes. It was cool to walk the floor, talk to the workers, and see the cool machines in action cranking out the cars. The spot welders, which spewed fireworks displays when they grabbed the cars, and the giant vat of primer that the bodies were dipped into were most memorable.
Fast forward a few years, and, midway through college, I got one of my own, a Scooter model that was made with such an eye toward frugality that it didn’t even have a door on the glovebox. The upholstery, to use that word generously, was thin vinyl stretched over cheap foam. It was a good car for me, though, as it was much easier on fuel than the Duster and Pacer that preceded it, and got me to school and work reliably for several years. These were popular cars among pizza delivery drivers, and I remember being a bit jealous of a friend who had one with multicolored stripes. It even saved me money at times, because it rode so low that I could open the door, lean out, and pick up coins that had missed the toll basket on the Garden State Parkway, enabling me to make occasional long trips on a tight budget. I hope that the statute of limitations for toll evasion has passed.
Now that I know more about automobiles, I would characterize its ride as marked by noise, vibration and harshness, but I didn’t know better at the time, and turning up the radio (installed by me, not GM) did the job. In the three or four years I had it, the only non-maintenance repairs were a timing belt, replaced by the dealer under warranty, the clutch, likely due to my driving style at the time, and the starter.
Some years after I sold it, I spotted it in traffic at least twice, notable for a fender dent of my making, working in service to the Lord according to the hand-lettered signs. Even cockroaches have their place in the grand plans of the almighty. I can only assume it has either oxidized its way back into the soil like so much dust, or been cast into the industrial caldron and reincarnated into another machine.
A college friend of mine had a low mileage Shove-it (his most polite nickname for it), given to him by his too-old-to-drive-anymore Grandfather.
A four door, with the “big” engine, 4 speed manual, optional interior and factory air conditioning.
In spite of all the macho male flogging the poor thing received; it never broke.
We both agreed that the best thing about it was the effective air conditioner.
We had a friend who had a manual transmission 2 door well into the 1990s. I recall wondering why Chevrolet did not do some development on these and turn the first version (I like the grille more) into a Chevette Monza like was done for the Corvair which, itself, started out as an economy car. I recall reading that the content cost difference to GM between a Chevrolet and a Cadillac was, like $800; seems to me that a base Chevette could have been upgraded for a couple of $Hun into a sporty rustbucket.
Oh, I remember the really stripper Chevette Scooter didn’t even come with a back seat! I think that was a model to upsell customers into the higher trim levels.
My Scooter, a 1983 if my memory is correct, had a back seat. Perhaps it was an optional feature. A Scooter Deluxe if you will.
My 1983 Scooter had a back seat but no glove box lid or radio(had a black radio delete plate on the dash and a black antenna delete plate on the fender) but it did have factory A/C (that blew cold)
My parents were cultured, stylish and super snobby about American cars. They’d only had foreign (MG TC, Borgward, Sunbeam Rapier, Volvo 122, Datsun 510 and a 1980 Accord). I sincerely had only even ridden in an American car once or twice when our neighbors bought a Pontiac Sunbird. This was ODD for Marin County but it seemed ok to me.
In 1987, I took Driver’s Ed, and our school bought a brand new (the final year for it, I think) Chevette. I had only driven the 1970 Datsun and 1967 122 and the Accord. I got in that Chevette and instantly understood why my parents thought poorly of American cars. It felt older and slower than our 17 year old Datsun! It was actually terrifying to drive -and that’s at regulated Driver’s Ed speeds. I couldn’t believe it was new and approved by GM.
Ultimately, I get that it was a great starter for so many people but man and I get that I “met” the Chevette when it was almost retired but what a trip compared to older, foreign cars, much less, anything from the late 80s. GM has come a looooong way.
a yellow 78 chevette recently appeared parked on a street near me, took me by suprise when I first saw it.
The only shove-it I ever drove was owned by a coworker that we had recently hired away from GM. He had bought all his family cars with GM employee discounts, but he evidently went for the cheapest. The other was a crustacean, er Citation.
Anyway, he went over to Honda/Acura after living in California for a while.
I had a 1983 Chevette Scooter back in 1999-2001. It had about 200,000 miles on it but was taken care of by the previous owner who was the original owner. I had a stack of paperwork for the thing. I knew the guy for years and he was pretty anal about servicing the thing.
I bought it after the 3rd transmission(in 19 years) in my 1980 Malibu started to take a shit. The Bu was kept in the family since it was bought with my grand dad giving it to my dad and I in turn getting it.
I knew the owner of the Chevette and for the princely sum of $500 the car was mine. It took another $500 for MD inspection and taxes and tags but other then the cost of 4 new tires(13inch no less) about 3 months later, it really did not need much. A timing belt replacement, brakes, plugs and wires, oil changes were all it needed. The only non routine maintenance issue was a leaking fuel line. It just needed a new o ring.
It was a pretty good car for what I needed at that time and actually was a pretty good car. It gave me no issues and I still miss the thing.
I traded it in on a brand new 2001 Honda Accord EX which was perhaps one of the biggest pieces of shit I ever had the misfortune to own and the only car that tried to kill me by having the automatic trans lock up on the highway.
Everyone who was driving in the 70s and 80s has a Chevette story. I drove a couple of them. Let’s just say that I never lusted after one of my own.
You also deserve a CC Salute. Not just for taking on the COAL project, but for driving a car with the rear suspension wired in place. And for several weeks, no less.
Great story–and I can relate to quite a bit of it…. the car recognition, (my parents tell me some of my first words were the sounds of a car accelerating..), frugal father who was a “GM man”.
He actually considered buying a Chevette, a 4-door in 1980, but thankfully for my little brother and I, it was ‘too small’. I weighed in that as a ‘manager’, he really didn’t want to be seen parking a ‘cheap car’ like that.
Thanks Carl!! i too had a 78 chevette mine was a 4 door I enjoyed driving it. Too many people are quick to trash a car because of this that and the other…………..if you take it for what it is, you can get enjoyment from anything.
After my brother totaled my mom’s ’65 Dodge Dart in January, 1979 (I was away at college nearby), mom went out and got a 1978 Chevette 2DR hatchback with the 1.8L and a slushy 3-sp automatic, probably through a connection of my stepdad’s who was also a local Atlanta guy. Mom did not care for cars, and basically treated it like an ashtray. I sorta liked the Dart and was bummed it was gone, and still harbored a little resentment that she sold off my grandmother’s ’69 Olds 98 a couple of years ago even though it drank premium gas prodigiously (gas was cheap and I willingly paid just so I had a car to drive). This was the car I had to drive when I was home during the holidays and summer. It felt cheap, and the drivetrain being gutless was generous. The timing belt shredded on me once and my stepdad came and fetched me (he arranged to have the car towed to a friend of his (a retired deputy sheriff) whos favorite hobby was car repair). It stalled once at a shopping mall and my stepdad tired a rope and pulled me home with his Cordoba (a little over a mile). I discovered it had a ‘supercharger’ effect when I would start off from a stop light and then turn off the A/C as it struggled to accelerate–it had the effect like an N2O boost (as seen in the Mad Max movies) relatively speaking. The transmission eventually started leaking and would slip noticeably on any sharp turns, particularly to the right. One year I came home and heard the brakes squealing (it had front disc brakes) when they weren’t being used, and one of the calipers was partly closed and pads worn completely down–mom was effectively lathing the rotor on that side. Mom didn’t know (and always complaining about money, she was miserly when it came to spending on herself). My stepdad never heard the sounds since he never rode in that car (he was 6′ 7″) so they went everywhere in his car. Something always seemed to be broken in that car.
The best memories involving that car was that the back seat could fold down, and mom always kept a blanket in the back. This is where my college gf and I would get some serious alone time with each other since we were both local and lived at home for break.
Mom had that car for almost 7 years and then got a Chrysler New Yorker, her first new car. I was never allowed to drive that car, but by then my dad would just let me have his ’75 Toyota Hi-Lux (his spare vehicle) to drive during the breaks when I came home from medical school and later post-grad trainings when I lived out of town. That truck was fun to drive, plus it didn’t stink of burned tobacco like mom’s cars always did.