No, not the bright light in the sky with a tail; instead, my first car.

I turned sixteen that year. I had my new driver’s license. I no longer needed to mow yards in the summer to earn money. I had a job working on a local farm.

My father decided it was not safe for me to ride my motorcycle the seven or eight miles from my home to the farm. So, the motorcycle was sold. But the money was put into the bank along with left over money from several years of mowing yards in the spring, summer, and fall. It was to be used to buy a car.

Mowing yards in those days paid from two dollars to eight dollars per yard depending on their size. There was not much money in the bank even with the money from the motorcycle. This was not going to be a new car. Nor was it going to be a hot rod or even a sporty car, not even a pickup with a gun rack in the back window like some of my farm friends had. Think instead of a reliable, greatly used four door sedan. Still, it was going to be my car.

Shopping for the car took several weeks which seemed like years. First, my father talked to auto dealers he had purchased from previously. No luck there – they either had nothing suitable or the price was too high. Then came trips to other dealers, only on Saturdays when Dad was not working.

Finally, as a last result, we went to a nearby Mercury dealer and found the car that met Dad’s standards. A used Mercury Comet. I think it was four or five years old. It was not my first choice, but it was a car. There were at least three models of the Comet. The top of the line was the Caliente – not mine. Then there was the Cyclone, the sports car version – again, not mine. And, at last, there was the basic Comet – yes, mine.

Nothing fancy, no deluxe features, it had four doors, an AM radio, cloth bench seats, and an automatic transmission with the shifter on the column. It also had a six-cylinder inline engine, or a straight six. I probably could not have gotten in trouble with that car even if I tried.

The paint job was good, but describing the color is a bit difficult. It wasn’t blue nor was it green. Nor was it turquoise. Looking back, I suppose it could be best described as a dark aqua with some sort of frosted look.

The car did, however, get me back and forth to the farm where I worked and the six or seven blocks to school during the school year. The car was reliable with one exception. At times, unexpectedly and with no prior warning, the engine would simply quit. The poor thing must have simply been tired. After sitting for an hour or two, the engine could be restarted and would run like there had been no problem. I was lucky. When it did this, I was usually near home and could pull off the road to avoid accidents.

My cousin was not quite as lucky. He was about fourteen years older than me and came for a visit one winter. He borrowed my car to visit another relative for the day. As he was returning the engine decided it needed a rest about five miles from home. He managed to get the car out of the road but could not get it to restart. He also could not get a ride, so he had to walk the last few miles. After my mother arrived home from work, we drove to the Comet and, as expected, it started without problem and drove home with no other issues. He did not ask to borrow the Comet again.

 Even with the occasional engine problems and the strange color, the Comet served me well until I graduated from high school. It was traded for a new car for me to attend college on the other side of the state and held its value, bringing a trade value almost equal to its cost to me. It was not a show car nor a sports car but I will always remember it as my first car – The Comet.