Corbin

[Patrick Killary]

TREATMENT FOR
CORBIN
THE STORY ABOUT A MISSION AND LIFE'S SECOND CHANCES
By Patrick H. Killary


Corbin is a story about a unique car conceived in the mind of a visionary and created for a special mission. The mission would begin October 2nd, 1959.

Corbin left the factory where he had come to life, very excited about the mission and the life he was to live. However, within a few short years, that mission failed as public opinion turned against him and his kind. Corbin experiences tragedy in his personal life when his good friend, Steve replaces him with the first new, shiny red sports car that he takes for a test drive. This happens despite a relationship that lasted over two decades. Corbin begins to feel like a relic from the past and that he will never know true happiness again. That is, until he meets Sarah. Sarah is a school bus from the 1960's who worked at the University of California at Berkeley during the war in Viet Nam. Sarah teaches Corbin that happiness is a personal choice and has nothing to do with the world around him. He learns from Sarah that anyone can lose what they see as their life's work or mission regardless of the importance of it or how many years they spends in preparing for it. What's most important is that they never give up on themselves or their dreams. It doesn't matter how long they have been down and out or what color they were painted, be it black, red, white, yellow or brown.

Corbin is eventually purchased by a man named Woody and begins a new life. Corbin has a desire to teach what he has learned from Sarah to the others of his kind that are still around. In his attempt, he is assaulted by a rusty, 1952 Nash automobile named Nolan. Nolan tries to discredit and discourage Corbin in his efforts to help others but Corbin perseveres in his desires.

Suddenly and without warning, there came a day when Corbin is sold by Woody to Warren and Elsa Grey, noted automobile and art collectors in southern California Next, Corbin finds himself living in a garage among exotic European sports cars and a Bentley named Benjamin. Corbin is now the property of a wealthy woman trying to relive some of her high school memories Corbin has to endure severe ridicule from two of the italian models for daring to enter their world. Also because of the jealousy they have involving Corbin's position with their mistress. Corbin relies on the words of Sarah to survive this chapter in his life.
After six months, he is rescued by Woody because Corbin fails to live up to the expectations of the woman in search of her past. Corbin returns home to western Colorado where he is reunited with the other cars he was helping months earlier.

Corbin almost loses Woody when Woody is hit by a porsche and slips into a deep coma. It is doubtful that he will ever regain consciousness. As a result of this tragedy, Corbin begins to lose hope in the success of those little cars trying to reclaim their lives. In fact, he begins to question his own efforts to help because he might just be offering false hope now that Woody is gone.
Woody had been doing the physical restoration on these little cars. Corbin and the other cars have to rely on the words of Sarah to make it through these dark days. After months of therapy, Woody opens his eyes and returns home to resume the restoration and marketing of the little corvairs.

Shortly before these cars leave for their various destinations, Corbin teaches them one more lesson. That is, if they can develop an attitude of gratitude for the experiences life has given them, if they are truly grateful for lessons learned, they will be prepared for whatever challenges they might face or opportunities that come their way. Corbin taught them that the gift of life was always meant to be a gift of action and that the help they give or receive from others would bring about their brightest days.

It was through those acts of service given to those little Corvairs that Corbin discovered his purpose beyond the mission he was created for so many years ago. Corbin found the greatest sense of purpose and peace he had ever felt.

And the story continues.




Patrick H. Killary
PO BOX 1198
Monticello, UT 84535
435-587-3418
pckillary@yahoo.com

[Patrick Killary]

I was not able to post the entire story, but if you are interested I can send you a complete copy.

Thank You
Patrick H. Killary
PO BOX 1198
Monticello, UT 84535
435-587-3418
[email]pckillary@yahoo.com


Chapter One
The Mission
My name is Corbin and I’ve been around for a long time. I was first conceived in
The mind of a visionary named Ed Cole. The time was the early 1950s. Back then I was considered a radical new concept in American car design. But Ed was planning the car of the future. I came alive on the design tables of Detroit, Michigan.
To say that I was cutting edge technology would be correct, but I was much more than that, I was part of a vision that saw the 1970s as an era when all cars made in American would be air cooled, rear engine cars. During my planning and development stage, the world largest aluminum plant was built for my production. Also a major rubber company was contracted to design a special, low profile tire just for me. When you take all of that into consideration you might say I was nearly a revolution in the American auto industry. But if I was, I was a quiet revolution.
In the beginning, I was called a Holden; the Holden’s are really my cousins in Australia. I had to use their name to hide my research and development. A research and development that produced six variations of the Corvair A sedan coupe, station wagon, pickup, van and a convertible that’s me. We all came from the same basic design with most of our parts being interchangeable. These were concepts new to the American auto industry along with most of the other design concepts used to create us. So my life began in secrecy. There are many spies in the auto industry; it is a fact that during my early stages of development some of the first roads my tires raced across were those of the land down under. A land where I will always feel at home and among kindred spirits, but I was destined to travel the highways of America where I would perform the mission I was created for.
My research and development continued and I was finally completed in form and function through the hands of the United Auto Workers Union (UAW). My travel down the assembly lines of the Willow Run plant in Ypsilanti Michigan was the end of that journey to completeness. I remember the day when the journey ended and it is hard to describe the excitement that raced through me. I was part of a team, a team that would number almost 2 million and I was one of the first. I was designed to improve the way Americans travel. My time had come.
The future was bright and I was innovation and economy in motion. The moment my tires hit the pavement, I was taken to a nearby holding lot. There I saw row after row of cars all standing silently as if at attention. I was backed into one of the front rows that faced several windows of the factory I had just emerged from. There, for the first time, I saw my reflection. I didn’t look like any of the other cars.
I was truly different. I was not like those legendary giants, warriors of the open
road. Each possessing a shield or a cost of arms telling of a proud heritage of loyalty and service to me they were knights in shinning armor, displayed in every color of the rainbow. Every one of then a Cadillac’,Oldsmobile’, Buick Pontiac, or Chevrolet. Though I too was a Chevrolet, I felt different a apart from the rest of them.
Like me, these cars were the models for the New Year and they would eventually awake with a voice of thunder roaring out form under their hoods. Each would be capable of speeds legendary on the open roads of America.
As for me, I was much smaller than any of them. My body was trimmer, lighter and of a simpler design. I was designed with out the radiator these giants depended on. Instead I had air to cool my engine and could travel on less fuel.
However, like some of the other cars I shared the line with I was a convertible. If you combine that with the fact that I was just about the newest thing on the road, it all added up to a quick sale. Before I knew it, I was purchased by a banker so his daughter would have a new car to start school with. I spent the next two years either sitting out in the school parking lot during the day or at night I was usually cruising up and down the same street when I thought we were supposed to be going to the library. When it was time to go off to college, I was sold so daddy could buy his little pumpkin another new car. I think he called it a Corvette.

Copyright © 2008 by Patrick H. Killary
This book is a work of fiction; Names, character, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental