For sixteen-year-old Roger Burleson, graduating from high school was more than a rite of passage; it was a ticket to muscle car Nirvana. His father Bill, who by virtue of hard work had risen from humble beginnings as a West Virginia coal miner to success with a string of service stations and auto parts stores in southern Ohio, had promised young Roger the same graduation gift he had conferred on his two older brothers before him – a new car of his choice.
When the time came, at his father’s insistence, Roger ordered the car exactly as he wanted it: Black on Black and with the same L79 327/350 HP V-8 offered in the Corvette. It had a Muncie 4-speed, 3.73 Positraction rear end, an AM radio, seat belts and dual outside mirrors – and it was perfect.
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