One of my favorite classic car memories has nothing to do with my car, it was one that belonged to a friend. It was mid-October, 1970, a beautiful fall day in the mountains of North Carolina. My college was celebrating homecoming that weekend. As part of the festivities surrounding the football game, one of my fraternity brothers (a Vietnam vet and paratrooper) had agreed to skydive over the stadium and come flying in with Old Glory waving as the Star Spangled Banner was being played. The only problem was that the closest airport that he could find someone willing to let him jump out of their airplane was about 50 miles away! He asked me to go along with him and drive his car back to the stadium. It didn't take me long to say yes. His car was a 1969 Camaro Z/28, silver with blue vinyl top and blue interior. Simply stunning and a blast to drive. We had a little trouble finding the airport and were more than a little late. As he handed me his keys, he told me not to get lost going back 50 miles over curvy, twisting, mountain roads. If you have ever driven a Z/28, you know that they aren't happy at under 3000 RPM. In fact, they run best at over 4K. Let me say that this Z/28 was happy that day! And imagine my friend's surprise when I was there to help him gather up his gear when he landed. I had actually beaten the airplane to the stadium! Since that day I have lusted for a '69 Camaro. I have driven many, but none lived up to my memory of nearly 44 years ago. Sometimes I daydream about blasting through the hills on North Carolina on that autumn day, rarely getting into 4th gear, listening to that small-block Chevy sing it's glorious tune. After college, I lost touch with my friend but to this day I wonder what happened to him and his Z/28.