A classic ’57 Chevy,   in wretched shape.

Its few patches of surviving paint are sun-bleached and salt-pocked and cracked like a dry lakebed. Its interior is stripped to bare and rotting steel, floorboards chewed away, the whole layered in a thick carpet of grime and flaking metal. Birds have nested in its driver’s seat. Its engine, or what’s left of it, hasn’t turned over in years.

Slumped among other rusting hulks on a windswept patch of eastern North Carolina, the Chevy evokes none of the Jet Age optimism that made it the most beloved and instantly recognizable car to ever roll off an assembly line. It’s thrashed. A goner. There seems little left to scrap, let alone save.

Auto Biography
is the story of how it got this way—of its long service to thirteen owners, its steady decline from showroom beauty to abandoned beater—and of its unlikely rescuer, an orphan, grade-school dropout and rounder, a felon arrested seventy-odd times, and a man who’s been written off as a ruin himself.     

To Tommy Arney, the Chevy isn’t junk, but a fossil of the twentieth-century American experience, of a place and a people utterly devoted to the automobile and changed by it in myriad ways. It’s a piece of history—especially so because its decrepit skin conceals a rare asset: a complete provenance, stretching back more than fifty years.     

Hassled by banks, local officials, the FBI, and his own volatile demons, the Chevy’s thirteenth owner embarks on a mission to save the car and preserve the long record of human experience it carries in its steel and upholstery.     

Written for both gearheads and Sunday drivers, Earl Swift's fifth book of narrative nonfiction charts the shifting hopes and fortunes of the people who’ve gripped the car's steering wheel, throwing a light on the sturdy resilience of the American Dream and our abiding relationship with the automobile through the most iconic model in history and an improbable, unforgettable hero. 

On sale at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and the publisher website.