
Pondering the most recent iteration of Chevrolet's Corvette, the mid-engine C8 (eighth-generation) with near-supercar performance for a relative bargain, the last thing it evokes is a connection to World War II. Yet the war is responsible for the first Corvette, in the sense that soldiers returning from that conflict and subsequent rebuilding efforts were hungry to purchase sporty roadsters like the British and European marques they'd encountered overseas. That's not to mention that the Corvette's namesake is a small, fast warship.
The earliest Corvette, launched in 1953, was a far cry from the V8-powered brute we know and love. It was only available with Chevy's "Blue Flame Six" inline six-cylinder engine, which made 150 horsepower and was coupled to the only transmission available, a Powerglide two-speed automatic. Only one color combo was available: Polo White exterior with a Sportsman Red interior and a black convertible top.
Besides lackluster performance, the inaugural Corvette's quirks were many. For example, there were no exterior door handles, which wasn't that big a deal because it also had no side window glass. Driver and passenger relied on plastic snap-in curtains to keep out the weather. Only 300 Corvettes were manufactured that first year and GM kept the first three off the assembly line for additional testing and improvement. Until recently, serial number 001 was presumed destroyed and lost forever, but that's decidedly not the case.
As it turns out, that first Corvette served as a rolling test bed for improvements incorporated into later C1 Corvettes. Engineers received instructions to give drivers more breathing room by lowering the seat height by 1.25 inches while raising the steering colum. There were also directives to modify the fuel filler door for more clearance, as well as covering unsightly exposed rivets in the license plate's recessed compartment. Following its guinea pig role, it's assumed that an insider at General Motors purchased this first Corvette — commonplace at the time — but no concrete evidence was ever uncovered.
Fast-forward to the early 2000s, when a mysterious 1953 Corvette was sent to restoration expert Lloyd Miller's shop in Tulsa, Oklahoma for reconditioning. However, little progress was made. The car's owner lost interest in the restoration project amid family health issues, and it sat forlorn in a corner of Miller's shop for approximately 20 years.
During that slumber, Corvette experts Corey Petersen and John Amgwert examined the mystery sports car more than once, but in spite of telling modifications like cut floors, they never made the connection that it might be Corvette 001. Nonetheless, 1953 Corvettes don't exactly grow on trees, so Petersen tried to persuade the owner to get the restoration and discovery process moving along. Rather than stewarding the restoration himself, the owner wound up selling the car to Petersen. That's where the story gets juicy.
Armed with the title to his new toy, Petersen brought the early Corvette home and started emptying the trunk, which was full of parts. At the bottom of one cardboard box — actually hidden underneath the box's flaps — was the car's VIN plate bearing the serial number 001. The first Corvette ever had finally resurfaced.
Even though the car hasn't undergone restoration yet and is admittedly in rough shape, that didn't stop Petersen from sharing his find with the world. Indeed, Corvette 001, or Engineering Car #3950 as it was known to GM insiders back in the day, made a splash in August 2025 at the Corvettes at Carlisle event in Pennsylvania.
Inquiring minds might wonder how much such a Corvette might be worth. According to Hagerty, an excellent-condition 1953 Corvette is worth an average of $254,000 while a finer concours-quality example might fetch $340,000. One that's in fair condition, like Petersen's, could go for $130,000. Of course, this car's status as the first car ever in a long line of Corvette generations undoubtedly would be a game changer, but no matter. Rather than selling, Petersen plans — over several years — to reassemble it back to its original state.
"The car is plain and simply not for sale," Petersen told Hemmings. ""I think I've got one more restoration left in me."