Wrecked. That about sums up summer here at Cool McCool’s Garage. Life is like a car crash, you’re rolling along without a care in the world, things are great, and the next thing you know, you’re on the Tilt ‘O Whirl, thinking about throwing up over the side.
Our ’51 Pontiac wagon was destroyed by an idiot (said idiot seen the upper left corner leaning on his weapon, er truck) in a moment of inattention (he said he wasn’t on a cell phone, but admitted he wasn’t looking at the road ahead) who slammed into the car while we were waiting for traffic to clear turning left into my mother in law’s drive on M-43 in Delton. The impact pushed the car head-on into oncoming traffic.
Losing the car, which we’ve had and loved for the past 12 years, was blow that is only slightly softened by the great service from Hagerty Classic Car Insurance. Ultimately, we’re thankful no one was killed, it was after all, just a car.
So, what does one do after that? For me, it’s been difficult to get going on anything. I suppose there was a bit of depression involved (my mom passed away July 9th, a week after her 89th birthday, and we’re dealing with the aftermath of that and my elderly father), so it’s been rather hard to feel enthused. I have the T’bird nearly ready for paint, but the need to replace the car that we use to pull our Spartan trailer with seems more urgent than anther fair-weather cruiser, so I’ve pushed myself into action on the ’63 Riviera that’s been gathering dust in the back of the shop.
That seemed like a better plan than spending the insurance money immediately on a car similar to the Pontiac, with retirement looming, and five other old cars taking up space.
The car has a 5.3 LS/4L60 combo, the wiring is done, the suspension is done, the gas tank is in, the interior is started, and the simple custom work I did hiding the ugly headlights and removing the front bumper is roughed in. It should be a great tow vehicle, although my wife Kim is not certain she’s going to like it in front of the trailer (it’s admittedly a completely different style), it should be a very comfortable and competent tow pig.
Plus, TV Tommy Ivo towed with a ’63 Riviera, it was good enough him it ought to be good enough for us.
A couple of hours had the front clip off, the car reduced to several big piles of parts. Look at all that wiring! Yikes.
The engine hadn’t been cleaned before I put in, mostly because my drive is gravel overgrown with sod, it’s impossible to roll an engine on a dolly or hanging from the hoist out to degrease and clean, so with having it in the chassis, up on wheels, makes that possible. A couple cans of “Gunk” degreaser and the power washer (which amazingly started right up), had the engine clean enough for a car the hood will never be open on.
A seemingly simple chore I wanted to do after the front sheet metal was off was to align the sagging passenger door. These cars have incredibly heavy doors, with removable out skins for access to the window motors and regulators, the right hand one dropped at the rear, hanging up on the striker, and the gap wasn’t even. I thought it’d be easy, thinking it needed to have the hinges adjusted at the cowl, but it turned out someone had broken three of the six bolts holding the hinges to the door (where all the adjustment is), taken a fourth one out, leaving the remaining two only finger tight. So, the door moved around on the hinge, putting it out of alignment.
I was able to drill all the broken 5/16th bolds out of the hinge plate with the door in place on the hinges and re-tap them. It was a bit of a challenge, and they may not be perfectly aligned as the drill couldn’t quite be square because the hinge was in the way, but it’s now adjusted properly, all six bolts are in and torqued down, the door didn’t have to come off, and we’re moving forward.
I’m going to give the wagon’s visor to my pal Jake Moomey, who’s going to lend a hand with running the brake, fuel and A/C lines, which will be a big help, and boost my enthusiasm. We’d been talking about selling one or more of the cars as we move into retirement, so the way to look at the wagon is that we’ve sold one. We wouldn’t have sold THAT one, and it isn’t the way we WANTED to sell one, but, that’s the bottom line.
We’re moving forward.
Be happy the Pancho was a wagon, not a coupe or convert. The people inside were protected. Keep up the great work.
Thanks. We’re OK.
Man, I don’t know you and have never personally seen your wagon. But, as a 1955 Chevy wagon owner for many years, I’ve followed your adventures and hate to see another great cruiser gone by an …….. idiot. Good luck on your other projects.
On the plus side, a little Bondo and touch up paint……..
PS…. Retirement ain’t bad!
Thanks, I’m excited about the Riviera, AND retirement! 😉
Been retired just over 25 years. As others have said, no time for work. Sadly, we discovered old age ain’t as fun as we were told. Back in Illinois after 22 years in the Florida boonies. But we’re still breathing and feeding ourselves.
Love the Riviera.
Wow, it’s painful to even look at the pictures. Im so sorry! Of course, you are right that people are more important than things, even impeccable vintage cars. But it’s still a stunning and sad loss, especially while you are grieving your mom. I’ve enjoyed reading your blog for years, and I admire your craftsmanship and joy in cool vintage things. Thanks for spreading knowledge and enthusiasm in the world!
Heartbreaking, glad everyone was OK