1979
The first time I saw her, I was 7 or 8. She came down the oak-lined street to my Grandmas’s house; a ripple of fall leaves in her wake. My Aunt Sue sat behind the steering wheel with her white leather driving gloves on. If I had known what the word decadent meant, that is what I would have used to describe them. I do not even know why she wore them, but they were decadent. I recently read on Whitney Cummings blog that she wears driving gloves to protect her hands from sun damage. Maybe that was why my aunt wore them?
The Call
By 2001, was divorced, living in Atlanta. I was single with little bills and job in the lucrative tech industry. I was still lucky enough to have a car connection, we installed computers into car dealerships. My account was one of the largest national retailers. I traveled a lot and saved a lot. I was onsite with a customer, during a go-live of a big store. This is the first week they will use the new software. Ever changed computer systems at work? It is apparently one of the most stressful things to happen at work these days, and it was my job to inflict this stress on others. My phone rings, it is Uncle Ron. “Were you serious about wanting to fix up the Camaro?” Without even a thought, I said “YES! Sure!”. Uncle Ron explained they were moving to a house out in the country. He had plenty of room to take the car, but now would be a good opportunity for me to pick it up since it would have to be moved anyway
Ok great, I knew just the place I wanted to take. In my many travels with my new software job, I had seen a classic car restoration shop and car museum in Florida. This would have to be the place. I called them and explained the project, and they said yes, they could do it, we discussed some numbers, about 30k to get her back on the road. Give or take after inspection. They would need a 5k deposit. No problem. I used my connections in the car business to get a car hauler to pick up the car in Buffalo at Uncle Rons’ and haul it to Florida. Uncle Ron called when they came to pick it up, they had a little trouble getting it all on the truck and rolling it on. It did not roll so well, but they got it on there. My plan was for the body shop to do the heavy lifting, bodywork, engine transmission, get it driving again. My plan was to take it to the next level, do the bolt-on type adds myself. I wanted to keep it looking to the period of the car, even though it would not be a restoration, more of a resto-mod. It wasn’t numbers matching or anything like that. I am not afraid to get dirty, and I have taken a wrench in my own hand many times to fix an older beater I was fortunate enough to drive when wheels were scarce. This was going to be great.
Later that month, I get a call from Florida. The restoration place had been taken over by new management since my last call, and he asked me what I wanted him to do with this, “I thought you were sending me a whole car?” Well, of course, it was a whole car, was there something missing? He rather meanly explained this was not the type of work he did, and he could sell me a car from the museum for less than it would take to repair this. I was heartbroken, devastated, and I had let Uncle Ron down. What was I going to do?
About 8 pm, we make it to exit 427 in Florida, almost to the Georgia border, and there was a steak place there that my boyfriend had stopped at with his mom before. We parked, and I wanted to be sure we could get a table where we could see the car; I didn’t want anyone to try to steal her. I think I was the only one worried about that. We got back on the road and made it over the GA border. I made Billy stop at every rest area to check the straps and make sure all was ok. by 3 in the morning, we were about 3 hours from home and exhausted. I did not want to get a hotel, for just a few hours, and again, afraid if we did not have eyes on her, we would wake up in the morning, and she would be gone, so we pulled into the back of the rest area, and Billy took the back seat, and I took the front. It was cold, and we would start the truck for a bit, warm up, and then shut it off until it cooled off again. Just after sunrise, I awoke to Billy kicking the truck’s back door, some wild fit, like he was trapped in his sleep; I jumped up and around and opened the door for him and assured him he was ok and not trapped. He had gotten a leg cramp in his sleep and didn’t realize where he was or why he could not straighten his leg. I would discover over the years that he often woke up in his sleep like a jumpy war veteran, which he was neither. After a stretch and a coke from the rest area vending machine, we were back on the road. We pulled up to the house at about 10 am and parked the trailer alongside the house. We finished our sleep and made arrangements to drop the car off at the new mechanic in the morning and return the truck.
We dropped the Camaro off with the new mechanic, he said we had quite a project here, but he appeared to love cars more than the money and said he partnered with a body guy, he would pull the engine and transmission, and empty the car and send the body to his guy so they could work at the same time. I signed the deposit check over to him and felt like we were back on the right track. We returned the trailer and the truck, and no one seemed to be the wiser of the tow package addition.
A few weeks later, the body guy called and asked for us to come up and discuss the plan and colors; he was about 30 minutes away, then we got off the hard road, and on to a gravel road, drove behind a house to a barn. We met Brian, the body man in the barn, and we discussed the plan, and he also explained that he had the body stored up in his chicken coup while he had finished his last project. Well, we discussed it mostly with his assistant, as Brian had a thick southern accent to the point that we could hardly understand him. He had a fairly legit operation, a sanding shop, and a paint spray booth inside the barn. He recommends we supply him with a disposable camera to take pictures for us along the way. Despite the chicken coup, I felt good about it.
A couple more weeks, the mechanic called us down, he had gone through the engine, and it was in perfect working order. It was a 400 small block that came out of my Uncle Ken’s Cutlass. He had it running on the stand, and it sounded great. We worked out the rest of the mechanical plans and interior. after he got the body back, he would be ready to start assembly and send out the seats for upholstery. At this point, it would be just moving forward as I paid for it. He said he would put the engine to the side to finish and pay for the bodywork, then start paying him. It all made sense, and things seemed to be coming together.
May 2004, I purchased a house right down the street from my roommate, a cut little hose with a corner lot and wrap around porch, Still single, but things were getting more serious with Billy and me I, and he had 2 kids, and we needed a place to gather and grow on our own. This slowed down the pace I could spend on the Camaro, but they had other projects they were working on and were good with the pace I could provide funds, we kept in touch regularly, and things were good.
Later that year, the body was finished, and Brian had moved into a more formal body shop, but the location was lost in his accent. We had to call the mechanic to find out what he had said. We made it to the new locations, and the car had been finished or a rotisserie, not unlike a chicken, and rhino lining had been allowed to the bottom to prevent the rust that happened before all. However, I have not the intention of letting her be driven in the snow and salt again. Now to settle on eh perfect color. She had to be purple, not the fading sun, snow, and salt beat she was, but a nice shiny true purple. Brian pulls out a sample that was way bluer than purple. We had a sample of a color we were looking for, it was model car paint, but we thought he could get a better idea. We settled on a Plum Crazy purple base. Yes, I know it is a DOdge color, but it is beautiful with metal flake added and a candy coating. My heart is overjoyed just writing that out.
We agreed to keep the vinyl top and the traditonal grill I like how the 69, has the 2 round headlights and 2 fog lights below, and not next to the headlights.
May 2005, now things get real. I had severe stomach pains for about a week and constipation. I looked up my symptoms on Ask Jeeves, the search engine before Google. And it looked like appendicitis. Billy said, ok, that’s it, we are going to the ER. I reluctantly went, and what if I just had to go poop. I called and let Kristy know I was on the way to the local ER. After about a 2-hour wait, we made friends in eh waiting room, with a little girl whose mom was on the phone and not paying much attention to her. Billy ran out and got us some McDonalds. We had been there so long, and our new friend came over and stole our fries. It was funny on the one hand, and on the other, I was like, didn’t her mom teach her any manners? Her mom was still busy chatting on the phone.
We finally got called back, and they asked for a urine sample and health history, took some blood and ordered an ultrasound. Soon the tech came in and wheeled us into the ultrasound room. And introduced me to ET fingers, the long vaginal wand with the red light at the end. I assumed they were going to examine my appendix to see if it was inflamed. My sister had hers out a few years ago, and I was here have a simial exam. The tech said, oh, look, there is a sack, and look, there is another sack. Billy said I know what that is. Are you sure there are 2? I said sacks of what? sacks on my appendix. The tech said, Babies, you are pregnant with twins. I said, What? Holy shit. Billy called his mother from the ultrasound room; I think the wand was still in my va-jay-jay and proclaimed he had won. His brother and his wife were expecting their first child. We were now expecting 2.
When we returned to the er room, Kristy was sitting here waiting for us. SMall town ER will let anyone in. She asked, appendix? I said no, twins, she said Holy shit, and I said, wow, I know. And that was pretty much all we could say for the next few months.
I tell you this because this pretty much put the Camaro project on hold. We now had to shift our focus and funds to buy 2 of everything. I called Brian and the Mechanic, and they were overjoyed for us and explained they would put everything to the side and resume when we were ready, no problem.
The next 2 years are pretty much a blur. We got married in June 2005, and in September, my husband’s mother died of ovarian cancer, which she had been battling for 5 years. We went to Florida to see her before she passed, and I returned home for my prenatal check-up, and my husband stayed for the funeral. I called him as I walked into the other doctor’s office, as I would pick him up from the airport after my appointment. While he was in the air, the doctor discovered I was in early labor at 28 weeks and needed to be put in the hospital to get the labor stopped. By the time Billy landed in ATL, I had called our friend to pick him up and bring him to the hospital. I spent a week there on magnesium and taking steroid injections to get the babies ready if they were born early. From then on, I was on bed rest. In November, my husband’s brother and his wife gave birth to their son right after hurricane Wilma hit. This was also the year of Katrina. Late in November, my mother, stepdad, sister, and niece came to our house for thanksgiving. I was feeling uncomfortable, but at 32 weeks with twins who wouldn’t. My mom and stepdad left Sunday after thanksgiving, and that night Billy and I went to the hospital again just in case.
On Monday, November 28th, 2005, at 4:42, Gunner Daniel Roberts was born, followed 5 minutes later by his sister Bailey Jules. Bailey stayed in the hospital for 8 days and Gunner for 17days. Together, they did not weigh as much as my nephew, born the month before.
The next two years were a blur, I went back to work after 6 weeks, and while I was lucky enough to work from home when I wasin the office, I had to travel as well. We weigh the pros and cons of which parent should stay home, and it made more sense for my husdand to stay home. this worked out well, becuse we could all trvel together at times. but it also pushed the Camaro projec tmore and more to the back burner.
When the kids were about 3, Brian called and asked if we could take the car’s body and store it at home, as he did not have room anymore. We made room in eh garage, and they towed it over. The mechanic asked if we could do the same with the parts we had with him. This made sense as we had different priorities now and needed to shelf the project until we could come up for air.
We got the transition and a few other parts home, we just had the engine and seats and wheels left at the mechanic, and he asked us to pick up an engine stand, and he would like the other items from his ware house where he had them stored. He would call us when ready. Several months went by, and we did not hear from him, and honestly, we hadn’t reached out to him either, but I had it on my list. I saw a stand on sale in the summit catalog and sent Billy off to get it and to stop by the shop and make arrangements to pick up the engine.
Later that afternoon, Billy calls me at work and says the mechanic sold the engine. I told him to stop joking; it would be something he would do. He was a prankster. he said he wasn’t joking; the mechanic had sold the engine since we hadn’t picked it up. I asked if he had the rest of the parts, and he did, and we told him to have them ready the next day, and we would be there to pick them up.
That night I was devastated, shocked, and cried all night. How could I have let this happen? I should have followed up with him more. By the next morning, though, I was livid. I researched my rights and worked in car dealerships for years, and I knew they were a process that had to be followed for abandoned vehicles. In my county, they were required to send a certified letter, and the note with the sheriff, before they could sell your property. None of these things happened.
So the next day< i went with Billy to the shop to pick up the remaining items; THe mechanic met us at the shop with the largest torque wrench I had ever seen, was he afraid of us, or was he just crazy? I want to discuss with calmy that the above protocol had not been followed to see if he had an opportunity to get the engine back or provide another one. I even conceded that I could have communicated with him more clearly, and perhaps we come up with some compromise. He said I don’t know what you expected to happen, little lady. Little Lady? Ok, well, I have no option. I am going to file a suit in small claims court. You do what you have to do, he said.
I had Billy drive me directly to the court house and I filed the papers then and there.
Later that month, BIlly had severe stomach pain, and I rushed him to the hospital. He had Pancreatitis caused by gall stones. It took them a week to get him stabilized enough to do the surgery to remove his gallbladder; I spent the week getting the kids to school in the morning, going to the hospital, spending the day with Billy, going home getting the kids from school, dinner, and homework, and visit Daddy at the hospital. And then back home for bed and do it all over in the morning. this went on for 5 days. On Halloween, I got the kids in their costumes and took them trick or treating. And then to the hospital. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it. The next morning, Billy had his surgery, and I was sitting with him as he slept, and the mechanic calls; he agreed to settle our claim out of court and asked if I would agree and meet him at the courthouse to pay. I agreed. That is why I refer to him as the mechanic and don’t use his name. Overall, he was a good guy, and I think we just had a miscommunication, I don’t wish him any ill will or bad press.
That was 2012, and there she sat in our garage with all the parts except the engine until 2019
In 2019, we sold our house in Georgia to move to Florida to be closer to my husband’s family, do you think we towed the car back to Florida, right? Wrong, we towed it to Connecticut, of course.
My bother in law, my sister’s husband, owns a machine shop and offered to help me finish it up if I paid for the parts. SO we rent another u-haul trailer and pump up the tires, and the four of us push the purple car onto the trailer and strap it down, and Billy and Bailey drive it to Connecticut and take it to Uncle Pete’s shop. Pete and I put together a plan for the mechanics, and that will be on the Camaro future tab. Please continue the crazy journey with us there.