Super resources! Love it.
I haven't detected any fire damage. PO's surname is Thom. Using Google sleuthing skills, I was able to find some public information on him. Hopefully, it's him. I got in touch with his practice, but that was inconclusive. I'll probably write him a letter, be that pain in the arse. I believe it would be highly useful to understand why he got rid of a historic automobile he took such great care of for 36 years. The mileage averages out to 3,700 miles per year. I've done more damage to the paint since I've gotten it than he did in all the time he had it! This entire narrative is just a hunch based on only a handful of clues and a lot of conjecture, and I wouldn't be surprised if reality ends up differing substantially from expectation.
This is the part where I tell you how I acquired this here Eagle:
Working a night shift in headquarters on COVID response in April (I am an Army Guardsman), an Airman from another office joined the company of my assistant and I. The two of them began to discuss things that experienced older men discuss. They grabbed my attention when they brought up the topic of classic cars. I had always wanted a classic car. I have always appreciated the appearance of the 70's muscle cars. I even had ideas to make a Plymouth Roadrunner 4-wheel drive from time to time. My assistant, who is actually superior in rank to myself, owns a 1965 Lincoln Continental. He introduced me to County Classic Cars, from where he bought said car. I entered the site and began to browse. Various cars and trucks of all eras rolled up the page as I studied their catalog. 1940, 1950, 1960, 1970, 1980... Brown station wagon. AMC. Eagle. "What kind of car is this?" I thought. I looked closer. "No really, what car is this?" I scanned the photos. "No seriously, guys, what car even is this? This thing is cool!" My interest rapidly piquing. "4-Wheel Drive? Car? AMC. I like AMC." I image searched the Eagle. 50,000 examples filled the image search. Photos of pretty Eagles, ugly Eagles, monster truck Eagles, Eagles in movies all flashed across my eyes. Wikipedia, Hagerty, Autotrader, Allpar, Road and Track, and others all told me what I needed to know. It's a Jeep in 70's clothing. It's a car that's made to go on any road condition. It's confident without being obnoxious. It's classic, but subtle. Some say it's ugly, but they cannot deny its function. My assistant looked at it too, and he told me matter-of-factly, "If you don't buy it, I will."
I thought hard about this car. But just like AMC, I did little research into the market (perhaps there were better Eagles out there for me?). I did have it professionally inspected; I knew what I was getting into... lots of work in relation to my relatively little experience. "Above average" was the rating given for the condition of the car. I think "Above Average+" would have been more appropriate given some of the photos I have seen of these cars.
I had it shipped to my civilian-side job. Pickup and delivery took less than 12 hours; from Illinois to Louisiana! The shipper attempted to deliver it to the wrong address, so there was a delay. But I got it just before the business closed and everyone went home; so they got to revel in its peculiarity. It was the sexiest car on the entire trailer. A terrific grin hid my underlying anxiety for the drive home and the upcoming work and repair bills. He fired it up and backed it off the trailer. The 37-year old 4.2L straight-6 with a decrepit muffler sounded like a proper Jeep; something I was quite familiar with. I recall that the taillights were healthy and bright. I drove it around the industrial complex, beginning to lay neural circuits for the personality of this particular car; feeling, listening, smelling, watching for any problems, no matter how small. It tested well but would die in gear if the throttle was not engaged. I got it home that night with no issue. It creaked and made all sorts of old car sounds, something that I have since completely tuned out. It entered the garage on the third day of May in the year of 2020. My goal for roadworthiness was June 1st. She was running again on May 30th, the day the Illinois-issued temporary permit expired.
I had decided early on that everything I would do with this car I would do myself, largely alone. There is something so profoundly engaging about pouring one's own blood, sweat, and tears into an automobile. The home garage mechanic is like the artist in that they both struggle to produce order from chaos with little but their own ingenuity. With intense focus, they both traverse a mental battlefield in order to overcome a great puzzle. However, in the end, the artist hangs his work on a wall or places it on a shelf; its function is ironically nonfunctional. It is the home garage mechanic who produces from his toil a self-propelled carriage of opportunity, adventure, and speed (LOL) that he himself will use. Oh, the places he will go. He will make a living and he will feed his family with the help of the automobile that he himself brought into working order.
It is terrifically sentimental, perhaps excessively so, but if you are the home garage mechanic, then that paragraph represents you. It is what you do. It may just be a car, sure, but I know that at least most of you share my sentiment to some degree. Case in point, a man and his wife approached me the other day as I walked up to the Eagle. They were amazed. Towards the end of our brief interaction, he asked if it was for sale. Of course, "no" was all I could say; politely. But I've thought about why the answer is no. I'll be frank. I paid $7,000 for it. I paid $650 for shipping. I paid $800 for registration and fees. I've spent at least a couple thousand on parts and tools and cleaners and fluids. If I wanted to break even, I suppose I could ask $11,000. But the money, while a factor, is not the main driver. After days of 12-hour shifts solving problems other people make at work, the last thing any reasonable individual wants to do is go home and solve more problems other people made! It's about struggling to install one bolt for three days in a row with the minimal amount of free time, tools, and experience I actually had. It's the weekends spent in turmoil wondering whether or not I'll be able to make it work, frustrated personally with wasted days. And finally, it's the triumph over all of those obstacles. Money can't buy that kind of connection and no buyer would be inclined to pay for that. So for better or worse, I'm stuck with the Eagle and it's stuck with me. There is no way to convey the emotion involved in a car one repairs oneself, with the exception of analogy, but that's all hokey religion and ancient weapons, kid.
More young men should work on old cars.
I hope you all found this entertaining.
Topic: Greetings From Louisiana (Read 6072 times)