by Tom Cotter
“We’ve got my father’s old farm truck over there,” said Trip. “It’s a 1947 [Dodge], and it has been in the family since new. Then there’s a 1950 Buick fastback. It’s a beauty and it was driven many years ago to where it is parked today, too. I bought it back in the mid-1970s. It is a complete car with low mileage. If it didn’t have broken windows, it wouldn’t be a bad car today. There are a couple of old trucks over there that I don’t know much about. Then there is a GMC cabover just like the one on Counts Customs.
“I’m 84, and, at my age, I’m not going to worry about fixing these cars up.”
Three generations of Hardestys.
Trip had been quite an entrepreneur; at one time he owned a slaughterhouse, the camper sales and service business, the used car lot, the local Department of Motor Vehicles, and a body shop. Spending time with the Hardesty family was a terrific way to waste away a Saturday morning. We said goodbye to three generations of Hardestys and continued up the road toward Fredrick, Maryland.
Granted it was a Saturday, and just about every auto-related business was closed, but the town of Fredrick didn’t do anything for me. After a lifetime of searching for old cars, I’ve developed a feeling for an area and the ability to discover cars there. Fredrick just wasn’t doing it for me.
We drove around and around, and eventually wound up in a commercial area populated with lots of truck terminals and body shops. We were waiting at a red light when I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw two guys on the sidewalk who were obviously quite interested in the Woody.
Well, we hadn’t discovered anything in a while, and the day was winding down, so I put the car in reverse, cut the wheel hard to the right and pulled up next to them.
One of the guys was Dale Grimm, who owned a truck repair and towing business. The other gentleman was his employee, and they enjoyed looking at the Woody sitting at the traffic light. Dale was a hot rodder at heart and invited us into his building to see his project.
He was restoring a nostalgic 1931 Chevy drag car that was once famous among area racers, but it had since burned up. But the vehicle that got our attention was an unusual military truck he had in the yard.
“My son and I were riding four-wheelers in a town near here called Adamstown,” said Dale. “We came across a spot where there were a bunch of old trucks: 1950s Chevrolets, 1940s Fords, a 1940-something International crane truck.
Dale Grimm of Fredrick, Maryland, found this Chevrolet PowerWagon (!) when riding four wheelers with his son. He has it mounted on a Suburban chassis.
Dale Grimm’s friend George Schroyer’s crowded garage contained cars like this 1957 Pontiac Chieftan, which he will either sell or customize. If the latter, he’ll install a Cadillac engine.
“I’ve always been a Chevrolet guy, so when I saw this I thought it was a Dodge Powerwagon. But then I saw the Chevy logo on it. It’s a 1941. I have the title and everything. This was originally a one-and-a-half ton, six-wheel, two-wheel drive.
“Each manufacturer, Ford, Chevy, and Dodge, had to build so many vehicles to do business with the military. They all had to have interchangeable wheels and a lot of the running gear had to be the same.”
It was a complete truck when Dale bought it, but he sold the chassis to a guy who was restoring one like it.
“My son and I set the body on a Suburban chassis with a small-block in it,” he said. He is considering the next step. “I’m a guy who finishes everything. I’m thinking of painting it black. I’d like to put an antique tow-truck bed on it.”
Dale said he had a friend who had some unique cars outside of town.
“Follow me,” he said.
We followed Dale’s pickup to his friend George Schroyer’s house and shop. George obviously has too much time on his hands, because he had so many projects underway.
Look carefully and you’ll see a ’53 Chevy panel that was cut down to a pickup. It sits on a Suburban chassis and eventually will have an antique tow rig installed.
“I do repairs, mostly paint and body work on trucks,” said George as he walked us into his garage.
Inside one part of the building he had a row of dusty cars, all waiting for attention. First we looked his 1965 Oldsmobile 442.
“I’ve had that for quite a while, probably 15 years,” he said. “It has a 330-cubic-inch in it, but I have a 455 ready to go in. It’s an automatic.”
Now, I’ve always been curious about that. I have always been under the impression that the early 442 designation meant: 4 speed, 4 barrel, 2 (dual) exhaust, but I guess I am wrong.
“It depends how you ordered it,” said George.
I asked if he planned to restore it.
An unfinished hot rod project George owned was this fiberglass 1929 Ford roadster that was sitting in this converted truck body. He will sell it.
“I’m thinking about Pro-streeting it,” he said. “I even thought about chopping the top and slamming it,” he said with a laugh. George was definitely a hot rodder. Even though I think it would be a shame to cut up such an original car, several of George’s completed hot rods were sitting in his other garage, and they were beautiful. So I’m sure the Olds 442 would be no different.
“I used to have a junkyard, so I had a lot of cars. That’s how I found this car.”
OK, the car next to the Oldsmobile was a 1953 Chevy panel.
“It’s been cut down into a pickup and sits on a Suburban frame with an Olds 350 in it,” he said. “I have a Manley hand-crank winch to bolt into it, so it will be a vintage tow truck. I bought it from a guy who was running a little six-cylinder in it, but, when I got it, I swapped the frame and the engine. The guy cut the back of the body off before I bought it.”
George dragged home this 1952 Buick rather than see it crushed at the local scrap yard. He has cannibalized parts from this Buick for other hot rod projects.
Next was a 1957 Pontiac Chieftain two-door hardtop, factory pink and black.
“The only thing I’m missing are the bumpers, that’s all,” said George. “It has the factory 347 engine in it with a single two-barrel. It’s for sale. I have a clear title with a good body. I’ll take $4,500 for it. If I keep it, I’ll probably put a Cadillac motor in it, just to be different, and probably Packard taillights and extend the fenders beyond the Continental kit.
“You got to understand, I’ve been a hot rodder my whole life.”
Before we left, George walked us out back to see a couple of cars. One was a fiberglass 1929 Ford roadster hot rod that had never been completed, which was sitting in a shed. It had a custom frame, 9-inch Ford rear, Corvair front end. And it’s for sale.
And there was a Buick.
“I traded for that car,” he said. “A guy who ran a junkyard called me to say he had this 1952 Buick and didn’t want to crush it. So I traded another junk car for it. It was the last year for the straight-eight engine, the last year before the V-8.”
“I kept it for the running gear. Four-doors don’t have much demand, but I’ve already taken a lot of parts off it.”
We said goodbye to George and followed Dale to one more old car.
We visited one more guy, who happened to own a 1939 Ford Deluxe Woody like the one I was driving! But he purchased his in 1953 for $5! It had a rough wood body when he purchased it, so he fabricated a new one out of oak, working on it in his mother’s basement after work and on weekends.
He asked that we not mention his name or give his address. Too bad, because he had a neat story to tell.
That was it for our day. We checked into a hotel in Hagerstown, Maryland, and spent 30 or 40 minutes driving around looking for a cool downtown pub, as we did every other night. However, after spending 45 minutes cruising around Hagerstown, we discovered there was no cool downtown pub. Now, wouldn’t you think that a town named Hagerstown would have a historic district? Well, it did, but not much of one. And the pub there didn’t appeal to the three of us, so we just went to the Mexican Restaurant across the street from the Hampton Inn.
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There was a funny scene going on in there, because at the next table there were about a dozen women celebrating a bachelorette party for one of them (probably the one wearing the veil). Anyway, I suppose she was getting married in the morning, and they were pretty heavily into their Margaritas by the time we walked in. They made a lot of noise and started dancing around the restaurant to the delight of all the patrons.
They had been drinking their Margaritas through “obscene” straws, as I suppose would be appropriate for a bachelorette party. So when they got ready to leave, and were collecting all the presents and other paraphernalia, one girl yelled, “Does everyone have their penises?”
The whole restaurant erupted in laughter. It was a fun way to end the evening.
At the end of the day, Dale Grimm brought us to his friend’s house. Inside the garage was this disassembled 1939 Ford Woody wagon, which was originally purchased for $5.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 5
DAY 10
Another Sunday. We certainly lucked out last Sunday when A. C. Wilson gave us a grand tour of his Buick and Cadillac collection, but I was not optimistic that we’d have the same opportunity today. My best guess was that we would drive around the countryside, enjoy the scenery, and probably start knocking on doors in the afternoon.
Wrong, Buckaroo.
We finished up our standard Hampton Inn breakfast and hit the road heading east. It was still early, about 8:30 a.m., and Brian and I were not yet on the lookout for old cars; our x-ray vision and supreme intellect had not been turned on. But driving down the road, out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be a junkyard on the right.
Couldn’t be.
“I think that junkyard was open,” I said to Brian. “It’s early Sunday morning. Whoever heard of a junkyard open on a Sunday?”
Just to make sure, we made another one of our famous U-turns to check out what I thought I saw. It was probably just wishful thinking. But son-of-a-gun, we pulled into Elwood’s Auto Exchange in Smithburg, Maryland, and the gates were wide open. Men were working. Tractors were hauling around cars.
Could this be? I walked up to a guy who looked to be in charge.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Are you open?”
“Yes,” said Chris Crites, the manager. “We’re open every day except Christmas.”
Displayed like the Statue of Liberty at the entrance of Elwood’s, this 1965 Ford Galaxie looked solid.
Parked near the entrance of Elwood’s Auto Exchange in Smithsburg, Maryland, was this 1930-ish Chevy chassis, drivetrain, and cowl. This made us optimistic about what the yard held.
Restoration, race car, hot rod, or just parts, this V-8 Mustang held some promise that it could still live another life.
And there was the sign posted on the building:
Elwood’s Auto Exchange
Smithburg, Md
Open 7 days/week
Closed Christmas
Chris said we could look around all we wanted.
“Our old stock is all in the back right corner,” he said.
We parked the Woody and the Flex off to the side of the entrance, trying to keep a safe distance from trucks and tractors that were pulling cars in and out. Next to the front entrance, up on an old tractor-trailer body, a complete 1965 Ford Galaxie nose stood sentry. It looked like a yard sculpture next to all the late-model sheet metal. And it told us this yard had heritage.
Believe it or not, collectors are beginning to restore and collect the long ridiculed Fiat 850 Spider. The cars also hold their own in vintage sports car races.
Michael grabbed his camera and the three of us took off for the right rear corner of the yard. As we walked the large yard, 65 acres, we noticed that it was neatly arranged in sections by car brands; Fords in one area, Chevys in another, Mercedes-Benzes in another, and so on.
We could tell this was an old junkyard, because most of the older inventory was now parked in a thick forest, trees and bushes grown over, under, around, and through the old cars. I asked the manager when it opened, and he said 1952.
I think it’s a Buick, but I’m not quite sure. The right rear corner of Elwood’s had dozens of cars of this era, and in this condition. Worth saving? Maybe not, but they are still out there.
There were hundreds of old cars parked back there; we estimated 350 cars just in the right back corner. And they were mostly separated by brands: Ramblers, Fords, Mopars, Corvairs, Nashes, etc. And even though we saw the remains of a few Model Ts and Model As, most of the cars were from the 1940s into the 1960s.
In all honesty, most were pretty badly deteriorated. In my opinion, there was some street rod material, but most of the cars were ideal for parts. The cars still had valuable trim and brightwork, and most of the mechanicals were still in place.
Brian, Michael, and I felt like kids being turned loose at Disneyworld. Or Wally World. We had a good time exploring the far reaches of Elwood’s, probably walking into areas that hadn’t been visited in years, because their late-model junk car inventory was certainly in higher demand.
After a couple of hours, we climbed back into our vehicles and headed down the road, proud of our accomplishment of finding another stash of old cars on yet another Sunday morning.
We realized that we were probably not going to find another large stash like that this morning, but finding 350 cars before noon on a Sunday is worthy of note. It would be our single-largest find, and if we didn’t find another car today, our quota was met.
The onetime owner of this VW obviously had a bright artistic future.
So for fun we started to follow signs to an antique engine show, which turned out to be many miles off the main road, and nestled in the beautiful, rural Maryland countryside.
We had a great time walking among the “hit-and miss” engines chugging away, vintage generators, and restored lawn mowers and tractors. One guy even had a Crossley drivetrain on a stand that was running just as sweet as could be.
We decided to stay for lunch, and these folks provided a great one: pit pork barbecue sandwiches, baked beans, and lemonade. And we polished it off with a great piece of homemade pie. This was a great couple-of-hour diversion before we got back on the road.
This Willys was one of the few cars that could be photographed at Elwood’s. Most cars were hidden among the trees and bushes that had grown around them since they were parked.
Since we were in Maryland, I called my friend Chuck Goldsborough, who lives in Baltimore. Chuck is a Porsche collector, and some of his barn finds have been featured in my previous In the Barn series of books and in 50 Shades of Rust.
I asked Chuck if he knew of any interesting old cars in his neck of the woods. He thought for a while, then mentioned a barn full of old Porsche 356s he had heard about that had been sitting for so long that they had sunken in the dirt floor up to their axles.
“Perfect,” I said. “Maybe a photo of that could be the cover of the book! Or at the very least, a stash of foreign cars would be a nice balance to the large amount of domestic cars we were discovering.”
Chuck told me he would make some phone calls and get back with me. Another call from Chuck, and he told me where we could meet him. Obviously he knows my sweet spot.
Leaving Elwood’s, we were pleased to see signs for an Antique Engine Show that Sunday morning. There, we had our fill of hit-or-miss steam engines…and pie!
“I couldn’t track down the Porsche guy, so we’ll meet me at Baugher’s Restaurant in Westminster [Maryland],” he said. “We’ll have some of their great homemade ice cream and then go over to my friend John’s house to see his Corvettes.”
Great! But before we met Chuck at the ice cream stand, the Woody started to give us trouble again.
Remember our Woody broke down a couple of days earlier when the air conditioning compressor failed? Well, we installed a shorter serpentine belt that eliminated the a/c compressor and everything was fine. Or so we thought…
Apparently we should have chosen an
even shorter belt, because the bottom of the alternator had been rubbing against a high-pressure steel line coming off the rack and pinion steering unit. A hole wore through the line and all the power steering fluid had escaped.
John Grata’s yard and buildings had too many interesting cars! This MGB GT, sitting in the weeds, was reputedly built by race car wizard Smokey Yunick.
Suddenly steering was much tougher. I called my friend Keith Irwin in Concord, North Carolina, and he told me if I drove a long distance without fluid in the steering system, I could potentially seize the power steering pump and damage the steering rack.
We needed to find a replacement steel line. So when Chuck pulled into the parking lot at the ice cream stand, I broke the news to him that the Woody was kaput. Chuck had a solution. “My brother owns a service station,” he said. “You can bring it over there and we’ll put it on the lift.”
Poifect!
But in the meantime, we had a bunch of Corvettes to look at. Chuck suggested we leave the Woody in Baugher’s parking lot, visit his friend John, then come back later to pick up the Woody and drive it to his brother’s garage.
I jumped into Chuck’s monster 4X4 Dodge truck (with HUGE air horns that almost knocked me off my feet; I’ll get you back, Goldsborough, you bastard!), with Michael and Brian following in the Flex. We drove several miles and then turned down a long dirt driveway. I guess John lived back in the woods.
Suddenly we entered a pastoral setting scattered with a bunch of buildings. We pulled up to the largest building and a guy came out to meet us. Chuck introduced us to John Grata, who services, restores, and collects Corvettes. His specialty is early fuel-injected cars. He also owns an antique mall in Pennsylvania. And, interestingly, when he was a teenager, Chuck used to work for John after school.