Every car nut's dream is to find a dusty gem in a barn somewhere. The interesting thing is that there's always some truth to almost every rumour of hidden cars, even some of the most outlandish ones.
When I first came to California, I heard on the 'vine that there was a good 'ole boy who ran a service station and had something in his garage at home. Something he'd parked there in the '40s. I got to know this old boy; he was a nice gentleman, but not very trusting: he would never let me see what it was behind those barn doors.
As I started to acquire cars, I'd go over to his place in my Stanley Steamer and one of my Duesenburgs and take him for a ride. I'd say: "So, what ya got in the garage there?" He'd never tell me. This went on for 10 or 15 years. Then, this summer, at the age of 93, he went off to an old folks' home, and I heard from his daughter.
I asked the daughter what was in that garage, but she didn't know. So I said "Did you grow up in the house?"
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| Jay with his Stanley Steamer |
"Yes. I was in the garage when I was four, and that was the last time the door was opened." So I said I'd like to buy whatever was in the garage. You tell me what you want for it. I went over and we opened the garage, which had not been opened since 1947, and in there was a Model X Duesenberg sedan, 1927, with 31,000 miles on the clock.
Right when E L Cord bought Duesenberg, he told them, finish up whatever you're working on, I want you to build something else. So they only built a few of these X sedans.
Everything was immaculate in this car. There were even a newspaper on the front seat whose headline read: "Japs Attack Again!" It was a time capsule.
I said to the daughter, "Call around and see what these are worth and I'll pay whatever the highest price is. Now, I'm going to get it mechanically corrected, but I'm going to leave the body and everything as it is."
