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Brought my beautiful, stripped-down baby out of the body shop today. After an 11 year sleep, then days, months, a total of two and a half years of both tentative and determined effort, hours spent staring at it, wrestling underneath it, bending over it, sanding it, stripping it bare of all its metallic trim to better reveal its rust-ugly holes, it’s finally emerged in all its smooth, cool, pale-green glory. So (drum roll...), it made its victory ride from the shop to my friend’s mother’s garage (where I’ll put it all back together again), friend following in her V70 wagon. What a RIDE! (explosion of victory music!) The car’s been backfiring a little again, but the engine revved with pep and I sped out exuberantly until…the car died at an intersection a half mile up the road (end of victory music). I was stuck. But I’d scarcely stepped out of the car when two Mexican guys in front of me immediately jumped out of their car, quickly pushed me into the gas station beside us, gave a quick wave, and sped off.
If your engine dies, it’s always good if it does this in front of a gas station. Even better if it dies behind a car driven by two helpful Mexican guys. Even better if the plumbing contractor who works with your neighbor immediately pulls into the same gas station and you’re able to run up, explain who you are, and ask him for a wrench to get the air filters off so you can spray starter fluid into the carbs, which is exactly what happened. I also jumped the battery with my friend’s fellow-Volvo because the cold weather made my old battery suspect. Did I also mention that the temperature was –3 degrees with windchill and that I’d removed the front and back windshields? I froze! But the car up and started with vigor, and despite the pain from the raw wind on my forehead, I whooped joyfully as I cruised those final two miles up the road to the house.
So thank you to the guys at the body shop who worked wonders with their hands and tools, and let me work alongside them to help keep costs down. Thanks to John Judge in Maryland who gave me a fender. Thanks to Cam Price who sent me advice and seatbelts for the back, and to the guy in Ontario who sent me a puller for the drums, for only the cost of shipping. Thanks to everyone, including the many random voices on the brickboard, who gave help and advice and told me I could. Thanks to the Mexican guys. There is still a lot to do, but this car’s a keeper and now that I've got the tinker-bug, I figure I’ve got the rest of my life.
With sincere gratitude,
C. Holly Favino
1966 122 Sedan
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