One of the weirdest things in the world happened to "Weird Beard". My brother John called him that. Not me!  Richard, his Christian name, was sufficient as far as I was concerned. But Richard was only weird, I thought, to those trying to get something from him. Then it seemed he did become weird in his attempts to justify himself in keeping what others thought he should sell them. My brother wanted an old car of his and offered him five thousand dollars cash for it too. But Richard wouldn't sell.

He bartered the 1927 Ford Doctor's Coupe twenty-seven years ago from me. Since that time it has been collecting dust in his garage. There is a good reason for this. Let me tell you what happened.

One day Richard was in a terrible traffic jam on the outskirts of the city, barely creeping along with the flow, going less than twenty miles an hour. All of a sudden one of the axles from the "jaguar set-up" snapped right at the factory weld, and the10 in. Mickey Thompson, which sat on a polished, slotted aluminum astro rim went right through the rear fender. This incident not only contributed to the traffic jam, it was horribly embarrassing for Richard and I might add to all Hot Rodders and old car lovers in the vicinity.

By the time the tow truck arrived Richard was in one of his supposed typical "Weird Beard" states which according to some he had become famous for.  The driver of the tow truck with no respect for "old antiques" it seemed lifted the Dr. Coupe up in such a way that further damaged the rear back panel and the other fender, all beautifully finished in many coats of black lacquer and highly polished. The reason for the damage was that there was no back bumper on the car. And the circumstances did not allow any ingenuity for picking up this really wild Hot Rod, which was never built to be towed. By the end of the day Richard had become very depressed.  Finally when the Coupe was brought to his shop it was parked, and has stayed there ever since. 

"Weird Beard" has tinkered with it. He did know mechanics. But the car for various apparent psychological reasons has never been back on the road. Consequently, my brother has felt perfectly justified in calling Richard what he does in his seemingly vain attempts to purchase a vehicle that is simply collecting dust. On the other hand, it is after all, Richard's automobile. And if he wants, it can collect dust another twenty-seven years, if he should so choose.  My interest in this story has never been the dust, nor my good friend Richard, my brother John, or the old Doctor's Coupe. But the question as to why, at such a low speed, the factory welding snapped at the axle to begin with?

I don't know how many times, when I owned the car for the 3 years I had it, with a factory high performance 425 horsepower 427 cubic inch big block Chevrolet motor under that tiny, little Ford hood, I had hammered it, to the point of twisting the frame, and buckling the tires, like a dragster at the strip, and the un-sprung axles (typical British engineering) never broke for me! On several occasions, at least, if one would of broke I would of surely been involved in a very serious accident, possibly fatal, because of the high speeds involved. Yet, at a very slow, creeping, crawling speed after the auto had been passed unto my good friend Richard the factory weld at one un-sprung axle snaps?  Over these past 27 years or so I still ask myself "why?" 

Now as all this time has gone by and I think about these things I also do think of my friend Richard who I believe is not really the "Weird beard" my brother has made him out to be. Let me tell you why. When the "jaguar set-up" busted, he didn't really try fixing it. Why should he?  As a matter of fact Richard told me on the telephone the other day, the first time I've spoken to him in many years, that the "set-up" is all rusty from sitting around, and that the 10 in.  Mickey Thompson tires have petrified. He says the grill shell, the headlights and other nicely chromed parts are still hanging on the wall of his bedroom, and that they are in perfect condition.  Somebody had stolen the Walker radiator, and that the stock 1934 Ford    4" dropped axle, all neatly engraved and chromed is missing. He mused about getting the Coupe back on the road with a Mustang independent front suspension. But he's got a good job now making lots of money and doesn't have the time. He spoke to me more about his house cat then his car. The cat he said weighed over thirty pounds. It was a pedigree. And it's genetics he traced back to the days of Mary Antoinette whoever she was.

In talking to my other buddy Eddy and in hind sight I mentioned it was crazy expecting that "jaguar set-up" to hold up under the torque of an engine that was far more powerful then the "set-up" was originally designed to handle. The Coupe was well built. Sure it looked great. It even won the prestigious "Best Engineering" award for Richard at one of the largest car shows around.

That reminds me of the riddle of why the axle snapped. After these twenty-seven odd years Richard now thinks that he would like to sell the Coupe back to me.  So this deal after more than a quarter of a century has come right back around.

Pretty weird? 

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