Hello old friends.
If the plan holds together, Bob Fernald of Austin will trailer out my latest acquisition, his long-dormant project, 10204 01488. His story of this car is like many Texan stories, which awards the telling more than the veracity. That doesn't matter. There's enough documented history here to make this a project I simply had to do.
I've known Bob since the early 70s, although I suspect I remember him better than he remembers me. I was the parts manager at the Houston Alfa dealer, and later at BAP/Geon Imported Auto Parts. Bob bought some stuff from me, but his connection was far more with Joe Locario than some hourly guy working the counter. Bob owned Zap Garage in Austin, and later was the Alfa dealer in that, then much smaller, city.
When I got offered a traveling job with BAP, I offered my 102 for sale, and Bob shot over from Austin for a look. He was really thrilled at the fresh paint, engine, and tires, but then he took the trouble to look underneath. Did I say the car and I were in Houston? I was very young, and had never experienced rust on a car, but Bob was smart enough to divert his eyes and back away. I later sold the car to a Viet Nam vet recently returned home, and wanting to replace the 102 his parents had sold out from under him while he was away killing Commies for Christ.
I got rid of my two remaining Alfas in the late 70s and early 80s, expecting never to return. Both of my regular readers on the BB will acknowledge that personal discipline and impulse control are not my strong suits.
After declining my car, Bob looked around, and found 1488. His version of the story, plus the documents in the folder, suggest an American, J. W. Persohn, bought the car in Belgium, in 1964, probably as the second owner. The seller was Firma Olieslaeger, which sounds like a used car dealership. Mr. Persohn then (according to the story) drove the car to Italy where he married his fiancee, traveled around Europe, and shipped it back to Houston in 1965, where he went to work at NASA shipping lucky stiffs up to the moon.
J. W.'s son was allowed the use of the car. I don't know what his age was, but he supposedly took it drag racing, and blew up the clutch. "Blew Up", as in knocked a chunk of the bell housing out. The father was so enraged, he took the car away from the lad and dismantled it, with the plan to restore it. It sat. And sat. And sat. I'm still boggled at the thought of drag racing an unmodified 102. Or modified, for that matter.
Bob heard of the car, took a look, and bought it. It would have been after he looked at mine, but the year of Bob's purchase is a bit uncertain. Perhaps 1980? That is the most often repeated date. 1990? It doesn't matter. Since then, it sat in Bob's garage, avoiding the worst of the rain and all of the sun. The mileage, documented by sale documents, is about 96,000km, which is around 59,000 miles.
Bob is about to turn 77 (I think), and decided to thin his future "gotta do" list. Thus, I was told of the car, hopped a flight to Austin, had an indifferent chicken fried steak but very good company at an Alfa Club meeting, and shook hands on the car. Literally shook hands. Gave him a check, and he promised to deliver the car before the end of the year. Paperwork to be sorted upon arrival. No stress.
This is the way business used to be routinely done in Texas, and it makes me doubly happy to have bought this car in this manner. I have a heart warming sense that, for the moment, the world has returned to sanity. If I leave the radio off, maybe I can hold onto that for a while.
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Interestingly, the car has a US hood and trim strips, but Italian instruments. OK. I can work with that.
My goal is to have it complete within a year. My first Stampe biplane took 3 years. My second required only 14 months. My last 102 took about 3 years. What is the point spread on me driving the car in the first warm weather of 2019?
I don't think it needs many parts. The driveshaft is missing something. One hood scoop chrome trim piece is missing. Mostly it is complete, and (dare I say this), there is next to no apparent rust. Well, just a bit. Yes, I understand that stripping the car will reveal the folly of that statement.
It is currently red with black interior, but a RED carpet!!! Never saw that combination before. I'm hoping a letter to the new Storico (or whatever they call themselves) reveals the original color to be anything but red. If it was originally red, I will consider repainting it the same. However, I very much like the Grigio Biacca and saddle-brown Scottish leather formula I have on my current car. A steady stream of strangers tell me it is the most beautiful car they've ever seen. An even mix of men and women, but the women sometimes seem about to hand me their phone number. But, I digress.
Bob traded the original engine for an earlier worn-out Mk 1 2000 engine (large rear main bearing). I'll keep that engine, and rebuild it, in case someone in the distant future wants to revert my existing car back to something closer to original than its current hot-rod state. Fortunately, I have two freshly rebuilt engines with serial numbers that closely straddle the 1488 of the car. I'll drop one into this car, but using the OKP manifold set-up that transforms the car from a slug to pretty darn fun. When I offer it for sale, it will include freshly-overhauled components to revert it to bone-stock over a weekend. I wouldn't recommend it, but maybe someone will place a higher value on a set of fresh PHH44s, and sluggish performance, than I do.
So - Bob will head West in a few weeks. I've ordered a couple of new CA67s to help him roll it up onto his trailer. Hopefully the weather upon his arrival will allow him to do a bit of touring in my 2000/2300. I would like that.
Watch this space for tales of pain and triumph, in whatever measure they appear.
If the plan holds together, Bob Fernald of Austin will trailer out my latest acquisition, his long-dormant project, 10204 01488. His story of this car is like many Texan stories, which awards the telling more than the veracity. That doesn't matter. There's enough documented history here to make this a project I simply had to do.
I've known Bob since the early 70s, although I suspect I remember him better than he remembers me. I was the parts manager at the Houston Alfa dealer, and later at BAP/Geon Imported Auto Parts. Bob bought some stuff from me, but his connection was far more with Joe Locario than some hourly guy working the counter. Bob owned Zap Garage in Austin, and later was the Alfa dealer in that, then much smaller, city.
When I got offered a traveling job with BAP, I offered my 102 for sale, and Bob shot over from Austin for a look. He was really thrilled at the fresh paint, engine, and tires, but then he took the trouble to look underneath. Did I say the car and I were in Houston? I was very young, and had never experienced rust on a car, but Bob was smart enough to divert his eyes and back away. I later sold the car to a Viet Nam vet recently returned home, and wanting to replace the 102 his parents had sold out from under him while he was away killing Commies for Christ.
I got rid of my two remaining Alfas in the late 70s and early 80s, expecting never to return. Both of my regular readers on the BB will acknowledge that personal discipline and impulse control are not my strong suits.
After declining my car, Bob looked around, and found 1488. His version of the story, plus the documents in the folder, suggest an American, J. W. Persohn, bought the car in Belgium, in 1964, probably as the second owner. The seller was Firma Olieslaeger, which sounds like a used car dealership. Mr. Persohn then (according to the story) drove the car to Italy where he married his fiancee, traveled around Europe, and shipped it back to Houston in 1965, where he went to work at NASA shipping lucky stiffs up to the moon.
J. W.'s son was allowed the use of the car. I don't know what his age was, but he supposedly took it drag racing, and blew up the clutch. "Blew Up", as in knocked a chunk of the bell housing out. The father was so enraged, he took the car away from the lad and dismantled it, with the plan to restore it. It sat. And sat. And sat. I'm still boggled at the thought of drag racing an unmodified 102. Or modified, for that matter.
Bob heard of the car, took a look, and bought it. It would have been after he looked at mine, but the year of Bob's purchase is a bit uncertain. Perhaps 1980? That is the most often repeated date. 1990? It doesn't matter. Since then, it sat in Bob's garage, avoiding the worst of the rain and all of the sun. The mileage, documented by sale documents, is about 96,000km, which is around 59,000 miles.
Bob is about to turn 77 (I think), and decided to thin his future "gotta do" list. Thus, I was told of the car, hopped a flight to Austin, had an indifferent chicken fried steak but very good company at an Alfa Club meeting, and shook hands on the car. Literally shook hands. Gave him a check, and he promised to deliver the car before the end of the year. Paperwork to be sorted upon arrival. No stress.
This is the way business used to be routinely done in Texas, and it makes me doubly happy to have bought this car in this manner. I have a heart warming sense that, for the moment, the world has returned to sanity. If I leave the radio off, maybe I can hold onto that for a while.
=========
Interestingly, the car has a US hood and trim strips, but Italian instruments. OK. I can work with that.
My goal is to have it complete within a year. My first Stampe biplane took 3 years. My second required only 14 months. My last 102 took about 3 years. What is the point spread on me driving the car in the first warm weather of 2019?
I don't think it needs many parts. The driveshaft is missing something. One hood scoop chrome trim piece is missing. Mostly it is complete, and (dare I say this), there is next to no apparent rust. Well, just a bit. Yes, I understand that stripping the car will reveal the folly of that statement.
It is currently red with black interior, but a RED carpet!!! Never saw that combination before. I'm hoping a letter to the new Storico (or whatever they call themselves) reveals the original color to be anything but red. If it was originally red, I will consider repainting it the same. However, I very much like the Grigio Biacca and saddle-brown Scottish leather formula I have on my current car. A steady stream of strangers tell me it is the most beautiful car they've ever seen. An even mix of men and women, but the women sometimes seem about to hand me their phone number. But, I digress.
Bob traded the original engine for an earlier worn-out Mk 1 2000 engine (large rear main bearing). I'll keep that engine, and rebuild it, in case someone in the distant future wants to revert my existing car back to something closer to original than its current hot-rod state. Fortunately, I have two freshly rebuilt engines with serial numbers that closely straddle the 1488 of the car. I'll drop one into this car, but using the OKP manifold set-up that transforms the car from a slug to pretty darn fun. When I offer it for sale, it will include freshly-overhauled components to revert it to bone-stock over a weekend. I wouldn't recommend it, but maybe someone will place a higher value on a set of fresh PHH44s, and sluggish performance, than I do.
So - Bob will head West in a few weeks. I've ordered a couple of new CA67s to help him roll it up onto his trailer. Hopefully the weather upon his arrival will allow him to do a bit of touring in my 2000/2300. I would like that.
Watch this space for tales of pain and triumph, in whatever measure they appear.