So, it was only when I peered over the fence of a local garage, in a bid to get a better look at a derelict SIII Jag, that I spotted this 1965 Zephyr. I had no idea it was there. But I'm glad I spotted the old Jag, because had I not, I wouldn't be in the position I am now. By which of course, I mean the hopeful new owner of what has to be the worst Zephyr in the UK.
I asked the garage owner about it, expecting to be told it' being restored or something similar. That wasn't the case though. He explained that the family were, in fact, hiding the big Z from its owner. You may wonder why they'd do such a thing? The truth is, the elderly gent who has owned this car from new suffers from dementia. As such, the DVLA have taken his licence away. But even so, he was still determined to drive. He simply couldn't be trusted if the car was at home. Had it remained there, he would have become an unfortunate statistical contribution for Avon and Somerset Police.
The garage owner passed my number on to the wife. it was months before I heard anything, but when I did, there was a lengthy call explaining how attached the old fella is to his Zephyr. However, she and the rest of the family are well aware that car is nothing short of a wreck. It's been subjected to decades of shocking home-repairs to the bodywork. The underside, having been regularly welded by the aforementioned garage, is actually reasonably sound. So sound in fact, that this car was on the road just one year ago. Baffling when you look at it. But then, we are dealing with mechanicals that are about as complicated as a spoon.
The wife wants the car to go, it can't live at the garage forever. But she wants it to go to someone who will at least give it a fighting chance of survival. Enter stage left, me.
The terms of the deal have yet to be worked out, but the car is mine. It's just a matter of time. The family don;t just want to rid the owner of his car without warning, so they at least want to see how he takes the news of it being moved on. If that fails, they'll simply continue the ruse that it's hiding at the garage. It may sound cold, but trust me, this is a wife full of love, but who also has a pragmatic understanding of the situation.
The car itself is, as I say, a wreck. But it's solid in the right places. It's oozing charm (as well as some other things) and I think it at least deserves a chance at survival. Punted onto the open market, this car would go around a track and that would be it. It deserves better than that. For all of its dubious aesthetic, it's still been a reliable, loved and enjoyed car. The owner might not be the most skilled at car repairs, but that shouldn't serve to moot his love for the old girl.
So, watch this space. As I said, the particulars are being worked out.
Here's hoping the point of no return isn't too much of a dot on this Zephyr's rearward horizon.
Chris
I asked the garage owner about it, expecting to be told it' being restored or something similar. That wasn't the case though. He explained that the family were, in fact, hiding the big Z from its owner. You may wonder why they'd do such a thing? The truth is, the elderly gent who has owned this car from new suffers from dementia. As such, the DVLA have taken his licence away. But even so, he was still determined to drive. He simply couldn't be trusted if the car was at home. Had it remained there, he would have become an unfortunate statistical contribution for Avon and Somerset Police.
The garage owner passed my number on to the wife. it was months before I heard anything, but when I did, there was a lengthy call explaining how attached the old fella is to his Zephyr. However, she and the rest of the family are well aware that car is nothing short of a wreck. It's been subjected to decades of shocking home-repairs to the bodywork. The underside, having been regularly welded by the aforementioned garage, is actually reasonably sound. So sound in fact, that this car was on the road just one year ago. Baffling when you look at it. But then, we are dealing with mechanicals that are about as complicated as a spoon.
The wife wants the car to go, it can't live at the garage forever. But she wants it to go to someone who will at least give it a fighting chance of survival. Enter stage left, me.
The terms of the deal have yet to be worked out, but the car is mine. It's just a matter of time. The family don;t just want to rid the owner of his car without warning, so they at least want to see how he takes the news of it being moved on. If that fails, they'll simply continue the ruse that it's hiding at the garage. It may sound cold, but trust me, this is a wife full of love, but who also has a pragmatic understanding of the situation.
The car itself is, as I say, a wreck. But it's solid in the right places. It's oozing charm (as well as some other things) and I think it at least deserves a chance at survival. Punted onto the open market, this car would go around a track and that would be it. It deserves better than that. For all of its dubious aesthetic, it's still been a reliable, loved and enjoyed car. The owner might not be the most skilled at car repairs, but that shouldn't serve to moot his love for the old girl.
So, watch this space. As I said, the particulars are being worked out.
Here's hoping the point of no return isn't too much of a dot on this Zephyr's rearward horizon.
Chris