Well, the owner of the body shop continues to at least feign amazement at what a piece of junk I brought him, saying that he would not have guessed from first inspection that the car would need so much work. I am disappointed by how much damage was discovered after the body was blasted and cleaned up, but one advantage of always expecting the worst is that you are rarely unpleasantly surprised. I appreciate his comments, though, in the sense that at least he doesn't make me feel like I should have been able avoid all of this if I'd known what to look for. On the other hand, I saw some things once I had the car in my garage that were starting to get me concerned, and I feel like if I ever do buy another old car, I will have a better idea of what to look for, and where to look. Anyway, I think we have at least turned a corner now where there shouldn't be much more in the way of surprises and they at least know what needs to be fixed.
All the little white specks are holes that are rusted through. You can also see the front edge of the drip trough around the trunk is jagged and holed with rust.
The passenger footwell looks similar:
There was really only about one quarter of the floorpan that was useable, and even that got about a three-by-four-inch patch put in.This picture shows the passenger side rear quarter panel, just behind the rear wheel opening:
The patch that is welded in here was in place when I bought the car. You can see how crude it looks, but with bondo over it, I had no idea it was even there. You can also see rust damage below it, and running up the lip of the wheel opening. There's rust like this in various places all over the body.
In most cases, it is cheaper to buy a reproduction panel, cut out the rust, and weld in a new piece than it is to repair a damaged piece or make a patch panel from scratch. If I'd bought a Chevelle or a Camaro, then pretty much every part of the car would be available as a reproduction, because those cars are very popular. Of course, those cars also tend to be more expensive to buy because they are so popular, so I guess it's a trade-off. But, I bought a 1965 Impala, so there are a lot of parts that are not available, and that means that the stuff has to be repaired. I am just lucky that Dale Earnhardt made me a Chevy fan at an early age, because if nature had run its course and I'd developed into a Plymouth guy, then things would have gotten even more expensive.
One area on the car that required extensive repair was the part of the body that the door hinges bolt to. What should have been a column of formed steel, sturdy enough to support the cantilevered weight of one of these big doors, was revealed to in fact be pretty much a big open hole with rusty, jagged edges. For some reason I don't think I got any "before" or "after" pictures of that, but it has already been rebuilt by the guy at the body shop, just patched up and reconstructed, piece by piece, from bits of sheet metal. I would have liked to see more about how he did that, and get some pictures of the repair in progress, but all I saw was that one week it was a big, gaping hole, and the next week it looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line in 1965. Pretty impressive.
Another problem area was the leading edge of the dashboard, at the base of the windshield. I noticed after I'd bought the car that it was rusted through at the corners, but after removing the windshield and blasting the body, it was revealed that the leading edge of the dash was basically perforated by rust holes all across the width of the car, to where it looked like you could almost just just tear the whole top of the dash off without a whole a lot of effort. That was all reconstructed, also, using pieces of sheetmetal. The picture below shows the repair before it was primered.
I think there is some light filler on top of the repair there, which is what makes it look whitish, but it is new steel underneath.
When I was looking for a 1965 Impala, around the same time that I found Matilda listed on Craigslist, there was a guy advertising a pair of 1965s up in Austin. One of them was a "parts car," and the other was an empty shell which had already had all the bodywork done on it. He wanted to sell them together, and I didn't really want two Impalas, but I also felt like he was asking too much for the one with the bodywork done on it. Well, I've already spent more on bodywork than what he was asking for that car, but on the other hand, I will have the peace of mind of knowing exactly what's under my paint, instead of taking someone's word that the car is solid.
I think another factor in my decision-making may be some feeling of guilt about letting Bertha rust away to nothing. I get some satisfaction from knowing that I am getting a rough car restored to its "former glory," putting a car back on the road, as opposed to just sustaining a survivor.
Lastly, according to the liner notes of Rhino Records' "Ray Charles Anthology," Ray Charles once said, "I don't know how many times I've been asked to do 'The Star Spangled Banner.' I've refused. Never sang that song once. I just don't hear myself doing it. When I do a song, I must be able to make it stink in my own way; I want to foul it up so it reeks of my manure and no else's." I've always remembered the gist of that quote, and I always think of it when I'm shopping for an old car. If I see a car that's "finished," even if I like the way it's done, it doesn't hold much appeal for me as a buyer. I know that I'm going to want to make a car my own, and I don't want to un-do someone else's work to make it what I want. I'd always rather start with something that looks like Matilda, rather than something that looks like a finished showcar.
So for those reasons, I don't regret buying Matilda, even though she's turned out to need a lot more work than what I initially thought. Of course, there's also the fact that regretting it wouldn't change anything. We've got what we've got, and we're pushing ahead.
Speaking of pushing ahead, right now the body shop is waiting for parts that they've ordered. New quarter panels are the major items, but some other pieces, too. I am doing a poor job of making progress on my end, but I am getting some small things done. I finished painting most of the bumper mounting brackets with POR-15. Because of the number of coats of paint that they recommend, and the waiting time between coats, it actually requires a pretty sizeable block of time to get painting done. There are still a lot more parts that need to be painted, and I think maybe some time this week I will try to get the crank installed in the block. If I can at least verify that the bearing clearances are good, then maybe next weekend I will try to spend some time putting the whole bottom end together.
I have also been spending some time trying to figure out how I can customize the dashboard to look the way I want it to, and also make it easy to assemble and disassemble. When I actually sat down and looked at the parts, it turned out that the dashboard will probably be a little harder to do than I first thought, but I think I'm starting to get some ideas figured out for it.
1 comment:
So what you're saying is that it's time to convert your restoration project into a demolition derby participant project?
Ideas like this are why you look to me for sound automotive advice :)
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