Not a scam, but a grand slam!

My retirement involves restoring General Motors muscle cars from my garage. I usually spend 6-10 hours a day working on cars, and I thank God every day that I get to have such a great time in retirement. I usually take a break at about 11:30 to eat lunch and take a brief siesta. But on one January day in 2025, I was looking through Facebook before returning to the shop and noticed a 1969 Hurst/Olds for sale. The narrative was a bit confusing, and like any imperfect social media presentation, the online experts were screaming about how the ad didn’t make any sense and that it was a scam. To be fair, the post was a simple narrative written by the son or daughter of the person selling the car. It had a high five-figure number in the ad, but didn’t state whether that was the price or the mileage. I wished I could afford such a car, but seeing that I had purchased a 1970 Pontiac Trans Am just a month prior, my “car fund” was sitting on “E.” So, I moved on and kept scrolling.

About 15 minutes later, I decided to contact the owner and offer help since this was the type of car that I restore, and I am a BOP (Buick-Olds-Pontiac) guy with a reasonable amount of experience (about 40 years worth). I messaged the contact and explained that I would be happy to help with a new, more specific, narrative to stop all the online “sharpshooters.” I was not asking for anything; I just wanted to help. The name of the person was Trez, so I had no idea if it was a man or woman, but I figured if my help was not needed, they would be happy to ignore my offer.  I left my phone number so I was not involved in a massive text-messaging session — an event that’s not enjoyed by this 63-year-old grayback.

About 15 minutes later, I received a call from Kansas, and it was the daughter of the car’s owner. I first explained that I did not want anything and that I just felt bad for all the abuse she was getting. She was very appreciative and explained that the car was purchased new by her dad and he had owned it since. In fact, she spoke about being brought home from the hospital as a newborn in the back seat. I could not stop myself from being excited since how many one-owner 1969 Hurst/Olds cars could there be left? She said she wanted to talk with her dad and he may call back.

Less than a half hour later, I met Wes — the very Wes whose name was on the dash plaque of the H/O. He was a very nice guy and loved this car. He spoke about the day he drove by the local dealership – Bob Bottomley in Hutchinson, Kan. — and saw the car in the showroom. He was driving his ’67 Olds 4-4-2 convertible, but he had to pull in and take a look at the H/O. He fell in love as he saw it sitting there with a giant plastic gold chain placed to make it look like the car was being held to the floor. He spent some time thinking over the purchase as it was going to be their family car and had to carry his wife and kids. After making an open-minded decision, he went home and told his wife she had to see the car. She agreed and they headed down to take a look. She loved it as well, but insisted that they order one with air conditioning. They sat down and worked a deal to trade the ’67 for the new ’69. And yes, Wes still had the original contract, along with every other piece of paperwork from day one. They would have had to wait for the dealer to order another car, but instead they found an air-conditioned car at another nearby dealer and decided to purchase that car or do a dealer trade. This was the Hurst/Olds that ended up in Wes’ driveway and began his 55-year love affair.

Wes and I talked at length about the car, and he said he hoped it would go to someone like me, who loves these cars and has the ability to pamper it. This got me thinking, of course. The more we talked, the more the car was headed my way. I am not sure how, but I knew where it needed to be. 

As we spoke that day, I asked about the car’s paperwork, history, past accidents, mechanical condition, etc. I was sure he was getting tired of my questions, but like a gentleman, he was full of stories and substantive answers. He said it was the family car for many years and talked about taking it on vacations to Texas for a few summers. He used to have to take two 5-gallon gas cans in the trunk to make sure he could get to the next gas station. He also made reference to the fun he had with his family and how he remembers Trez always sitting in the back seat with her feet up on the hump. 

Wes added that, when he retired, he decided to restore it. He removed the original 455-cid V-8 engine with about 50,000 miles and had his local engine builder go through it. He did not do the transmission, because it was still working great. It was also treated to a very nice, and expensive, repaint. Both forms of work were done well and are still are doing well some 20 years later. I was falling in love with the car and the story — not good for a guy who was short on cash. I was also less inclined to “deal hard,” because Wes and his family were such great people. But I had to sell a car.

The following day, I offered my fully restored, low-mile nut-and-bolt resto ’68 Camaro to friend who had wanted it for some time. I was still short on cash, but I figured out how to make it happen and called Trez to talk turkey.  We struck a deal. I asked her to mark the car sold on Facebook. She did and the insults continued that it was just a lie and a scam. 

Now came the logistics of getting it from Kansas to my southern Arizona home. I also wanted to meet Wes and Trez in person, and asked a couple of friends if they were up for a road trip to pick up the car in Kansas. You know a true car guy’s answer: “Damn straight!” We planned the pick up for the following week, but cold snow and mud put us off for a week. After that week went by very slowly, we hooked up a 24-ft. enclosed trailer and off we went on a 15-hour trip to Hutchinson. 

We arrived after dark, but Trez invited us over to meet and take a look. It was cold! Not like where I was from. My buddies, Rick and Dan, were as excited as I was to see the car, and it turned out being a great visit between all of us. We also got a brief overview of a very obviously nice H/O. We then headed back to our hotel and set to return at 9 a.m. the next morning. We parked the trailer in a closed school parking lot a few miles away and Trez picked us up.

 When we arrived the next day, we finally got to see the car in the light. It was beautiful. I was able to go over everything and found Wes to be a wealth of knowledge and honesty. It was never in an accident and he had all of the paperwork. We even discussed the parts that were replaced that I sure wish were still on there, but when Wes replaced items over the past decades, he never thought about keeping the originals. The biggest item that I saw was missing was the original alternator. It’s a very specific and rare item that I knew would be nearly impossible to find and would cost a fortune if I did, but I never said a word to Wes, because it would only have caused him to feel bad about a decision he made many years ago. Simply no words were needed. I found myself looking closer than I ever had before while Rick was busy talking old car stuff with Wes, and Dan was talking motorcycles with Trez (she is a motorcycle instructor and, like Dan, a Harley rider). This took all the pressure off me while I inspected the car, so I took my time and, just like Wes back in 1969, I fell in love.

I asked Wes if he would take a ride with me and he agreed. We drove around and simply talked about the end of his love affair and the start of mine. I promised him I would keep him in the loop as I went through the mechanicals.  He was very appreciative that he could still share his car. 

The trip home was filled with car talk and our plans on our current projects. There is nothing like having great friends who have the same disease as you – “garagaholicism.” Rick and Dan are the friends that you can call at 9 o’clock and ask them for help and they are there by 9:05. 

After the H/O was home and in its new garage, I had the time to assess the paperwork that was in the boxes of stuff in the trunk. It was amazing what I found – a veritable history.

After the car was in my garage, I revisited the Facebook post in which everyone said Trez’s ad was a scam. I posted a thank you to her for a wonderful experience in meeting her and her dad, and for getting to be the car’s lucky new owner.

Over the past year, I have sent Trez photos and stories about all the work I have done, and the challenges that come with owning and working on an old car with about 81,000 miles. Trez shares everything with “Dad,” and they call me back when they are together. I forever blame Wes for selling his car to me before whatever item I am fixing or maintaining needs help. He laughs every time and says he is glad he got rid of it before it “fell apart.” The trip to pick up the car was worth every minute and dollar. You only meet good people on rare occasion, and these two were great people.

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