No one home, a walk around the compound, a look over the fence. This is as close as we can get. Mind the dog. "Do you see those welding lines across the pillars? Top chop". Stacked polyester moulds sandblasted by the desserts winds of the Mojave. Future surrounded by history. That could have been one of the police cars from the Robocop movie.
Shaved. Car bodies reduced to their essentials, as flush as possible. Who needs door handles anyway? A white and crisp canvas over here, a rusty bucket over there. A landscape of projects. Where to start or...where to stop.
"Pasadena find, old lady owned". What we are looking at is the gold mine of Gene Winfield's Rod & Custom Shop. A place where American car history is being recycled, remodeled and refined. Lower, wider, longer. Turning old sleds into the sleek sketches they once where on Detroit's drawing boards. Circle closed. And what about Gene? I did not have the guts to walk up to the door. It turned out he was not at home anyway, but that is on another page.
to be continued.