Three years passed. The car was done and ready to roll standing gloriously outside the shop like a custom thoroughbred. But Norm was no longer strong. The visits had been fewer and fewer to devolve into reports by phone.
Then suddenly one day he showed up at the shop. He took a seat in his newly built Fireball, turned the key and let the six carburetors blend the fuel vapors and ignite the Nailhead. He pushed the gas a few times, waited and increased the air bellows a bit.
He then proceeded by closing the door, declutch, put in first gear and felt the car of his dreams emerge from the shop’s concrete floor.
On the other side of the garage doors the impressions came to life. The windshield was filled with roads and streets and the dark asphalt came rushing towards him. He smiled. He’d done it. He had fulfilled his dream.
The car was perfect and it took him forward just as he had dreamt. He shifted gears, listened to the sounds, looked around in the coupe. Slid his hand across the new Thunderbird interior. Yep, this was good, really good.
When he returned and pulled to a stop in front of the shop the comments spontaneously hailed from other traficants, visitors and bystanders.
-Nice car, what year is it? Have you chopped it? What motor do you have?
He was delighted. Took the keys out and handed them to Remo. That was the first and only time Norm Moore drove his car.
– I’m glad you’re doing a feature, he said over the phone to Worldkustom from the sickbed.
– I wanted it to stand out.
The car was taken to a car show and got best in show. Norm was there in person to collect the price.
When you are reading this Norm is no longer with us. He left us ten days after the interview.
Worldkustom is proud to bring Norm’s Buick and his story into the future.
"I was a beer and toolgetter"