Bits & Pieces Thirteen


If you don't see it you'd better ask. The collection at "Smitty's" (as it is known to Southern California enthusiasts) leaves the meager "Depot" hoard in the dust.

It's fact, I waited far too long to arrange a "Smitty's" tour and there's no question I should be hung from the yardarm.  To anyone with my former predicament and in striking distance of his digs, I admonish you, "GET-YE-TO-THE-DOOR".  The particulars work out as follows:
2985 "K" STREET
(619) 233-7937
In all truth, there is some urgency to the imploration.  Unless (in the near future) things take an unanticipated change in path, all that it is depicted in these "exchequer" images is destined to be scrap.  Aside from blueprints held by the city of San Diego to redevelop the entire area, Loren Smith has reached the same "end-of-the-rope" that many an old-timer has encountered.

His real roots are well north of the living-nook hollowed out in the back of this treasure cave and with officialdom raising the hassle factor to a nagging roar, making the choice to wash ones hands of what has proven burdensome become surprisingly easy.  What will not be effortless is finding a new champion to assume the stewardship of these valuables.  To date no such 'Jehovah' has stepped forward.  On top of the funds needed to reasonably compensate the current keeper, monies would have to be found to cover both the costs of securing a new storage facility and transporting the myriad of salvage.  Saving such a resource seems the essence behind the charter of the clubs that have formed around this marque, but comparable past opportunities have failed to motivate these organization to appropriate action and there's not much chance it will be different on this occasion.

Loren's laundry - Lord Rootes' leavings.

AISLE ONE - boots, ball-joints & bonnets.

It looks as though we are reduced to praying that another course will out.  There are those that have long understood the real audience (for what some consider the more mundane products of the Rootes Group) has always been outside of the USA.  Englishmen, Australians and New Zealanders seem somehow much more willing to expend considerable resource to undertake a "proper" preservation of an Alpine, or Rapier for instance, than most of their counterparts in the States.

To be frank, these foreigners seem to hold a completely different reverence for the historic importance of their aging legacy and withhold nothing in the effort to insure continuance.  Modestly, I suggest the salvation for the "Smitty Smithsonian" might just be the likes of the "motherland's" Sunbeam Supreme, Alpine West Midland Limited, or the fledgling Sunbeam Spares Company.  Any one of these outfits, or grouped if necessary, should relish the chance to access what for them would be a totally rust free bonanza.

AISLE TWO - heads, heads, heads & heads.

AISLE THREE - eye, ear, nose & throat.

Nothing will happen if the dilemma is no better publicized than it was at the beginning of my sojourn. Possibly furnishing a slice of the story at this sitting will inspire a unknown vanquisher toward a noble cause.  The sadness of divining such a loss is wrenching in the minds eye, but compounds to absolute sorrow under the awareness of having been here before.

Happy Tigering


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