fuzzy bunny

If you ride a rough and ready knuckle, you can call it whatever you want.

1950 Mercury getting there

A few more hours of cleaning and a bit of lowering has done this car a world of good. The next few things that will be done won't be glamorous and most people won't even notice.

1950 Mercury as found

waiting

Gene's car 2005

Nice car, nice guy.
He got it together the night before Dixie Fried 6. Everyone in the club was excited to help him get it done enough to drive it to the show. He drove it in without a hitch and finished it in the following weeks. He sold it shortly after. The money was right and it was a nice car.
I hear that the original 6 from that car is living under the hood of a 51 somewhere. But I'm not sure that the 51 even exists. I've never actually seen it....

fender cover

you get the idea

the last to go

It was the last to go. I had committed to selling off all of my projects to focus on one car. I would like to say that I hated like hell to do it. I stared at that car for enough hours to make a week or more over the years. And I thought that I would be sad to see it go. I will admit that I am a sentimental person. But it had gotten me to where I was and it had taken me as far as it could. It was a fond fairwell.

the old shop

I had been out of contact with Josh for a few years. He was out in CA and I had been living in CO for a while. We both moved back east and needed to get caught up. He was working with Hank Young and I was at Richmond H-D. I drove down to Atl. in 2002 to check out the shop and see my friend. Josh had a few more tattoos. He had cut off his hair and shaved, but he was the same guy that I had known for years. I met his lovely wife and new born son. Life was good.
The shop was what blew me away. As soon as I walked through the front door, I knew it was the real deal. The showroom was bright and well stocked. The shop was clean and well organized. There were tools to perform any task that you could want and people that knew how to use them. The customers were allowed into the shop, but didn't get in the way. There was a lunch table where the employees sat with the customers to eat. The people who stopped by were treated like friends, not dollar signs. Nobody was punching a time card, but things were getting done. The work was more important than the time that it took to get it done. The quality of work that was performed would determine whether or not the customer would return, not the advertised discounts available if you "act now". They were earning their living through hard work. They were not advertising to bring in a new batch of suckers to rip off. Their best advertisement was still word of mouth. They were building bikes and cars. I was maintaining them. I started to feel like I was just going through the motions at my job.
I still remember feeling like that was the way a shop should be run. I remember feeling like I had to do better when I got back to work.
Flash forward to 2009. The shelves were covered with an inch of dust. What was not covered in dust was covered in mildew or rust. The roof leaked in several places when it rained. There were several places that you could see daylight coming through the doors. Something horrible happened in the bathroom and no one cared enough to clean it up. (Seriously, it looked like someone had shot an alien in there.) A window in the back had a cardboard and duct tape repair that had failed long before I began to move the business north to VA. The paint was faded and peeling on the outside and the inside. The old shop signs on the front of the building were barely legible. The first day that I spent there packing I felt like I was going through a dead man's pockets.
Troy had warned me about the isolated creepiness that the shop had. He spent an afternoon sweeping the floor just to feel better about the space that he was working in. I didn't understand what he was talking about until I got there. It was depressing to just stand in the shop. It was like these parts had been sealed into some sort of great tomb so the hot rod pharaohs could keep building in the afterlife. Or maybe Miss Havisham had been left at the alter there. Whatever happened, I felt bad for the old shop.

remember the Alamo!

This was one more that had to go away to make way for bigger and better things. I ended up with this in a swap. I was basically trading my stalled project for my friends stalled project. We both thought that we could finish the other person's project faster than our own. We both stalled again. I worked on this enough to feel good about selling it "as is" with only minor issues. It ended up in Maryland and belongs to a nice fella who is giving it the attention that it deserves. I will post an update when I get one.

just before the table broke

new year's eve 2004. Mark "Boxer" Griffiths doesn't know how to quit.

certain sacrifices had to be made

Technically this was my wife's car. She drove it back and forth to work for a year or so until she "was in a family way". I drove it daily after that. It was a great car, but driving these things daily takes a lot out of them. And the effort that it took to keep it right was taking away from projects that I wanted to finish more. It found a new home about 9 months ago.
Good-bye old friend.

backing plates

in with the old

This is just after I cleaned up the 50 Mercury at it's new home. You can see the "old" Mercury sitting in the garage. I think it was right about here that I decided that I needed to sell off my other projects and concentrate on the "new" Merc.

the Atlanta Road Kings.

I would not be in business if I didn't have the support of these guys.

the old warehouse

The inventory patiently waiting to be relocated.

in the beginning...

In 1965 Joe Smith opened a shop by the name of Joe Smith's Automotive, Inc. For three decades the shop distributed parts to eager enthusiasts, racers and restorers alike. He provided his wisdom and experience to thousands of customers that came to him for their automotive needs. The business thrived under his command.
The torch was passed to Hank Young in 1994 when he took ownership of the shop that he had worked at for the previous 10 years. The shop became known as Joe Smith Antique Ford and Street Rod parts. Hank changed the location of the shop and expanded the services provided during his time at the helm. He brought custom fabrication, full restoration and motorcycles to an ever changing business. In 2004 he sold the business to pursue his passion of custom motorcycles. Young's Chopper is alive and well today.
Josh Mills stayed on with the shop that he had helped to run, when it changed hands. He continued to provide high quality parts and service in the Joe Smith tradition. This time the shop would be known as "Joe Smith Early Ford and Hot Rod parts". Josh's skills as a fabricator became more sought after in the years that followed. And in 2006 it was time for Josh to strike out on his own. Though the doors of "Joe Smith" closed a short time after, Mills and Co. continues to thrive today.

The shop never recovered at it's Georgia location. It was sold and relocated to Glen Allen Virginia in the Fall of 2009. The new location is 8 miles from the heart of Richmond and close to 2 major interstates.

Though the business continues to grow and change, one thing has stayed the same, the delivery of quality parts and service to our customers. Joe Smith Early Ford and Hot Rod continues to help people build their dreams.
This blog will chronicle the rebirth of a hot rod shop and a new beginning for Joe Smith Early Ford and Hot Rod.