Survivor

Eli English's 1932 Ford Coupe

By Kimberly Maroon

*The following story appeared as a feature in Mesh Magazine New England. I followed the 5 month restoration over winter capturing photos, video, and later writing.

As the tale of hot rod history and culture in the United States goes, the East Coast, particularly New England, gets the short end of the stick. California takes most of the credit because most of the hot rod magazines and parts manufacturing were based there. Many folks believe hot rods were a West Coast thing and still are. The truth is, hot-rodding was happening throughout the country.

After World War II, men and women started building cars with the knowledge they had acquired in the military or in factories. Then they began building the cars for speed. Meant to race, these vehicles tested the limits of man and machine. Today, they are referred to as hot rods.

A community of enthusiasts emerged in the Northeast in the postwar years, taking inspiration from the West Coast scene. They tinkered away in winter and raced in the summer. They took to old military airstrips. The first was in Sanford, Maine. Later, other tracks cropped up in Massachusetts, in Orange, Beverly, Springfield, Charlestown and Newburyport. The hot-rodders formed car clubs—with names such as TyRods, Piston Riders, Ring Reckers and Cam Snappers—and shared with each other everything they learned about these speed machines.

New England forged on even while California was receiving all the glory. Today, people like Eli English, a member of New England’s hot rod community, are reviving vintage cars, allowing them to fulfill their original purpose of running and racing.

“I look at it as artwork,” said English. “It’s more of a piece of art than it is a car.

English’s shop, Traditional Speed and Custom in Pittsfield, New Hampshire, specializes in restoration, serving clients throughout New England and worldwide. His true passion lies in survivor cars, and last January he took on a 1932 Ford coupe that was discovered in a storage space in Rhode Island. His vision for the coupe was to restore it back to a main driving vehicle and then race it last summer on the beach in Wildwood, New Jersey, at the Race of Gentlemen. English achieved this goal, and it was the first time in 50 years that the car rans on its own.

A Survivor Car

Survivor cars are automobiles that had been lost or forgotten. Like a family member who had disappeared, they were not seen or heard from for many years. These cars were moved and sold, and they often passed through multiple owners. Some ended up in riverbeds, others in storage units. Survivor cars can have sordid pasts, and their backstories are sometimes just hearsay, with the finer details remaining a mystery. However, it is through their unique stories that we uncover their true character.

For people like English, who is passionate about survivor hot rods, the history is the most exciting thing about the car. “It’s like an archaeological dig,” he said, describing how he locates old photos of a car, scours the internet for facts about it, or gathers bits and pieces about it by word of mouth from friends in the community. English was able to track down everything about his other survivor, the Hinman, including the original owner, so he is hopeful about finding as much as he can about the 1932 Coupe.

History of the Coupe

It all started about a year ago, when English received an email informing him that someone had just found a car in Rhode Island that had been in storage since 1968.

The email included a photo of the car from the day it was parked, and it looked exactly as it did present day, except for some damage from storage. English had only a 15 minute window to purchase it, and he had to give up a car that he really loved in order to buy the Ford. But the little blue coupe had a lot of history to it, and that piqued his interest.

Over the next few months, English found more photos of the car from the late 1960s, and information began to trickle in through a network of people. However, everything he’s learned is from the car’s midlife, and so he continues to look for information about its early years. He learned that the coupe was built as a drag car and raced at a speedway in Connecticut, where it was rumored to have hit 122 mph.

At his shop in New Hampshire last winter, English walked around the car and pointed out a dimple on the rear bumper and some of the leftover red paint on the wheels. Those details help him identify the coupe in old photos, like matching a fingerprint. The scuffs and scratches are what give the car character, so he intends to leave the coupe rough— patinaed—to keep its history intact and make it stand out. “I’m hoping someone will see the car on the road and it will jog a memory,” English said.

The Coupe is a quintessential example of an East Coast hot rod. The roof is not chopped, and the body is channeled extremely low, a dead giveaway that it’s from the East Coast. These “Beasts from the East,” as they were called, appeared almost undriveable because of how low they were and because their suspensions had been removed.

The coupe had undergone several engine changes over its life, but the Hemi engine was the last. Eli removed the Hemi as he planned for installing a Flathead engine.

A last minute change to the engine heads and intake needed an adjustment to the jets (seen here in gold).

Eli works his way under the frame to weld the rear wishbone.

Eli's Process and Style

At Traditional Speed and Custom, Eli focuses on restoring early Fords: from Model A’s through cars from the 1950s. His is one of the few shops in New England where everything is created with original Ford parts and speed equipment or handmade using early machining equipment, the same machines that were used in the 1930s and 1940s. “If you stick with early parts, in a traditional style,” said English, “it never goes out of style.”

English is self-made and old school. He got all of his knowledge on the job, by working in various shops before establishing his own business five years ago. His first job was sweeping floors in a body shop, where he gradually moved up and learned about autobody and paint work and mechanics. Eventually, he found his way to a hot rod shop and was hooked.

English said he has no set way of doing things, and much of this work is trial and error. He is essentially following the path of the men who pioneered the sport of hot-rodding. Back in the 1940s, servicemen returned from World War II and wanted to build hot rods. They had no experience or training, but they used the skills they learned in the service and applied them to the cars. The cars were like test tubes, and these guys grabbed whatever parts they could get their hands on to make them run and go fast. They didn’t know what made cars go faster or handle better, so it was all trial and error.

English said the real excitement comes from solving a problem with your brain and your hands, not with a computer. He has a lot of fun making parts himself, as he did when he welded a metal bracket to hold the coupe’s Mallory Mag spark unit, something he had lying around the shop and wanted to incorporate. “If you can’t find the right part, make it,” English said. “Get creative.”

I noticed the dials in the coupe weren’t working, leading me to ask how he’s able to tune the car, set the idle, or even shift gears while driving. When it comes to tuning and driving, English said, he always goes by feel and sound. “If you listen to the car, it will tell you what it needs.”

Working on his survivor car proj- ects—first the Hinman and now the ’32 coupe—is a kind of therapy, especially during the bitter cold winters in New England. English used the Race of Gentlemen, a period-correct beach drag race, as motivation to finish the car. Having a deadline to work toward fueled his desire to keep making progress through the winter.

His personal projects are easy compared with customers’ projects, because there are no guidelines or parameters. On weekdays, he squeezed in a few small, random projects for the coupe, and on weekends he connected the dots to complete a big project. “It’s all about moving forward continuously towards my goal to get it running,” English said.

Removing the front wheels to the replace the brake shoes was an easy task for one while taking an hour for the other.

Testing out the Mallory Mag spark unit with the custom-made bracket.

A view of the Flathead engine that replaced the Hemi. Eli adjusts the new heads and intake into place.

The Coupe Comes to Life

I started to envy the coupe’s life in the woods of New Hampshire and looked forward to the trips to visit and check in on English’s progress. Those winter afternoons watching him work were quiet and relaxed in comparison to the incessant buzz of the city where I live. I felt as though I was tip-toeing around the car as it slept, always wondering what it would sound like when it woke up.

When spring came, that all changed. What was once silent and still sprang to life as an angry monster. Firing up, the coupe became an entirely different character—a kind of mythical creature, the villain from your childhood fairytales. A furious mix of chugs, grumbles and pops erupted as English adjusted the timing and idle. I noticed a look of devilish excitement on his face as he took off in a cloud of dust. Rolling up the road next to the English’s house, the car settled in, and its slow rumble faded off in the distance. I stood at the top of the driveway, taking in a moment of peace, waiting to hear the coupe again echoing through the woods.

When I rode in the coupe, it sounded even louder as it scrambled up and around a bend in the road, flying past barns and trees, the wind screaming through every opening in the frame. The engine revved, and English accelerated on a straightaway. The coupe got louder and louder, and everything shook violently, as if at any second the car would explode. Fear and thrill blended together, and I couldn’t help but crack a grin a mile wide.

This all seemed unbelievable, down- right impossible even. A car left for dead in a storage unit, a pile of metal and parts that spent a winter in a garage with an artist mechanic, was now out on the road running again. Alive.