Jim Van Aert is a professional stripper.
Sorry if you just spilled your morning java, but it's true. This charter member of the El Diablo Car Club knows his way around a rusty bolt, a stubborn window regulator, and a trunk latch set on Perma-Catch. "It just needs a little massaging," said Van Aert as he revved up the cut-off wheel. I lent Van Aert a helping hand last weekend, during our latest investment of sweat equity into the Wheels of Dreams project car. The 1940 Chevrolet Master 85 two-door sedan is receiving a street rod makeover for the good of The Rainbow Society, which grants wishes to Manitoba children living with a life-threatening illness. (www.therainbowsociety.com)
When the street rod build includes an open cheque book, most of the original pieces of a 67-year-old Chevy are tossed, in favor of bright, shiny, servo-powered things. Since the Wheels of Dreams car is being built solely from donations, we can't be as hasty. Every part from the Chevy's interior needs to be bagged, boxed, and catalogued as to its point of origin. With the 2008 World of Wheels debut just six months away, the last thing you want to be doing during final assembly is guessing.
"I've never had a car this old come apart this easily," said Van Aert, as yet another bolt fell victim to his air ratchet. The glass in the Chevy appears to be original, though it predates any form of factory tint. "When you drive a car with this kind of glass into the sun, you can hardly see a thing," said Van Aert. The original glass will be used as templates for modern panes, which will be fabricated by Ted's Glass and Rad Service in Beausejour. The only original piece retained will be the rear window, with its factory curvature.
There's always unique artifacts that present themselves during the dismantle stage. Van Aert found a miniature suction-cup thermometer, with a vintage that predates Celsius. There must have been the odd 'Road Coke' swigged on the Chevy's hides, with a few Black Label bottle caps underfoot. We were hoping for a couple of rare coins to finance the operation, but it appears that the seat crannies were picked clean in '63, when the Chevy retired in Riverton.
The reasoning for a complete dismantle has to do with the Sandman. No, not the Spiderman foe; it's the sandblasting team at Winnipeg Sandblasting. The body shell of the Chevy will be receiving a full abrasive bath, before Van Aert lends his welding skills to repair the cavities in the floorboards, as well as the trunk. This meant plenty of scraping, to remove remnants of rubbery adhesives. Items like these quickly liquify when blasted, making quite the mess.