I was reviewing the photos and while the rear axle was missing, in one solitary shot I could just barely make out the distinct finned appearance of the A-L brake cover under the left front corner of the car. Half buried in leaves, I used the zoom-in function of my computer’s photo editing software and there it was…the form of the rotor posed between the two outer brake shells. It was like discovering ‘Nessie. The pisser was that I had over a dozen shots of the car and interior but only this one stinking frame offered a view of the brake assembly. I almost jumped on a plane with plans to remove the brake and do a sort of “alien autopsy” look-see story for one of the magazines I write for. Shop it well and such a story would pay for the flight. But I got busy, winter was setting in and the next thing I knew the Curboys yard was closed. Whether this car was sold to a collector or crushed, I don’t know…yet. Anybody out there have a clue?
Another car that haunts me even worse is one that I have no pictures of -- other than those stored in the old neck-top computer. It was around 1987 when I spotted this ’64 or ’65 B-Body at the annual Stafford Springs, Connecticut, spring swap meet. At the time my interest in factory Max Wedge and Race Hemi drag cars was far outweighed by my interest in Street Hemis. I didn’t really care too much about the drag-specific Super Stocks and Factory Experimental package cars. Oh how that would change!
Funny thing, I notice this trend to this day. I’ve got some big-time Mopar collector buds who only care about Six Packs, wing cars and Street Hemis. You could give them an A990 and they’d immediately start planning ways to trade it for a shaker hood E-Body. That’s kind of where my head was at too when I spotted this worn out former race car sitting atop a trailer on that cold spring day.
Despite the passage of 20 years, I remember the car was a cobbled together roller, not a running car. It had a tunnel rammed big block, Clutchflite, 8-3/4 and plastic windows. There was even a hint of wheelbase alteration. And this makes me feel really old: I can’t remember if it was a ’64 or a ’65, a Dodge Coronet or a Plymouth Savoy, or if it had a straight axle under the front or not. My fuzzy recollections are that it was a ’65 Dodge and the stock torsion bar suspension was gone in favor of a straight axle, but again, it’s pretty fuzzy. It was a sedan, not a hardtop - that much I remember for sure.
I do clearly remember the seller saying the bright orange big block was actually much more than a normal 440 Magnum, it was a Max Wedge. Of course today I’d know to look for the “413MP” or “426MP” stamped on the block pad and check the heads for the absence of exhaust heat cross over passages. But at the time, a big block was a big block. If it wasn’t a Hemi, I wasn’t interested. I was a snob like that. I was also unimpressed by the aftermarket tunnel ram in those days, but I do remember being impressed by the Clutchflite because I had just learned what they were all about thanks to reading about them in a stack of vintage car magazines. In particular Roger Lindamood’s Clutchflite article in a 1965 issue of Car Craft was fresh in my mind.
Now here’s the part of the story that really, really haunts me. The seller said the car was once campaigned with Hemi power at Connecticut Dragway as the Royal Coachman and that it either had aluminum doors or aluminum door hinges, take your pick as I don’t remember exactly. Either way, talk of previous Hemi power and the presence of aluminum door stuff hints that this was a very special car. Was it a 1964 A864 Race Hemi car with the 09 aluminum lightweight door and front clip package? Was it a ’65 A990 with thin gauge steel doors and aluminum door hinges? Was it just a slant six car that had been transformed into a match racer with over the counter parts? Was the passenger side shock tower a Hemi-specific part or a regular item? If only I had known then what I know now!
In all the years since then, I have not seen photos of any altered wheelbase machines bearing the Royal Coachman name. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real, just that it wasn’t a nationally campaigned car with magazine exposure. Then again, perhaps this car started life as a big name Super Stocker or match racer only to be re-named Royal Coachman after its slide into obscurity had begun. I walked away that day knowing I’d learn to regret not asking more questions. I was into Street Hemis and the $1,800-ish asking price was a quarter of what a decent Hemi Road Runner was selling for at the time.
Again, does anybody out there know more about this car? Maybe I’ll get my answer after all and put a stop to the haunting. In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for those cars that shine just a little too bright. Be curious, ask questions and keep a camera handy or you too might be haunted by the ghosts of these relics.
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