Last month I started to tell you about the second Austin-Healey 3000 that I bought at the same time as my first. It was wrecked, but had many of the fenders and other parts needed to repair it. All, that is, save the front shroud. The shroud is a MAJOR part of the Healey that extends from the grille in the front to the end of the dashboard. The bonnet is in the middle of the shroud and the fenders bolt to it. I was unable to obtain a shroud anywhere, but I knew of a place near Hillsville, VA that had lots of them. Mr. Woodrow Worrell, an older man even then, had a farm that contained at least a hundred Healeys of all shapes and sizes. They sprouted there like mushrooms after a spring rain. Mr. Worrell wouldn't sell me a shroud, so, out of desperation, I offered to sell him the wrecked car that I had for $500. Mr. Worrell then told me that he was interested and I would be hearing from him. I returned home and continued my agricultural pursuits since I was then in that bicentennial year of 1976. Lo and behold, out of the blue one Saturday morning, my Mother phoned to tell me that some strange man was there at her house to look at my car. It was, of course, none other than Mr. Worrell.

When I eventually arrived at my Mother's house, Mr. Worrell was there and asleep. Mr. Worrell suffered from narcolepsy, a fairly rare disease, that would put him to sleep in the midst of a conversation, only to have him wake up 30 minutes later and pick up right where he had left off as though he had just blinked his eyes! That was particularly hard on the other person, because what do you do for that twenty or forty-five minute lapse when you know he's going to come back around and expect you to be right there where he left you. I never knew what else to do except just sit and wait, thinking he might find out he was sick if I wasn't there!

I showed Mr. Worrell the car and I could see that he appreciated it. Even for a wrecked car, this one still had some class. I suppose it was the fact that it had obviously new tires and a new convertible top and a well-maintained air about it. Plus, it was red and many of us are suckers still for red sports cars. Mr. Worrell had his sights set on both of the Healeys and on my Grandmother's Murphy bed. It was a little hard to get him refocused solely on that wrecked Healey, especially as it all had to be done between naps.

Mr. Worrell thought it over for a while, then pulled out a wad of bills that could have choked a horse from his trousers pocket and offered me $250. I told him that if the car wasn't worth the $500 I was asking for it, then I could always keep it until it was worth that much. He then extracted the other $250 and handed me that. After I signed the title and gave it to him, he said that "the boys would be along in a couple of days to pick it up". Sure enough, on Wednesday of the following week, Mr. Worrell's two sons and another man showed up in a huge pickup truck with a towing dolly attached to retrieve the Healey. We collected the various parts for the car, rolled it out of Mother's basement, hooked it up and it disappeared, literally.

Passing through Hillsville a couple of years after that, I didn't find Mr. Worrell at home. I stopped at the Worrell carpet Company in nearby Galax and inquired after Mr. Worrell. He was there and asleep, of course. I talked with him and one of his sons (who had picked up the car) for some time. Healey people do like to talk about their cars! The car was in a body shop undergoing restoration just when Ol' Bud had time to work on it. Ten years later, Mr. Worrell had passed on, but the same son had the same story to tell: "Ol' Bud still wasn't through with it"! I never found out what became of that car but would love to know. The car was a '66 model, serial no. HBJ8L34393. If you hear from it, let me know! ACB