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In 1959, true auto enthusiasts read Hemmings Motor News. I was working away from home so I maintained two subscriptions so that I wouldn't miss a single Whippet hub cap. Reading one of these issues at work one day, (during coffee break I hope), I noticed an advertisement for a '25 Packard coupe in Rhode Island for $125.

The ad sounded pretty good and the price was a little higher than the local market but there weren't any big 8 Packards in the local market, at least I hadn't found any yet. I didn't really want the car, a gas hog, but Mahlon Teachout had access to the company gas pump and had been hypnotized by John Hawkinson as to the desirability of the "big 8", so Mahlon seemed fair game.

I called him and we made an appointment to go and look. We drove my '51 Chrylster New Yorker convertible... actually Pev Peake drove it... and he was coming off a few weeks of driving the Willy Knight, it might better be said that he aimed it for Rhode Island.

The Packard owner's name was Bud Plummer and he had inherited a factory of some kind, and was a true auto enthusiast having several cars, all quite nice. He didn't say too much about the Packard, however, except that it had come off an estate and maybe that it had been stored in some building that had blown away in a hurricane.

He took us up to the family factory and there in a large warehouse we saw the Packard. I'll never forget its looming openness across a large open floor area. The hood was open and scattered around were jumper cables, batteries, ether spray cans, assorted tools and more.

Mr. Plummer said that he hadn't had it running yet. "Whoa", I thought, it looks like at least a week of trying. For some reason my attention was attracted to the resistor winding on top of the coil. I grabbed Mahlon and said under my breath... "Buy it, right now... Just do it." He did, for $125. Never missing a step, I went over and with a screwdriver, bypassed the resistor.

"Start it up, " I said to Mahlon. The old girl fired on the first piston and idled like a John Hawkinson restoration. Mr. Plummer was shocked, possibly horrified, but being a man of his word just set his jaw and invited us over to his house to get the paperwork filled out and for tea and cookies.

We went, quietly smug, clever as hell, to the Plummers. Being probably the most pumped up I entered first and was introduced to the gracious Mrs. Plummer as Gael Boardman. Gael, she mused... unusual name for a guy.

Next came Mahlon Teachout. She was unprepared and couldn't resiset a bit of a giggle. In came Peveril Field Peake and she went right down on the floor.

What's in a name? Who cares if it gets big 8 Packards for $125. Her named turned out to be Polly... Polly Plummer! I think we sort of chuckled too.

A week or two later I accompanied Mahlon Teachout to Rhode Island in his dad's Doge flatbed truck to pick up the big Packard. As I recall the Packard loaded fairly easily with no unsurmountable difficulty, except it was a little difficult to turn the steering wheel.

We left this to the assumption that it was stiff from long storage. The trip back to Burlington was uneventful (the truck had a 2 speed axle which made hauling the 2 1/2 tons quite easy). However, as we approached Burlington a snow storm of blizzard proportions began.

One thing we hadn't thought about was where to unload this behemoth... we needed a loading platform about 4feet above the ground so we could drive the Packard off and to the ground. Eventually we found such a facility in the railroad yards at the foot of Maple Street.

We backed up the truck, started up the Packard (at least it ran) and drove it smartly off the platform onto terra firma now covered with about 6" of snow and more falling every minute.

It was in trying to leave the railroad yards where we discovered the "other defect". It took two strong armed men to turn the steering wheel even the slightest bit. Two of us sat in front and got the old girl headed up Main Street, and as I recall, with pretty smooth tires toward the Teachout's barn on Jackson Court.

Since stopping on the Main Street hill was out of the question if we were to make it, one of us drove while the other blew the klaxon before and at the intersections to warn of our pending arrival and crossing.

When we got to South Willard Street we blew the horn and managed to make the corner toward Jackson Court all at once. Then the real challenge came - a hard and precise left turn onto Jackson Court (named after H. Nelson Jackson) then a sharp uphill turn into the already open barn door without once stopping or backing up.

We did it with great flailing of arms and elbows, and all in high gear since there wan't sufficient man power to shift. The Packard had tried to get even with it's hidden defect... a very dry and unyielding steering column bushing.