When mother nature called, I went in the office and asked if I could use the bathroom. I went back in the van and finished my breakfast. I have some things to do first, so we’ll get to your transmission at nine. Over the sound of another train rolling though the intersection, I said:Īlways. I stepped out at the same time the driver stepped out. It was a slightly battered somewhat older white Chevy pickup. At about 6:40, I heard a vehicle pull in and park next to me. I stepped back inside my van to make some breakfast. Turner’s is obviously not at all like one of those big corporate wrecking yards. Freebies? Overflow? It’s all just part of the setting. There was quite a pile of items out front. The sign on the fence, painted on an old car door, sums it up. The red sun in the hazy sky was just rising over the 75 acres of cars beyond the fence. This time I got up, stepped out, and looked around a bit to see where I had landed. I woke early, at about six, to the repeated blasting of another train’s horns. I had about as good a night’s sleep as one can have some thirty yards away from a major train street crossing. I arrived at Turner’s Auto Wrecking at 10pm on Sunday night, and parked in front. I would have loved to spend even more time with him, but he’s a very busy guy, fielding a constant stream of calls and telling his guys over the radio just exactly where a certain car or part is on the vast property. He’s a truly amazing fount of knowledge and stories, and his warm demeanor, treating every visitor and caller with sincere attention and consideration, are qualities that even the most fascinating car out back can’t hope to compete with. Why? I much preferred hanging out with Jerry than with his cars and parts. This reality influenced my coverage of the yard, as it’s not nearly as comprehensive as I thought it was going to be. Even if it’s 75 acres of cars, a substantial percentage of them vintage cars dating back to 1928. My short but intense visit to Turner’s Auto Wrecking in Fresno, California to pick up the transmission for my truck confirmed the fact that people-the right people anyway-are infinitely more interesting and compelling than cars.
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