It was getting late, and we still had the front end to dismantle. We tried to take off the front bumper, but the Imperial would have none of it. The bumper and its brackets had to weigh at least 400 pounds and was made of the heaviest pig iron you have ever seen in your life. We torched off bolts. We chop-sawed through brackets galore. We went through an entire

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set of acetylene and oxygen tanks. We attached our chain to the front end and tried to yank parts off with our pickup truck. And, we managed to remove only half the front bumper.The grille was die cast. Not die cast zinc, but die cast high strength steel.We hit it with everything short of a Mack truck and could not get it to crack. The Imp's grille would have cremated any bumper on today's market. And, the bumper would have withstood a small nuclear device.

In the end, "strong man" Crecco was stretched out on the ground, not moving and barely breathing. Tech headitor E-Booger was out of sight somewhere underneath the car. I could hear him babbling and striking out in random futility with the worn-out carbide saw.

The Imperial had won, sort of. In its final semi-naked state of 2680 pounds, the Imp would incinerate the tires at will. Slicks proved to be of little improvement, giving us our best time of 12.77/102.8.

E-Booger wanted to take the car street racing, but had to be convinced that while quick for a '64 Imperial, the car wasn't exactly a sleeper.

It was dark. The track owner wanted to close up shop at the track and go home to eat supper. We were gone, finished, wasted -- even in worse shape than the Imperial, which seemed to be leering at us with a half-grille victory grin. I picked up the copy of Hot Rod and took another look at the "Caddy Hack" article. At the totally bare Cadillac chassis. At the smiling crew looking fresh and crisp in the final photo of the story as they did in the first one. I gently closed the pages, rolled up the issue, and slammed it into the nearest trashcan.

Cliff Notes [5-11-05] Concours restoration of a ’69 Plymouth