“Really it’s like nothing you have ever seen.” With those intriguing words, my gym buddy Chris lit a fire under my curiosity. He told me of a skilled and, some night say, eccentric car fabricator with tastes that blended Batman, Mad Max and George Barris. Residing on a rural spread of land, he brought to life blown, big block monster executions born of a wild imagination.

His name is Gary.

Hot Rod Missionary and his monster machines

Dragon Express

Gary

Any doubts about Gary giving an “interesting” interview quickly dissipated when he prepared to speak by pulling on a leather biker’s helmet with a fake black pony tail. No question, for creativity and passion, Gary, by far more than anyone I have ever encountered in my life, embodies the defining qualities of Doc Brown of “Back to the Future” fame.

Bedecked in helmet and ponytail Gary unleashed an uninterrupted and interwoven torrent of one-off car descriptions, mind bending technical “how to” and personal philosophy. He projected a firm determination to create the most content rich and complex sentences. He succeeded.

I use Gary’s first name only because he prefers the anonymity that his backwoods location affords. He says, “I like to be a good neighbor so I maintain my property with vehicles neatly arranged amongst the concrete and steel life size statues of horses and angels. That being said, I know it makes for an attention grabbing display. Locating my place on a map would flood the neighborhood with Japanese tour busses and throngs of camera happy tourists. Like I said, I want to be a good neighbor.”

Pretty much a self-made man, Gary retired young after a successful career in home building and real estate. Possessing a natural gift for fabrication skills, he mastered a full palette of capabilities that equipped him to bring to life the fruits of his wild imagination.

The well tended grounds containing Dave’s assemblage of Monster machines presents a fascinating landscape of coordinated chaos.  It is populated with open barns stocked with wild gothic themed engineering marvels, sheds stocked high with power equipment, tools of all stripes, parts and pieces and more, much more.

When asked where he finds the materials and power train components for his projects, Gary points to two brand […]

Creating a media frenzy over thirty years ago, it could have destroyed a globally respected brand. To recall just what happened, I interviewed retired Volvo PR Manager Bob Austin, a key player in what proved to be a template for effectively managing a potential corporate crisis.

The monster truck that nearly crushed Volvo

Inspired by car punishing monster truck events exploding on the scene in the late 1980s, Volvo in October of 1990 released a compelling TV commercial intended to promote its legendary rugged construction. Once broadcast, the ad would instead plunge Volvo into crisis.

On what should have been one of life’s better days, Volvo PR Manager Bob Austin’s honeymoon was interrupted by a phone call from Volvo Corporate Counsel, Bob Mercer. Mercer quickly popped Austin’s bubble of bliss and cut to the chase saying, “Can you be in the office tomorrow?” “What’s up?” asked Austin. “Better you should come in,” Mercer replied. Thus began what Austin, decades later, would recall as three of the most stressful months of his life.

At Volvo headquarters, sitting across from Mercer, Austin learned that the office of the Texas Attorney General, Jim Mattox would be charging Volvo with knowingly creating a fraudulent and misleading television commercial.

Looming as exhibit 1 supporting Mattox’s startling accusation stood the Volvo television and print campaign that would forever be known as “Monster Truck.”

Concerned to say the least, Mercer asked Austin if he knew anything that could account for this accusation. Austin stated that he was unaware of any problem. Mercer quickly changed that by dumping it squarely in Austin’s lap.

“Monster Truck” as a concept found its inspiration in an actual monster truck event held on September 11th 1988 in Essex Junction, Vermont.

By happenstance a person associated with Volvo’s ad agency at the time, Scali, McCabe and Sloves, while on vacation had attended that Essex Junction event. On that September day in a dynamic flurry of flying dirt, waving flags, and bleachers filled with screaming fans an airborne monster truck set out to crush a row of cars. After a few passes by the massive monster truck the agency employee realized that, unlike the other vehicles in the row of sacrificial cars, a lone Volvo had stood up to the pounding with its roof remaining defiantly upright. Inspired by what he witnessed, the vacationing employee acquired video of the event. […]

While driving north along Virginia Route 29 I spotted a forest richly populated with orphaned trucks from the 1950s. I quickly pulled over to a clean white two-bay shop that resided on the high ground above the forest. A hand lettered sign identified the business as Melvin’s Used Cars. I drove up in the hope of finding Melvin and asking, “What’s your story?”

Well groomed and neatly attired in crisp work clothes, the man I came to know as Mel stood by an open bay. Friendly and engaging, Mel indeed had a story. He had a field of old cars that once numbered almost 500. Interestingly when I expressed my interest in writing his story, Mel repeatedly redirected the conversation to his friend R. J. Pinto who he clearly felt had better stories. As luck would have it, in mid-sentence Mel yelled, “It’s him. It’s Pinto,” as R. J. Pinto pulled in off the highway. In short order it would become evident that Mel’s story would be written another day as I was about to meet Pinto. And, now, so are you.

Drank with Arlo, Dated Alice, Tuned Evel’s motorcycle and much more. They call him Pinto.

Pinto and Mel

Pinto bundles the vigor of a colorful yarn spinner in an 85-year old, burly, gregarious, engaging and earthy package. Pinto still communicates the vitality of a young man who savors grabbing life by the horns. At the same time he reflects on life with a mellowed perspective and insights refined through eight decades of having ones heart and soul polished by the abrading rapids encountered while navigating the river of life.

A brief introduction by Mel tees up what will be a fast moving morning of storytelling. Belying Pinto’s approaching 86^th birthday his memories possess a crispness that brings them to life. Being on the receiving end of Pinto’s rapid fire delivery feels like taking a drink from a fire hose.

Born in Middletown, New York, Pinto, a Korean War Veteran, began a lifelong love for all things motorcycle in the 1950s. It would be an affection that would lead down many paths and involve him in iconic events of the 20^th century American culture.

In the 1960s his passion for motorcycles brought him to a little restaurant called “The Back Room” in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Purchased by […]