When Blake would restore a car, the moment of truth came when he turned the key and the engine would start.
Mission accomplished, Blake washed his hands and then rewarded himself with a cigar and a glass of port.
“Remember our agreement,” he’d say to the client. “This is a car, not a collection piece.”
Blakes restorations were not meant for museums or garages.
They were meant to be loved and driven.
And when he’d hear of his successes caged in a collection, he’d go out with a sledgehammer and smash that car.
Better a wreck again than a prisoner.