[Jamie Johnston] and fellow artisan Don Park were doing some head scratch on their latest creation; a chopped '53 Chevy coupe. "Chopped" doesn't quite cut it; this Bowtie has had four inches removed from the front section, and a radical eight inches in the rear, creating a fastback roofline long before it was fashionable. "It's a true lead sled," said Johnston. He produced a die-cast Mercury with the same custom slice, supplied by the Chevy's owner for reference purposes. "Every car is an individual. We never build the same thing twice."

Primer-finish rat rods have been steadily gaining in popularity in these parts. "The rat rod has been around for a long time," said Johnston. "All of a sudden, it's become commercialized." Park, whose formative years recall a time when Empress Street was informally known as Empress Dragways, seems somewhat perplexed by all the hub-bub. "The cars back then weren't really finished because nobody had the money," said Park. "They ran around in primer until such time that they had money to put paint on it." Those were the days when credit wasn't handed out simply because you had a pulse.

Eric Clapton might get off on '57 Chevys. The problem with signature years such as the Five-Seven is that even basket cases command their weight in gold. Cars such as the '53 are not only more fiscally responsible; they're actually available. "They're still out there," said Johnston. "My yard is a perfect example of that." There are at least 50 vehicles sitting dormant at present, with everything from a 1908 Reo to an early-'50s "bathtub" Nash with a serious frame snap. I even found my Dad's first car; a 1941 Hudson Commodore. While Johnston finds many of the vehicles in back 40s, there are plenty who come to him, from folks looking to clean out yards, sheds, or restorations in a state of terminal lost-interest.