About Boris Spremo: A member of the Order of Canada, Boris is a renowned photojournalist whose photographic collages depicting life in Toronto have been featured for many years in newspapers such as The Globe and Mail and The Toronto Star as well as numerous magazines throughout North America.
In 1980, I bought 1955 Mercury 4-door sedan. Mechanically it was running, however it needed lot of repairs to its frail body. For years it remained parked under a huge maple tree, covered with leaves and tree sap.
With a help from friends, we managed to tow the car to a friend’s auto body shop. As it was already October, I was told that the restoration would not be done until the early spring. Many parts had to be replaced – to lower the cost of repairs, it was suggested that I search for parts myself. I started visiting every store that carried car parts as my new hobby.
Well, it was big problem finding the parts for such a hobby. None of the auto part stores carried the correct parts, and in some stores, the salesmen never heard of them. Then I joined “Antique and Classic Car Club of Canada”, attending as many of their shows in Ontario as was possible. There I was told of few good “Car cemeteries,” or junk yards, near Toronto where I could obtain good parts from cars that were in accidents and were sitting, forgotten.
After 14 years, I sold the Mercury for a 1959 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. My search for parts started anew. One of the huge “car cemeteries” is in Whitby, Ontario owned by partners Peter Fawcett and Art Carty, who, since 1981, operate the well-known “Antique and Classic Restoration” shop.
Last time I was there Art just told me “Boris, it’s all yours, go and have a fun. If you find the parts that you need and are able to unscrew it, come back here and pay for it.
The moment I entered the yard, I was surrounded by hundreds of rusty, forgotten, broken-down cars. Some of them were neglected for years, hidden under the tall, dry grass growing around them. Others with broken parts were buried deep in the ground. On one side I spotted one with a small tree growing out of its engine compartment.
I could see one Chevrolet from 1960s that used to be police cruiser with “POLICE”, still visible on its side. I wished it could whisper some of the intriguing stories that it concealed. Many had broken windows, so the passing years had taken their toll. Tramping through the yard, it’s very hard not to think of the days when these cars were the pride and joy of someone’s family. Or perhaps a single new owner, who idolized its every curve. These cars were once the envy of their neighbourhood.
At the end of my search, it felt like a part of a once prosperous history now lay in ruins – I was leaving long-lost friends
