Click To Enlarge Portrait
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Click To Enlarge The Jag
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I met Tom some years ago at an
automotive event in Philadelphia.
First he was a customer, then an acquaintance, then a friend... a damn fine friend.
He made my ribs ache from laughter every time we talked or visited.
He taught me to listen more closely.
He was like a brother.
He was like a brother to hundreds.
Tom liked Jaguars and owned several, including a mint 67 E-Type.
Dark blue ragtop. Flawless condition. Heated garage. His baby.
In early October, 2001 a close friend visited him,
helped him down the stairs and into his Jaguar.
Of course Tom objected to help from anyone
plus, he wasn't thrilled about anyone but him behind the wheel.
He said the battery was probably dead or the engine just wouldn't turn over.
But the battery wasn't dead. The engine roared to life.
I just know Tom broke into his Tom grin like the grin above.
(Exactly like the grin above, exactly.)
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