Nostalgia – Armstrong Siddeley Sapphire

Here is another incredible story from Keith Belcher, in his own words, about his Dad’s Armstrong Siddeley Sapphire:

“It was a Saturday evening in the late spring of 1962. Mum and Dad had visitors in our little house in Nearmoor Road. “The Gang” as they called themselves. Dad, Dennis, Big Eric and Little Eric and their wives. A get-together with alcohol flowing was not unusual. In those days, people used to drink and drive, mostly sensibly. Being now 12 years old, after putting my little brother to bed, I stayed up and listened intensively to the adult conversation. The chatter was about the space race, JFK’s presidency, the Cold War etc. etc. The conversation turned to how Dad’s business was doing. Dad explained that he had just taken on a new business partner and things were looking up. He had promoted Ray, his second in command, to Service Manager and he had given Ray his quite new Vauxhall Victor as a company car. That left Dad driving a van. He needed funds for new plant [and an expensive planned holiday] so a new car was not really possible.

Now Big Eric was a car dealer, a lovely bloke. He was the “Spiv” type of chap, you know, you expected him to open his jacket for you to see wristwatches hung on the lining, just like George Cole in the movies. He piped up “Hey Ken. I know where there is a beautiful car going for a song!” Dad replied “What is it?” Eric: “Well, I’m not really sure. It’s something like a Princess or a Daimler, you know a limousine supposed to be in superb nick. The blokes been gone for ages and his wife just wants rid. I bet you could get it for a song.” Dad said “Not my style Eric. Too old for me don’t you think?” At that statement everyone piled in the discussion saying that he should go for it, it would suit him and other stuff. Over the evening the gang ribbed and cajoled, poked and prodded Dad, they were relentless, until he promised to follow up on that car. I remember the laughter as they left that night. Little Eric coughed and turned with his arm up behind him as if expecting a tip and said “I’ll be leaving you now Sir….” (a reference to the popular TV series Bootsie & Snudge).

A few days later I went with Dad to 290 Highbridge Road, Sutton Coldfield. The smart lady led us down her garden to a garage. Inside was this gorgeous dark grey Armstrong Siddeley Sapphire Automatic car. It was on blocks, the wheels removed and completely covered in Vaseline. With sumptuous leather interior the engine was spotless and started easily. She explained that her husband was away and was going to be away longer than expected. She didn’t volunteer why she had not advertised it, but she was concerned that the car would have to be collected in darkness, so no one would see it go. Dad made a lowball offer of £250 cash politely but in a take it or leave it manner. To his surprise she agreed.

The next day a fitter sorted the wheels, drained fuel tank and put new fuel in. Dad had that car for some two years or so. RWD 828 was a lovely car. Later when driving it around he was approached occasionally by unsavoury characters and ladies would wave at him for no apparent reason. It turned out the car had belonged to a doctor who had been imprisoned for illegal abortions & was well known to the local working girls and of course their pimps. Needless to say, the registration 187 KHA was moved from the Vauxhall to the Armstrong. It was later sold for a thumping profit.

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Nostalgia – 1960s Ford Capri

Here is another incredible story from Keith Belcher, in his own words, about his Ford Capri 2000 GT XLR:

“50 odd years ago Bristol Street Motors, Birmingham’s Ford dealer had a superb display of the sporty, rakish full four-seater coupé, it was seen as Europe’s answer to the Mustang. Launched in Brussels, it was somewhat of a departure from Ford’s standard fare. It was aimed squarely at younger drivers being billed as “The car you always promised yourself.” Initially sold with 1300cc, 1600cc and 2000cc engines [the 3000cc came later the same year]; there were more powerful GT options along with “X” “L” and “R” option packs so it could be customised to your taste.

Ford boasted that they could build 1¼ million Capris in the 26 basic models without any one of them being precisely the same! A GT gained extra power, instrumentation and better tyres. The “L” pack included extra exterior bright trim and dummy air scoops. The “X” pack gave you luxurious internal upholstery; horns and reversing lights. The “R” pack included Rostyles; leather-trimmed steering wheel; spot lamps etc. You need never visit an accessory shop again. It soon became a best seller.

Like any red-blooded petrolhead, I was well impressed. I remember going to see The Italian Job at the Futurist and seeing the 5-minute advert, I definitely wanted one. Later that year I saw the film Bullitt, with McQueen, my hero, my desire went up a notch, so my aim was a metallic dark green car. After smashing up my new Company Escort I had been reduced to driving the oldest worst cars the company could find. I soon resolved to use my savings to buy my own car and take an allowance to run it.

I had a trio of soft tops, Vitesse, Sprite and then fell for MGB’s. The MGB was driving enjoyment on another level, but I was seduced by the hype and dreams of being this dapper executive in a Ford. I thought long and hard before parting with my B.

A year or so later I discovered that employees could buy company cars that were going for exchange if you offered a few pounds more than Bristol Street Motors offered. Another plant hire company had been purchased and one of the directors had been forced to toe the company line and take a new Granada so his very expensively tuned Broadspeed Ford Cortina 1600E was going for a song. Too good to miss, that 1600E was a superb car bar for the usual Ford cold starting problems. Then one day the transport manager rang me and told me of a….wait for it….Ford Capri 2000GTXLR in dark metallic green, a year old, was due in for P/Ex and I could buy it at a much-reduced price. I didn’t need telling twice, my Cortina was sold for a thumping profit. With my blond hair and blue eyes, I was going to be Keith McBelcher, driving ace.

I recall sitting on the front step at home gazing at my highly polished baby Mustang WOE 322J not quite believing I had achieved my dream. I didn’t mind the high mileage but I soon discovered why it was so cheap. It was a dreaded “Friday afternoon car”.

Contrary to popular belief Ford were not immune to quality problems. Aside from the tail hopping loose lurchy rear end, hard ride, and high noise levels with poor wet grip; the V4 was harsh and gave nowhere near the performance of my Broadspeed 1600E. The large doors rattled and clanged shut. The headlamps were poor and the spotlights useless. The fake wood interior looked awful, trim bits loosened and fell off. Then it started to run rough sometimes. I was less Keith McBelcher and more Reginald Molehusband.

Then the final straw, the engine died 100 miles from home. It turned out to be a holed piston. No doubt caused by the fitting of hotter plugs. Gladly a piston was sourced and fitted, engine in situ, in a few hours. It was advertised the next day and sold within a week.

The downside – I was back to driving an old Bedford HA van purchased for £25 and hand painted. On the upside, I had made enough profit on the two Fords to order a brand-new MGB GT. A few months later, I was driving a proper sports car.

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Nostalgia – 1961 Alvis TD21

On the 6th of September 2021, we posted on the Bridge Classic Cars Facebook page telling the story of a 1961 Alvis TD21 that unexpectedly arrived at the workshop for an urgent repair on its way to a car show.

Then, just a couple of weeks ago, Stephen Jenkins sent us a message saying he had just seen the post and instantly recognised the car. As it turns out, the car used to belong to his Father.

This is the story of Steve and a 1961 Alvis TD21 in his own words.

“My earliest memory of 867 WTF was when my father met the first owner at ‘The Bear’ Hotel in Cowbridge, Glamorgan. It was one of those ‘gentlemen’ agreements in the evening at about 7 pm. I was 10 and excited. My dad exchanged a Humber Hawk, and if I recall correctly £1100 for the Alvis TD21. The first owner was a ‘titled’ gentleman, but I cannot remember for sure, but believe he was an Earl. Needless to say, it had a big impact on me as the Alvis was just so amazing to look at.

My father decided he needed a better car after a ‘race’ with a Mini Cooper, which exposed how cumbersome the Humber was. Our parents owned a Jewellers shop in Port Talbot in the 60s and 70s and they used the car regularly, and I went whenever possible. No matter the journey.

I grew up in this car, although my siblings and I were sick in the car on a number of occasions. It was a light grey interior back then with a strong smell of leather. We often went to London as we had grandparents there, and it was the long journeys where it was worse.

I always felt special whenever we went anywhere and also sat in it to play driving whenever I could. He had the car serviced at the Alvis factory a few times, and I also had the pleasure of going to the factory and had a tour when I was about 13, enlightening me to how significant Alvis had been over the years. Seeing a pre-war ‘front wheel’ drive car, at a time I thought the ‘Mini’ had invented such a thing 😉

Experiences I remember are as below:-

On several occasions my father experienced ‘wheel shake’ through the steering, so bad he nearly lost control. I think one of the factory visits was to examine why. However, the eventual solution was fitting the ‘new’ Michelin X all around the car. It was a much better drive after that according to my dad.

The heater blower failed and it proved a major headache to find someone to fix it locally.

Being young I asked what the ‘F’ button was for. My dad told me ‘The flaps’ to help at high speed. I believed that for years, even pulling the button and looking underneath more than once. Of course, I felt silly when I discovered it was the ‘fog lights’ switch!!

Corrosion was an issue between the screen base by the A-post, and the roof base (C pillar) by the time my father decided to sell the car. He was recommended to buy a Volvo 164 3-litre. No test drives were available locally, so he bought it blind. He soon regretted this, as the Volvo was a ‘tank to drive’, his words, after the Alvis.

He sold the car to Neath Motors who gave him £180 trade-in in 1969/70. They did the repairs to the bodywork and then had it in their showroom for £800. By then I was working and would stay on the bus passing my stop, so I could get off near the garage and look at the car in their showroom, and then walk home.

So, I have not seen or heard of the car for 53 years and recently was given a video of an 8mm cine film my dad had taken in the early 60s. I took that ‘snapshot’ from the film. This gave me the reg number. This car led to a lifelong love of cars, but I have never been in the position to buy an Alvis.

It was great to get a reply on a Facebook post, informing me you had looked after the car in recent years. I already knew of you having entered some of your car competitions.

Moving memories for me.

Steve Jenkins”

Full project details of the work we completed on this 1961 Alvis TD21 can be seen here.

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If you have memories of a special vehicle, we’d love to share them. Simply email rob@bridgeclassiccars.co.uk with some photos and why your vehicle means so much to you.

Nostalgia – 1960s Ford Escort

Here is another incredible story from Keith Belcher about his first company car:

“Fifty-odd years ago, or so, Wednesday 18th December 1968, to be exact, an event occurred which changed my life forever, I had a car accident. Whilst my injuries were not actually life-threatening, at the time it was very painful, but let me explain.

The previous summer I was 18 years old, I was enjoying my job in plant hire and was doing quite well at it. I have always been quite good at systems and implementing them. I was working at the Shirley depot and the company had just taken over another firm in Lichfield. I suppose I was the obvious choice to move to the company and convert them to our well-proven systems. So, to my delight, I was told I was going to be issued a company car.

The Company mainly used Vauxhalls at that time so I pored over the new Viva HB brochure. I loved the coke bottle shape of it and the stubby gear change was great. Although I lusted over the more powerful SL90 I knew I would get just a base 1200 model. I started at Lichfield and a couple of weeks later I was asked to report to head office to pick up my new car.

So the next morning I got a lift to the head office and reported to the transport managers’ office. The first thing he said was “What colour do you want Keith?” I replied, “I would prefer blue.” To which he said with a wry smile “You can have green, green or green?” So green it was going to be then. I signed the paperwork and followed him to the garage.

Going in I could only see 3 new green Ford Escorts. I complained, “I was told I was getting a Viva!” He replied, “We have signed a new deal with Bristol Street Motors and we are going to have Fords from now on.” The shape was somewhat boring compared with a racy Viva and besides Fords had a reputation for not starting in the winter. But hey I was told never to look a gift horse in the mouth and went on my way to Lichfield.

I soon fitted a Radiomobile radio, bullet wing mirrors, and spotlights, all funded by the sale of my old Viva HA. A regular visitor to Hednesford Hills Raceway for stock car racing, a sticker was affixed to the rear window. At weekends I would remove the hubcaps and the air cleaner [to get that loud sucking sound], I had my new rally car. You can guess I was the envy of my mates, only 18 with a new car!

That Wednesday evening we had been rehearsing our band at the Chesterfield Club in Castle Bromwich so I was quite warm after drumming for a couple of hours. When we finished, Cathy Phillips, the club owner’s daughter and our band secretary said that one of the bar staff had not turned in and it was getting busy. She had contacted a replacement who couldn’t get to the club so I volunteered to go and collect her and we could get some fish and chips on the way back. The air was not cold [at least to me] when we went outside to my car. Cathy and my friend Bernard decided to come with me. The journey of around 6 miles or so didn’t take long but I hadn’t noticed that the air temperature was dropping very fast. The road was damp but it was not raining.

When you are young you don’t see danger; you think you are going to live forever. I was, I thought, a good driver and not the slowest around, I already had 2 speeding tickets; I went round a small island on the Warwick road, a quick left and right…….Then my car was floating totally out of control on a sheet of black ice. We hit a car travelling towards us head-on with a combined speed of around 50 – 60 mph. With no seat belts, my head struck the steering wheel and I passed out for a minute or so. Cathy, who sat next to me got a cut on her leg needing stitches, but Bernard, who had been sitting in the back leaning forward chatting to us, was nowhere to be seen.

Cathy, to this day, swears she got out of the car and saw Bernard sitting cross-legged dazed in the road 10 yards away. She hadn’t let him out of the two-door car [Bernard never remembered what happened]. The windscreen had shattered so we can only assume that he had been catapulted through it. Gladly he was totally uninjured. The other driver and passenger were slightly injured.

The impact had knocked out or broken 6 of my bottom front teeth and the roots were protruding through my chin. I was pouring blood and it took 20 minutes for the fire brigade to extract me from the car. The pain when they cut through my gums to remove the teeth I will remember forever. I have worn a bottom denture since.

The Police prosecuted me for undue care and attention. In law, there is no such thing as an accident. It is always someone’s fault. I got another endorsement but after pleading they let me keep my licence. No replacement car for me then. The oldest worn-out thing they could find. Ah well c’est la vie. But it led me on the path to my first MGB.

There is an old wife’s tale about your whole life flashing past your eyes in slow motion with traumas like this. I can tell you it is absolutely true. But I think that event saved my life. I made some decisions that night. To be a better driver I went on two driving courses. Never leave an argument unfinished. When you love someone, tell them, don’t hold back. And probably the best one is one of my father’s mottos; don’t go through life wishing you had done something, do it and worry about it afterwards.

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Nostalgia – 1967 MGB

Here is an incredible story from Keith Belcher about his first MGB, told in his own words:

“We left Castle Bromwich at 3:30pm on Saturday 12^th June 1971 in my gleaming 1967 MGB soft top. It was drizzling but that couldn’t blunt our enthusiasm for the trip. The beautiful hollow sound from the new exhaust could be heard through the hood and the Beach Boys were singing California Girls in glorious stereo on the 8-track player.

Me and Helen had planned the holiday in detail. Two weeks camping in Calella by Lloret de Mar in Spain. We met up with friend Bernie in his ’64 MGB sports and his co-pilot John at Stonebridge. By 11pm we were at Dover, on the ferry and at 1am arrived in France. We were soon seeking a layby to rest up for a sleep.

After some packed sandwiches early morning, we were on our way again. The drive [before motorways remember] along those tall, tree-lined, endless narrow roads was superb if somewhat boring. But with the sun shining, the roof stowed, the wind in the hair made up for that. In some of the villages along the way, the sound of 2 MGBs approaching was unmistakable. Locals would come out and wave at us.

Paris in the morning is special. The Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame, the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile and the bridges over the Seine are sights to behold. Bourges, Limoges through Toulouse heading for a sightseeing tour of Andorra. The driving through the Pyrenees mountains is quite addictive.

We arrived at the pre-planned campsite “El Toro Azul” around 3pm in the afternoon. A few metres from the beach, the site was ideal. The facilities were basic, but then they were everywhere in those days. We did plenty of sightseeing, venturing as far as Barcelona to the south, which was quite congested, even in ’71. Many evenings were spent in Lloret de Mar, back then it was known for its nightlife. It turned out to be a great holiday, the 3 s’s. Sun, Sea and S-s-s-s-angria. Ah ha….. I know what you were thinking……

So, here is where I digress for a bit. Me and Helen had prepared in depth for this trip. Back then you had to apply for an international translation of your driving licence, a Green Card extension to your car insurance. We took the precaution of AA 24-hour International Recovery, a complete service and new exhaust on the car. Now being somewhat of an enthusiastic mechanic, my MGB was in superb fettle. A week or so before departure I heard a feint tinkling from the gearbox. The gearbox was removed and rebuilt with all-new roller and needle bearings. There was no way I was going to break down. Would you believe over the whole trip we achieved over 30 miles to the gallon and we didn’t have overdrive! I shudder to think now but stuff was stowed everywhere in and on the car. Even the spaces under the wings and in front of the radiator were stocked with spare parts I thought I might need as well as tools.

Now for my pal Bernie things were a bit different. His decision to accompany us was somewhat late in the day. He only just managed to get his papers sorted in time. His MGB Roadster was a 1964 and to put it frankly was just not in as good condition as mine. I don’t even think he serviced it before the trip. But hey ho, what the heck, throw some clothes in a rucksack, just pile in and go….That was Bernie.

Back to the story. On the last but one day of the holiday we decided to meet up in Lloret. The chaps went off before us, we had some packing to sort. Later we went to meet them. They were in the agreed parking lot, but John was nowhere to be seen and asked where he was. Bernie said “He’s just walked over that way; hang on I’ll give him a shout.” Bernie got out of his MG. He held on to the windscreen, put one foot on the car door sill and was about to stand up on it. As he crouched slightly to launch upwards, his other foot, which was on a metal water soakaway, slipped and all his weight went on that sill. He fell over into the car and hit his head on the gear lever. But more ominously there was a loud metallic crunch. His car sill had broken in half [almost].

Fortunately, his head banging didn’t hurt too much but his worry was his MGB. We parked up and went back to help. We found Bernie, sat on the ground, obviously seeing stars, mumbling “What the heck am I going to do?” He had found that he couldn’t shut the door. The body had sunk and a crack appeared in the floor. After discussing the alternatives, which included our lack of funds, there was only one thing to do. We jacked the car up to shut the door and just carry on regardless.

OMG, we had to stifle our laughter. To cut the story short, that really put the muckers on his holiday. He knew a big repair bill was in the offing. We took on board much of their luggage. We left at 12:15 on Thursday 24th and got to Calais at 11pm Friday. When loading the cars on the 8.15am ferry we, and some crew had to lift Bernie’s car over the small ramp steps to get it on board. What Bernie omitted to tell us was that each time we stopped on the journey he took a peek at the floor; the crack was gradually approaching the tunnel. We got Bernie home safely and arrived home at 3.30 pm totally tired out and slept the rest of the afternoon on the settee.

What a superb holiday! I can’t remember ever laughing so much. But there is a moral here:

The PAIN in the BRAIN is caused mainly by the DRAIN.

OK, I’ll get my coat. ©Keith Belcher 2020

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If you have memories of a special vehicle, we’d love to share them. Simply email rob@bridgeclassiccars.co.uk with some photos and why your vehicle means so much to you.

Nostalgia – 1970 Ford Cortina 1600 GT

Our very special 1970 Ford Cortina 1600 GT comes with a lot of history and a very personal local story. Richard, the car’s previous owner tells this story below in his own words:

“My stepdad bought the car new from Pat Keebles in March 1970. He traded in a MK1 Cortina GT for it as it was only a 2-door car and he wanted a 4-door car.  I was 10 years old when he bought it and really enjoyed sitting in the back on days out. 

He had not had it long when he went out 1 evening and got to the crossroads at Saxmundham to cross over to go to Leiston. It was just about dark and as he went to cross he spotted a shadow on his right, stopped and then bang a young girl on a moped with no lights on, hit the car dead centre of the 2 offside doors and her helmet hit the roof. Needless to say, she was not hurt, just a few bruises but the car had to have the 2 doors replaced.

It was a great car. He used to paint oil & grease on the chassis every year, which is why it is so solid. It was an everyday car for many years until he got a modern car. Then the GT was only used on weekends. I think that is where I got the bug for a MK2 Cortina having had a few 1600Es myself. The last 1600E I had, I kept for 30 years. We used to go to many classic car shows together; my E and my dad’s GT, they were great times but I was never allowed to drive the GT.

I could clean it for him & check the levels but not drive it so after he passed away I drove it for the first time and it was amazing, it drove better than my E.

The GT still has its original interior with no rips as he had seat covers on it from new & still has the original engine and running gear. If you look at the top of the front screen it still has its original GT sticker from new and the same as the GT sticker on the glove box.

I decided, in 2019, to have the GT restored so it had a bare metal respray and 2 new rear arches. When they cleaned all the old 50 years oil & grease off the chassis it was like new and only needed 2 small areas of rust done. It looked amazing when it was done but sadly, after I got the car back, my wife got ill and sadly passed away. We always went to car shows together so I did do a couple of shows on my own but it was not the same and I lost interest, so that is why I decided to sell it.

I came and saw Gordon and he loved the car so he ended up buying it. I do miss it very much but I have no one to pass it on to so it was a hard decision to sell it.

I hope whoever wins it the second time around will cherish it as my dad and I did and yes I will buy a ticket, as you never know I could win it back again. If you want to pass my name on to the new winner I would gladly give them as much information about the GT as I can.”

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If you have memories of a special vehicle, we’d love to share them. Simply email rob@bridgeclassiccars.co.uk with some photos and why your vehicle means so much to you.