Matthew Turner
I first met Jim at the Auto Hobby Shop on Bergstrom AFB. He drove two small block Mopars, a Dodge Dart and a Plymouth Barracuda and he offered to help me work on my Dodge Charger. Over the next two years, I became a Mopar devotee thanks to him. Together, we bought a 1971 Dodge Charger; he wanted the 340 engine and transmission while I only wanted the rolling body. He guided me as I built a 440 to swap into it. I checked and he double-checked everything about that conversion because he was a very meticulous engineer. He was always willing to help anyone when it came to cars.
I will never forget the horrified look on his face when we towed a donor Plymouth Fury station wagon. The transmission and a disassembled 440 was loaded behind the rear seats of that station wagon. Jim was furiously trying to steer and brake that wagon which fishtailed crazily due to the excess weight in the back. Later, I towed the 1971 Charger which Jim steered and braked. It turned out that the previous owner had installed an 11x 3" brake drum on the right front wheel instead of the correct 10 x 2 ½". Every time he pushed on the brake pedal, the car pulled strongly to the left. We laughed a lot about those two cars.
Jim loved music and we both remembered a Led Zeppelin song about cars. I ended up ordering a copy of Led Zeppelin’s Physical Graffiti album and we listened to every word of Trampled Underfoot. That led to other rock and roll car songs. But, he did not love the Beach Boys’ Shut Down. He was emphatic that a Max Wedge could never lose to a 327 Corvette. And he was right. I remember he wanted me to go with him to see a young musician playing live music at a club on Sixth Street. I wish I had gone with him to hear Stevie Ray Vaughn. Jim was right again.
I worked with Jim during one summer. Everyone was polite and friendly at PlasmaQuest, just like Jim. We took our cars to the Texas Motorplex and drag raced at a club day. Neither one of us made it to the third round, but we had lots of fun. Later, he was Best Man at my wedding. That’s why I posted a photo of him wearing a tuxedo and making his toast. My wife and I visited him a couple of times, and Jim would take us to an auto race. I can still feel the thundering sound coming from those nitromethane funny cars while we watched Cruz Pedregon and John Force swerving and throttling their way down the quarter mile. Jim had taken us to that iconic race in 1992.
Mopar to ya, Jim.
