This post has been moved and can be found at www.AgainstTheGoads.com
Self-proclaimed lover of God and of automobiles, Howard Durst of Topeka, KS, doesn't attend church except on the occasional holiday, and does not garage any of his cars. What some would see as apparent neglect of a long-time family heirloom, the 1957 baby-blue Chevy Bel Air just sits there most of the time. "Just like me. It never goes in the garage, but it's still a car and I'm an enthusiast. I don't go to church, but I still believe in God and I'm a Christian!"
Durst says that the condition of his soul and of his car is really something personal between him and God, and isn't subject to traditional means of understanding of thoughts and action. Though there are many options for attending a local church in his area and he has an attached garage, he makes use of neither. Howard explained, "I am what I am, regardless of what people think. My relationship with God is very personal, and so is my car care."
When questioned on this seeming contradiction as to why he is letting his car sit out on the street, in the elements and where thieves can break in easily; all while claiming to be a classic-car enthusiast, Howard told us, "You don't know how many times I've been asked that. Many people think they can judge me, or judge my car, but they don't know me and they don't know my car. I don't have to go to church to be a Christian--you must know this. I know you do. I also don't have to garage my 1957 Chevy in order to be a car enthusiast. Look at her sitting out there in the Sun all warm and radiant. Aint' she a beaut?". Holding a can of beer and shaking it in the general direction of the bird-poop laden classic, he went on. "You see a rusty, chipping, and barely running hunk of junk, but what I see is pure beauty just the way the engineers at Chevy intended it. You think they meant for it to just sit in a garage, well-taken care of, well maintained, and all that nonsense? I don't believe in organized car care. I'm my own man, and she is her own car. Look at her. She is in her element, can't you see? Sitting out there like that, wow." Howard let out a loud belch, "YES SSIIIIIIRRRRRRR!"
Just then as we stared at it outside, a child across the street kicked a ball into the side mirror, twisting it about. I looked at Howard and my eyes were wide, expecting at this point he would get up and say something about what we just saw. To my amazement he just sat there calm and collected. He commented, "Lookie, there, more character!" Howard crushed the beer can onto his forehead, and threw it into a pile in the corner. Nearby were dusty hot rod magazines and a lone Bible--all of it covered in beer splatter from years of non-use.
As I was pulling away from Howard's home that day, I stopped to watch him as he went out to pick up the side mirror that had fallen off at this point. Howard briefly tried to stick it back on, but with very little effort it proved fruitless and he gave up after only a few seconds Walking with it in hand back up to the house, he threw the side mirror it into the garbage can outside with an impressive moving hook shot, followed by a fist pump celebration.