February 27, 2008 - Got a piece of sad news today, just after I returned to the office from lunch: Boyd Coddington died this morning.

Though he’s not as well known for hand-crafting Corvette-based show cars as he is for his creations based on other car-makers’ products, Vette Rodders came to appreciate the big billet wheels that his shop turned out, and which fill more than a few Vette Rods’ fenderwells. (Let's not forget the other CNC-machined Boyd Coddington billet parts.) Also, his clean-lines design philosophy is seen on Vette Rods that have every body trim piece shaved off, all the better to show off the classic lines that Chevy’s Styling crew penned.

My connection to Boyd was professional. About a decade ago, when I was editing DRIVE! Magazine in California, he did a monthly column for us (“Boyd Unplugged”). Actually, he and I did it together—I’d roll my tape recorder and we’d chat about what was going on in the hot-rodding world in general, and what all was going on around his shop, in particular. Then, I’d transcribe the tape, carve a 750-word column out of it, and fax it from my office in Concord, California to his shop in Orange County. He’d fax back any corrections, changes or updates, which I passed along to our production crew when they put the magazine together.

When my daily-driven ponycar was turned into a magazine project, his wheel shop contributed a set of five-spoke wheels. When I flew to Orange County, California to pick it up after the new wheels were fitted, Boyd picked me up at John Wayne/Orange County Airport and gave me a lift back to his shop, chatting about what else was planned for my car, etc. When I saw how the wheels—18 x 9 inches in front, 18 x 10 in back—and the huge slabs of rubber they wore fit inside my fenderwells, I was astounded. This was certainly the work of a master’s shop, not just in the looks department. This was a candidate for the Guinness Book of World Records under “Biggest Set Of Billet Wheels Ever Fitted To A Ponycar Without Flaring The Fenders Or Quarters.” With that steamroller-wide rolling stock on my car, the run back up North was a very steady one on one of California’s unsteadiest freeways. Handling was tons better than it ever was, and the car’s looks were improved by about 1000%.

Boyd inspired two distinct facets of the car hobby. One was at the high end, especially his one-off creations that won the prestigious “America’s Most Beautiful Roadster” award at the Grand National Roadster Show an unprecedented seven times in that show’s 59-year history. At the other end of the dollars-into-the-car scale, he was also an inspiration—or, an “anti-inspiration.” Each September, there’s a huge show in Northern California at the Antioch fairgrounds called “Billetproof,” which showcases the mechanical skills and metal-working artistry of those who put unlimited creativity into their traditionally-built hot rods and customs, while not putting in unlimited money into specially made parts or thousands of hours of high buck shop labor. It started as a small show by a group of devoted, traditional-style rodders, customizers and car builders who rebelled against the high-dollar, high-end creations of Boyd and others by building cars their way. Over the past decade, Billetproof outgrew several venues, and now fills the Antioch, California fairgrounds fence-to-fence with cars whose looks are 180 degrees away from Boyd’s creations. Inspiring one group of talented craftsmen and women is one thing, but inspiring two groups that are vastly different to create distinctive eye-grabbers is something else again, and that’s something that Boyd Coddington should be remembered for, too.

Regardless of whether you put a zillion dollars into a car you had built for you, or if you scrounged every piece in it from vendors at every swap meet within 200 miles of your unheated one-car garage and built it yourself, Boyd shared one piece of wisdom with me concerning any newly-built or restored car. In one of his columns, he said that if anything is going to break, come apart, unglued or go wrong on a just-finished car, it will likely happen in the first 200 or so miles after it’s built. So, before heading out on a cross-country road trip to an event like Mid America’s Corvette Funfest, or to any big fairgrounds-filling show that’s halfway across the continent, he suggested that you make a short “shakedown run” beforehand of no more than 100 miles in each direction--100 miles out, then 100 miles back. That way, if something should go wrong, you’re not too far from home and any help needed to get your ride underway again, or at least towed home atop a buddy’s trailer.

Thanks for the tip, Boyd. (And everything else.)