Two wrecks collide—one human and one automobile—in Earl Swift’s latest book.
Meet Tommy Arney, a middle aged Virginia man with a fifth grade education, a real estate empire, and a rap sheet so long you could land an airplane on it. Arney is the poster boy for rough childhoods: orphaned by an uncaring mother, abused, pushed through a system that recognized how much trouble he was headed for but couldn’t manage to do much more than write a report about it. The whole mess left him so angry that he’ll fight anybody anytime with even the slightest provocation. This is a man who broke a bit trying to drill into a man’s skull.
But that’s all in the past. The New Tommy Arney may think about delivering a beat down and he may still cuss like a sailor, but he’s trying. He’s cobbled together a collection of businesses including restaurants, rentals, go-go bars, and Moyock Muscle, his crown jewel: part body shop, part showroom, part junkyard, nothing but classic cars. Arney sees himself as something of a historian and curator, saving American iron from the crusher. He knows the stories behind the rusted dreams littering his North Carolina property, and he understands that each story adds value to the cars waiting for someone to take them home and restore them. Tommy Arney doesn’t give up just because an old timer appears to be beyond hope.
One of the many cars at Moyock Muscle is the other star of Swift’s fascinating piece of non-fiction: a 1957 Chevy 210 Townsman station wagon. The author has been looking for an old car upon which he can hang a story—a classic that can be traced through all of its owners back to the man or woman who first drove it off the lot. Swift manages to hunt down all 13 of the ’57 Chevy’s owners, the latest of whom is our man Tommy.
Arney plans on restoring the rusted wagon to its former glory, but he has some restoration of his own to do. His brash style leaves him at odds with a city council whose ass he refuses to kiss, at least that’s how he sees it. Most readers likely will recognize “ass kissing” in this context to mean nothing more than following the typical zoning and permitting ordinances, no matter how absurd they may seem. He makes no friends with the townsfolk with his plans to open a strip club or rent one of his buildings to the Hell’s Angels for use as a clubhouse. Before it’s all over even the Hell’s Angels are dragging Arney into court.
And we’re not even close to done yet. Somehow Tommy finds himself wrapped up in the banking collapse that took down the economy in 2008. He’s at risk of losing everything: his real estate, his businesses, his family, friends, and freedom. But damned if Tommy Arney doesn’t want to see that ’57 Chevy rolling down the road, paint gleaming and engine purring.
Earl Swift has created something magical here: A narrative that interweaves current events, sin, lust, redemption, friendship, and auto restoration. You don’t have to be a car nut to dig Auto Biography, but you may be one by the time you hit Swift’s powerful last line.
—photo James Stafford