About Michael Murphy
Mick Murphy was a friend of mine. I don’t know when it happened. We met after he`d left a note under the windshield wiper of my Mini asking if I liked British cars. So I guess it evolved from that. This friendship continued through the formation of this club and Mick took up residence in the passenger seat whenever there was a trip to Bronte or Ancaster.
Mick was a trusting soul. Don`t laugh. He`d taken a pair of 1977 MGB fenders to a body shop for repair and couldn`t understand what happened to them when he went back 3 years later. Of course, they`d been thrown them out long ago. I found a pair of used fenders from Mike Smolders and Mick couldn`t thank me enough when I gave them to him. He said he`d hang them right away and that`s what he`d done. Hang them in position on the car. They remain there 20 years on.
Ask John Bray about the search for the Mini gear lever! Or the Rover SD1 body job from Maaco. Or the time I forgot him at the Tom Horton’s parking lot on return from Bronte.
Mick was a hoarder. I used to refer to his property on Hamilton Road as a “BMC” graveyard. Between Land Rovers, Minis, a pair of Rover cars and a few VW Rabbits, nothing was for sale, but Mick believed he was sitting on a financial gold mine for when the time was ripe. The city of London didn’t agree so they were gone.
As his time grew near, Mick informed Kent McNeill and myself of his bequest to his ‘mates’ of everything in the garage. Most of it’s still there. We can’t get anything out as it’s all overgrown after 40 years. Of course anything not broken is rusted in place.
He always had time for “a spit and a drag” and a “natter”.
He was complicated, contrary and quite a character but somehow, we got on. My passenger seat will always be reserved for him because as first stated, Mick was a friend of mine.
Courtesy of Jim Kerr
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