| user warning: Duplicate entry '1231640833' for key 2
query: cache_set
INSERT INTO cache_filter (cid, data, created, expire, headers) VALUES ('3:f18255e19c1cc8e1833d53305ac2d843', '<p>They don\'t call the acres of old cars at Lane\'s Garage a junk or a scrap yard. They call them a graveyard. I first saw them four years ago when I followed some rutted tracks into the overgrown woods behind the shop. </p>\n<p>[jungle sounds] </p>\n<p>I felt like an explorer. </p>\n<p>Rusting hulks of cars from the 30\'s, 40\'s and 50\'s lurked in the shade, </p>\n<p>[jungle sounds]</p>\n<p>large bulbous shaped creatures with broken eyes and missing teeth, staring out from the cover of the bushes and trees that had grown up like cages around them. </p>\n<div style=\"float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/files/images/caruk.jpg\" alt=\"A 1930\'s sedan eases into the forest floor. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>A 1930\'s sedan eases into the forest floor. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>Think Central American jungle and huge Mayan carvings buried in vines.</p>\n<p> [abrupt stop of jungle sounds]</p>\n<p>OK.</p>\n<p> These are relics of American car culture, not some lost civilization, at least not yet. But that doesn\'t mean they aren\'t objects of reverence.</p>\n<p>CUT: We heard a couple of people say, Oh this is our Mecca.</p>\n<p>Ron Lane, co-owner, son of the founder of Lane\'s Garage, loves nothing more than to show people around.</p>\n<p>CUT: I think you will find, there isn\'t a single person who doesn’t get excited, they are amazed. </p>\n<p>Ron is 46. His affection for cars is in his DNA. His grandfather had a gas station in Concord. His father opened a garage in Loudon. So, let the tour begin.</p>\n<p>CUT: Where we\'re going to go now, this is the first field that we put cars in . We moved here in 78 from the other end of town. We been in town since 66. And my father always wanted to buy this farm so we could have more room to put cars</p>\n<p>This is no quick tour. Just about every inch of these 22 acres has been given over to these vehicles from a past era. They lined them up along the old stone walls. They lined them up along the hedge rows. There are about 350 in various states of decay. Ron stood near the entrance and started naming the ones he could see just from that one spot.</p>\n<div style=\"float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carline.jpg\" alt=\"Most of these cars were hauled here in 1978. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>Most of these cars were hauled here in 1977. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>CUT: 56 Chevy, 35 Ford slant back, 60 Chevy, 55 Chevy, 61 Chevy staion, 63 Falcon, another 60 Chevy./fade down</p>\n<p>Ron\'s father would buy just about any vintage car, even ones already eaten through with rust. Some are by car makers that still survive, Dodge, Buick, Ford. Some are by those that have gone extinct, Hudson, DeSoto, Henry J, and Nash. The Nash is surreal. We cross a field to get a closer look.</p>\n<p>CUT: I call them Dick Tracy cars. You remember he Dick Tracy cartoons? And they had that big long sleek car. And that\'s what these cars looked like.</p>\n<p>It\'s a space ship of a car, designed to slice through the galaxy not just mere traffic. Too bad for the Nash, it had the earthly tendency to rust. Ron pulls back a fallen branch that leans against the door. </p>\n<p>CUT: Every winter and windstorm it gets worse. But you can see, check out all the room in the back seat. And this one had a fold down armrest in the middle. //sound of door opening// Check this out, each side had its own cigarette lighter and ash tray. This was before smoking was, you know, criminal. Look at the size of the steering wheel. Like being at the helm. It wasn\'t like driving a car. It was driving a boat. </p>\n<div style=\"float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carnash.jpg\" alt=\"The Nash - 1950-1952. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>The Nash - 1950-1952. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>A rusty engine part sits on the fender of the Nash. Ron tells me it\'s a cylinder head. A customer left it there 15 years ago. That\'s the theme of this place. People put things down and just leave them. There\'s a small red German sports car. Called a Goliath; some marketer had a sense of humor. </p>\n<p>CUT: That actually belonged to good friend of the family, he parked it here and he never come and got it. It\'s a rare car. // How long has been sitting there?/ Right there. 20 years anyway. </p>\n<div style=\"float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/cargoliath.jpg\" alt=\"The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>The Goliath has been there so long, a tree grew up next to it. Its trunk has molded itself around the front fender. A branch grows up through the grill. Car and nature are fusing.</p>\n<p>These cars aren\'t simply here. Ron sells parts off them. The people who restore old cars know about places like this. In a far back corner of the woods, Ron shows me a 1939 Buick. An imposing beast, 3 tons of black steel hiding in the overgrowth. Ron guesses that the fenders are worth at least 500 dollars each.</p>\n<p>CUT: This was a very expensive car in its day. this was what they called a formal. A congressman or senator, didn\'t want to drive Caddy, but a Buick, fiscally repsonsibel but I had a nice car too. </p>\n<p>The Buick’s fenders have no prospective buyer, but selling is secondary. For Ron and his family, this place is a sort of social service agency.</p>\n<p>CUT: We don’t consider this a scrap yard. My father calls this a vintage sanctuary, like the old folks home for old cars, they hang out, not go to scrap yard and become Hyundai’s, and rebar. </p>\n<p>If this is a nursing home, it\'s the nursing home of hard knocks. The weather beats down. Wild animals make their homes in the cars; Ron once saw a woodchuck inside a Chevy, sunning himself on the front dash. But for Ron, better that than having no place to see how much car culture has changed.</p>\n<p>CUT: A new Toyota Camry will never be an antique car. You\'ll never see one in a car show. You\'ll never see one in a parade. See what I\'m saying. I mean, it\'s not the same. It\'s different. I say they stopped making cars in \'73. </p>\n<p>In 1973, there was the oil embargo. Cars began to get smaller and the American car industry began its slow descent. Ron says this place is just a way to fight the future.</p>\n<p>Cut: Sometimes you can\'t give up the past. You don\'t want to give up the past. You don\'t want to say, OK, this is never going to be again, so .. It\'s just, that\'s why people hold on to pictures of their old relatives. I think it\'s the same idea for me. You can come out here, you can still look at the old cars and you\'re like, OK, it\'s still, we\'re not in the future yet. </p>\n<p>But the future hangs over this place. Nature is unstoppable and walking through the car graveyard is a humbling reminder.</p>\n<p>These hulks come from America\'s heyday when we felt as though we soared over the troubles of the world.</p>\n<p>Seeing the moss growing in emerald clumps on the hoods and pulling aside the bushes growing inside and over the dashboards, I think of the Mayans. There was a time when they rode high too.</p>\n<p>[jungle sounds up]</p>\n', 1231554433, 1231640833, '') in /var/www/htdocs-v5/includes/database.mysql.inc on line 172. |
| trigger_error | /var/www/htdocs-v5/includes/database.mysql.inc: 172 | Duplicate entry '1231640833' for key 2
query: cache_set
INSERT INTO cache_filter (cid, data, created, expire, headers) VALUES ('3:f18255e19c1cc8e1833d53305ac2d843', '<p>They don\'t call the acres of old cars at Lane\'s Garage a junk or a scrap yard. They call them a graveyard. I first saw them four years ago when I followed some rutted tracks into the overgrown woods behind the shop. </p>\n<p>[jungle sounds] </p>\n<p>I felt like an explorer. </p>\n<p>Rusting hulks of cars from the 30\'s, 40\'s and 50\'s lurked in the shade, </p>\n<p>[jungle sounds]</p>\n<p>large bulbous shaped creatures with broken eyes and missing teeth, staring out from the cover of the bushes and trees that had grown up like cages around them. </p>\n<div style=\"float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/files/images/caruk.jpg\" alt=\"A 1930\'s sedan eases into the forest floor. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>A 1930\'s sedan eases into the forest floor. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>Think Central American jungle and huge Mayan carvings buried in vines.</p>\n<p> [abrupt stop of jungle sounds]</p>\n<p>OK.</p>\n<p> These are relics of American car culture, not some lost civilization, at least not yet. But that doesn\'t mean they aren\'t objects of reverence.</p>\n<p>CUT: We heard a couple of people say, Oh this is our Mecca.</p>\n<p>Ron Lane, co-owner, son of the founder of Lane\'s Garage, loves nothing more than to show people around.</p>\n<p>CUT: I think you will find, there isn\'t a single person who doesn’t get excited, they are amazed. </p>\n<p>Ron is 46. His affection for cars is in his DNA. His grandfather had a gas station in Concord. His father opened a garage in Loudon. So, let the tour begin.</p>\n<p>CUT: Where we\'re going to go now, this is the first field that we put cars in . We moved here in 78 from the other end of town. We been in town since 66. And my father always wanted to buy this farm so we could have more room to put cars</p>\n<p>This is no quick tour. Just about every inch of these 22 acres has been given over to these vehicles from a past era. They lined them up along the old stone walls. They lined them up along the hedge rows. There are about 350 in various states of decay. Ron stood near the entrance and started naming the ones he could see just from that one spot.</p>\n<div style=\"float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carline.jpg\" alt=\"Most of these cars were hauled here in 1978. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>Most of these cars were hauled here in 1977. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>CUT: 56 Chevy, 35 Ford slant back, 60 Chevy, 55 Chevy, 61 Chevy staion, 63 Falcon, another 60 Chevy./fade down</p>\n<p>Ron\'s father would buy just about any vintage car, even ones already eaten through with rust. Some are by car makers that still survive, Dodge, Buick, Ford. Some are by those that have gone extinct, Hudson, DeSoto, Henry J, and Nash. The Nash is surreal. We cross a field to get a closer look.</p>\n<p>CUT: I call them Dick Tracy cars. You remember he Dick Tracy cartoons? And they had that big long sleek car. And that\'s what these cars looked like.</p>\n<p>It\'s a space ship of a car, designed to slice through the galaxy not just mere traffic. Too bad for the Nash, it had the earthly tendency to rust. Ron pulls back a fallen branch that leans against the door. </p>\n<p>CUT: Every winter and windstorm it gets worse. But you can see, check out all the room in the back seat. And this one had a fold down armrest in the middle. //sound of door opening// Check this out, each side had its own cigarette lighter and ash tray. This was before smoking was, you know, criminal. Look at the size of the steering wheel. Like being at the helm. It wasn\'t like driving a car. It was driving a boat. </p>\n<div style=\"float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carnash.jpg\" alt=\"The Nash - 1950-1952. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>The Nash - 1950-1952. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>A rusty engine part sits on the fender of the Nash. Ron tells me it\'s a cylinder head. A customer left it there 15 years ago. That\'s the theme of this place. People put things down and just leave them. There\'s a small red German sports car. Called a Goliath; some marketer had a sense of humor. </p>\n<p>CUT: That actually belonged to good friend of the family, he parked it here and he never come and got it. It\'s a rare car. // How long has been sitting there?/ Right there. 20 years anyway. </p>\n<div style=\"float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/cargoliath.jpg\" alt=\"The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>The Goliath has been there so long, a tree grew up next to it. Its trunk has molded itself around the front fender. A branch grows up through the grill. Car and nature are fusing.</p>\n<p>These cars aren\'t simply here. Ron sells parts off them. The people who restore old cars know about places like this. In a far back corner of the woods, Ron shows me a 1939 Buick. An imposing beast, 3 tons of black steel hiding in the overgrowth. Ron guesses that the fenders are worth at least 500 dollars each.</p>\n<p>CUT: This was a very expensive car in its day. this was what they called a formal. A congressman or senator, didn\'t want to drive Caddy, but a Buick, fiscally repsonsibel but I had a nice car too. </p>\n<p>The Buick’s fenders have no prospective buyer, but selling is secondary. For Ron and his family, this place is a sort of social service agency.</p>\n<p>CUT: We don’t consider this a scrap yard. My father calls this a vintage sanctuary, like the old folks home for old cars, they hang out, not go to scrap yard and become Hyundai’s, and rebar. </p>\n<p>If this is a nursing home, it\'s the nursing home of hard knocks. The weather beats down. Wild animals make their homes in the cars; Ron once saw a woodchuck inside a Chevy, sunning himself on the front dash. But for Ron, better that than having no place to see how much car culture has changed.</p>\n<p>CUT: A new Toyota Camry will never be an antique car. You\'ll never see one in a car show. You\'ll never see one in a parade. See what I\'m saying. I mean, it\'s not the same. It\'s different. I say they stopped making cars in \'73. </p>\n<p>In 1973, there was the oil embargo. Cars began to get smaller and the American car industry began its slow descent. Ron says this place is just a way to fight the future.</p>\n<p>Cut: Sometimes you can\'t give up the past. You don\'t want to give up the past. You don\'t want to say, OK, this is never going to be again, so .. It\'s just, that\'s why people hold on to pictures of their old relatives. I think it\'s the same idea for me. You can come out here, you can still look at the old cars and you\'re like, OK, it\'s still, we\'re not in the future yet. </p>\n<p>But the future hangs over this place. Nature is unstoppable and walking through the car graveyard is a humbling reminder.</p>\n<p>These hulks come from America\'s heyday when we felt as though we soared over the troubles of the world.</p>\n<p>Seeing the moss growing in emerald clumps on the hoods and pulling aside the bushes growing inside and over the dashboards, I think of the Mayans. There was a time when they rode high too.</p>\n<p>[jungle sounds up]</p>\n', 1231554433, 1231640833, ''), 512 |
| _db_query | /var/www/htdocs-v5/includes/database.inc: 200 | INSERT INTO cache_filter (cid, data, created, expire, headers) VALUES ('3:f18255e19c1cc8e1833d53305ac2d843', '<p>They don\'t call the acres of old cars at Lane\'s Garage a junk or a scrap yard. They call them a graveyard. I first saw them four years ago when I followed some rutted tracks into the overgrown woods behind the shop. </p>\n<p>[jungle sounds] </p>\n<p>I felt like an explorer. </p>\n<p>Rusting hulks of cars from the 30\'s, 40\'s and 50\'s lurked in the shade, </p>\n<p>[jungle sounds]</p>\n<p>large bulbous shaped creatures with broken eyes and missing teeth, staring out from the cover of the bushes and trees that had grown up like cages around them. </p>\n<div style=\"float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/files/images/caruk.jpg\" alt=\"A 1930\'s sedan eases into the forest floor. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>A 1930\'s sedan eases into the forest floor. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>Think Central American jungle and huge Mayan carvings buried in vines.</p>\n<p> [abrupt stop of jungle sounds]</p>\n<p>OK.</p>\n<p> These are relics of American car culture, not some lost civilization, at least not yet. But that doesn\'t mean they aren\'t objects of reverence.</p>\n<p>CUT: We heard a couple of people say, Oh this is our Mecca.</p>\n<p>Ron Lane, co-owner, son of the founder of Lane\'s Garage, loves nothing more than to show people around.</p>\n<p>CUT: I think you will find, there isn\'t a single person who doesn’t get excited, they are amazed. </p>\n<p>Ron is 46. His affection for cars is in his DNA. His grandfather had a gas station in Concord. His father opened a garage in Loudon. So, let the tour begin.</p>\n<p>CUT: Where we\'re going to go now, this is the first field that we put cars in . We moved here in 78 from the other end of town. We been in town since 66. And my father always wanted to buy this farm so we could have more room to put cars</p>\n<p>This is no quick tour. Just about every inch of these 22 acres has been given over to these vehicles from a past era. They lined them up along the old stone walls. They lined them up along the hedge rows. There are about 350 in various states of decay. Ron stood near the entrance and started naming the ones he could see just from that one spot.</p>\n<div style=\"float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carline.jpg\" alt=\"Most of these cars were hauled here in 1978. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>Most of these cars were hauled here in 1977. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>CUT: 56 Chevy, 35 Ford slant back, 60 Chevy, 55 Chevy, 61 Chevy staion, 63 Falcon, another 60 Chevy./fade down</p>\n<p>Ron\'s father would buy just about any vintage car, even ones already eaten through with rust. Some are by car makers that still survive, Dodge, Buick, Ford. Some are by those that have gone extinct, Hudson, DeSoto, Henry J, and Nash. The Nash is surreal. We cross a field to get a closer look.</p>\n<p>CUT: I call them Dick Tracy cars. You remember he Dick Tracy cartoons? And they had that big long sleek car. And that\'s what these cars looked like.</p>\n<p>It\'s a space ship of a car, designed to slice through the galaxy not just mere traffic. Too bad for the Nash, it had the earthly tendency to rust. Ron pulls back a fallen branch that leans against the door. </p>\n<p>CUT: Every winter and windstorm it gets worse. But you can see, check out all the room in the back seat. And this one had a fold down armrest in the middle. //sound of door opening// Check this out, each side had its own cigarette lighter and ash tray. This was before smoking was, you know, criminal. Look at the size of the steering wheel. Like being at the helm. It wasn\'t like driving a car. It was driving a boat. </p>\n<div style=\"float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carnash.jpg\" alt=\"The Nash - 1950-1952. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>The Nash - 1950-1952. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>A rusty engine part sits on the fender of the Nash. Ron tells me it\'s a cylinder head. A customer left it there 15 years ago. That\'s the theme of this place. People put things down and just leave them. There\'s a small red German sports car. Called a Goliath; some marketer had a sense of humor. </p>\n<p>CUT: That actually belonged to good friend of the family, he parked it here and he never come and got it. It\'s a rare car. // How long has been sitting there?/ Right there. 20 years anyway. </p>\n<div style=\"float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;\">\n <img src=\"http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/cargoliath.jpg\" alt=\"The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. (Courtesy: George Kelly)\"></p>\n<p><font size=\"1\"><b>The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>\n</div>\n<p>The Goliath has been there so long, a tree grew up next to it. Its trunk has molded itself around the front fender. A branch grows up through the grill. Car and nature are fusing.</p>\n<p>These cars aren\'t simply here. Ron sells parts off them. The people who restore old cars know about places like this. In a far back corner of the woods, Ron shows me a 1939 Buick. An imposing beast, 3 tons of black steel hiding in the overgrowth. Ron guesses that the fenders are worth at least 500 dollars each.</p>\n<p>CUT: This was a very expensive car in its day. this was what they called a formal. A congressman or senator, didn\'t want to drive Caddy, but a Buick, fiscally repsonsibel but I had a nice car too. </p>\n<p>The Buick’s fenders have no prospective buyer, but selling is secondary. For Ron and his family, this place is a sort of social service agency.</p>\n<p>CUT: We don’t consider this a scrap yard. My father calls this a vintage sanctuary, like the old folks home for old cars, they hang out, not go to scrap yard and become Hyundai’s, and rebar. </p>\n<p>If this is a nursing home, it\'s the nursing home of hard knocks. The weather beats down. Wild animals make their homes in the cars; Ron once saw a woodchuck inside a Chevy, sunning himself on the front dash. But for Ron, better that than having no place to see how much car culture has changed.</p>\n<p>CUT: A new Toyota Camry will never be an antique car. You\'ll never see one in a car show. You\'ll never see one in a parade. See what I\'m saying. I mean, it\'s not the same. It\'s different. I say they stopped making cars in \'73. </p>\n<p>In 1973, there was the oil embargo. Cars began to get smaller and the American car industry began its slow descent. Ron says this place is just a way to fight the future.</p>\n<p>Cut: Sometimes you can\'t give up the past. You don\'t want to give up the past. You don\'t want to say, OK, this is never going to be again, so .. It\'s just, that\'s why people hold on to pictures of their old relatives. I think it\'s the same idea for me. You can come out here, you can still look at the old cars and you\'re like, OK, it\'s still, we\'re not in the future yet. </p>\n<p>But the future hangs over this place. Nature is unstoppable and walking through the car graveyard is a humbling reminder.</p>\n<p>These hulks come from America\'s heyday when we felt as though we soared over the troubles of the world.</p>\n<p>Seeing the moss growing in emerald clumps on the hoods and pulling aside the bushes growing inside and over the dashboards, I think of the Mayans. There was a time when they rode high too.</p>\n<p>[jungle sounds up]</p>\n', 1231554433, 1231640833, '') |
| db_query | /var/www/htdocs-v5/includes/cache.inc: 97 | INSERT INTO {%s} (cid, data, created, expire, headers) VALUES ('%s', %b, %d, %d, '%s'), cache_filter, 3:f18255e19c1cc8e1833d53305ac2d843, <p>They don't call the acres of old cars at Lane's Garage a junk or a scrap yard. They call them a graveyard. I first saw them four years ago when I followed some rutted tracks into the overgrown woods behind the shop. </p>
<p>[jungle sounds] </p>
<p>I felt like an explorer. </p>
<p>Rusting hulks of cars from the 30's, 40's and 50's lurked in the shade, </p>
<p>[jungle sounds]</p>
<p>large bulbous shaped creatures with broken eyes and missing teeth, staring out from the cover of the bushes and trees that had grown up like cages around them. </p>
<div style="float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/files/images/caruk.jpg" alt="A 1930's sedan eases into the forest floor. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>A 1930's sedan eases into the forest floor. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>Think Central American jungle and huge Mayan carvings buried in vines.</p>
<p> [abrupt stop of jungle sounds]</p>
<p>OK.</p>
<p> These are relics of American car culture, not some lost civilization, at least not yet. But that doesn't mean they aren't objects of reverence.</p>
<p>CUT: We heard a couple of people say, Oh this is our Mecca.</p>
<p>Ron Lane, co-owner, son of the founder of Lane's Garage, loves nothing more than to show people around.</p>
<p>CUT: I think you will find, there isn't a single person who doesn’t get excited, they are amazed. </p>
<p>Ron is 46. His affection for cars is in his DNA. His grandfather had a gas station in Concord. His father opened a garage in Loudon. So, let the tour begin.</p>
<p>CUT: Where we're going to go now, this is the first field that we put cars in . We moved here in 78 from the other end of town. We been in town since 66. And my father always wanted to buy this farm so we could have more room to put cars</p>
<p>This is no quick tour. Just about every inch of these 22 acres has been given over to these vehicles from a past era. They lined them up along the old stone walls. They lined them up along the hedge rows. There are about 350 in various states of decay. Ron stood near the entrance and started naming the ones he could see just from that one spot.</p>
<div style="float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carline.jpg" alt="Most of these cars were hauled here in 1978. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>Most of these cars were hauled here in 1977. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>CUT: 56 Chevy, 35 Ford slant back, 60 Chevy, 55 Chevy, 61 Chevy staion, 63 Falcon, another 60 Chevy./fade down</p>
<p>Ron's father would buy just about any vintage car, even ones already eaten through with rust. Some are by car makers that still survive, Dodge, Buick, Ford. Some are by those that have gone extinct, Hudson, DeSoto, Henry J, and Nash. The Nash is surreal. We cross a field to get a closer look.</p>
<p>CUT: I call them Dick Tracy cars. You remember he Dick Tracy cartoons? And they had that big long sleek car. And that's what these cars looked like.</p>
<p>It's a space ship of a car, designed to slice through the galaxy not just mere traffic. Too bad for the Nash, it had the earthly tendency to rust. Ron pulls back a fallen branch that leans against the door. </p>
<p>CUT: Every winter and windstorm it gets worse. But you can see, check out all the room in the back seat. And this one had a fold down armrest in the middle. //sound of door opening// Check this out, each side had its own cigarette lighter and ash tray. This was before smoking was, you know, criminal. Look at the size of the steering wheel. Like being at the helm. It wasn't like driving a car. It was driving a boat. </p>
<div style="float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carnash.jpg" alt="The Nash - 1950-1952. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>The Nash - 1950-1952. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>A rusty engine part sits on the fender of the Nash. Ron tells me it's a cylinder head. A customer left it there 15 years ago. That's the theme of this place. People put things down and just leave them. There's a small red German sports car. Called a Goliath; some marketer had a sense of humor. </p>
<p>CUT: That actually belonged to good friend of the family, he parked it here and he never come and got it. It's a rare car. // How long has been sitting there?/ Right there. 20 years anyway. </p>
<div style="float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/cargoliath.jpg" alt="The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>The Goliath has been there so long, a tree grew up next to it. Its trunk has molded itself around the front fender. A branch grows up through the grill. Car and nature are fusing.</p>
<p>These cars aren't simply here. Ron sells parts off them. The people who restore old cars know about places like this. In a far back corner of the woods, Ron shows me a 1939 Buick. An imposing beast, 3 tons of black steel hiding in the overgrowth. Ron guesses that the fenders are worth at least 500 dollars each.</p>
<p>CUT: This was a very expensive car in its day. this was what they called a formal. A congressman or senator, didn't want to drive Caddy, but a Buick, fiscally repsonsibel but I had a nice car too. </p>
<p>The Buick’s fenders have no prospective buyer, but selling is secondary. For Ron and his family, this place is a sort of social service agency.</p>
<p>CUT: We don’t consider this a scrap yard. My father calls this a vintage sanctuary, like the old folks home for old cars, they hang out, not go to scrap yard and become Hyundai’s, and rebar. </p>
<p>If this is a nursing home, it's the nursing home of hard knocks. The weather beats down. Wild animals make their homes in the cars; Ron once saw a woodchuck inside a Chevy, sunning himself on the front dash. But for Ron, better that than having no place to see how much car culture has changed.</p>
<p>CUT: A new Toyota Camry will never be an antique car. You'll never see one in a car show. You'll never see one in a parade. See what I'm saying. I mean, it's not the same. It's different. I say they stopped making cars in '73. </p>
<p>In 1973, there was the oil embargo. Cars began to get smaller and the American car industry began its slow descent. Ron says this place is just a way to fight the future.</p>
<p>Cut: Sometimes you can't give up the past. You don't want to give up the past. You don't want to say, OK, this is never going to be again, so .. It's just, that's why people hold on to pictures of their old relatives. I think it's the same idea for me. You can come out here, you can still look at the old cars and you're like, OK, it's still, we're not in the future yet. </p>
<p>But the future hangs over this place. Nature is unstoppable and walking through the car graveyard is a humbling reminder.</p>
<p>These hulks come from America's heyday when we felt as though we soared over the troubles of the world.</p>
<p>Seeing the moss growing in emerald clumps on the hoods and pulling aside the bushes growing inside and over the dashboards, I think of the Mayans. There was a time when they rode high too.</p>
<p>[jungle sounds up]</p>
, 1231554433, 1231640833, |
| cache_set | /var/www/htdocs-v5/modules/filter/filter.module: 779 | 3:f18255e19c1cc8e1833d53305ac2d843, cache_filter, <p>They don't call the acres of old cars at Lane's Garage a junk or a scrap yard. They call them a graveyard. I first saw them four years ago when I followed some rutted tracks into the overgrown woods behind the shop. </p>
<p>[jungle sounds] </p>
<p>I felt like an explorer. </p>
<p>Rusting hulks of cars from the 30's, 40's and 50's lurked in the shade, </p>
<p>[jungle sounds]</p>
<p>large bulbous shaped creatures with broken eyes and missing teeth, staring out from the cover of the bushes and trees that had grown up like cages around them. </p>
<div style="float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/files/images/caruk.jpg" alt="A 1930's sedan eases into the forest floor. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>A 1930's sedan eases into the forest floor. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>Think Central American jungle and huge Mayan carvings buried in vines.</p>
<p> [abrupt stop of jungle sounds]</p>
<p>OK.</p>
<p> These are relics of American car culture, not some lost civilization, at least not yet. But that doesn't mean they aren't objects of reverence.</p>
<p>CUT: We heard a couple of people say, Oh this is our Mecca.</p>
<p>Ron Lane, co-owner, son of the founder of Lane's Garage, loves nothing more than to show people around.</p>
<p>CUT: I think you will find, there isn't a single person who doesn’t get excited, they are amazed. </p>
<p>Ron is 46. His affection for cars is in his DNA. His grandfather had a gas station in Concord. His father opened a garage in Loudon. So, let the tour begin.</p>
<p>CUT: Where we're going to go now, this is the first field that we put cars in . We moved here in 78 from the other end of town. We been in town since 66. And my father always wanted to buy this farm so we could have more room to put cars</p>
<p>This is no quick tour. Just about every inch of these 22 acres has been given over to these vehicles from a past era. They lined them up along the old stone walls. They lined them up along the hedge rows. There are about 350 in various states of decay. Ron stood near the entrance and started naming the ones he could see just from that one spot.</p>
<div style="float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carline.jpg" alt="Most of these cars were hauled here in 1978. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>Most of these cars were hauled here in 1977. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>CUT: 56 Chevy, 35 Ford slant back, 60 Chevy, 55 Chevy, 61 Chevy staion, 63 Falcon, another 60 Chevy./fade down</p>
<p>Ron's father would buy just about any vintage car, even ones already eaten through with rust. Some are by car makers that still survive, Dodge, Buick, Ford. Some are by those that have gone extinct, Hudson, DeSoto, Henry J, and Nash. The Nash is surreal. We cross a field to get a closer look.</p>
<p>CUT: I call them Dick Tracy cars. You remember he Dick Tracy cartoons? And they had that big long sleek car. And that's what these cars looked like.</p>
<p>It's a space ship of a car, designed to slice through the galaxy not just mere traffic. Too bad for the Nash, it had the earthly tendency to rust. Ron pulls back a fallen branch that leans against the door. </p>
<p>CUT: Every winter and windstorm it gets worse. But you can see, check out all the room in the back seat. And this one had a fold down armrest in the middle. //sound of door opening// Check this out, each side had its own cigarette lighter and ash tray. This was before smoking was, you know, criminal. Look at the size of the steering wheel. Like being at the helm. It wasn't like driving a car. It was driving a boat. </p>
<div style="float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carnash.jpg" alt="The Nash - 1950-1952. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>The Nash - 1950-1952. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>A rusty engine part sits on the fender of the Nash. Ron tells me it's a cylinder head. A customer left it there 15 years ago. That's the theme of this place. People put things down and just leave them. There's a small red German sports car. Called a Goliath; some marketer had a sense of humor. </p>
<p>CUT: That actually belonged to good friend of the family, he parked it here and he never come and got it. It's a rare car. // How long has been sitting there?/ Right there. 20 years anyway. </p>
<div style="float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/cargoliath.jpg" alt="The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. (Courtesy: George Kelly)"></p>
<p><font size="1"><b>The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
<p>The Goliath has been there so long, a tree grew up next to it. Its trunk has molded itself around the front fender. A branch grows up through the grill. Car and nature are fusing.</p>
<p>These cars aren't simply here. Ron sells parts off them. The people who restore old cars know about places like this. In a far back corner of the woods, Ron shows me a 1939 Buick. An imposing beast, 3 tons of black steel hiding in the overgrowth. Ron guesses that the fenders are worth at least 500 dollars each.</p>
<p>CUT: This was a very expensive car in its day. this was what they called a formal. A congressman or senator, didn't want to drive Caddy, but a Buick, fiscally repsonsibel but I had a nice car too. </p>
<p>The Buick’s fenders have no prospective buyer, but selling is secondary. For Ron and his family, this place is a sort of social service agency.</p>
<p>CUT: We don’t consider this a scrap yard. My father calls this a vintage sanctuary, like the old folks home for old cars, they hang out, not go to scrap yard and become Hyundai’s, and rebar. </p>
<p>If this is a nursing home, it's the nursing home of hard knocks. The weather beats down. Wild animals make their homes in the cars; Ron once saw a woodchuck inside a Chevy, sunning himself on the front dash. But for Ron, better that than having no place to see how much car culture has changed.</p>
<p>CUT: A new Toyota Camry will never be an antique car. You'll never see one in a car show. You'll never see one in a parade. See what I'm saying. I mean, it's not the same. It's different. I say they stopped making cars in '73. </p>
<p>In 1973, there was the oil embargo. Cars began to get smaller and the American car industry began its slow descent. Ron says this place is just a way to fight the future.</p>
<p>Cut: Sometimes you can't give up the past. You don't want to give up the past. You don't want to say, OK, this is never going to be again, so .. It's just, that's why people hold on to pictures of their old relatives. I think it's the same idea for me. You can come out here, you can still look at the old cars and you're like, OK, it's still, we're not in the future yet. </p>
<p>But the future hangs over this place. Nature is unstoppable and walking through the car graveyard is a humbling reminder.</p>
<p>These hulks come from America's heyday when we felt as though we soared over the troubles of the world.</p>
<p>Seeing the moss growing in emerald clumps on the hoods and pulling aside the bushes growing inside and over the dashboards, I think of the Mayans. There was a time when they rode high too.</p>
<p>[jungle sounds up]</p>
, 1231640833 |
| check_markup | /var/www/htdocs-v5/sites/all/modules/cck/text.module: 171 | They don't call the acres of old cars at Lane's Garage a junk or a scrap yard. They call them a graveyard. I first saw them four years ago when I followed some rutted tracks into the overgrown woods behind the shop.
[jungle sounds]
I felt like an explorer.
Rusting hulks of cars from the 30's, 40's and 50's lurked in the shade,
[jungle sounds]
large bulbous shaped creatures with broken eyes and missing teeth, staring out from the cover of the bushes and trees that had grown up like cages around them.
<div style="float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/files/images/caruk.jpg" alt="A 1930's sedan eases into the forest floor. (Courtesy: George Kelly)">
<p><font size="1"><b>A 1930's sedan eases into the forest floor. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
Think Central American jungle and huge Mayan carvings buried in vines.
[abrupt stop of jungle sounds]
OK.
These are relics of American car culture, not some lost civilization, at least not yet. But that doesn't mean they aren't objects of reverence.
CUT: We heard a couple of people say, Oh this is our Mecca.
Ron Lane, co-owner, son of the founder of Lane's Garage, loves nothing more than to show people around.
CUT: I think you will find, there isn't a single person who doesn’t get excited, they are amazed.
Ron is 46. His affection for cars is in his DNA. His grandfather had a gas station in Concord. His father opened a garage in Loudon. So, let the tour begin.
CUT: Where we're going to go now, this is the first field that we put cars in . We moved here in 78 from the other end of town. We been in town since 66. And my father always wanted to buy this farm so we could have more room to put cars
This is no quick tour. Just about every inch of these 22 acres has been given over to these vehicles from a past era. They lined them up along the old stone walls. They lined them up along the hedge rows. There are about 350 in various states of decay. Ron stood near the entrance and started naming the ones he could see just from that one spot.
<div style="float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carline.jpg" alt="Most of these cars were hauled here in 1978. (Courtesy: George Kelly)">
<p><font size="1"><b>Most of these cars were hauled here in 1977. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
CUT: 56 Chevy, 35 Ford slant back, 60 Chevy, 55 Chevy, 61 Chevy staion, 63 Falcon, another 60 Chevy./fade down
Ron's father would buy just about any vintage car, even ones already eaten through with rust. Some are by car makers that still survive, Dodge, Buick, Ford. Some are by those that have gone extinct, Hudson, DeSoto, Henry J, and Nash. The Nash is surreal. We cross a field to get a closer look.
CUT: I call them Dick Tracy cars. You remember he Dick Tracy cartoons? And they had that big long sleek car. And that's what these cars looked like.
It's a space ship of a car, designed to slice through the galaxy not just mere traffic. Too bad for the Nash, it had the earthly tendency to rust. Ron pulls back a fallen branch that leans against the door.
CUT: Every winter and windstorm it gets worse. But you can see, check out all the room in the back seat. And this one had a fold down armrest in the middle. //sound of door opening// Check this out, each side had its own cigarette lighter and ash tray. This was before smoking was, you know, criminal. Look at the size of the steering wheel. Like being at the helm. It wasn't like driving a car. It was driving a boat.
<div style="float:right;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/carnash.jpg" alt="The Nash - 1950-1952. (Courtesy: George Kelly)">
<p><font size="1"><b>The Nash - 1950-1952. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
A rusty engine part sits on the fender of the Nash. Ron tells me it's a cylinder head. A customer left it there 15 years ago. That's the theme of this place. People put things down and just leave them. There's a small red German sports car. Called a Goliath; some marketer had a sense of humor.
CUT: That actually belonged to good friend of the family, he parked it here and he never come and got it. It's a rare car. // How long has been sitting there?/ Right there. 20 years anyway.
<div style="float:left;padding:5px;width:305px;">
<img src="http://www.nhpr.org/sites/nhpr.org/files/images/cargoliath.jpg" alt="The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. (Courtesy: George Kelly)">
<p><font size="1"><b>The tree trunk wraps around the Goliath fender. <em>(Courtesy: George Kelly)</em> </b></font></p>
</div>
The Goliath has been there so long, a tree grew up next to it. Its trunk has molded itself around the front fender. A branch grows up through the grill. Car and nature are fusing.
These cars aren't simply here. Ron sells parts off them. The people who restore old cars know about places like this. In a far back corner of the woods, Ron shows me a 1939 Buick. An imposing beast, 3 tons of black steel hiding in the overgrowth. Ron guesses that the fenders are worth at least 500 dollars each.
CUT: This was a very expensive car in its day. this was what they called a formal. A congressman or senator, didn't want to drive Caddy, but a Buick, fiscally repsonsibel but I had a nice car too.
The Buick’s fenders have no prospective buyer, but selling is secondary. For Ron and his family, this place is a sort of social service agency.
CUT: We don’t consider this a scrap yard. My father calls this a vintage sanctuary, like the old folks home for old cars, they hang out, not go to scrap yard and become Hyundai’s, and rebar.
If this is a nursing home, it's the nursing home of hard knocks. The weather beats down. Wild animals make their homes in the cars; Ron once saw a woodchuck inside a Chevy, sunning himself on the front dash. But for Ron, better that than having no place to see how much car culture has changed.
CUT: A new Toyota Camry will never be an antique car. You'll never see one in a car show. You'll never see one in a parade. See what I'm saying. I mean, it's not the same. It's different. I say they stopped making cars in '73.
In 1973, there was the oil embargo. Cars began to get smaller and the American car industry began its slow descent. Ron says this place is just a way to fight the future.
Cut: Sometimes you can't give up the past. You don't want to give up the past. You don't want to say, OK, this is never going to be again, so .. It's just, that's why people hold on to pictures of their old relatives. I think it's the same idea for me. You can come out here, you can still look at the old cars and you're like, OK, it's still, we're not in the future yet.
But the future hangs over this place. Nature is unstoppable and walking through the car graveyard is a humbling reminder.
These hulks come from America's heyday when we felt as though we soared over the troubles of the world.
Seeing the moss growing in emerald clumps on the hoods and pulling aside the bushes growing inside and over the dashboards, I think of the Mayans. There was a time when they rode high too.
[jungle sounds up]
, 3, |
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