Mentoring With A Wrench

The frame of an MG T-series sits along the walkway to Bill Becker's shop. It's parked next to a stack of fenders, a couple sheetmetal cowlings and a pile of parts unrecognizable in their obscurity.

Inside one shop building, a muscle-car enthusiast labors over an early 1970s GM coupe while another motorhead restores an old service station gasoline pump.

Becker's son, Chris, works on the steering shaft of an old bus being brought back to life in a second building, installing it with the help of Clayton Paddison, who shows up on weekends to work on his own 1920s-era hot rod.

Becker moves from project to project, offering advice, encouragement or gentle criticism.

"Sometimes it isn't so gentle," said Paddison with a grin. "I've come to recognize that every time I figure I've finished a job on this car, Bill figures I've only just begun.

"I'll bet I redid the front end on my car three times."

That's just Becker's way. His shop is a hands-on, do-it-yourself and do-it-right, or do-it-over operation.

It is tucked away off a two-lane road in rural Washington County, marked only by the lighted outline of a classic sedan on the gate that secures the site.

"It's like a clubhouse," said Paddison. For a dozen or so friends and pupils of Becker, it is a place where they can get their hands dirty sanding, scraping, machining, filing and fitting.

"I work in tech support," said Paddison. "I field 60 to 90 calls a day from people who are unhappy and frustrated. This is a place where I can relax, unwind and enjoy the camaraderie of people with a similar interest."

Saturday traditionally begins with breakfast at a local restaurant, then everyone caravans to the shop to begin work.

Becker teaches auto restoration through Portland Community College and for students who sign up for his own classes. (www.beckersauto.com) A steady stream of former students drop by during the day to see what's going on in the shop or just to talk about their latest project.

Becker went to college to become a machinist, but during his school days he and a friend restored a 1917 Hudson as a sideline to make a little money. Then it was a Model A Ford and a Stanley Steamer. And the list goes on and on.

He is most proud of the 1934 Rolls Royce Phantom II he restored into a consistent show winner.

"There are a lot of parts on this you just can't get anymore," he said, lifting the bonnet of the massive, elegant car. "So you make do with what you can. There are parts under the hood that are made for toilets."

Finding the right pieces to do the job is a lot of the fun, he said.

An old-car enthusiast could drop untold thousands of dollars on a restoration project and never really have an idea -- beyond the money -- what went into it.

"But it's getting so expensive that a guy earning a normal paycheck can't afford to have a car restored," Becker said. "But if they are willing to do the work themselves and put in the time to learn how to do it, it is still possible.

"When I began 40 years ago, I really didn't know much, but people took the time to teach me. I figure it is only right I pass on what I know to others."

Becker excuses himself to talk to someone that needs some sandblasting performed. And then there's the monster pickup being assembled in another shop, and his son's Morris Minor, the Packard limousine up on stands and . . . well, you get the idea. Jerry Boone is a Portland-area freelance writer. E-mail may be sent to jfboone@aol.com.

Chris Becker (Bill's son), Clayton Paddison, and Bill Becker make adjustments to a 1913 White