Memories of a California junkyard

A Model A Ford coupe was one among many elderly Fords in Bunch’s junkyard

By Michael Lamm
The Old Motor

(June 2, 2021) I’ve always had a soft spot for automotive junkyards. And yes, I know I’m not supposed to call them that, but I use the word with great respect and fondness. I never met a junkyard I didn’t like; in fact, I even worked in one for a short time. But that’s another story. When my family moved to Northern California in the mid 1960s, I discovered all sorts of vintage junkyards in the area, each one chocked full of marvelous old cars. One of my favorites was Bunch’s, an archeological wonder on the outskirts of the little Central Valley town of Escalon.

Bunch’s cars found themselves scattered among an old almond orchard. Best time to visit was in the spring, when the trees were in full bloom. These photos were taken in late winter 1972.

Michael Lamm's son, Rob, inspects what's left of a 1941 Ford

Old Man Bunch — his first name was Alton, but no one called him that—lived in a modest house on the property, and his junkyard occupied what had, in years past, been an almond orchard. In the springtime, the trees blossomed among the helter-skelter of rusty cars, and in some cases volunteer almond trees had grown up around and into the cars themselves.

Old Man Bunch also had a number of sheds on his property, sheds where he’d salted away some of the more delectable pieces that he’d gleaned from various cars.

I remember standing, in an early visit to the yard, in one of those sheds, studying the trove of treasures, when Bunch and a customer, a fellow from the Bay Area, walked in. The man was holding a Model A Ford ammeter, and as they entered, he asked Bunch how much he wanted for it. Bunch told him, “Three dollars.”

“Three dollars!” barked the man. “This ammeter’s not worth three dollars!” Whereupon Bunch plucked the gauge from the man’s hand, threw it on the floor and stomped it under his heel. The ammeter shattered. “You’re right,” said Bunch. He then turned and walked out of the shed. Old Man Bunch could be a little testy.

I took these photos in the late winter of 1972, when my eldest son, Robert, was 12 years old. Rob drove out to Escalon with me, along with his friend, Kevin. I intended to go back and take more pictures in the spring, when the almonds would be in bloom, but for some reason I never made it.

Alton Bunch died in 1974. The car corpses got cleared out, the orchard got bulldozed, and there’s now a residential development where the junkyard once stood. A number of other semi-rural yards have suffered similar fates. I especially miss Fiez’s in Oakdale and Okie Joe’s here in Stockton — valhallas now vanished. About all that’s left are these pictures and fond memories.

Michael Lamm © copyright 2021