O Cousin, Where Art Thou?

“The only way we’re leaving at 6:30 tomorrow morning is if we stay until last call.” That was the pact we made mid-dart game at The Bitter End (our local watering hole) the night before the Alameda Pointe Antiques Fair back in November. Despite living in the area for more than six years, I had never been. Yet, when the alarms went off at half-past six, we were as ready as we were going to be.

My roommate Benj and I lumbered over to his car, and we picked up his sister and her friend on the way out of the neighborhood. The sun was bright, the sky was blue, and it was smooth sailing through the city, across the Bay Bridge and down to Alameda Island. An endless stream of Top 40 hits and pop-punk anthems kept morale high.

Stepping out onto the island, the air was crisp. Within seconds, we were greeted by 800 antique vendors selling everything from signs to Sunday school shoes. Unlike my cash crunch last summer, I brought a little bit of money with me—but I had no intention of spending any.

Row after row, I enjoyed examining artifacts of a bygone era. When we approached a white tent with racks of clothing, I instinctually started sifting through them. A nearby sign indicated that this collection was known as Spider’s Garage. Midway through one of the racks, I pulled out a blue nylon jacket with an asymmetrical stripe and a single zipper pocket. As soon as I saw the back, I knew I had found treasure.

Originally manufactured in the late-’60s, the jacket had “The Cousin A/A” chain-stitched on the back. That could only mean one thing: A/Altered. Judging by the orange cursive lettering on the front, it once belonged to Bob.

I couldn’t believe it. I was holding a piece of drag racing history.

I walked over to the vendor to ask if he had any more details. He recalled that the jacket came from an estate in Sacramento, and there was also a bowling-style shirt that he had since sold. I couldn’t hand over my money fast enough. After paying, I slipped it on over my sweatshirt and wore it around the island.

***

Back at home, I started researching. “The Cousin, The Cousin,” I said to myself. “I know that car.” I could just visualize it. Maybe it was in Bob McClurg’s Diggers, Funnies, Gassers & Altereds? Or was it in Fire, Nitro, Rubber & Smoke? Perhaps it was in Steve Reyes’ Altered pictorial in Rodder’s Journal #34? Was it more recent than those? Did I write the caption?

With its wheels-up launches and candy blue paint, Bob Schubert’s “Cousin” A/Altered was a fan favorite at Northern California tracks in the late-’60s. Based on a fiberglass ’23 T, the roadster featured an injected 301cid Chevy and a homemade tube frame. Best times were in the mid nines at 140mph.

That’s what could have been. I reached out to my drag racing contacts, seeing if anyone knew anything about The Cousin. As of now, we have no solid leads. My guess is that it must have been a higher-dollar effort, considering they had jackets that matched the car. Where’s Bob now? And what happened to The Cousin?

***

For 2022, I’m making an effort to wear more vintage clothes—more specifically ones that tie back to hot rodding. I enjoy wearing this jacket not only because it fits well, but also because there’s a chance that someone out there will recognize it and be able to fill in another piece of the Cousin’s story.

—Joey Ukrop

End Note: Do you have a favorite H.A.M.B.-era drag racing jacket? Post it up—I’d love to see it.