Car collector displays American muscle

His first car was a 1968 Ford Mustang convertible with a dented hood that he bought for $550 from a student at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. When his mom heard about the deal, she told him to unload the vehicle fast - before his dad discovered the transaction. So, he sold the car for a quick $250 profit.

He was 13.

Twenty-five years later, Colin Comer is still in the car business, only now, instead of moving cars for a few hundred bucks, he is moving collectible autos that can run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. This isn't a job - it's a passion and a way of life. To do it right, you have to love cars and engines and speed. But you also have to dig deep into the history of every vehicle you buy, discover the provenance as if it's a fine work of art. And you've got to get your hands dirty, or at least remember the persistence, precision and patience it takes to rebuild a car from the tire rims up.

Comer has long since graduated from physically restoring the vehicles to having others do the job. But he knows his way around camshafts and carburetors. And he still enjoys the chase for the vehicles of his dreams. "I'm a collector who sells cars," he says of his business, Colin's Classic Auto.

You don't just visit the showroom - you have to set up an appointment. He doesn't publicize the address. His garage looks a little like the back lot of the old "Bullitt" movie. It's filled with brawny muscle cars and Ford Mustangs, which Steve McQueen raced across San Francisco in one of cinema's greatest chase scenes. Grown men have actually come into the garage and wept at the sight of gleaming Pontiac GTOs, vintage Mustangs and a bright green 1969 Plymouth Road Runner.

You want to step up in class? Just head right this way and take a look at two Shelby Cobras, narrow-hipped, lightweight vehicles that packed a monstrous one-two punch of speed and styling. And, just for kicks, step right up to a 1966 Ford GT40, out of the stable of fabled cars that helped Ford mount its successful challenge against Ferrari at the 24 hours of Le Mans.

Most of the cars are part of Comer's museum-quality collection. A few are for sale. "I have a really nice house and I drive cars that cost more than the house," he says. "You can sleep in your car, but you can't drive your house."

He races. He researches. He writes -- late last year his newest book was published, "The Complete Book of Shelby Automobiles: Cobras, Mustangs and Super Snakes." "When he speaks, people listen and people who are many years his senior," says his father, Brendan Comer, a retired attorney. "He really has an unbelievable knowledge about cars. To call it encyclopedic would be an understatement."

Early fascination

As a child, Colin bonded over cars with his grandfather, Michael, a contractor who liked to go to England and race Jaguars. As a teen, he learned a lot about cars by hanging around the Downer Avenue Garage on Milwaukee's east side. There, he learned the trade from the owner, James Hugg, who worked on some pretty pricey cars owned by collectors.

Meanwhile, Colin's dad let him drive cars around a piece of property the family owned near Lake Michigan. When he turned 16, his dad bought him a used 1969 Alfa Romeo GTV that needed a lot of work. The first week on the road, Colin hit a police car in downtown Milwaukee.

"He was on his way down to see me at the office," Brendan Comer says. "Someone ran the red light. They wrote about it in the newspapers. They didn't name him, but everyone in my office knew who it was."

The article's headline: "Boy hits squad car, faces 2 problems." One of the problems was the accident. The other problem was that, according to the police, Colin said his father would "kill him."

Brendan Comer laughs about the article now. But he says he wasn't angry. When he was 16, he also smashed a car his dad had given him. As Colin grew up, his dad tried to steer him into other things. But cars were always on his mind. Shortly after Colin graduated from Marquette High School, he went into the business, buying everyday cars at auction for friends and neighbors and making a small profit.

His dad also put him in contact with an avid car collector in Milwaukee. They bonded over Alfa Romeos. "At one point, this fellow had a car for sale and he gave it to Colin to sell," Brendan Comer says. The kid closed a $900,000 deal. In the high-end car business, he was a natural. He transitioned from selling late-model autos to collectibles, especially muscle cars. Those cars represented Detroit in its heyday, gleaming hunks of metal and machinery.

"They're the last great American collectible car," he says. "A guy can fix them up and take them on a freeway." Others don't have the time to fix them up, or track them down. That's where Comer comes in. He has the knowledge and the passion. He also has an easygoing style that suits a wealthy clientele.

He says his typical customer is a guy, between 35 and 65 years of age. "They're business owners, mavericks," he says. "Either they know a lot about cars or want to know about cars. They're hungry for knowledge." They've got a passion for graceful lines and blistering speed. "By the time you get to me, you know what you want," Comer says.

The market is down but Comer is hanging tight. Collecting cars may go in and out of style. But muscle cars are forever.