TOM ARNOLD: Moab’s VW Mechanic, Philosopher & Ed Abbey’s Pilot (ZX#73)…by Jim Stiles

All photographs by Jim Stiles, except the Google Aerial

Why do people from all over the world come to Moab? Most will insist that it’s the sheer beauty of its red rock canyons and sculpted arches, and the mighty Colorado River which, after all, carved out this great sedimentary plateau. Others may argue that our major attraction is the way the sandstone provides an excellent recreational medium upon which to play out the tourists’ many extreme or not so extreme recreational activities.

Some perhaps come to Moab for the tremendous selection of espresso shops, high end cuisine, Southwest jewelry, souvenir ashtrays, and prefab plastic blue motels. And everyone visits Moab, of course, to bask in the spirit of brotherly love and affection that permeates the souls of all of those who live in the Moab Valley.

But there is so much more. Or at least there was…if only the minions of tourists could have seen it…seen IT in all its glory. I was always a dedicated “Leave Moab Alone” recluse, but many years ago, I took the opportunity to promote…yes, to PROMOTE! one of the great scenic attractions of Moab, the Colorado Plateau, the Southwest and, indeed, the World! Tribute was long overdue. And for decades I was able to stand humbly in his presence and praise the man who made it all happen. And he was a dear friend, who taught many of us the need to maintain a sense of humor.

He’s gone now. Years ago, he left us. But his work lives on, a monument to his genius and persistence…(though it’s a tad tidier than it once was, thanks to those Moab Compliance Black Shirts and the cooperation of the Arnold Family) But this is one more Moab Icon that needs to remembered, honored, and revered— The Man of Many Names.

For the record, he was born Thomas Arnold, but we knew him by many names— Tom, Tom Tom, TK, or more generically—The Volkswagen Guy. For decades TK serviced VWs of all kinds, with varying degrees of success. As all of us who once owned VWs, the cars were almost born with the intent to drive us crazy, and consequently, we owners were surely cursed with varying degrees of masochism. But Tom loved them all. And he loved to collect the ones that he could not revive.

TK anointed himself the founder and curator of “Tom Tom’s Volkswagen Museum.” By his account, and I never had reason to doubt him, he owned the most fantastic collection of banged up VWs in the world. Some ignorant fools have had the temerity to call it junk. Well to many of us, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. To his devotees, after all these years,, Tom’s “museum” is an invaluable treasure, and one of the last remaining symbols of the Old Moab that has vanished almost completely in the last two decades

The Museum has never been easy to miss. It’s located at the intersection of Mill Creek Drive and Spanish Valley Drive, an intersection known to locals as Chicken Corners. It’s the Gateway to Spanish Valley, where in the last two decades, many of the junk cars and washing machines and spare tires have vanished — replaced by half million dollar faux adobe second homes and condos.

But his Museum still stands. At its zenith, Arnold managed to squeeze 250 vintage Volkswagens onto a two acre lot that he bought 50 years ago. It was his pride and joy. Others still curse the site and wish some mega-billionaire would fly in, buy the property and scour his collection from the face of the earth. But Tom…or Tom Tom…or TK …but Arnold always took the criticism in stride and with good cheer. “They just don’t know how to have a good time… I’m having a good time.” He did to his last breath.

When Tom Arnold first came to Moab, in 1969, it wasn’t to fill an empty lot with German cars; he came here to start a college. T.K. taught business administration at Colorado State University in Ft. Collins, but a tip from a fellow academician led him to Moab. Before Tom Arnold, there was no “higher education” in Grand County. But when he heard that Utah State in Logan was planning to open an extension office in Moab, Tom applied for the position without even seeing the town and was offered the job. A few days later he drove to Moab and found, “this little green oasis in the middle of all that desert. It was just beautiful.” He walked the streets of Moab, talking to businesses, trying to stimulate interest in the new extension. He essentially started with nothing and built a college, driven mostly by his own contagious enthusiasm.

But even as he was unloading the moving truck, settling into his new digs, and throwing himself into the new job, his Volkswagen obsession was already well-established. T.K. moved to Moab with seven VWs; he rented a small shed across from the old cemetery to store them, and on weekends, he and his son spent hours doing to VWs whatever it is that VW aficionados do to VWs. The locals began to take notice…

Years ago, TK reminisced about his early days. “People would come by. Nobody in town worked on Volkswagens at the time…VW was a bad word then…but soon they started asking if we’d work on their Volkswagens. The people here in Moab are who put me in business. And then when the university and I disagreed and we decided to part company…that’s when I leaned across the desk and handed the Dean the finger…I was already set to start the shop and stay in Moab because I thought this was the greatest little spot in the country.”

That was in 1972. Out of that thrust finger came “Tom Tom’s Volkswagen Repair…You can’t beat him.” Tom moved his operation to the present location and spent the next 35 years building the “museum.”

Business was brisk and Tom found himself working until midnight at times to keep up with the demand. Among the early customers was Ed Abbey. Abbey and his wife Renee had just bought a VW Thing, only to discover that the gas heater didn’t work.

“It was in the fall or winter and pretty cold, so I went to work on it, but I didn’t even know who he was. They were renting an apartment above Miller’s Clothing Store at Main St. & Center Streets. But we became friends before I ever knew he was an author. I’d never read any of his books and then one day, he came by and gave me a copy of “The Monkey Wrench Gang.” I was working long days then, but I took it home and started reading it at about midnight until four o’clock in the morning, then got up at eight and didn’t even go to work…I finished it by noon. I couldn’t put it down.”

By now, not only had Tom Arnold become a good friend of Abbey’s, he also became a regular poker partner— the man Ed lost more money to than anyone else on Earth, except his ex-wives. On many occasions, Tom was also Ed Abbey’s personal pilot. Tom first learned to fly in World War II and flew just about everything; he later volunteered to fly transports in Vietnam. Now he was shuttling Cactus Ed…

“I flew Abbey a lot. First we just flew to look at the scenery. Somebody would tell him about an arch and we’d fly around looking for it. Later, when his wife Renee wanted to go back to college, Ed paid to send her to Tucson and I’d fly him down there once a month. I also flew him to a lot of his speeches and book signings. So at first, he really wasn’t a hero to me but just a buddy.”

To Tom, the private Ed Abbey “was completely different” from the man he was perceived to be from his books. “For one thing he didn’t give a damn about being rich. He didn’t even want anyone to know who he was. His ‘wealth’ was what he believed in and so he didn’t even want to go to book signings. People really had to force him to do those kinds of things.”

For years, Abbey didn’t have a phone at his house and would make the short drive to Tom Tom’s to make calls. In fact, Tom was Ed’s “clearing house” for potential house guests and visitors. “He didn’t want anybody to know where he lived and I was his checkpoint. If somebody came into my shop and asked where Abbey lived, I knew Ed had talked to him and I could give him directions. I used to see Ed get pretty exasperated dealing with the publishers, because of the money angle. They were always looking to make more money and he didn’t really give a damn.

“As far as I was concerned Ed was very serious in what he was attempting to do with his writing. He was writing about what he believed in and as more and more time goes by, the more I appreciate his writing. I really wasn’t much of an environmentalist at first, but the longer you hang around here…you become one. But otherwise he was very unassuming–he just wanted to sit back and enjoy the scenery and write and dream.”

And play poker.

The poker games were the stuff of legend. Although accounts differ, most recall that Tom was a frequent winner. For years men and women have speculated about the source of Tom Arnold’s poker prowess. Finally, years ago in an exclusive Zephyr interview, T.K revealed his secret…

“I was the only guy at the table who didn’t drink. Everybody else would get drunk and I’d have my glass of iced tea and they never really noticed that I was sober. But that’s only because I’ve never needed to drink to have a good time. Don’t need it.”

Tom Arnold–pilot, poker king, tea-totaler. It doesn’t get any stranger…

Abbey moved to Tucson in the late 1970s and the regularity of the poker games slowed. But Tom continued to repair VWs, flew shuttle flights for the airport from time to time and continued to fly Abbey around when Ed was in town. About 30 years ago, T.K. was taking a plane to Hite and he almost didn’t make it…

“I just got to 7000 feet, right over the Green River, when I heard a tremendous bang from the engine. I really thought I could land the plane, as long as the engine didn’t fall off. If it comes off, you lose your balance and you have a hell of a time landing. But it threw a rod and it was banging and vibrating.

“So I looked around and spotted a jeep road up above the Orange Cliffs. I was down to about 45 mph when I landed and there was a slight knoll at the end which caused the plane to flip over. But there was hardly any damage. But they could hear me without the radio all the way to L.A. I expect, because I was really calling out the ‘maydays.’ Yeah…that was quite an experience.”

In the 1990s, Moab began to transform itself and Tom watched the change with a wary eye.

“We live in one of the most pristine places on earth and sometimes I just cannot believe some of the people in this area who want to come in and destroy it. And once it’s gone it can’t be replaced. Other things can be replaced but we can’t replace the scenery.

“You know, when I first moved here, mining was the main industry here and we used to make wisecracks about the ‘miners’ mentality.’ Well in the 30 years I’ve lived here, I’ve seen it go from the ‘miners’ mentality’ to ‘zero mentality.’ And especially in the last ten years, we’ve seen the push for ‘economic development.’ What a joke. With all the money they’ve spent on ‘economic development,’ we could have built a wonderful indoor swimming pool.”

When it came to ‘economic development,’ one aspect of the Moab Culture that many considered a hindrance to Growth was Grand County’s junk, a term Tom always took exception to. He and so many others felt that their “collections: not only were useful—you never know when you;’ll need a new pump for a 1967 Kenmore washing machine. But it was the people who loved their stuff as well.

In 2001, Tom noted that, “One of the beauties of this valley is the people who have lived here. Moab is not just the scenery, it’s the people. People want to live here because of what the town IS. In the last ten years though, we’ve seen people come here who want to change everything. So I have a collection of antique vehicles which is probably the greatest collection in the world and a lot of people don’t like it. Volkswagen owners are the ones who REALLY know what I’ve got.

“You see, when I look at stuff that others call trash, I don’t see trash. Every object has some history behind it or some memory. I think a lot of it is picturesque. So come here to this valley and accept what’s here. I like this town the way it is…The way I figure it, if you’re really rich, you don’t need to display it anyway.” So why worry about a little junk?

Tom retired from mechanicking on other peoples’ cars in the late 90s.. He claimed to be determined to restore his collection. He quit flying in 1995. “I wanted to fly for 50 years and I did.” As for the collection, for years, many of us tried to pry a car or two away from him, but he always resisted. Tom finally decided he could part with a VW from time to time. But here was the deal…

“People ask me, ‘What are you doing with all these Volkswagens?’ and I tell them, ‘I don’t have the slightest idea. I’m just enjoying my collection.’ And then they say, ‘Well, will you sell one?’ and I say, ‘Sure, but you have to take them in order. Or pick one out, bring about ten of your buddies down, move all the cars out of the way, pull yours out, and then put everything back in again. Then they ask me what I want for them and I say, ‘It’s my private collection. Pick the one you want and then try to talk me out of it.’ So I’ll sell them if they pay me what they’re worth.”

Then around the Millennium, Tom went into the hospital for some minor medical problem and left a few days later with bypass surgery. “When they told me I was going in for bypass surgery, I promised myself I’d never let anything bother me again.”

Not that anything ever seemed to. In his last years, he devoted much of his time feeding the stray cats in the neighborhood. And he spent a considerable amount of out-of-pocket money getting as many of his feline pals fixed. Going into his shop was always an adventure; now it was like entering a semi-wildlife park. They were everywhere. The cats managed to co-exist with a couple of Tom’s favorite dogs too. The shop was big enough that the dogs could roam inside and stay out of the traffic. Tom wasn’t real fastidious when it came to cleaning up after the cats or the dogs, so walking the premises was something of a challenge, like traversing an organic minefield.

If you stepped in some of the cat or dog poop, or fell over a pile of 30 years old newspapers, and started to complain, he’d laugh and say, “Oh come on…it’s just dog shit. It’s just stuff…Think how much worse your life could be.” Tom Arnold was unflappable. As long as I knew him, for 32 years, that’s the way he was.
“I try to enjoy life. It’s amazing how people can’t get mad at you when you laugh at them. My advice is, ‘Relax.'” Nobody was more “relaxed” than our Tom Tom.

***

Tom Arnold died in 2007 in Moab. I cannot swear this is true, but I’ve heard that as Tom was being rushed by ambulance to the hospital, knowing it was most likely his last ride, TK had a smile on his face. He was born that way and he died that way. His son has cleaned up the Museum and the menagerie of VWs a bit, and sold a few of them, but most of the original flavor of the place remains. The magic is still there—TK would be pleased. And smiling.

Jim Stiles is the publisher and editor of The Zephyr. Still ‘hopelessly clinging to the past since 1989.” Though he spent 40 years living in the canyon country of southeast Utah, Stiles now resides on the Great Plains, in a tiny farm and ranch community, Coldwater, Kansas, where there are no tourists.

He can be reached via facebook or by email: cczephyr@gmail.com

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