ref:
http://www.plymouthbulletin.com/adventure09.htm
WHERE IS SHE TODAY?
The Expedition's white '41 Plymouth remained in Sullivan Richardson's possession following the trio's return to the United States and served as his means of transportation for the college lecture tour in 19.12. While on the tour the original engine finally gave up the ghost and had to be replaced. The car's use in the ensuing years was limited mostly to following Richardson's movements around the country--first to Chicago, then on to Los Angeles. For many years the car sat unused, rusting away under a tree on the Richardson property in Nichols Canyon, Hollywood.
In the mid 60's Richardson's eldest son, David, began getting poor marks in high school; thinking the boy needed an incentive to get his grades up, Sullivan gave the boy 5500 worth of parts and told him he could have the car if he got it running again. David succeeded in that task--as well as getting A's in school. The car was indeed a great conversation piece but as further schooling and a career in the insurance industry beckoned, the car once again was parked under a tree at the Richardson home.
In December of 1965, on the occasion of the Expedition's 25th Anniversary of their departure from Detroit, Sullivan Richardson, Arnold Whitaker and Ken Van Hee held a quiet reunion in Los Angeles. One of the Richardson children snapped a few pictures of the men and the car--these are the photos that grace the covers of this issue of the Bulletin.
About 1977, after the car had been vandalized and tired of watching it rust away, Richardson phoned a junk dealer to come and haul it away. It would appear now that the car has been lost forever. Elva Richardson, Sullie's wife wrote in a letter to me "It is unfortunate we were not aware of your organization sooner, or we would have taken better care of the old car." A friend of one of the Richardson children reported he saw one of the car's doors hanging in an apartment in Phoenix, Arizona! An effort by the sons in 1982 to locate the car has so far proven futile.
Perhaps the car does still exist in some Southern California wrecking yard-or perhaps it has already met its ultimate fate of the torch and crusher. Or maybe--just maybe it awaits its rescue by some old car "nut" that will return it to its former glory. Perhaps some sharp eyed member of the Plymouth Club will remember seeing a rusty-brown 1941 Plymouth sedan in a bone yard somewhere-a car with a bolted on roof rack, no rear seat and 18" wheels--a car covered with strange markings and lots of hard miles under its belt. Check the serial number plate--if it reads 15031250--give me a call!
