Tustin native buys the 1921 Nash convertible he admired as a child to put on display

TUSTIN Phil Cox has admired the boxy sedan for most of his 81 years.

As a boy, he would watch in awe as the 1921 Nash Sport Phaeton tootled around Tustin — two parents in the front seat, two kids in the back, top off.

“The fact it was a convertible just fascinated me,” Cox said.

So when the now-vintage car became available for purchase a few months ago, Cox was first in line.

“I wanted to preserve this piece of Tustin history,” he said.

On Sunday, Aug. 13, Cox will put the car on permanent public display — just across the street from where it resided for almost a century.

His father, Ed Cox, ran a grocery store on the corner of El Camino Real and Main Street. The owner of the coveted car, mechanic and firefighter Dale Crawford, lived kitty-corner to the grocer — so young Phil grew up with the snazzy vehicle in plain view.

In the 1940s, back when Old Town Tustin was just Tustin, the Hamburger Bar on A Street boasted a chef-attired mannequin that took orders via a hidden microphone. Phil Cox vividly remembers the Crawfords, regulars at the popular restaurant, pulling up in their showpiece like movie stars.

Cox would later inherit Cox Market Plaza, which he leases to boutiques and eateries. There, the car will turn heads through the windows of new clothing store, Johnny Jeans, which replaces a florist.

Initially, his wife puzzled over this seemingly out-of-the-blue brainstorm.

“You don’t want to know the way I reacted,” Linda Cox, 72, chuckled.

“It’s the only affair she’ll let me have,” Phil Cox said.

The car was passed down through three generations, ending up with Crawford’s grandson, Elwood Dale Boosey — whose mom was that girl in the backseat going out for burgers.

“My grandparents would drive us to the San Diego Zoo with the wind in our hair,” Boosey reminisced.

After his parents had both died, Boosey started renting out the family house. The Nash, which has not been out for a spin since the 1980s, was left in the garage.

“It got dusty and dirty, but it was not exposed to the elements,” said Boosey, 70, who lives in Los Angeles.

When Boosey decided to sell the house earlier this year, he discovered that Cox wanted to buy it the car.

“I feel so much nostalgia for it,” he said. “When Phil took an interest, I was thrilled.”

Cox declined to divulge the car’s price tag, saying only, “I paid what he asked. But it is not a Bentley.”

Others were interested, too, he said: “I didn’t want it to end up in some wealthy person’s garage never to be seen again.”

His new old car now sits under a protective tarp at a friend’s house in Santa Ana. A vintage auto refurbisher polished up its burgundy exterior, but Cox has no interest in hiring a mechanic for an overhaul.

“I don’t want to spend a bunch of money just so I can show it off once a year in the Tustin Tiller Days parade,” he said.

Thus, its odometer will remain frozen in time at 92,552 miles.

Cox moved to Northern California as a young man for a job in law enforcement. After retirement, he and his wife settled down in Oregon.

Still, they make the trip south to Tustin a couple of times a year for weeks-long stints, camping out in their motor home at Cox Market Plaza.

“He left his heart in Tustin,” Linda Cox said.

Or, at least, he left the childhood for which he waxes poetic — when orange groves cradled his quaint hometown.

Tucked in back of the shopping center is a small “museum” — open daily to the public. In it, Cox exhibits Tustin memorabilia such as a 1924 bank safe and stools that once stood at a pharmacy’s soda counter.

And in a few days, the center will acquire Cox’s crown jewel: The precious Nash.

“My grandfather would feel so honored,” Boosey said. “His car will stay in perpetuity where it belongs.”