I’m Jay, the person behind Jay’s Junk Car Towing. I live in Surrey and grew up around cars. My family had an auto repair shop and a tow truck, so vehicles have been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

I’m still a car person. I enjoy looking at them, talking about them, and figuring things out. After more than 30 years working with vehicles, there’s still satisfaction in working out how to move one that won’t start, won’t roll, or has been sitting somewhere difficult to reach.

I’m fairly direct, and I like a straightforward conversation. Tell me what’s happening with your vehicle, and we can work through what needs to happen next. You don’t have to know all the answers before calling.

But there’s another part of this work that experience has taught me to pay attention to: how someone feels when their car leaves.

Ruby resting in Jay’s tow truck
Ruby, my dachshund and regular passenger on pickups.

Sometimes a car means more than you know

I’ve seen people tear up while telling me about a vehicle I’ve come to collect.

Sometimes it belonged to a parent who passed away. Sometimes it carried a family around for years. Sometimes it was simply a dependable old car that got someone through a lot.

An owner can know it’s time to let it go and still find the goodbye difficult. When you see that happening, you know you need to slow down a little and help them through that part.

I listen if they want to talk. I give them a moment if they need one. I don’t always know the whole story, but I can recognise that there is one.

For some people, it’s just a car. For someone else, it’s the end of a chapter in their life.

One pickup brought back memories of my own

Recently, I picked up a 2003 Toyota Corolla through a dealership. Its owner had it for a long time and had hoped it might have another life.

It had around 298,000 kilometres showing. The tires were cracking, the body had scrapes around it, and it wasn’t starting anymore. It was time to say goodbye.

He had bought a newer vehicle from Hyundai with room for his family. That was a good step for him, but I got the feeling he was happy and sad at the same time. He had something to look forward to, and an old car he was attached to was leaving.

That pickup brought me back to a townhouse complex where I’d grown up. When I looked at the playground, the old log playhouse I used to play in was still there.

I took a picture and sent it to my brother. “If you know, you know.” He remembered it too.

I was there to pick up someone else’s old car, and suddenly a little wooden playhouse had brought back memories of my own.

It’s easy to understand someone’s attachment when an ordinary place or thing can take you back like that.

The owner was comfortable with pictures of the pickup. As I drove away, I kept the truck’s lights flashing to give the video a little something extra.

I like having pictures of the work and the vehicles I collect. But sometimes I don’t get any. Looking after the customer matters more than getting a photo.

I’ve had good company along the way

My dogs have shared a lot of my working life.

Dipstick was my first riding companion, back in the early days. I don’t have a picture of him to put here, but he belongs in my story.

Lily was one of my original riders too.

Lily resting in a blanket
Lily, one of my original riding companions.

These days, Ruby comes along in the truck. She’s my dachshund, my company on the road, and a familiar face to some of the people I’ve helped. Returning customers sometimes ask about her.

I’ve also seen her make a difficult pickup a little easier. One owner saying goodbye to a longtime family vehicle stopped filming when Ruby appeared in the truck window and spent a moment with her instead.

Those little moments stay with you. So do the people.

You can tell me what you’re unsure about

You might be calling because the car suddenly stopped running. You might have been putting off dealing with it for years. You might be sorting out a vehicle that belonged to someone else and feel unsure where to begin.

Tell me what you know.

If you can’t find the registration, say so. If the keys are missing, let me know. If the car is in an awkward spot, we can talk about the access. Asking questions and working out those details is part of my job.

I’m a licensed vehicle dealer, and I can help explain the paperwork needed for your situation. I carry transfer forms too.

What I want is for you to understand the arrangements and feel comfortable asking a question before anything happens.

This business carries my name, and I care about how people feel dealing with it. Sometimes the job is a straightforward pickup. Sometimes someone needs a little more time and understanding.

After all these years, I know both are part of the work.

If you have an old vehicle and need some help getting started, call me at 604-889-4470.

Jay