Obituary

Ted Lloyd-Jones 

It is very sad to learn that Ted Lloyd-Jones has died, at the age of 71. He was one of the splendidly flamboyant characters of the Sport, and will be remembered especially for his 21-litre rear-engined sprint creation, powered by a Rolls-Royce Kestrel aero-engine. His friend Austen May hoo sent us the following appreciation:—

With the death of “Triangle” Ted Lloyd-Jones, peacefully at his home in Tanworth-in-Arden, one of the “characters” of the immediate pre- and early post-war era has passed. 

Educated at Bromsgrove School, Ted learned his craft with the old Lanchester company, served a short period in the service department of the Birmingham car-distributors, P. J. Evans Ltd., and, in the early ‘thirties, opened his own, purpose-built garage, The Triangle Service Station. 

From here there soon emanated a series of “Shelsley Specials” (and a few hairy road cars also). Ted suffered fools anything but gladly and was no respecter of red tape, so that some of his creations, although brilliantly engineered, sent cold shivers down the spines of scrutineers. The absence of a fireproof-bulkhead was not unknown! An early example was based on a blown Lea-Francis which had run in Ulster, another on a French Lombard of dubious origins. I also remember a Salmson, with remarkably narrow body, which was used in trials.

After the war Ted acquired, and extensively rebuilt, the Hudson-engined, Morris Minor-based “Shelsley Special” originally contrived for SU’s Peter Skinner. But the ultimate “Triangle” was “The Flying Saucer”, which utilised a 21-litre Rolls-Royce Kestrel engine, rear-mounted in a Daimler Scout four-wheel-drive chassis coupled, so Ted himself told me, to the gearbox out of one of Jack Moor’s 30/98 Vauxhalls. A shade unwieldy for Shelsley Walsh, or Prescott, this device justified itself with an FTD at Brighton Speed Trials. Subsequently there was some quibble over Ted’s Competition Licence and I think this was the hey-day of his actual competitive driving days.

An ERA passed through his hands, which I think Gordon Chapman drove for him, and then he sold the Triangle Service Station and retired to a half-timbered cottage (which had also been “tuned”) and maintained his interests by fettling a series of unusual road cars, a Jaguar saloon which had raced at Silverstone, a V12 Ferrari and a Wankel-engined Ro-80.

A life-long bachelor, he found companionship in a string of much-loved spaniel dogs and was very fond of his beer. 

Austen May