Internet Spawns a Demolition Derby With a Wrinkle

It is in this environment that Moore now bids on cars on Tuesdays, having an average of five weekly purchases from the Waldorf lot over the past 12 months, according to records he supplied.

He generally starts getting ready on Monday by printing out a list of cars that will be bid on. For the April 4 auction, he has approximately 680 entries to look over. He makes small marks next to about 20 that interest him -- generally low-mileage wrecks that he knows are drawing attention for their parts from area auto mechanics. Moore then logs on to the Waldorf Web site, studying pictures of the 20 wrecks to scope out the damage.

At noon, the auction begins. Moore sits on a stool behind the front counter, working on his computer. All around him are the sounds of salvage: salesmen calling out parts that body shops need, customers arriving to pick up parts.

The vehicles pop up on his computer -- three at a time in three computer windows. Keeping track of them all leaves no time for lunch. A fish sandwich and french fries, inside a foam container next to his keyboard, grow cold.

Moore tries to get a wrecked Ford Ranger but is topped by a Guatemalan. Minutes later, he scores a six-year-old Cadillac Escalade for $1,850 but later is bested by a Latvian on a $725 Ford van.

On some cars, Moore can only watch, slowly munching his food. A Canadian bidder snags a 2005 BMW Z4 for more than $13,700, besting a Polish bidder. A Lithuanian outduels a countryman, paying $5,500 for a Volvo. During such bidding breaks, Moore sometimes comments aloud about world geography. A week earlier, when a $4,600 bid from Bosnia popped up, he offered an explanation noting the time difference. "That's a Mercedes; they wake up over there" for that brand, he said.

As the auction goes on, it isn't just bidders from faraway countries pulling cars out of Waldorf. It is from faraway states -- California, Texas and Illinois. These buyers probably fall into two categories. They are large enough to afford to load the wrecks onto trucks and haul them across states, or they use technology better than Moore to automatically pinpoint where the wrecked gems can be found -- and whether they are worth paying big hauling fees.

Moore stays local, bidding largely on feel. "There's a lot sharper out there than me," he says quietly. "But sometimes I do okay just going by instinct."

He ends up buying more cars than usual, having purchased nine by late in the bidding. Up on the screen, he sees a car he wants, even though he hadn't previewed it: a 2005 Toyota Scion xB with only 27,810 miles. Moore clicks away, dueling with a bidder from Kentucky. He wins it, for $1,950.

"I could be in trouble," Moore says, clicking through the digital images. John Gannon, a salesman wearing a Nationals cap, walks over and looks at the screen. They are concerned that the engine may have been sprayed by a fire extinguisher.

Two weeks later, the car has been delivered to their salvage yard. It's in better shape than they feared. The doors look good. The back hatch is good. Motor and transmission are good. Because the car is so new, other salvage yards are less likely to have these parts in stock. Over the next two years, if all goes well, they will sell $6,000 worth of parts off it.