A lot of people overestimate the values of older cars that are basket cases.
One of my dad's friends decades ago had just the body of a 1920s Dodge sedan—no interior, glass, frame, drivetrain, hood, or anything else, just the body shell—and it had been kept outdoors and was very rusty. It might have been good as a template for fabricating a new body, not much else. But the friend was convinced he was going to get $6,000 for that rusty shell.
One of the auto magazines in the '00s had an account of an elderly lady selling an early '60s Studebaker convertible for over $10,000. It had been her late husband's old car from decades ago. Turned out the car had sat in a garage, the top and interior were in tatters, and the engine and transmission had not been run in over 30 years and were probably seized. The woman was told that at best the car was good only for parts and was worth only a few hundred dollars.
This Model T is in the same category. Add to that the old-car hobby has been vanishing for years and no one wants these older basket cases because parts have largely dried up. If this hadn't been a T with so many parts available, but say a real orphan such as a Maxwell or Oakland, there would be nothing available to restore it or return it to running order. If you don't believe me, wander the swap meets such as Hershey and see for yourself just how little is out there for vehicles from the 1930s or older that aren't Model Ts, As, early Ford V-8s, or some late–1930s Chevrolets.
Financial advisors are telling elderly people to ask their potential heirs and family members whether anyone even wants their collections, keepsakes, old vehicles, etc., because often nobody does want them. For example, no one wants grandma's old upright piano. This should be a warning to any of you who might have something like this incomplete Model T buried in a garage. The odds are none of your kids, grandkids, et al., want to deal with it. The scrap dealer will get it instead.