A Few of My Favorite Things

On my third birthday, September 9, 1947, I was given a bright red Radio Flyer wagon. It was not my first wheeled vehicle - I had a stroller-turned-kiddie-car when a toddler, but after my sister was born my Dad put on a rumble seat so I had to share it. The Radio Flyer, though, was all mine, and I used it for hauling, for downhill coasting, for learning to drive - at least I pretended to do so.

Although the first of the Tonka toys debuted shortly afterwards, I never had any. A few years later I was given a Doepke toy, the Adams road grader. Doepke made a whole series of construction toys as well as a few large-scale cars. My grader built miles and miles of roads, and looked something like this afterwards. My real workhorse was a Smith-Miller short-wheelbase rack body truck like this one. When I bemoaned the fact that it wasn't a dump truck, which I needed for roadbuilding, Dad made an ersatz dump body out of an old turpentine can and it worked fine. I was proud of my Doepkes and Smith-Miller, looking down my nose at other kids' Tonkas and Marx trucks because they were not as realistic. When I was about twelve, an older friend gave me his Doepkes, including a Wooldridge earth mover, a cement mixer and another Adams grader, ones that had rarely, if ever, been outside. By that time I was spending more time on my bicycle than building roads, so they remained in good shape.

When our children reached toy-playing age, we bought them Tonkas and I kept my treasures in the attic. So today, my Doepkes, the Adams grader, Wooldridge earth mover and cement mixer, are still in pretty good shape. My favorite is still the Smith-Miller GMC cab-over truck. For all the work it's done it's in remarkable condition, largely because it's mostly cast aluminum. Of course I needed cars to drive on the roads I built. I don't remember what happened to the third-birthday cars, but I had several generations of others. Some lasted better than others, but that's a story for another time.

The Radio Flyer is still with us. It graduated to gardening duty, was repainted many times and eventually advanced wear required a bit of reinforcement. We still use it for chores around the yard, and on occasion I reminisce about its role as a scooter, for parallel parking and for speedy downhill rides.

One Owner, Lo Miles

We all dream about an ad like this, an old car with minimal mileage, purchased new by an elderly person and driven only to church. Well, be careful what you wish for; you might get it. I did!

In the autumn of 1984, my mostly-faithful Rover was getting worn out, and we'd had good luck with the 21-year-old Falcon wagon that had been our family car for four years. When a friend came up with a 33,000-mile 1969 Buick, I eagerly bought it. With very minimal fender rust and an immaculate interior it seemed like an incredible buy at used car money.

The car was a bit of an enigma. A bottom-feeder Special Deluxe, in a year when most small Buicks were Skylarks, it had been ordered by a 75-year-old gent, and equipped with few power options. It had the 350 cid V8, not, as you probably know, related to the Chevy, Pontiac or Olds small blocks. Instead it was basically a Buick V6 with two extra pots. He treated himself to a Hydra-Matic, but brakes and steering were manual, and although the car had a speed minder and various courtesy lights it was nearly devoid of trim and sported dog-dish hub caps. Still, it was unusual, drove decently (once I got some radial tires on it), and had been well maintained. Its last oil change had been 300 miles (and one year) earlier.

There was evidence of a Florida trip or two, but mostly it had gone to the store and back, less than ten miles each time. One day, to solve a minor oil leak, I changed the valve cover gaskets. Big shock! I found an engine almost totally gummed with sludge. Taking care to keep it out of the sump, I removed as much as I could. More ominous than the sludge was a puddle of antifreeze in the right cylinder head where coolant shouldn't be. I said a prayer or two and put the valve covers back on.

That explained a slow loss of coolant, but the source of the leak was not evident. Eventually, fate intervened, in the form of a Dodge Omni that rear-ended it while parked at the curb, shortening it by a full twelve inches. It took forever to squeeze a decent settlement out of the perp's insurance company, because they insisted the car was not collectible, despite its pristine condition.

In the end, I parted it out. Its nose restored a Skylark convertible in Michigan, and many of its parts went to upstate New York. I gave the carcase to our local fire department for rescue training, and I've still got some pieces left, like the sweet-shifting Turbo 350 that cured my aversion to slush boxes. The short block awaits a trip to the scrap yard.

I replaced it with a 1970 Chevy Impala, another one-owner car, this time with over 100,000 miles. I changed valve cover gaskets on its 350, too. It was so clean inside you could eat off them. I don't buy cars with less than 100,000 miles any more. You can't tell if they're going to last.

Austin Power

New Year's Day 1929 found Sir Herbert and Mrs. Austin aboard the RMS Berengaria bound for New York. Among their baggage were four Austin Sevens. Sir Herbert hoped to find a franchisee for his minicar in the New World. After returning home he heard from some bankers in western Pennsylvania, and in due course the American Austin Car Company was established at Butler.

The American directors of the new firm felt the English Austin needed some flashier lines, and looked to Detroit for inspiration. Hayes Body Company submitted proposals by Alexis de Sakhnoffsky, a Russian count who had become their art director. Spiffy little coupes and roadsters were placed into production and advertised in a brochure illustrated by Esquire artist Lawrence Fellows. Borrowing the "sweep panel" associated with Duesenberg, Sakhnoffsky made the cars jaunty, and they looked as just as attractive from the rear, and the driving position, while bit cramped, was nicely appointed. A delivery van was also offered, with prices starting at $445, which, inauspciously, would also buy a full-size Model A Ford.

The car's engine was a mirror image of the British version, and the car took a stylish Bantam rooster as its mascot, proudly displayed on the radiator cap. Reportedly, it was the first American car to locate the battery under the hood. Alas, despite a reputed 184,000 orders, only 8,558 cars were delivered by the end of 1930. Sales in 1931 were only 1,279, and the company went into receivership. Roy Evans, the charismatic Florida dealer, took charge, selling most of the accumulated inventory for prices as low as $275. Evans reorganized the company into the American Bantam Car Company, had Sakhnoffsky update the styling and borrowed some money. The new Bantam car entered production late in mid-1937. "A Better Buy" the company called it.

In addition to the familiar roadster and coupe, models included a pickup, station wagon and panel delivery trucks both regular and posh "Boulevard" style. A Speedster model had seating for four, later cars moving the headlamps out to the fenders. Prices ranged from $399 to $565 in 1939, but customers still weren't buying. Only about 6,000 Bantams were built through 1940. By that time, the company was competing in the "Jeepstakes," the Army's campaign for a 4x4 utility vehicle. Although the Bantam "Jeep" (though it wasn't called that) was attractive to the Quartermaster Corps, Bantam didn't have the capability to build in quantity, so Willys and Ford got the contracts. Bantam, however, was given a consolation award to build trailers for the armed services, which they did throughout World War II and in the civilian market until 1956.

With production so low, you'd think they'd be rare, but unrestored cars keep turning up at Hershey.

Drake's Darrin, Elaine's TC

The Greenwich Concours d'Elegance came to town this past weekend. Greenwich is a two-day event, showcasing American vintage and performance cars on Saturday, from 1904 Searchmont to 1988 Camaro IROC-Z, and postwar European cars on Sunday. This year's Sunday exhibits ranged from a 250 cc Isetta to a custom-built 540 horsepower Ferrari 612 Kappa.

A subtle underlying theme this year concerned cars of interesting provenance, automobiles owned by noteworthy people. These included a 1940 Packard Darrin convertible belonging to Drake Darrin, great nephew of its designer Howard "Dutch" Darrin, and Dennis and Ann Marie Nash's 1949 MG TC, originally purchased by John Bond, the late publisher of Road & Track, for his wife Elaine. Of longer legacy was the 1905 Renault town car delivered to Sarah Cooper Hewitt, granddaughter of Peter Cooper, in New York City. It was shown at Greenwich by Dragone Classic Motorcars of Bridgeport, Connecticut. An Alfa Romeo 1750 Spyder, once a Mille Miglia competitor, later belonged to the late automotive author Ralph Stein.

This year's Concours moved the classic motorcycle class to the water's edge, and reprised the popular Concours d'Marine for vintage yachts. Greenwich is an aesthetic festival, to the delight of artists and photographers. Not all exhibits are automotive; Michael Maniatis enjoyed discussing the de Havilland Tiger Moth replica he built in his Manhattan loft. In recent years, Greenwich has hosted a Christie's auction. Star of this year's sale was a barn fresh 1938 Bugatti Type 57C Atalante coupe. Despite being re-bodied, it surged past estimates to set its new owner back $852,500 with the buyer's premium.

Judges swiftly completed their rounds while renowned journalist David E. Davis, Jr., was interviewed by Bob Long for Motor Trend Radio, and a pair of Gull Wing Mercedes 300s contemplated taking flight. At afternoon's end, the crowds gathered for prize-giving, narrated by Grand Marshal Don Peterson and Chief Judge Edward Herrmann. Best car and costume award went to the Tomko family and their 1909 Buick; Saturday's People's Choice was the bright orange 1955 Lincoln Indianapolis, a design study by Mario Boano. Best of Show, decided by vote of the judges, went to Joseph and Margie Cassini's LeBaron-bodied 1934 Packard Aero sport coupe.

On Sunday, the people went for the Dragone brothers' 1928 Vauxhall Hurlingham boat-tailed speedster, while Best of Show was awarded to the 1937 Bugatti Type 57 of Malcolm and Natalie Pray. After a wet Concours in 2006, co-chairs Bruce and Genia Wennerstrom placed an order for good weather in 2007. The heavens delivered, holding off incipient showers until the end of awards presentation on Sunday.

As with many shows, some of the most interesting things are seen in the parking lot. Interesting provenance reigned there, too, in the form of a Ford Lotus Cortina formerly the property of Colin Chapman.

The Concours d'Elegance, which benefits disaster relief agency Americares, will return to Roger Sherman Baldwin Park in Greenwich on June 5th and 6th, 2008. Don't miss it.