Greenwich is my official start of summer (OK, early June doesn’t exactly qualify, but still…).  It’s normally bright and sunny on Greenwich weekend, but this year was an exception – overcast and threatening to rain.  But the show, as always, did not disappoint.

 

First to catch the eye upon entering the show grounds: a 1957 Ferrari 335 Scaglietti Spider.  One of four produced in 1957, this model had some mixed success in the 1957-58 Grand Prix seasons.  At least one was destroyed in racing.  This car’s twin changed hands two years ago at auction for $36 million.

It’s pretty rare to see any Lancias – this one was particularly appealing  It’s a 1960 Flaminia GT with a body by Touring, a model that was in production from 1957 to 1970.

One of the things that make classic Lancias so special – a narrow-angle V6 (the world’s first production V6) of 2.5 liters, about 120 horsepower, driven through the front wheels.  This well-restored example has a particularly clean and well-detailed engine compartment.

Yes, another gray 1960 Lancia Flaminia.  This one is a Flaminia Sport, mechanically identical to the Flaminia GT but with an aerodynamic coupe body.

A little TV, anyone?  This one is a 1955 Fiat 1100 TV, body by Pininfarina.  One of 127 built, this one was an auto show car in its youth.

Some of the 1100 TVs were equipped with a wraparound “panoramic” rear window like this one.  Only 10 of the production run were so equipped.

The odd, tailfinned body of a 1957 Ferrari 250 GT – a rare one with body by Boano.

Didn’t Maserati build some beautiful cars?  This one is a 1964 3500 GTi convertible, with a body by Vignale.  Unlike the sophisticated Ferraris of the day, Maserati stuck with a straight 6 of 3.5 liters, rated at 240 horsepower.

Before Lamborghini got all carried away with bizarre wedge shaped cars, they built some fine, classic-looking grand touring coupes.  This one is a 1967 400GT, one of the earliest Lamborghinis – powered by a 4-liter V12.

It looks like a prewar, but it isn’t.  It’s a 1947 Rolls Royce Silver Wraith, with a custom convertible body by Gurney Nutting.  “Custom” is a little redundant: Rolls only made the Silver Wraith chassis and all bodywork was third-party custom.

It may have been the most expensive car in the world, but what do you do if the battery is dead or the starter fails?  You crank!  Yes, a detachable crank, and an access to the lower crankshaft pulley, was standard equipment.  A real sign of British confidence in their electrical components.

A lovely restoration of a charming prewar tourer: a 1938 MG-TA Tickford Drophead Coupe.  Just 252 of this model were made, and by 1939, the British motor industry was shutting down for the duration.

Speaking of which: this 1939 Lagonda Drophead Coupe was probably among the last to be made before the war.  It was powered by a 4.5 liter V12, reportedly producing something like 200 horsepower.  Lagonda was still an independent make before the war; shortly after the war, it was acquired by Aston Martin.

It’s so odd, it’s almost attractive: The 1962 Daimler SP250, originally intended to be an alternative to Jaguars (really?) but saddled with some really hideous bodywork.  Its 2.5 liter V8 engine almost – I said “almost” – made up for its appearance.  Fun fact: The model was originally called the Daimler Dart, but when Daimler announced plans to export it to the US, Chrysler Corporation objected.

I didn’t know what it was, either.  It’s a great story: SS Cars, which had only recently branched out into automobiles from motorcycle sidecars, made a nice sedan in the early 30s, but the company’s managing director, William Walmsley, wanted a sports car.  So he commissioned this aluminum body for the sedan’s chassis, using the same sidevalve 6-cylinder engine, and it became known as the 1934 SS-1 Walmsley Roadster, the forerunner of a line of fabulous SS roadsters.  Then came the war and the SS name was too unpleasant to use – the car was then rechristened Jaguar.

I admit it, I love these.  This is a 1967 Sunbeam Tiger Mk. II, among the last of the Tigers.  It’s powered by the same 289 V8 as the then-current Mustangs, but it was about a quarter-ton lighter.  By the end of 1967, Rootes Group – the parent company of Sunbeam – was acquired by Chrysler, and the Ford-powered Tiger didn’t have a chance.

Was there ever a better looking sports car?  This XK-E is a ’67, the last of the covered headlights.

Gullwing Motorcars, a Queens dealer and event sponsor, brought this magnificent late-30s Jaguar SS-100 to the show.  It wasn’t part of the judging, and it was less than concours-quality – but it was great to see nonetheless.

The interior of the SS-100 presented better than the exterior.  With few exceptions, the Jaguar interiors didn’t change very much – in layout, details, and materials – right through the postwar XK-120s and 140s.

Speaking of which – the same dealer also brought along an early-50s XK-120 drophead coupe, a very nice example at that.

One of the vendors brought a freshly-restored 1951 Lancia Aurelia GT coupe – a seldom-seen example.

Always great to have at least one Bugatti at a show.  This one is a 1938 57C drophead.

About 700 Type 57 Bugattis were produced between 1934 and 1940.  The roadgoing ones were powered by a 3.3 liter double overhead cam straight-8 of about 135 horsepower.

This extremely rare item is a 1957 Facel Vega FV2 convertible.  Built in France, it was powered by a Chrysler 331 hemi and a Chrysler automatic transmission.  Huge and stylish, it attracted plenty of celebrity attention, but few sales.  The big Facels were sold from 1954 to 1962, but fewer than a thousand were made – and only six of them were convertibles like this one.

This is a car with a question, and that question is “why?”  Why would someone turn a 1965 Ferrari 330GT into a station wagon?  Ask body builder Vignale, who showed this car at the 1968 Turin auto show.

It almost looks like a Karmann Ghia.  It sort of is, though – it’s a 1963 Volkswagen Type 34, designed by Ghia and with a body built by Karmann.  Unlike the familiar Karmann Ghia (the Type 14), this one is built on a Type 3 chassis (in the US, “Squareback”) and it was powered by a 1500cc flat four, larger than the Karmann Ghia’s 1200.  It was sold worldwide through 1969 – but never in the United States.  Only about 40,000 were built in nine years.

And now for the show’s main event.  This was a unique reunion of the cars that Briggs Cunningham built between 1951 and 1955.  His intent was to build an internationally-competitive sports-racer, with only incidental value as a street car.  But a total of 36 were made in five years, most of which were street cars, and 33 were shown in Greenwich this year.  Fun fact: Cunningham ended production of the money-losing car because the IRS threatened to treat the enterprise as a hobby rather than a business.

A string of C3 Cunningham coupes and convertibles.  I was struck by the variation among them – some set up for vintage racing, some for high-end shows, some under restoration, some seemingly being used daily.

Among the other Cunninghams with celebrity history, this one stands out – it’s owned by Jay Leno, who featured its restoration on his TV show.

Breaking free from the Cunninghams for a moment – unlike the Ferrari suburban seen earlier, this 1967 Aston Martin DB6 “Shooting Brake” has pleasant, practical lines – and it was sort of a production model.  Although Aston never offered this body style, six were produced by Radford.  This is among the last DB6 Astons, and the car – mostly original – has always been owned by the same family.  Fun fact: a “shooting brake” is a British term for this body style; “brake” is a form of carriage, and “shooting” refers to its ability to carry a hunting party.  Sort of an SUV, I suppose.

 

 

 

Not rare, just cute and well restored: a 1960 Morris Minor Traveller Estate Wagon.

Stop me if you’ve already seen these…  it’s a 1951 Moskvitch 400, one of a few Russian cars shown in Greenwich today.  During the war, Russian troops captured the Opel factory in Germany and appropriated all of the tooling.  After the war, the Moskvitch debuted – essentially, a 1937 Opel Cadet.

If the car is rare – how much rarer is all of the factory literature shown with it?

Back to Cunningham for a moment: here’s one of the very first, a C2R that was built for competition at LeMans in 1951.  It failed to finish and was later converted to street use.

I can’t resist: one more Cunningham.  This is the C1, the very first Cunningham.  Built in 1951, it was raced when new by legendary driver (and later, car builder) John Fitch.  Unlike other Cunninghams, which were almost all Chrysler powered, this one sports a Cadillac V8.

The C1 shows a certain Jaguar influence in its tapered tail and cockpit opening.  But the graceful lines are offset by the huge high-profile tires and massive bumpers, which appear to come off of an American sedan.

Inside the C1, it’s all business – a full set of Stewart Warner gauges, light switches, a starter button – and nothing else.

Some very unusual coupe bodywork on a 1935 Jaguar SS.

Maybe it’s just me, but I think this 1935 SS looks a lot more graceful from the front than from the side.

The epitome of 1950s elegance: a 1952 Bentley Mk. VI.  The convertible bodywork, constructed a year after the car was built, was done by Graber in Switzerland.

From the early days of Grand Prix racing: a 1930 Alfa Romeo 1750 “Testa Fissa.”  Raced when new, it was subsequently converted to road duty with 4-passenger bodywork, but it was restored recently to its original configuration.

Again, a dazzling assortment of superb cars come out for Greenwich every year!

 

On this bright, sunny September Sunday, while Florida was surviving a hurricane, the northwestern Philadelphia suburbs were hosting the Radnor Hunt concours.  This particular show, in an opulent, equestrian setting, is a first-time event for me.  Let’s see what the show has to offer this year.

But first. Let’s admire the horse-drawn carriage display, complete with period costumes.  This show is a benefit for the Thorncroft Equestrian Center, so I guess they really needed to do this.  Keeps the horses busy.

Still no cars yet.  But I’ve never seen a show with a more impressive display of antique bicycles.  Here’s a small sample – high-wheelers from the 1870s.

A couple more – in the foreground, what is called a “bone-shaker,” a heavyweight precursor to the bicycle with wood-and-iron wheels (hence “bone-shaker,” I guess).  This one is apparently from 1865.  And in the background, a replica of an 1867 Roper steam cycle.  That’s right – it’s a steam boiler mounted immediately below the rider.  What could possibly go wrong?

Let’s move over to cars now.  We begin with a superb restoration of a 1903 Cadillac rear-entry tonneau, from the first year of Cadillac production.  Powered by a single-cylinder engine of about 100 cubic inches, it was rated around 6 or 7 horsepower.  About 2,500 were made that year.

Great car shows always surprise me.  Today’s first surprise: a make of car I had never heard of.  Here’s a fine example of a 1912 Little.  A Little?  Little was named for one of the company’s founders, and the car is about the same size and price of a Model T Ford.  Like the T, it’s a 20-horsepower four, and it retailed at exactly the price of a Model T ($600).

The Little was simplicity itself, right down to the wooden floorboards.  The company was owned by William Durant, the founder of General Motors, who was forced out of the nascent GM during a 1910 recession.  He responded to that insult by forming a new company, Republic Motors, which soon acquired two complementary car brands: Little and a newfangled thing called Chevrolet.

Little script on the side of the gas tank.  Barely a year after the Little’s introduction, Durant figured out that Little and Chevrolet were pretty similar cars and it made no sense to keep them both in production.  Little was discontinued after about 3,000 cars were built and the production capacity was switched to Chevrolet.  Who knows how many Littles are left?

One of many cycles at the show – this one a prewar BSA with a really cool sidecar.

This beauty is a 1932 Bugatti Type 55.  Derived from the successful Type 51 race car, the Type 55 was in production from 1932 to 1935.  “Production” is perhaps an overstatement.  Only 38 were built in those years.  It’s powered by a 120-hrsepower supercharged straight eight.  Originally delivered in Luxembourg, this car was partly stripped in the 1960s for parts for another Type 55 restoration, and was subsequently re-bodied.

This magnificent thing is a 1934 Delage D8S convertible, with body by Fernandez and Darrin.  As the sign next to the car said: “one drives an Alfa Romeo, is driven in a Rolls Royce, but gives only a Delage to his favorite mistress.”  The D8 series of Delage remained in production until the outbreak of World War II.  The “S” variant of the model, like this one, was powered by a 4-liter, 120 horsepower overhead cam straight 8.

Inside the Delage, elegant leather and instruments.  Unusual for a thirties car, this one has a 4-speed, partly-synchronized transmission.

And what a radiator cap!  Crystal and probably aftermarket from the car’s era.

One of my favorites, a 1937 Cord 812 Beverly sedan – with its Lycoming V8 engine and front wheel drive, probably the most technologically sophisticated car of its day.  The icing on the cake, as the external exhaust indicates, this is one of the supercharged models.

Cord was one of the featured makes in this year’s show.  This eye-catching car is a 1930 L29 convertible – the earliest Cord and the first American car to reach production with front wheel drive.

The simple interior of the L29 – but note the lethal-looking spotlight handles!

What are the odds?  A nearly-identical Cord L29 convertible, even with the same paint combination!  I think even in its day, you’d never see two of these parked together!

I never get tired of seeing, and photographing, the 1937 Cord 812 Phaeton.  I can only imagine the sensation this car caused when it was introduced in 1936.

One of the special classes at this show was the cars of Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg.  And here’s just such a car: a 1932 Auburn 12-160A speedster.

Huge and stylish, the 12-160A had the distinction of being the least expensive 12-cylinder car in the US when it was new.  But in the depths of the depression, a cheap 12-cylinder car – about $1400 –   just wasn’t much of a draw.   But what a car – a 391 cubic inch, 160 horsepower Lycoming V12 and a Columbia 2-speed rear axle, giving the car, effectively, 6 speeds forward and two reverse.

The high-quality restoration brings out the beauty of the dramatic boat tail design of the Auburn.

Look closely – that’s a 4,000 rpm tach and a 120 mph speedometer.  Pretty heady stuff for 1932.

The only thing that’s better than an Auburn 12-160A: two nearly identical ones.

Classics I might actually be able to afford!  And with the very best fuel economy.

I never saw one of these!  It’s a 1950 Lea-Francis 2.5 liter.  This was the product of one of the smaller British makes, but one with an extensive history. In business for more than 60 years.  But this was one of just 10,000 cars that carried the Lea-Francis name, but one of just 77 2.5 liter cars built between 1949-53.

Here’s what makes the Lea-Francis so significant: an overhead cam four producing about 100 horsepower – nearly double the power of the concurrent MG.

The Lea-Francis is little different from prewar cars, and it lacks the elegant wood and leather of the higher-end cars like Jaguar.  I believe that all of the Lea-Francis cars were right-hand-drive; they were never imported into the US.

Lea-Francis, like Jaguar, hails from Coventry.  This badge was last used when Lea-Francis made its last cars, in 1960.

Not nearly as rare as the Lea-Francis, but this was also among the last of the old-fashioned British sporty tourers – a 1953 Sunbeam Alpine.  Remember To Catch a Thief?  Grace Kelly drove one of these.

This wasn’t really in the show – really just in the club cruise-in parking lot.  I think, but I’m not certain, that this is the Maserati 450S that’s owned by the nearby Simeone museum.

It’s an odd mix of race-ready raw aluminum on one hand, and elegant quilted leather and wood steering wheel rim on the other.

The lovely “pontoon” body Mercedes – this one a 1958 220SE convertible, the so-called W128 body.  Once something of a throwaway living in the shadow of the SL series cars, these have become extremely rare and very, very valuable.

This Mercedes is about as pretty inside as out – wood, leather, a multi-band radio, and a four-on-the-column.

This one had me fooled.  It’s an Iso Rivolta Lele, one of a few hundred made around 1970.  The Lele was the last Iso car, in production when the company went under in 1974.  Like most of the other Isos, it was powered by a small-block Chevy – this one, a 350.

Pretty rare, even in its day. This was among the last TVRs sold in the US – a 280i from the mid-1980s.  This unusual sports car was powered by the same 2.8 liter V6 that powered the old Ford Capri.

Back to the main show.  This is among the last 4-cylinder Morgans sold in the US – a 1967 Super Sport, and so spotless it’s hard to believe it was ever driven.  After this car was imported, Morgan pulled out of the US market, and then moved on to a few years of selling aluminum-engine V8s.

A very eye-catching Lincoln, circa 1935.  But it’s not exactly what it appears to be.  The body is a recreation and the chassis and running gear is a mishmash of KA, KB, and modern hardware.

Mail trucks were not built this well even when they were new.  It’s a 1931 Ford AA.  The AA was the truck variant of the Model A.

This handsome convertible-coupe is about a 1930 LaSalle.  Note the flathead V8 – basically the twin of the one used in the concurrent Cadillac.

A 1928 Springfield Rolls Royce Ascot tourer, body by New York-based Brewster.  Its original owner was part of the DuPont family, and this car is currently owned by a Delaware museum.

Kind of a ratty 1923 Buick roadster. But here’s the interesting part: this car is nearly 100% unrestored, other than tires and other soft parts.

How fast can YOU plow?  Yes, this Porsche tractor was made by the very same Porsche in the mid-to-late 1950s.  It’s powered by a 2-cylinder diesel, so I guess the answer is, you can’t plow very fast.

Of all the glamorous cars you see at a concours… this isn’t one of them.  It’s a 1913 Morton Traction Truck, more or less a tractor with the ability to drive farm machinery through a power takeoff.  It was a fascinating restoration project and filled with noisy and greasy machinery, if that’s your thing.

A 1928 Pierce Arrow model 36, which was heavily customized in its day.  Its original owner was Paramount Studios, and it was reportedly used to chauffeur Marlene Dietrich around, way back when.  This car is now part of the AACA Museum.

A 1960 Fiat Abarth 750 coupe.  Abarth was one of the featured makes in this year’s show.  Incredibly, these cars were frequently raced back in the day – incredibly, because they were powered by a 46 cubic inch four.  It’s part of the magic of low weight: this one is a full half-ton lighter than my Miata.

Another one I never heard of before!  This one is a 1958 Alken D2 roadster, one of about 50 that were made in California.  Like all of the more familiar kit cars, these were built on a VW floor pan with standard VW components, although this one was freshened up with a 1600 cc Porsche engine.

The distinctive pedals and gearshift reveal the Alken’s humble origins.

Volvo didn’t begin importing cars to the US until 1955 – years after this 1952 PV 444 found a buyer in Sweden.  The familiar fastback body of the PV series was nearly unchanged from its introduction in World War II until it was phased out in the late 60s.

This one is an unrestored 44,000 mile car that was just imported from Sweden.  A quirk of the 444 model: it was equipped with a 3-speed transmission.  The 544, which came along in 1958, was upgraded to a 4-speed.

The Volvo’s “slow” sign was probably self-evident: the 444 was powered by a single-carburetor 1.4 liter somewhere around 40 horsepower.  The 544 marked the introduction of the B18 engine, with about 100 horsepower from 1.8 liters, and a pretty good reputation for performance.

This 1956 190SL is a perfect example of how a 190SL should look.  It’s a multiple award winner.

That same Mercedes: as clean, neat, and authentic as the day it was delivered.  Surprisingly, this car’s restoration is more than 20 years old.

A very nice restoration of a 1937 MG Q Type, prepared for racing.  It’s powered by a supercharged 750 cc four, producing a remarkable 147 horsepower!  (That’s better than 3 horsepower per cubic inch – probably a prewar record.)

What sports car racing looked like in the 1930s.  Note the 5500 rpm red line indicated on the tach.

No respect at all.  That’s what the Triumph Stag garnered, despite the distinction of having a 2.5-liter V8 and a full roll cage (well, sort of).  These cars earned a reputation for terrible build quality, unreliability, rust, and no dealer support – so seeing any Stag today is reason for a double-take.  This one is an unrestored low-mileage original.

If I could only take one home with me, this would be the one – a 1972 Ferrari 365 GTB Daytona.  Powered by a mighty 4.4 liter double overhead cam V12, this was the fastest car of its era, capable of just over 170 mph.

I’ve seen SS-100 Jaguars before… but never in French Blue!

Maps, goggles, and gloves – the perfect accessories for an SS-100!

A very early example – a 1964 – of a 300SE cabriolet.  The very top of the Mercedes line that year, it was equipped with an automatic, air suspension, and air conditioning – unheard of luxury in an era of rather basic Mercedes.  The headlights reveal that this is a European-spec car.

A later version of a Jag XK120, roughly 1954 or so, just before it was supplanted by the XK140.

Although immaculately restored, this Jag received a nearly-invisible upgrade to make it more streetworthy: a modern 5-speed transmission.

The license plate tells it all on this 1969 Barracuda: “Mod Top.”

And what’s a Mod Top?  A hideous floral vinyl top on this otherwise-attractive Plymouth.

If that’s not enough – the matching interior that seems to cry out for a set of seat covers.  I may have nightmares about this.

To take the evil taste out of my mouth, let’s look at a nice 1953 Chrysler New Yorker convertible with acres of beautiful red paint and more chrome than you’ll find in any one spot on earth.

This is one of the last Chryslers to be equipped with the plaid “Highlander” interior option.  The first Highlander-equipped cars were prewar.

This heavily equipped Chrysler came with a couple of rare dealer-installed options: the self-winding mechanical clock in the steering wheel hub; and the red box that blocks out a portion of the speedometer, whose purpose is to deliver a lit cigarette to the driver!

A 1967 Fiat Abarth 1300 – something else you almost never see in this country.  Oddly, it’s powered by a Fiat 124 engine, but it’s way lighter than the 124.

I’ve seen this car before, but can’t walk by it.  It’s a 1931 Duesenberg J tourster, body by Derham, which regularly makes the rounds of concours events around the country.

And this one, parked right next to it, is the same year, make, model, and body builder.

Speaking of Duesenberg: this is among the very first, a 1921.  That year, cars identical to this one made a good showing at the Indianapolis 500 and took top honors at the French Grand Prix.  Look closely and you’ll see a Duesenberg innovation: hydraulic brakes.

So when was the next time an American car won an international race?  More than 40 years later – the Ford GTs at LeMans.

Could it be I’ve been at a show all afternoon and haven’t photographed a single Packard?  OK, this one was worth the wait.  It’s a 1938 16^th series V12, with a convertible sedan body by Derham.

How can something this big and old be so much fun?  It’s the famous Auburn 852 Speedster.  Sadly, this was the very last Auburn, made only in 1935.  By 1936, Auburn was bankrupt and closed down.

With its supercharged straight-8, two speed rear axle (making it, effectively, a 6-speed), and a classy, sporty interior… what’s not to like?

An earlier Auburn – this one a 1928 8-88 boat-tail speedster.  This one is a 4.2-liter straight 8, producing 88 horsepower (hence the name 8-88, right).

The real charm of this car is the boat tail.  The flashy bodywork, set off by extravagant paint, elegant pinstriping, chrome wire wheels, sidemount spare tires, and the golf bag door brings the Gatsby era to life.

Radnor Hunt was a very special show this year, and the spectacular rural Pennsylvania setting  made for an exceptional experience.  I’ll be back next year!

 

Hershey is known for two important classic car shows: the massive AACA meet in October, when it invariably rains, and the exclusive Elegance at Hershey in June.  On this 95-degree Sunday afternoon, I’ve taken my first trip to The Elegance.  And elegant it was.

But first a visit to the vendors’ tents.  No, I did not get into the restoration business.  And the owner of this shop is apparently having a spelling problem.

One of the Hershey events is a timed hillclimb for classic racing cars, which takes place on Saturday, but some of the cars return for display on Sunday.  This is one that displays some classic presidential bumper stickers from the car’s heyday – 1964 and 1968.

Here’s the other end of those bumpers stickers.  It’s a Devin, circa 1960 – a kit car using a fiberglass body, some of which actually saw road duty.  I’m not positive, but this appears to be a Devin SS from 1958-59, of which about 30 were built.  Notice the Chevy logo in the grille and – look closely – a 283 Corvette V8.

Much bigger and more familiar, a ’57 full race Corvette.

Under the Corvette’s hood, a 283 V8 with real, live Rochester mechanical fuel injection.  Also, look closely and you’ll see two modifications that are inauthentic in a 1957 racer: an alternator and a dual brake master cylinder.

This was someone’s homemade special with an Oldsmobile V8 – a fast, loud, dangerous way to get up a hill.

Here’s the most original hillclimb racer: it’s a Kissel.  It is apparently a Gold Bug roadster from the early 1920s.

A strange story: in the late 1950s, someone modified a dragster/dry lakes speedster to compete on sports car tracks, and apparently it did quite well.  Somewhat later, this car was sold to magazine editor Brock Yates, who continued to race it; and subsequently, it was sold to Wayne Carini, a classic car dealer who also hosts a cable TV show about classic cars.  It’s powered by a small-block Chevy V8.

Inside, a small brass plaque that certified this car at 104 mph in 1948, presented by the Southern California Timing Association.

Now, let’s hit the show.  What a beautiful setting: the lawns of the Hotel Hershey.

Spoiler alert!  If I could have just one of the cars on display, I think this one – the first I saw at the show – would be it.  It’s a 1964 Ferrari 250 GT Lusso, body by Pininfarina.  Before Ferraris became caricatures of silly things rich people buy, they had a simplicity of design, a modicum of practicality, and a ton of class.  They don’t get better than this.

The ergonomic nightmare of the Ferrari.  Speedo and tach right at the center of the dash, visible by no one; rows of unlabeled identical switches; a thin, slippery wood steering wheel.  Sure is pretty though.

It’s a beauty from every angle.  I personally love the large glass and thin pillars, which give it a graceful appearance from every side.

Remember when racing cars were this pretty?  It’s a 1952 Siata 300BC, with a body by Bertone.  Originally built as a racer (although it’s apparently street-legal), this one is powered by a 750 cc Crosley four-cylinder, and its early history includes racing at Watkins Glen.

A rare sports-racing beast: a 1955 Arnolt Bristol, also with a Bertone body.  The creation of Chicago sports car dealer Stanley Arnolt, about 150 of these were built between 1954 and 1959 in Illinois, using British running gear and Italian bodies.  Their racing success is largely attributable to the 2-liter Bristol six that powers it – an engine whose lineage dates back to the prewar BMW 328.

Only about half of all the 150 Arnolt Bristols ever built are known to survive.  This one is likely one of the best.

The best-looking of the ‘30s racing cars: a 1932 Alfa Romeo 8C 2300.  While this one is not terribly unusual, it’s got an interesting back story.  This was displayed at the Paris auto show in 1932 and was prominent in prewar European racing.  It was imported into this country in 1940, and continues to be used for long-distance tours.

The Alfa’s interior is so much better styled than that of most other race cars.  Note the wild animal print on the dashboard!

Here’s one that had me running for the reference materials.  The sign says it’s a 1938 Darracq Talbot-Lago T-150-C, with a body by Figoni & Falaschi.  If you think it resembles a Talbot-Lago – well, that’s right – the Darracq name was appended to cars that were intended for export.  This particular car, splendidly restored, was originally sold to Portuguese royalty, and is powered by a 4-liter six.

A subtle dorsal fin on the tail end of the Talbot-Lago!

Compared to the over-the-top exterior styling, the dash of the Talbot-Lago is remarkably restrained: body-color metal, subtle wood accents, and – note this – a British-made Wilson preselector transmission.

First-class restoration of a 1928 Auburn 8-115 roadster.  Auburn was at the low-priced end of its manufacturers’ brands (the others being Duesenberg and Cord) – but Auburns always combined fine performance with extravagant styling.  (For example, note the stylish Woodlite headlights).  This particular Auburn is a recent restoration of a car that had been in storage for about 70 years.

If you couldn’t guess this model, don’t feel too bad.  It’s a 1936 Lancia Astura cabriolet, with a body by Pininfarina.  One of 326 Astura models built, this one was a show car at the 1936 Milan Motor Show.  Very advanced for its day, it’s powered by a 3-liter overhead-cam V8 of 82 horsepower, and it features independent front suspension.

Bright trim, leather, and a profusion of gauges set this Lancia apart as a truly luxurious sports tourer.

The Lancia is set up to carry luggage on its rear deck – a little unusual.  This is truly a large car – it rides on a 131-inch wheelbase.

The first Duesenberg of the day.  One of about 450 J-series Duesenbergs, this one is an early model, a 1929.  In 1937, the coachbuilder Bohman and Schwartz rebodied this car with the convertible coupe body it wears today, and at the same time it was upgraded from a normally-aspirated J specification (265 horsepower) to supercharged SJ (320 horsepower).

The Duesenberg, larger than life.  Basic Duesenbergs, without any body, were sold by the factory for $15,000 or so, and bodywork added an additional $5,000 or more.  This is when concurrent Ford Model As sold for about $500 and were powered by 40-horsepower fours.

The car that won best-in-show, and was the star of my afternoon, too.  It’s a 1934 Packard 1106 twelve-cylinder Runabout Speedster, body by LeBaron.  In 1934, actress Carole Lombard purchased this car for her husband, Clark Gable.

A subtle LeBaron logo on a fender.  But when it was delivered, Gable didn’t think it was special enough, so he had a west-coast body builder, Bohman and Schwartz, add their own custom touches.

Custom touches?  Well, they included the elimination of running boards and the substitution of the teardrop-shaped step plates.  And the windshield was cut down further, and body lines were recrafted to make the hood appear longer and smoother.

The Packard’s interior – a very snug one at that – was special enough that it didn’t require any modification.  Red leather and burled wood – some things can’t be improved upon.

The boat-tail was part of the Packard’s original LeBaron design.

A lovely little detail on Gable’s Packard: the gas filler cap sports a cloisonné Packard-twelve logo.

Tearing myself away from Clark Gable’s car for now (and yes, I kept returning to it) – this is the last American wood-bodied station wagon, a 1953 Buick Roadmaster.  Starting in 1954, Buick – and all other American manufacturers – built all-steel station wagons, sometimes with fake-wood trim.  On this car, the wood is structural.  This station wagon is an all-original, 28,000-mile specimen.

One of just 82 built, this is a ’53 Allard J2X.  Allard had always mated lightweight British-made bodies with American power, and this is no exception: it’s powered by a Cadillac 331.

Like many sports-racers of the fifties, the Allard was street-legal, but only barely so.  It’s hard to imagine anyone driving an Allard as normal transportation.

Let’s pause for a moment and admire the strangeness that was the 1948 Davis, made even stranger as the headlight doors stand opened up.  Based loosely on a Kurtis three-wheel race car, the three-wheeled Davis was cobbled together in prototype form to attract the press and, ultimately, dealers who placed deposits on franchises.  Gary Davis raised more than $1 million this way and produced thirteen prototypes… and also failed to pay employees, suppliers, and payroll taxes.  He was prosecuted for fraud and the company quietly disappeared in 1949.  And this is one of the thirteen prototypes, nearly all of which survive today.

Davis sure didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about engines.  It’s powered by a 160 cubic inch, 63 horsepower Continental four.

Just a few feet ahead of the engine, you can see what makes a Davis different.  The single front wheel is supported by a strut which is connected to a crude steering linkage at its top.  Not visible here, the Davis featured built-in jacking at all three wheels.

The bare dashboard reminds you that this was a prototype and wasn’t the way Davis envisioned customers seeing it.  The Davis was planned to retail at $1,600, more or less Buick-type money.

And the Davis was rather a big car – a 110 inch wheelbase and about 190 inches overall.  Note the fiberglass removable hardtop, surely inspired by the then-current Studebaker.

A very handsome Packard, indeed – a 1932 model 734 Speedster Runabout.  Like many Packards of this era, it’s powered by a 385 cubic inch straight eight.

And it has the coolest seaplane radiator cap!

What makes this Packard so unique is its boat-tail body, just 25 of which were built in this model, and only a few survive.  This car is apparently the veteran of some long-distance classic car cruises, making its condition even more remarkable.

This is more than just a 1925 Springfield Rolls Royce Silver Ghost Piccadilly roadster, even though that would be pretty impressive in its own right.  When new, this car and its twin were purchased from the New York Rolls Royce showroom by Howard Hughes.  He kept this one and gave the other to actress Gloria Swanson.

Standard equipment on Rolls Royces of this era included a rather extensive tool roll.  Staring at this for a while, I can’t even imagine the purpose of some of these tools!

In the trunk… or, boot… of this Rolls Royce are the factory supplied fitted suitcases, with Howard Hughes’ monogram still present.

I’ve been at this show all afternoon and still haven’t photographed a Pierce Arrow?  My mistake.  This beauty is a very rare 1933 model 836 sports coupe.

A moment ago we saw the very last wooden Buick wagon.  Here’s the first: a 1940 Buick Super, with wooden body by Biehle.  (The major manufacturers just delivered bare chassis to body builders when they made their earliest station wagons.)  Its original owner was the Warner Brothers studio, which used this car in several movies – among them, the Bette Davis movie Now Voyager.  While it’s not well documented, it’s believed that this station wagon was later given to Bette Davis for her personal use – hence the license plate.

A 1940 Packard 160 limousine, body by Rollston.  Packard’s senior series was divided into two lines, the 160 and 180, by the late 1930s, after the V-12 was discontinued.  This limo was built on the “lesser” 160 platform, and it’s a rare example of the top-hat style, with its tall – and ungraceful – passenger compartment.  Reputedly, this car’s first owner was the Rockefeller family.

Do you remember the prewar touring car that figured prominently in the movie Sunset Boulevard?  That was an Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8A – as is this one.  It was in production from 1924 to 1931, and – not far different from a J Duesenberg – it was powered by an overhead-cam straight 8 of just over 7 liters.  Sources say that 950 were made and presumably few remain.  This one, a 1924 owned by a prominent New Jersey collector, had been retained by its manufacturer for chauffeur training, was placed in storage at the beginning of World War II and was just unearthed in 2016.

It’s a what?  An Alvis – specifically, a 1934 Speed 20 SB Sports Tourer.  A high-end performance car builder before the war, Alvis puttered along making a few cars after the war, before being acquired by Rover in the ‘60s.  This one is a rather luxurious and sporting example – with a 2.5 liter 87 horsepower straight six, independent front suspension, fully synchronized gearbox, and a long 124-inch wheelbase.  Note the 4-door convertible body, constructed by Cross & Ellis.

The Alvis’ interior just screams out “prewar British.”  It’s beautifully appointed and looks pretty comfortable.

Somewhat better known that the Alvis, but sharing some similarities – this is a 1936 SS Jaguar 100.  The SS name – an abbreviation for “Swallow Sidecars” – was dropped as the Hitler regime had a more sinister meaning for SS.  But the Jaguar was a beauty, and like the Alvis was powered by a 2.5 liter straight six.

This Jaguar received some modest customization when it was nearly new, including alligator skin upholstery with matching luggage.

Another inviting prewar British dashboard.  Note the counter-rotating tachometer.

While we’re on the subject of handsome, super-rare British touring cars… it’s a what???

A 1936 Brough Superior drophead coupe.  A what?  Brough Superior built a premium line of motorcycles from the 1920s to the outbreak of World War II.  (This is the motorcycle that Lawrence of Arabia preferred!)  In 1935, the company launched its first automobile, using a modified straight-8 Hudson engine and chassis.  Bodywork was created by independent companies (this one has a W. C. Atcherley body).  But soon after production began, Hudson backed out of the venture and Brough stopped building cars.

Different sources say that anywhere from 15 to 85 Brough Superior cars were built – but sources agree that three survive.  The superb restoration of this one highlights just how elegant this car was.

The 1951 Delahaye 135M cabriolet, body by Henri Chapron.  The Delahaye 135 – about the top end of anything ever built in France – actually dated back to the mid-1930s, but styling was freshened up after the war.  This is a 135 hp straight 8 with a very impressive prewar racing heritage.

Delahaye 135M production ended in 1954, and their postwar production was very limited – so this is almost the end of the line.  Incidentally, bodybuilder Henri Chapron was subsequently famous for creating the Citroen DS cabriolet.

The Delahaye’s extravagant interior – and another example of a preselector transmission.

How often do you get to see the Peerless logo?  Fun fact: Peerless went bankrupt in 1932, but its senior management got together the next year and bought the Detroit factory, turning it into the US producer of Carling beer.

That logo is attached to a 1929 Peerless 8-125 7-passenger sedan.  One of the “three P’s” of American luxury cars (along with Packard and Pierce Arrow), Peerless cars were made in smaller numbers than the others and seemingly few survive.  This top-of-the-line 1929 represents Peerless’ first use of an engine other than their own (it’s got a Continental straight-8), and it’s one of three reported to survive today.  This car is something of a movie and TV star: its first owner was Warner Brothers, and the car appeared in 1930s gangster movies.  Later, it was sold to Desilu Productions and was featured in The Untouchables TV show.

Two postwar Delahayes at the same show?  This one is a 1946 135M coupe, body by A. Guillore.  While I’ve seen a fair number of open Delahayes, this may be the only coupe I’ve ever seen.

Undeniably elegant – but before long, the Delahaye would look old-fashioned, and the company, near the end of its life, could not afford a replacement model.

1930 Rolls Royce New Phantom Torpedo Transformable Phaeton, body by Hibbard and Darrin.  That’s a mouthful: “New Phantom” was a short-lived model that replaced the Silver Ghost around 1926.  Transformable refers to the all-weather top – not very attractive – that this one wears.  The car was originally purchased by Paramount Pictures and was then transferred to actress Marlene Dietrich.

Sometimes the engine is more interesting than the car.  This is a V-16 in an early-30s Cadillac.  One of only two US manufacturers of V16s (the other one is coming up shortly), the Cadillac engine is reputed to be the first one that was actually “styled.”  For your substantial investment (and an 8 mpg fuel thirst), you got an incredibly smooth powerplant and an aesthetic delight with extensive porcelain coating under the hood.

How about another Duesenberg J?  This one’s a 1929, which began life as a New York auto show car.  It’s notable for the unusual and bright color scheme (pretty rare among Duesenbergs), and also for the only instance in which body builder Fleetwood built a Duesenberg.

A real crowd-pleaser: a 1929 Cord L-29 cabriolet.  One of only about 1,200 drop-top L-29s, the front drive allowed Cord to build a much lower car, which works well with the sharp convertible styling.

Don’t recognize the logo?  It’s a Locomobile!

Specifically, a 1925 Locomobile 48 convertible sedan.  Locomobile was another maker at the top of the American luxury market, but after 30 years in business, Locomobile shut its doors in 1929.

The big, elegant Locomobile was originally purchased by Edward Stotesbury, a one-time business partner of J. P. Morgan.  The car was kept at his Philadelphia estate.

For all the Trans Am owners who thought they had the ultimate Screaming Chicken on their hoods…  this Locomobile has you beat.

Moving postwar again – a promising deck lid, featuring super-light (“superleggera”) bodywork styled by Touring of Milan.

It’s a 1950 Ferrari 166 Inter coupe, basically the first roadgoing Ferrari.  It’s the street car version of the racing 166MM, and only 38 166 Inters were built.  It’s powered by a 2-liter V12 of 110 horsepower, coupled to a 5-speed.  (Note, think about how small cylinders have to be in a 12-cylinder of only 122 cubic inches!)

For Ferrari, road cars and their amenities were an afterthought.  But bodybuilder Touring created a simple and elegant interior.

And right next to it: a 1951 Ferrari 212 Export Spyder, body by Fontana.  The 212 utilized a bored-out version of the 166’s V12, all the way up to 2.6 liters.

This Spyder was certainly intended for road racing, not conventional street use.  Of the seven 212 Spyders that were built, this one is the only one to wear a Fontana body.

One that you don’t see every day: a fully functional Virgil Exner styling study, the 1960 Plymouth XNR, the only one built.  Its all-steel body was built in Italy by Ghia, based on the Valiant unit body platform, but cut down to an overall height of 43 inches.  At one time, this car was in the private collection of the Shah of Iran.  And the name “XNR” – it’s a tribute to Virgil Exner.

Odd for a one-off show car: everything you see is unique to this car, not borrowed from some production model.  Except for one thing: the Plymouth script!

Ironic for a space-age vision like this: it’s powered by a modified Valiant 170-cubic-inch slant six, but modified to the tune of 250 hp.  When it was new, it was clocked at Chrysler’s proving grounds at 152 mph.

OK, I’ve seen these before (maybe even this one), but they’re always a pleasure to see.  It’s a 1958 Dual-Ghia, one of 100 convertible Dual-Ghias made between 1956 and 1958, powered by a 325 cubic inch Dodge hemi.  This was the “it” car of 1950s celebrities, but the provenance of this particular car was not revealed.

Funny, but inside the Dual-Ghia (which was priced like a Rolls Royce), all of the hardware was off-the-shelf Chrysler!

Another logo you don’t see often: it belongs to a 1913 Simplex 50 hp tourer, body by Quinby and Company.  The Simplex was owned and shown by a prominent Connecticut car restoration firm.

The enormous chain-drive Simplex is a rare reminder of  a company once called the “Rolls Royce of America.”  The last Simplex was made in 1920, following a merger with Crane.  Fun fact: when this Simplex was made, Simplex built its cars in New York City, with factory facilities on the East River at East 83^rd Street.

A nice fun-looking car: 1930 Willys-Knight 66B roadster, body by Griswold.  Willys was the largest licensee of Knight sleeve-valve engines, which used a rotating sleeve in each cylinder, with appropriate ports in lieu of valves.  At the time, valves were noisy and needed frequent adjustment and care – the sleeve valve engines were quiet and reliable.  They also admitted a lot of oil into the combustion chambers (watch for oil smoke!), and as inexpensive valve gear became common, the Knight engine was phased out.

I don’t think this was officially on display, but it was fun to see anyway.  It’s apparently a late-1920s senior-series Packard 8 that was cut down to become a speedster, perhaps for racing.  Its owner is a north Jersey car dealer and notable Packard collector.

Okay, just one more Duesenberg.  This one, a 1931 J, is owned by a prominent Utica collector.  It sports a Rollston convertible Victoria body, meaning it has a top that goes down and a full back seat.  But unlike most convertible Victorias, this one has full rear side windows.

The unmistakable appearance of a 1929 Bentley 4 ½ liter LeMans Tourer, body by Harrison.

A logo you never see – the Ruxton, a car that made it to prototype phase, but never beyond that.  I’ve seen this car before, but it’s worth seeing again.

Ruxton’s key innovation was front wheel drive, announced very shortly before Cord launched its L-29 in 1929.  But Cord made it to the market first, and the promoters of Ruxton were prosecuted for securities fraud.  About 90 prototypes were built, and most are still accounted for.  This one was completed years after the company’s bankruptcy and is therefore titled as a 1932.

1960 Bentley Continental S2 convertible, among the first of the V8 Bentleys.  (The S1 was a straight six.)  This magnificent restoration is owned by a prominent New Jersey vendor of restoration supplies.  Its original owner was a Beverly Hills attorney, who then sold it to actress Jayne Mansfield.

A wood-and-leather interior inviting enough to live in.

Now, let’s get really old.  Here’s a 1906 National E 50/60 Tourer, originally owned by a promoter associated with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.  National was a smaller, Indiana-based manufacturer, which faded away around 1920 and disappeared finally in 1924.  The Model E, shown here, was their premier offering, with a sticker price of $4,000 (equivalent to more than $100,000 today), and featured a 477 cubic inch four-cylinder.  (Fun Fact: the displacement of one of the National’s cylinders is greater than that of all 12 of the Ferrari 166’s cylinders!)

Now that’s what I call a spotlight.  And remember, this is gas-powered, not electric.

Behind the National, antique luggage secured with a 111-year-old rope.

The other V-16: the 1931 Marmon Sixteen convertible coupe, body by LeBaron.  This is among the first Marmons to be powered by a sixteen (they were made from 1931 to 1935), but in that five-year period, only 390 were made.  But what an engine: a narrow-angle all-alloy V16, it produced 200 horsepower from 491 cubic inches, and was reputedly lighter than most straight-eights.

The subtle “Marmon Sixteen” hubcap.  So what became of Marmon? They left auto manufacturing in 1935 and switched to heavy commercial vehicles and four-wheel-drive conversions for light trucks, under the name Marmon-Herrington.  After a number of changes in ownership, the remaining parts of the company are now owned by Berkshire Hathaway.

A 1934 Bugatti Type 57 convertible, body by Gangloff, largely original and unrestored.  According to its owner, this car was hidden away in a barn for the duration of World War II, and was subsequently unearthed and sold to a CIA agent who was serving in Europe just after the war.

So seldom seen: it’s a 1958 AC Bristol Ace.  If it looks familiar, this is the car on which the Cobra is based.  And it’s completely original and unrestored.

Under the AC’s hood – that’s a two-liter Bristol six, a copy of the prewar BMW six.  And it’s exactly the same engine that powers the Arnolt-Bristol we saw on entering the show.

And speaking of unrestored ACs: this is an original Cobra, a 1964, that the first owner had fitted out for touring: radio, luggage rack, driving lights, wire wheels.  Unlike later Cobras, this was someone’s weekend driver, not a race car.  And the original driver drove it regularly for about 40 years before storing it – and it just emerged from storage.

Here’s the oldest car in the show – a 1904 Pope Toledo V Rear Entrance Tonneau.  Pope was originally a bicycle manufacturer, but entered into the auto business – gas and electric – and would continue to make cars until 1909.

They called this era of autos “brass era” for a good reason – look at that headlight.

This Pope Toledo had been in the Harrah collection for years, and its current owner started with a good, but non-running, example.  280 Pope Toledos were made in 1904, and this is the only known survivor.  By the way, the “jackets” on the tires are not factory equipment!  The tires fitted to the car, in correct style, are all white and get dirty very quickly!

And this is why they call it a “rear entrance” tonneau.  It’s powered by a 14-horsepower twin.

What the Pope-Toledo lacks in amenities, it makes up for with a big horn!

Two of the most appealing convertible Packards: foreground, a 1940 Super Eight Darrin convertible coupe; and rear, a 1937 120 Eight convertible coupe.  They were shown by the same owner, the collector who displayed the cut-down 1920s Packard Speedster earlier.

But let’s get a closer look at that 1937 convertible.  That is no American body!  It’s lower; it has chromed landau irons on the convertible top; and the inset spare tire is seldom if ever seen on an American body.  As it turns out, this was a Swiss Graber body, and – very unusually – it was created on a “junior” 120 chassis, rather than the larger 160 or 180 series.

The subtle and handsome treatment of the Graber body extends to the interior, too.

Now this requires some explanation.  An underground train passage between the Capital and the Senate Office Building was completed in 1908.  The federal government contracted to have two 12-passenger electric vehicles built that would traverse the 760-foot-long tunnel continuously through the day.  Studebaker won the bid and the resultant vehicle was called the ”To and Fro Carryall.”

And it carries a Studebaker data plate, too.  The vehicles were in use until 1912 on a daily basis, and on an occasional basis until 1916.  They were sold at auction in 1939 for $35 apiece.  And both survive today.

It was unnecessary to turn the vehicles around.  They were pretty symmetrical and there was an operator position on both sides, so when it reached its destination, the operator changed seats and backed up to the other end of the tunnel.

A local car comes home.  The Pullman was built from 1905 to 1917 in nearby York, PA.  This one, a 1908, is the oldest one known to survive of about 20,000 built in thirteen years.

When driving a Pullman, it’s important to be reminded – what’s the brake, what’s the clutch?

One more Lancia – this one,  a super-rare 1934 Lancia Belna, the only one I’ve ever seen.   The Belna was French-made – the first and only time a Lancia was built outside Italy.  A few thousand Belnas were built in France between 1933 and 1936, a handful of which were provided as bare chassis to outside body builders, like this one.

Here’s what makes this particular Lancia so significant.  The “Eclipse” body, built by Pourtout, is a retractable hardtop, with a steel top disappearing into the car’s trunk.  Unlike some other Pourtout bodies, such as ones built on Peugeot chassis, this one has a top raised and lowered by pulleys and counterweights, rather than an electric motor.

A Porsche 911?  No, it’s not!  This is a 1963 901 – and the 911 didn’t appear until the 1966 model year.  Just a few 901 prototypes were built and fewer survive.  This one showed up in a New York salvage yard in the 1980s and a brave Porsche restorer recognized that this was no ordinary Porsche.  It took some time for the Porsche factory to admit that this was, in fact, a 901, but they were instrumental in enabling the owner to complete this first-class restoration.  What’s the difference between this and a 911?  Lots of small details that were changed when 911s entered production (most notably, barely visible here, is a sunroof that opens back-to-front!).  And plenty of small parts that were plainly borrowed from the 356 parts bin.

Hershey put on a wonderful show this year!  I’m looking forward to making this a regular event on my calendar.

Welcome to the 2017 car show season!  As usual, we begin in lovely Greenwich, Connecticut for the Greenwich Concours.  This annual event is a fundraiser for Americares, an emergency relief charity.  Thanks to its Fairfield County location, it always generates a lot of interest from wealthy car collectors – and this year did not disappoint!  So let’s see what the event has in store…

As we enter the show grounds, we’re greeted by a 1951 Hudson Hornet.  It seems likely that this is a replica – but a fairly faithful one – of the Hudsons that dominated NASCAR in its earliest years.  Hudson Hornets won 27 of 34 NASCAR Grand National races in 1952, with cars that were just about street-legal.  Try that today!  And incredibly, they did it all with a 308 cubic inch straight six.  The “Twin H Power” emblazoned on the car’s hood refers to a factory-approved dual carburetor setup, which was a dealer-installed option back in the day.

It seems that more Chrysler Town & Country convertibles survive than sedans, although they were built in similar numbers.  This 1947 sedan might be the nicest T&C sedan I’ve ever seen, with immaculate body and paint work, glowing wood, and all of the right accessories (look at that wooden roof rack!).

The Town & Country is always a complex and expensive car to restore, and this one was done to a high standard.  Note all the factory inspection marks that were recreated when the restoration was done.  Somewhere down there is a 323 cubic inch straight 8, rated at 135 horsepower, coupled with a semi-automatic Fluid Drive.

Fifties Chrysler products have a special place in my heart.  So it’s a very special treat for me to see this magnificent restoration of a ’56 New Yorker convertible.  Note the real Kelsey-Hayes wire wheels, a factory option.

Right next to it, almost the same car but three years older – a ’53 New Yorker convertible.  While the ’56 exhibited the wide, low, finned style of the mid- to late-50s, the ’53 was among the last of the stodgy, upright style mandated by then-President K. T. Keller.  A man should be able to wear a hat while driving a car, Keller is reputed to have said.  The red paint mitigates the stodginess of this one, however.

By 1954, Packard was on the ropes, desperately seeking a corporate savior (which it found in the form of Studebaker, a mixed blessing).  In the luxury car market, they were the sole holdout making flathead straight-8 engines, while desperately trying to develop their own high-compression OHV V8.  They did make such an engine, but not until 1955.  So this beautiful 1954 Caribbean convertible was the last of its kind – one of only 400 Caribbeans produced that year.

This is the second of the letter-series Chrysler 300s – a 1956 300B.  (The first Chrysler letter car was not the “300A,” as you might assume, but the C-300.  The alphabetic suffix began in 1956.)  This beauty was one of about 1,100 made, making the 300B one of the lowest-production of the letter series cars.  And note the scoop on the back fender – this was an air-conditioned 300B, which must have been very rare indeed.

Saturday in Greenwich is American car day, but don’t tell the vendors that.  One particular vendor showed a matched pair of British racing green Aston Martins from the mid-sixties: DB-5 convertible in foreground, DB-6 convertible to the rear.  Where else but Greenwich?

A special class this year was reserved for cars that competed in the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash in the ‘70s.  Later satirized by the movie Cannonball Run, the Dash, sponsored by Car & Driver Magazine, was simple in format: drive from New York to Los Angeles in the shortest possible time on public roads.  The winners typically did this in 35 hours or less.  The three participants shown here: a Ferrari 365 Daytona coupe; a Dodge Challenger; and a specially-prepped Dodge van, made up to appear to be an ambulance (clever, huh).

On the last Cannonball Baker iteration, someone entered this BMW 5-Series sedan, with markings intended to imply that this was a German police car.  It’s hard to believe anyone fell for that.

This was a more compelling recreation.  Back in 1963, Ford made a name for itself competing in international rallying with the newly introduced Falcon Sprint – a fastback Falcon coupe with the brand-new 260 V8.  This was a faithful recreation of a car that had competed in the Geneva rally in 1963.

A spectacular restoration of a 1909 Pierce Model 36UU 5-passenger tourer.  This car had lived for years on a farm and had been converted into a truck at one point, making this beautiful restoration even more remarkable.  Of the five Model 36UUs known to exist, this is the sole survivor of this body type.

Under the hood of the Pierce – it’s a 347 cubic inch six, good for a rollicking 36 horsepower.  Look carefully and you can see the engine block cast in three sets of two cylinders each.

Jay Gatsby would be proud.  It’s a 1927 Rolls Royce Phantom I Playboy.  But on American car day?  Yes – this one was built in Springfield, Mass.  Rolls Royces were manufactured here from 1921 to 1934 – the only place other than England in which Rolls Royces have been manufactured.

Almost the identical car, but wearing phaeton bodywork.  This one is among the first to be built in Springfield – it’s a 1921.

I was so taken with this car.  Sitting in the shadow cast by its larger neighbors, significantly smaller than the concurrent Model T, this is a 1909 Metz, one of a few hundred such cars built in Waltham, Massachusetts between 1909 and 1922.  This one had been owned by the late collector Malcom Pray, and is currently owned by a foundation his estate established.

To keep the price low – around $400 when it was new – the Metz was sold as a kit, to be assembled by its buyer. (Fully-assembled models were available at a higher price.)  Fun fact – this is one of a handful of cars that used friction drive instead of a transmission.  Two wheels perpendicular to one another transferred the engine power to the drive axle, and the equivalent of “gearing” was accomplished by changing the point on the driven wheel’s radius at which the two wheels touched.  It’s simple and provides, in theory, an infinite number of gear ratios.  But power loss was significant and its efficiency left a lot to be desired.

Studebaker, with its limited resources, kept a classic car – the ’53 Starlight coupe – in production far longer than anyone imagined.  This one is a ’61 Hawk, the last of this body style.   It had been freshened up in the mid-‘50s with a squared-off grille, and by ’61, it had sprouted fins – but yes, it’s the same Starlight coupe!

And, as a case in point, here’s a prize-winning ’56 Golden Hawk – squared-off grille, no fins, and a distinctly 1950s yellow-and-black two-tone.

While I’m not a huge fan of custom cars, I have to admit that this ’63 Thunderbird, customized by Rick Dore, looked right to me.  The picture doesn’t do justice to the fabulous orange paint.

Old school.  Apparently a ’27 Model T body, but the star attraction was a fifties Olds V8 with triple carburetors.  Olds actually made a factory triple-deuce version called the J2 – but this isn’t it.  This one uses an aftermarket intake manifold.

This is the full treatment for Ford hot rods.  The car is a ’32 roadster, but that engine: it’s a flathead Ford with Ardun overhead valve conversion and an Italian supercharger… and a ton of chrome.  Funny thing about the Ardun conversion – the designer of this marvelous toy was the legendary Zora Arkus-Duntov (hence the name ArDun), the engineer behind the Corvette Sting Ray, among other things.

More Old School.  It’s a ’34 Ford convertible, but powered by an early Cadillac OHV V8, sporting sidedraft carburetors!

I had seen this car at Saratoga last fall, but got a closer view of it at Greenwich.  From the outside it’s a just-about-stock 1935 Ford Deluxe 3-window coupe.  It’s nicely restored, and from the outside, the only indication of modification is a set of wheels and tires that appear slightly oversized.

Ah, but under the hood!  A whole other story.  The factory flathead was bored out and modified for better breathing.  It received a set of high-compression cylinder heads, a supercharger, dual carbs, better cooling, and a full-flow oil filter… all without drilling or cutting the factory body.  The owner engineered this hot rod with the point of view of a returning GI in 1945: every part that was used was an authentic late-40s part.  This is what a fastidious hot rodder of the time would have built.

Say it ain’t so!  Did someone chop up one of the 51 Tucker 48s and hot rod it, with modern paint and big alloy wheels?

Thankfully, no.  Some years back, a New Jersey company called Ida Automotive embarked on creating an authentic-looking, updated Tucker.  Armed with precise body measurements, they created a plastic-and-metal replica body (good enough to fool me!), and powered it with a rear-mounted Cadillac Northstar.  News articles suggest that about five of these were built, the prelude to some larger production that never happened.

This handsome roadster is called the Ford Roeder, named for the individual who built it, based on a modified 1934 Ford chassis, in the late 1940s.  Freshly restored, it remains sharp looking and shows the craftsmanship of its builder.

One more hot rod.  This one – another Model T body, this time with a Ford flathead converted to overhead valves – was built by one of the heroes of the hot rod world, Ed Iskendarian, who later marketed a line of speed equipment.

On the way over to the auction tent, we ran across this oddity.  It’s quite well known that Ghia modified a few hundred Fiat 600s in the late 50s with cut-down bodies, fringe tops, and wicker seats, calling the resultant vehicle the Fiat Jolly (and they’re all now worth a fortune).  But wait – this isn’t a Fiat – so what gives?  Well, it seems that in 1960, Ghia offered the same opportunity to Renault, and legend has it that 50 of these – called, I think, the Beach Wagon – were built on the then-current rear-engine 4CV platform.  This is the only one of its kind I’ve ever seen.

Now, to the auction tent.  Right by the front door, a supercharged 1932 Bugatti Type 49.

Under the Bugatti’s hood, eight cylinders and 16 spark plugs – a completely redundant ignition system.  This Bugatti, with convertible coachwork by Labourdette, found a new owner at Greenwich for $676,000.

It’s not the prettiest, fastest, or rarest of the Ferraris, but I’ve always liked this one. It’s a 1970 365GT 2+2.  Equipped with the same engine as the Daytona, it wears a Pininfarina 4-seat coupe body, and it’s about as large as a Greyhound bus, or so it seems.

The diametric opposite of the Ferrari.  It’s a 1905 Rambler Model 1 five-passenger surrey.  Among the first cars to wear the Rambler name, it’s powered by a 235 cubic inch flat-twin engine (those are a couple of big cylinders!), producing all of 18 horsepower.  A first-class restoration, this one sold at auction for about $70,000; apparently the market for cars that really can’t be driven is limited.

A little Rambler detail: this one was equipped with a two-speed planetary transmission, and the gears were engaged by the driver stepping on the appropriate pedals.  This is a close-up of the brass plate that identified which pedal engages which gear.

It looks so at home next to Greenwich harbor.  This is a 1932 Cord L29 convertible, among the last of the L29 models.  The L29 has the distinction of being the first American production front-drive car (the Ruxton was announced earlier, but never really made it into production).  After Cord’s demise in the mid-30s, it took another 30 years for an American automaker to venture into front-drive – and that was Oldsmobile’s Toronado.

Lining up for the awards celebration, here’s a rare one – a 1934 Chrysler Imperial Airflow.  1934 was the debut year for the Airflow, a design that Chrysler and DeSoto badges shared.  And what a design: all steel unit bodies; engine and passengers moved rearward, for a near perfect 50-50 weight distribution; a floor toward the bottom of the car’s frame, for a lower center of gravity; and numerous refinements to help survive crashes.  And, of course, a level of aerodynamics that was utterly foreign to any other carmaker.  The idea flopped spectacularly, as customers shunned the odd-looking Airflow, and by 1937, all of Chrysler was building conventionally-designed cars again.  This one is among the rarest Airflows – the two-door variant was least popular, and the Imperial like this one, on its own 128-inch wheelbase, was the most expensive.

And finally… there are plenty of low-end thirties station wagons, ones that were work vehicles and commercial vehicles.  But how about the highest end of wood-bodied station wagons?  They’re far rarer – as an example, this 1934 Packard model 1101.  The “eleventh series” Packard was introduced in the early ‘30s and was powered by a 120 horsepower, 320 cubic inch straight eight.  Without a doubt, this one was never intended to be a work vehicle.

Back soon with more from the classic car show circuit!

Can you imagine a nicer place to spend a sunny October Sunday afternoon than at a robber baron’s mansion overlooking the Hudson?  This magnificent pile of rocks was the setting for the Mills Mansion Old Car Gathering, a traditional Hudson Valley way to mark the end of a car show season.  The mansion, named for financier Ogden Mills, was built in 1895 and given to the state of New York as a historical site in the 1930s.  The mansion, designed by McKim, Mead and White, consists of 65 rooms and 14 baths and sits on 192 acres.  As the old expression goes, rich or poor, it’s good to have money.  More about that yellow Dodge later on.

What a gathering!  As far as the eye can see, collector cars, trucks, fire equipment, military vehicles, almost anything that rolls.  I’d guess that there were more than a thousand vehicles present, although the Hudson Valley’s hot rod clubs probably predominated.  But there was plenty for everyone to look at, even if I’m not a huge hot rod fan (but there were a few exceptions in the pictures that follow).

These two caught my eye immediately after entering: foreground, an early-70s Avanti – considerably post-Studebaker, but still pretty true to its origins.  Background, one of my favorites: a Mercedes 190 SL.  This light-green SL was a 1956, just the second year of production in a nine-year run.  The car is a 45,000 mile original, other than replacement leather seat covers, and it’s still its owner’s preferred good-weather weekend driver.  With 190 SL prices rushing past $100,000, it’s heartening to see one that is still used as a car, not as a museum piece or investment.

Too perfect.  Ford introduced the Ranchero in 1957 as a utility pickup – and as a result, most were beaten to death after a few years.  This one – a 1959 with a show-quality restoration, 352 V8, and aftermarket under-dash air conditioning, is probably way better than it was when originally built.  After this one was made, Ford ended the full-size Ranchero, replacing it with a compact Falcon Ranchero in 1960, and then going to a midsize platform in 1966 through the model’s end in the late 70s.

Two Franklins – foreground, a 1929 roadster, and background, a 1931 model 153 Dietrich speedster.  It’s always a treat to see one of these air-cooled gems, much less two.

How cool is that?  The “radiator cap” of the 1929 (but, of course, being air cooled, it isn’t a radiator cap at all!).  My guess is, this was a period aftermarket accessory, not a Franklin part.

The Dietrich-bodied 1931 Franklin.  Franklin, like many other premium manufacturers, could not withstand the Great Depression.  After making a record-breaking 14,000 cars in 1929, production fell to about 1,100 in 1931, and by 1934, the Syracuse-based manufacturer was gone.

What a face!  While I’ve seen a few of these before, they’re always so much fun to see!  This is a 1934 Brewster Town Car.  There’s a great story about the Brewster car.  Brewster was a custom carriage builder, founded in Queens in the early 19^th century.  By the 1920s, Brewster was the exclusive custom body builder serving American Rolls Royce.  But then, around 1932, Rolls Royce closed its US operation (in Springfield, Massachusetts, which is why you sometimes hear about the “Springfield Rolls.”).  A Rolls Royce US employee, J. S. Inskip, took over Brewster and set out to build a less-ostentatious custom built car on Ford (and, in a few cases, Buick) chassis.  Between 1934 and 1936, he produced roughly 150 custom town cars, sedans, and convertibles, but the market was not kind to a $3,500 Ford, when real 1934 Fords typically cost $600 to $800.  The Brewster company folded in 1936, and J. S. Inskip went on to become an importer and dealer; the dealership that still bears his name, in Rhode Island, is owned by Penske.

Under the Brewster’s exotic looking hood, there lies a plain ol’ 221 cubic inch Ford flathead 8.

Same story inside: your chauffeur would be looking at a dashboard that could easily have come from a Ford sedan.

A tribute to citrus fruit.  This wild coupe is a 1955 Studebaker Speedster, painted in factory-original Hialeah Green and Sun Valley Yellow.  This was the top of the Studebaker line, priced at $3,500 (an $800 premium over the comparable President coupe).  For this princely sum, the Speedster buyer was treated to a whole list of standard equipment features and a 259 cubic inch V8.  Only about 2,200 Speedsters were made, and only in the 1955 model year.

Inside this clean, well-presented Speedster: full instruments including a 160 mph speedometer and a tach.  Not shown – beautiful hand-stitched leather, also standard on this model.

Ford woodies are reasonably common, but Plymouths? Not so much.  This one is a very presentable, driver-quality 1936.

A very telling plaque under the Plymouth’s hood: these wagons were a product of Plymouth’s short-lived truck division and not a passenger car at all!

Nicely restored and attractive, this 1946 Chrysler Saratoga coupe was equipped with just about everything you could buy on a Chrysler: straight-8 engine, Fluid Drive, fog lights, mirrors, and spotlights.

I told you I’d get back to this.  Parked close to the mansion, this beauty is a 1966 Dodge Charger, a car I loved in my (distant) youth.  Related to the midsize Coronet, the Charger incorporated a ton of luxury features, like a fastback roof with fold-down seats and hidden headlights.  This one is a 383 with an automatic.

My favorite part: four bucket seats and a full-length console.

57 years ago, almost to the day, a Carl Jessen of Poughkeepsie visited his local Cadillac dealer and traded his obsolete 1958 Caddy for a nicely equipped 1959 Model 62, which listed for almost $6,000, as delivered.  It included some significant optional equipment, like a radio, heater, and whitewall tires!  (Have you ever seen a fifties Cadillac without them?)

And here’s the Cadillac he bought, fresh from a restoration.  On a dollars-per-pound basis, it was probably priced like hamburger.

Now that’s an air cleaner!  Under that huge gold bat wing sits two 4-barrel carburetors.  That’s a 270 horsepower 331 V8 in a recently-restored 1955 Cadillac Eldorado.

In 1955, the Eldorado was the top of the Cadillac line (other than the extended-wheelbase limousines).  The Harley Earl-designed Eldorado – available only as a convertible that year – sold just under 4,000 units in 1955.

The Eldorado shows off all the luxuries money could buy in 1955: power accessories, an automatic headlight dimmer, 4-speed automatic… and, on the floor, a period aftermarket record player!

The Eldorado shows off the Harley Earl magic: the first illustration of the tail fin growth that reached its summit around 1960.

 

Among the last of the original Continentals, this one is a 1947, pretty much a continuation of the prewar car.  A good restoration with a wild two-tone paint scheme, this huge coupe has avoided the modifications that afflict so many first-generation Continentals.

And principally, I’m thinking about the Continental’s engine.  Ford stuck with its flathead engines right up to 1953, including this 400-plus cubic inch V12.  It was obsolete by 1949, as GM introduced the modern high-compression V8.  The 12 had a tendency to overheat, burn oil, and use insane amounts of fuel.  By the early 50s, many of these majestic Continentals were converted to GM engines and automatic transmissions (which Ford also did not offer for several more years) – so it’s a pleasure to see a pristine one of these.

As I said earlier, I’m not a big fan of hot rods, but this one caught my eye.  The body and chassis apparently started as a 1929 Plymouth roadster.  But look at that engine – it’s a late-50s Chrysler FirePower hemi.

Something odd in this hot rod’s minimalist interior: look at the center of the dashboard – that’s the push-button automatic transmission controls from an early TorqueFlite!

Not that unusual, but this 1937 Buick Century convertible presents very well – a good restoration in a nice color combination.  The Century was a car ahead of its time: a combination of the light, short-wheelbase Buick Special platform with the 320 cubic inch, 165 horsepower Roadmaster straight eight.  Think of it as a 1930s GTO.

Something you don’t see every day – a matched pair of nearly show-quality 1941 Hudsons.

Something else that’s a little rare in the US – a 1966 Austin Mini Moke.  Originally sold as a light utility vehicle, or perhaps an agricultural vehicle, the Mini Moke’s tiny size, lack of ground clearance, and two-wheel drive made it a questionable utility vehicle.  In about five years of production, only about 14,000 were built (although it lived on in the Australian market for a while later), and many were used as island resort vehicles – and very few found their way to the US.  This one is powered by the 850cc Austin “A” engine, related to Mini sedans and early Austin Healey Sprites.

Marcos???

Marcos made sports cars in the UK from the early 60s through the 1970s (and it was revived periodically a few times after that).  What made them unique was a fiberglass coupe body, installed over a plywood (!!) platform.  This is an example of the only Marcos imported to the US, in 1970-71, powered by a 3 liter straight-six Volvo.  (Other Marcos cars used Volvo, Triumph, and Ford power.)

The Marcos was priced like a lower-line Porsche, but without the style, performance, dealer network, or comfort of a Porsche.  A handful were sold before Marcos – saddled with the costs of entering the US market – ran out of money.

Just my opinion, but other than the school-bus-yellow paint job, I think this is just about perfect.  It’s a 1959 Ferrari 250GTE, body by Pinninfarina.  This is powered by one of the smallest roadgoing Ferrari V12s: just 3 liters.

Hard to remember, but high-end GTs were once pretty stark.  No power steering, no power windows, no wood paneling… just four seats and a standard shift.

This isn’t the way MG built it…  back in 1953, the MG-TD was powered by a 1250 cc four, producing perhaps 55 horsepower.  But a number of companies offered a bolt-on supercharger kit, belt driven off the crank pulley, that boosted output by about 50%.  This is just such an example – seemingly modified back when the car was new.

And there’s the 1953 MG-TD that houses the supercharger – a very nice example indeed.

This is heavy nostalgia for me – a good condition, driver-quality 1972 Citroen DS-21.

Poor Packard. The finest of the luxury cars before World War II, it had been left behind in the 50s, as GM, Ford, and Chrysler introduced wave upon wave of attractive luxury cars powered by modern high-compression V8s.  Scraping together all the investment a failing company could muster, Packard bet it all on their 1955 line, with an in-house-developed V8, a revised Ultramatic automatic transmission, and thoroughly modern styling.  This Caribbean convertible was the top of the 1955 line.

At $6,000, this one went head-to-head with Cadillac’s Eldorado and the first Chrysler 300s.  But the handwriting was on the wall – by 1956, Studebaker and Packard merged, Packard’s production lines were shut down, and the final two years of Packards were rebadged Studebakers.  This ’55 is a monument to the last of the great Packards.

And speaking of great Packards: do you notice something a little odd about this handsome 1934 Packard 1101?  The paint color could not possibly be right and the wheels and tires appear to be a little wide.  What’s up?

Heresy!  As far as I know, Packard never sold a car in 1934 powered by a Chevrolet 502 crate motor, with air conditioning and automatic!  Forget what you read on the valve covers – this is not a Packard engine!

I can’t resist a nice Edsel.  This one is a top-of-the-line Citation convertible, from the first model year (1958).

This has always been my favorite Edsel feature – automatic transmission selector buttons in the steering wheel hub.  Unfortunately, it was also the source of plenty of reliability issues.

A 475?  No…  Edsel named its engines for peak torque, not displacement.  The engine is actually a 410, rated at 345 horsepower.  Lesser Edsels used a 361 V8.

More nostalgia.  Volvo 122s are known for their simplicity, ruggedness, light weight, and pretty good performance.  This one is a 1964, and unusually, it’s completely rust-free.

And finally…  I never really understood the concept of “rat rod” – the rattiest chassis and body imaginable, no paint or chrome, and a big ol’ engine.  But here were a couple of guys out enjoying the rattiest of rat rods.  I understand that the body, such as it is, was most of a Toyota pickup cab.  The chassis is… who knows.  And power is provided by a loud, modified small-block Chevy – note the passenger’s ear protection.  OK, not my cup of tea, but they seem to be having lots of fun.

And so ends the 2016 car show season!  I hope you’ve enjoyed it nearly as much as I have.  Stay tuned for next season!

 

 

A beautiful sunny day in Saratoga Springs – perfect for one of my favorite car shows.  The Hemmings people are among the best at finding exceptional show cars.

Each year, one of the Hemmings vehicles is right at the entrance – and this year, it’s a 1934 (roughly) Dodge van, expertly restored

Technically not part of the show, a vendor was displaying a nice, driver-quality Saab 96, probably early-60s vintage.  Back in the day, this was considered a “sports sedan.” My, how times have changed!  It’s a two-stroke inline three of about 50 cubic inches, producing about 38 horsepower, and featuring a column-shifted four-speed.  Not exactly what you’d call “sports sedan” today.

One of the special classes this year was restored military vehicles.  It’s great fun to see just how crude and basic the first Jeeps were.  This one is a 1942 Ford-built Jeep (both Ford and WIllys built Jeeps in World War II, and the products were identical.

Barry’s rule of car shows – if I see something I never saw before, it’s a great car show.  Here’s one that qualifies: a 1950 Crosley Farm-O-Road.  Crosley – better known for their line of tiny, cheap sedans and wagons, introduced their agricultural / industrial product called Farm-O-Road in 1950.  Intended for any sort of utility use on a farm, it was also street legal and could – sort of – serve as a mini-pickup, although its 500 pound payload capacity was not terribly useful.

Four wheel drive?  It depends on what you mean by that.  It’s a conventional rear drive, but the rear wheels are duallies.  On 12-inch rims, no less.  This one wasn’t equipped with any of the optional accessories, like a plow and a power take off.

But the quality of the restoration was superb.  This was one of about 600 made between 1950 and the company’s demise in 1952.

Who knew that Essex made a pickup truck?  Essex, a division of Hudson, was better known for its mid-priced cars, and this attractive truck seems very out of character.  Featured in a Hemmings publication several years ago, this was apparently a one-of-a-kind truck, built for Essex by bodybuilder Briggs.

A beautiful restoration of a fairly rare 1967 Ford Ranchero, although I could quibble about the aftermarket wheels and the raised-white-letter tires.

Here’s part of what makes this Ranchero so rare.  It’s a factory 390-four speed.

Yes, Plymouth really made trucks.  Not many of them and not for long, but there are a few.  Most Plymouth trucks were built from 1937 to 1941 (not counting a few more recent rebadged Dodges, like the Plymouth Trail Duster).  This one is a 1939 PT-81, with a restoration that handily exceeds the value of the completed truck.

The view under the hood of this spotless Plymouth truck is awfully familiar.  From the late 30s to 1959, 6-cylinder Plymouths were powered by a nearly-identical flathead engine that only left production to make way for the famous slant-six.

Let’s move on to the “preservation” category, whose entrants are unrestored cars.  First, we meet a 1959 Lancia Flaminia sedan.  Never seen one?  Only about 13,000 were made in a 13-year period, and virtually none were sold in the US.

It was a big sedan by European standards, riding on a 113-inch wheelbase (about the same as my daily driver Lexus ES), and powered by a revolutionary – for its day – 2.5 liter narrow-angle V6.  In 1959, it carried a retail price of $7,000 – substantially more expensive than the most expensive Cadillac of its day.  This particular one was originally sold and driven in Syracuse and was stored from 1975 until recently.  With mechanical freshening up, it’s back on the road, but – as you can see – remains proudly unrestored.

Got Fins?  Who can resist the call of a 1959 Imperial Crown coupe.  It’s also in the preservation class, but this was a well-maintained and relatively clean original.  Close examination shows the need for some rechroming, which would likely cost more than the car is worth.

Is it too early to say that this is my favorite car of the whole show?  It’s a 1916 Marmon 41 three-seat Club Roadster, the only one of this model and body style known to exist today (a total of 52 were built).  Marmon was a top-end luxury car in its day, in production through 1933, and an innovator of some pretty modern features in its day.  This particular car retailed for $3,400 a hundred years ago – exactly equal to ten 1916 Model T Fords!

The fellow in the blue shirt is the grandson of the car’s original owner.  It has never left the family that bought it in the fall of 1915.

What’s under the hood?  A massive 447 cubic inch L-head six (nearly seven and a half liters!) producing somewhere around 90 horsepower.  Note, the block is cast in two sections of three cylinders apiece.  Notably, this engine boasts a few advanced features: seven main bearings and full-pressure lubrication, to name two.

You’ve got to love this.  Standard equipment on this Marmon included an engine-driven air pump, engaged by gear drive with the generator shaft, and connected to an air hose that reached any wheel of the car.

It’s a massive car – a 132 inch wheelbase and it’s riding on 36-inch wheels.  The paint, what’s left of it, is probably original to the car.

The nicest thing about an unrestored car: there’s no sense it worrying about it getting dirty or scuffed.  The gentleman who owns this Marmon was gracious enough to let me experience the captain’s chair, which I enjoyed tremendously!  For a car as big as all outdoors, there is almost no room behind the wheel, and getting in and out requires some real gyrations.

Let’s return to the military vehicles for a moment.  Everyone has seen World War II vehicles – but how about World War I?  This show marked an unusual gathering of three WWI veterans – all 100-year-old Dodges, originally used by the US Army, and all restored to their original army appearance.  This one, a 1918, was used as a staff car at an army base in Salt Lake City.

The second WWI Dodge is a 1917 ambulance.  Note the lack of headlights and the gas-burning lamp at the cowl – this is quite unusual, in that Dodge was known for its innovation in 12-volt electrical systems and electric starting, right from its launch in 1914.

A nearly-identical 1918 Dodge light repair truck – this one purchased by the ordnance department of the army (note the stylized bomb on the canvas canopy!).  This truck was apparently used by the repair folks who made house calls on sick Howitzers.

The Ordnance Department’s data tag is still affixed to the truck’s cowl.  Notice that the manufacturer is listed as “Dodge Brothers.”  Dodge was an independent company at the time, owned by the Dodge brothers, both of whom died in 1920.  Ownership then passed to the investment bank Dillon Read, who sold it to the fledgling Chrysler Corporation in 1928.

It seems to be a nice, clean 1964 Fairlane coupe with custom wheels.  Appearances can be deceiving!

In 1964, Ford built 100 Thunderbolt coupes – Fairlanes stripped for lightness, and equipped with a barely street-legal 427 V8.  They were built specifically for drag racing, although at the time it was possible to license them for street use.  This car was the prototype for the 99 that followed.  Found in a sand dune in Arizona, where it apparently sat for 45 years, the current owner has lovingly restored it (using an unoriginal but period-correct 427 and a completely incorrect modern 5-speed).  And he continues to drive it on the street and at the strip – he claims it will do a 10.42 second quarter at 128 mph!  Note the fiberglass hood with the blister to accommodate the 427’s intake manifold and carburetors.  Front fenders and bumper are also fiberglass.

Back in the 30s and 40s, this is what a well-dressed hot rod wore: a nice modified flathead, with high-compression heads and a supercharger.

Here’s what I love about that vintage hot rod: from the outside, it’s a perfectly stock, unmodified 1935 Ford Deluxe coupe.  And a great restoration, too.

 

My friend Barry Sanel, a serious gearhead, remarked that the Ford’s black finish was absolutely mirror-smooth.  He’s right.  That’s him in the hat.

And now, for some more prewar fun.  In 1930, Riley offered a modified model, featuring higher compression, a shorter and narrower chassis, and light roadster bodywork.  The result was this great-looking Riley 9 Brooklands Special.

And yes, I’m sure that the external exhausts got hot indeed.  Speaking of hot, the 1.1 liter four, equipped with a high-compression head and dual carbs, was good for 50 horsepower at 5,000 rpm – quite an achievement in 1930.

If you can fit in this Riley, you’re probably going to have a wild ride.  It’s tight, but extremely well instrumented.  The factory specs say that this is an 80 mph car, although race versions reportedly could break 90.

Prewar England sure turned out some odd sports cars.  This isn’t too unusual – a 1934 three-wheeled Morgan Super Sports – but it was  a nicely turned-out example.

 

But here’s something that’s very rare indeed – a 1954 Lancia Aurelia B20S.  One of Lancia’s first postwar offerings, this sporting coupe may be the first “2+2” coupe ever offered.  It’s powered by a 60-degree V6 of two and a half liters.

Noted for their superb engineering, light weight, and fine handling, the fifties Lancias made a name for themselves in sports car racing, rather surprising given their small engine sizes.  In recent years, collectors have snapped up the rare Aurelias, driving prices up over $200,000.

Back around 1960, the Austin Healey Sprite was the cheapest sports car you could buy – about a liter of displacement, maybe 1500 pounds, and a price around $2,000.  They were common back then, with cheesy build quality and owners who pounded them unmercifully.  So few exist.  And none that I’ve ever seen has been treated to such a beautiful restoration.

Inside the Sprite.  Kind of basic? No radio, heater, glove box, roll-up windows… nothing.

Nothing unusual here – a basic 1965 1200cc Beetle.  But with a great restoration, it’s enough to set off the nostalgia alarm for anyone who sees it.

And nothing unusual here, either – a 1967 MGB, considered by some MG purists to be the high point of the model.  The 1800cc was at its most powerful in 1967 (close to 100 hp); federal bumper regulations didn’t ruin the car’s looks yet; and the original dashboard, minus all the ugly padding, was still in place.  This one was restored by its current owner – who also applied the car’s superb paint job in his driveway.

It’s always a shock to look at a 1951 VW Beetle and remember the courage it took to sell it in this country.  It’s hard to imagine why anyone bought one – with the memory of World War II so fresh and the car so unprepared for US driving.  It’s been reported that VW sold 400 cars in the US in 1951 – and within a dozen years, they’d be selling about a thousand times as many.

Pure quaintness inside the VW: a wicker under-dash package shelf and the oddest Telefunken radio.  And who needs a gas gauge?

The Nash-Healey isn’t a terribly unusual car, with more than 500 built between 1951 and 1954.  But only about a third were LeMans coupes like this one, and this is the first coupe I’ve seen.  Designed by Pinin Farina, the Nash Healey was built in England by Healey and used a straight-six, 252 cubic inch Nash engine.

The “Dual Jetfire” logo on this immaculate valve cover refers to dual carburetors that were unique to the Nash Healey.  In this configuration, this engine was good for about 140 horsepower, not too shabby considering its 2,400 pound curb weight.

Oddly, the Nash-Healey coupe was built on a longer wheelbase than the convertible and shared relatively little of the convertible’s body design.  By 1954, Nash – now a part of newly-formed American Motors – could  not afford to keep this money-losing image car afloat, and it was about to get bypassed by the soon-to-be-introduced Thunderbird.  So for the 1954 production run, the convertible was discontinued and only 90 coupes were made, making this a rare beast indeed.

A 1934 Pierce Arrow 1248 Town Brougham.  This was the long-wheelbase Pierce (147 inches), and it’s powered by the 462 cubic inch V12 of 175 horsepower.  Sadly, Pierce could not leverage its history of fine engineering and elegant looks through the Great Depression.  By 1937, the company was liquidated.

This elegant Pierce Arrow’s coachwork was apparently built by LeBaron.

I think Lincolns of this era are rarer than Cadillacs, Packards, or other luxury makes.  This huge black convertible, a 1937, was one of my favorites at the show – in part because you never get to see them.  It’s powered by the familiar 414 cubic inch flathead V12.

The Lincoln’s finely-detailed dashboard.  Incidentally, this is technically a “Victoria’ and not a convertible – the difference: its top can be fixed in up or down positions, or in a partly-open mode with only the front seat exposed.

Lincolns of this era normally had custom bodies by Brunn.  There were a total of about 40 1937 Lincoln Victorias built; this is reputedly one of just four to survive.

Chryslers of this era were so stylish, particularly from the front.  This one is a 1932 Imperial convertible sedan.

Not very rare, but I just love the looks of these.  It’s a 1934 3 ½ liter Bentley.

One of my very favorite sedans – a 1936 Cord 810 Westchester.  I can only imagine how the automotive world responded to the introduction of the 810 in 1936: hidden headlights, a supercharged Lycoming V8, the preselector Bendix Electric Hand 4-speed transmission (more or less a precursor to the automatic transmission), and front wheel drive.  Between this handsome sedan and its companion open-top phaeton, only about 1,700 Cord 810s were built in 1936, and the company folded the next year.

The 810 was not the first Cord, however.  That honor went to the L29, built from 1929 to 1935 – itself an innovative front-drive car, but with power from a 125 hp straight eight.  This one is a 1932.

And there’s no XQS for tailfins that rise feet above the rear deck.  Imperial convertibles are very rare – this one is a 1961.

Inside the ’61 Imperial, in all its space-age glory.  Note the air conditioning ducts at the bottom of the dash – super-rare for a convertible of this era.

Like other Chrysler cars of its era, the Imperial sports a fake continental kit molded into its trunk lid.  But on an Imperial, that feature is further enhanced with a gold-and-chrome ornament.  Nothing subtle here.

The Imperial was apparently purchased in Bay Shore, Long Island from a dealership called Dick Winkler – long since gone.

You’re forgiven if this doesn’t look familiar.  These tail fins belong to a 1958 Dual Ghia 400, the prototype for the American-Italian hybrid of the late 50s and early 60s.

Dual Ghias were produced by Dual Motors of Michigan – a manufacturer of off-road trucks – with bodies built by Ghia in Italy and running gear from then-current Chryslers.

Inside the Dual Ghia, you mostly see off-the-shelf late 50s Chrysler parts, like the dash gauges and the “Highway Hi-Fi” record player just below the radio.  But you also see the familiar transmission push buttons just above the radio, rather than off to the left side of the dash, as most Chryslers had them.  And you see Snapple and candy wrapper debris which suggests that perhaps someone is actually driving this car.

This prototype, a 1958 New York Auto Show car, is a one-of-a-kind.  Powered by a 1957 Chrysler 392 hemi, it’s currently owned by prominent antique auto parts vendors Fred and Dan Kanter.

The second ’59 Imperial of the day – this one a Crown Southampton coupe.  The coolest thing about this is the brushed stainless steel insert on the roof.

One of my favorite things about American cars of the 50s and 60s is that production had not become as “rationalized” as it has today.  Technically, you could order most any combination of features, even though few people bought unusual combinations.  Exhibit One of that phenomenon: here’s a nice luxurious early-60s car with a factory 4-speed, bench seat, and air.  Nobody buys that odd combination.  Now, what kind of car would this strange combination be installed in?

A 1963 Mercury Colony Park 9-passenger wagon!

A car you almost never see – the 1953 Kaiser Dragon.  A big Buick-class car, priced about like a Roadmaster, the Dragon featured pleasant streamlined styling and a whole host of luxury and convenience features as standard equipment.

And when was the last time you saw a car called “Dragon?”  The explanation of the name is even crazier: Legend has it that Kaiser settled on the name when they introduced a deeply textured vinyl interior fabric that resembled alligator skin.  They felt, understandably, that “Alligator” would be a terrible name for a car – so they named it the next best thing, “Dragon.”

The Dragon’s bold cloth interior patterns are apparently authentic.

A very attractive car – particularly the “widow’s peak” shape above windshield and rear window.  Ultimately, Kaiser was a casualty of their antique L-head six engines, at a time when comparably priced Buicks, Oldsmobiles, and Chryslers all had overhead valve eights.  118 hp was just not enough.

A face only a mother could love: a 1948 Crosley convertible coupe.

But if you’re going to go overboard with a pointed nose, do it right.  This is the familiar 1951 Studebaker Commander V8.

Much more attractive than the sharpened nose – Raymond Loewy’s famous Starlight Coupe, with the wraparound glass. With its light weight and 289 V8, these were probably pretty good driver’s cars.

By now, the class winners had lined up for the awards ceremony.  The next pictures were taken on the fly, as winners passed by.  It’s a real testament to the quality of this class (Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg) that this 1935 Auburn Supercharged Phaeton was only third place.  Made two years before the make went belly-up, it was powered by a supercharged straight-8 of 150 hp.

In the same class – an unusual Rollston Convertible Victoria body on Duesenberg J #456, vintage 1931.  With all the J-series Duesenbergs I’ve seen, I never pass up the chance to look at one.  In about ten years of production, only about 480 J- and SJ-series Duesenbergs were produced.

Winner of the postwar American class, and a runner-up for best in show: a 1958 De Soto Adventurer convertible.  The mid-price answer to Chrysler’s sporty 300, the Adventurer was the top of the De Soto line, although it was powered by the modest “wedge” 361 rather than the legendary hemi.  Caught in the perfect storm of the 1958 recession and the imminent demise of the De Soto brand, only about 400 Adventurers were made in 1958, and only about 80 were convertibles.  So this one qualifies as rare and valuable.

Winner of the special Triumph class: a well-restored TR-2 that really demonstrated that these were bare, stark sports cars.

Another prize winner in the Triumph class: a 1968 GT-6.  Not a very sophisticated GT, but it was fun nonetheless: a mating of the tiny Spitfire platform with coupe bodywork and the 2.5 liter 6 from the TR-250 (and later, TR-6).  If you didn’t mind the noise and harshness and engine heat and peculiar handling, and if you were under about five-foot-eight, these were great fun.

And what’s a concours without a V-16? I think this was the only one at the show: a 1937 Cadillac V-16 Imperial Sedan.

I saw this at Greenwich earlier in the year, but it was fun to see it moving, and later up close.  This is the 1963 Mustang prototype, shown at auto shows in 1963 in preparation for the April 1964 introduction of the Mustang.  The short wheelbase and racing-style gas filler didn’t make it to production… but so much of its styling did.

It’s an unexpected pleasure to see a 1936 Austin Ten at a car show – they were never imported, and a stateside restoration of one is probably next to impossible.

Back to the ’63 Mustang.  As you look at it in profile, it becomes obvious how much this was shortened, relative to the final production version.  This is a strict two-seater with a radically shortened wheelbase – which probably led to some odd driving characteristics.  But it was built to be shown, not driven – despite being perfectly street legal.  Look closely and you’ll notice the plexiglass rear quarter windows.  As restoration projects go, this one was a challenge, since so much of the car was one-of-a-kind handbuilt.

A couple of quick treats before we go.  The concours is held on the grounds of the Saratoga Auto Museum, and one of the current rotating exhibits is this magnificent Mercedes 300SL Gullwing, originally owned by racer Sam Posey.

Stained and worn from sixty years of real use – that’s the way real sports cars look, not museum exhibits.  Congratulations to the Saratoga curators for recognizing this.

 

 

 

There’s a rule that the first Saturday in June is always sunny and warm, to accommodate the first day of the Greenwich Concours.  As usual, I attended the Saturday event, which is all American cars – plus the opportunity to preview Sunday’s Bonham’s auction.  You just can’t find a prettier spot for a car show.

Take your pick, it’s either the worst car ever or the worst boat ever.  This immaculately restored ’67 Amphicar is the only right-hand-drive one I’ve ever seen.  And this is in the parking lot – not in the show.  According to the sign, this beauty is for sale, at a price perilously close to $100,000.

Now, let’s enter the show grounds.  The first judging class that we meet is for the cars of Carroll Shelby, and that brings us to this 1967 Ford GT40 Mk. IV.  As this car’s history recently became known, it turns out that this was one of the Fords that won at LeMans that year.  In fact, notice the bulge in the car’s roof – a last-minute modification to accommodate six-foot-three Dan Gurney, who co-drove this car to victory.

But remember, not every Cobra was a 427.  The original Cobras were powered by small-block Ford V8s, and retained the well-proportioned, graceful lines of the car on which it was based – the AC Ace.  This particular one is a ’65, powered by the familiar 289 that powered Fairlanes and Mustangs for years.  Also – my favorite sports-car touch – how many Cobras had wire wheels?

We take a moment to scratch our heads.  It’s a “house car” built on a 1920 Model T chassis.  Why?  While you’re thinking about it, let me tell you that this … “unique” … car is owned by cable TV host and car restorer Wayne Carini (who was also a judge at this show).

A slightly more plausible take on the “house car” theme.  Back in the day, someone built a homemade RV body onto the chassis of a poor ol’ ’55 Bel Air.  It’s been restored wonderfully, although I’ll bet it’s no fun at all to drive.

Take a close look at this Mustang.  The show catalog lists it as a 1963.  Wait, Mustangs weren’t introduced until the 1964 New York World’s Fair.  And wait – there has never been a two-seat Mustang, and this one is laid out like a 240Z, with buckets up front and a cargo shelf behind.  The story is, this was a Ford prototype to test out the viability of a two-seat model, but of course it never saw production.  This one-of-a-kind Mustang, entirely street-legal, was discovered by Long Island collector Howard Kroplick, and was given a restoration befitting its rarity.

Did I say nicely restored?  This is as pristine and authentic as the day it was built.

Once upon a time, you could actually walk up to a Hertz counter and rent yourself a genuine GT-350.  The “H” in GT-350H stands for Hertz.  About a thousand were built for Hertz in 1966, mostly in black with gold stripes, all but the first hundred with automatic transmissions.  The cars were horribly abused by renters and the program ended after one year.

About as perfect as a first-year (1964) GTO can get.  With each successive generation of GTO growing more and more outrageous, it’s interesting to see how the concept began – with a light, simple Tempest coupe, powered by the 389 in Catalinas and Bonnevilles, with a firmed-up chassis and red-stripe tires – all for a low price.

 

A 1949 Willys-Overland Jeepster.  Willys recognized an opening in the market after World War II in which Americans might want a fun, sporty convertible that shared the heritage of the legendary military Jeep.  In 1948, they introduced the Jeepster – technically a phaeton, not a convertible, and perhaps the last phaeton made in the US.  In its first year, Willys sold a lackluster 10,000 units.  After fiddling with lower prices and changes in equipment, sales sank in the next two years, and it was gone by 1950.

This may be the last iteration of the “W-O” badge (for Willys-Overland).  The Overland name disappeared around this point.  All of the 1948-50 Jeepsters were rear-drive (unlike the 4-wheel-drive Jeeps, trucks, and station wagons), and most were powered by the same 2.2 liter, 63 horsepower, side-valve 4 as military Jeeps.

The 1955 Pontiac Safari shared body panels and market position with the Chevy Nomad, which was far more popular.  This particular Safari was nicely restored and extensively optioned.

And my favorite option: The amber-lighted Indian head gracing the Safari’s hood.

“Town and Country Wagon.”  No, I’m not talking about Chrysler minivans.  Let’s turn back the clock to 1951 for a really impressive Town and Country.

This beast was built for one year only, 1951, and only about 250 of them were made.  Its list price, north of $4,000, was right near the top of the Chrysler line.  I can only guess how few survive today.

Two other things that make this Town and Country so special.  1951 was the first year of the legendary “FirePower Hemi” engine, producing 180 hp from 331 cubic inches.  And look at the pump and reservoir just behind the generator – that’s the first application of power steering, not just in a Chrysler, but in any car.

Shown in the tent of a restoration vendor – this is apparently a Cisitalia 202 from approximately 1950.  The company was in business from just after World War II to the early 1960s, producing race cars and a small number of roadgoing sports cars like this one.

Under the hood of the Cisitalia – a modified Fiat 1100 four-cylinder with dual Webers and free-flowing headers.  Also note the stainless-steel fuel tank and the frame rails drilled out for lightness.

It’s quite simple inside the Cisitalia, although the design is beautiful and the trim is pretty lavish.

I’m not a Corvette guy, but it’s hard not to like a well-restored split-window ’63.

If you can’t see it clearly, the paper tag (reproduction?) is the instruction for setting antenna height to accommodate the state-of-the-art FM radio.

Here’s what makes this ’63 Corvette so valuable – it’s a factory-original “fuelie,” a 350 hp 327 with Rochester mechanical fuel injection.

I’m wondering, why don’t more people collect these?  It’s a 1955 Nash Ambassador with styling by Pininfarina.

Admittedly, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea… but it sure stands out in a field of normal cars!

The “Crown Imperial” logo, as it appeared in 1951 – a nameplate that would remain through the 1960s.  No, this chrome badge isn’t attached to a grassy field – this is a reflection in the car’s perfect black paint.

In 1951, Imperial wasn’t a separate nameplate – that wouldn’t happen until 1955.  Imperial was the top of the Chrysler line, and this one was a limited-production eight-passenger limousine.  This particular monster rides on a 146 inch wheelbase and weighs in just under three tons.

I have to believe that few 1951 Imperial limousines were made, and this is the only one I’ve ever seen.

The top of the 1953 Oldsmobile line – the Fiesta convertible.

“Sun Valley” – a nameplate that disappeared more than sixty years ago.

The 1954 Mercury Sun Valley (like the companion Ford Crestline Skyliner) incorporated a tinted full-width plexiglass panel over the front seat of a stylish coupe.  Fewer than 10,000 of these were made in its one-year run.

What a nice-looking Buick.  This is a 1953 Special Riviera (that is, pillarless) coupe.  It was built during Buick’s fiftieth-anniversary year, also the last year that Buicks were powered by straight-8 engines.

I think I’ve seen this car before, but I can’t resist taking a picture anyway.  It’s a 1948 Packard Custom Eight (22^nd Series) convertible.

Caught in the act: a 1957 Fairlane 500 Skyliner retractable hardtop.  I understand that this disappearing-hardtop trick required six electric motors, ten solenoids, four locking mechanisms, and more than 600 feet of wiring.  Ford offered a retractable model in three model years, 1957-59, and the 1957 was the most popular, with about 20,000 sold.

Who doesn’t like a nice aqua Edsel?  This one is a 1958 Pacer, one of the lower-level, short-wheelbase models, which shared heritage with Fords.  The two larger model lines were based on a Mercury platform

The Edsel’s owner also showed a matching child’s pedal car (“Edsel Youngster”) and a dealer’s promotional scale model – all painted to match the real car.

This 1959 Desoto Adventurer was made in the next-to-last year of Adventurer production (and second-to-last year of Desotos altogether).  The Adventurer was dramatically styled and lavishly equipped – but fewer than a thousand were made in 1959.

Tons of chrome and gold-anodized trim, absolutely no new or repro parts available…  this Adventurer was probably a real challenge to restore.  The results were worth it.

Chryslers of this vintage were so majestic.  This one is a 1932 CL convertible sedan.

Two of my favorite full classics: foreground, a 1931 Duesenberg J; background, a 1940 Packard Darrin.

Yes, it says V16.  It’s a 16-cylinder 1938 Cadillac convertible coupe.  One of only a few hundred V16s made that year, it’s powered by a 431 cubic inch flathead, producing 185 hp.  This beauty had the right color, the right body style, the right options, and the right restoration.

And it has a powerful presence.

It’s said that there were only eleven 1941 Packard 180 LeBaron Sport Sedans – and this is the first one I’ve ever seen.  Powered by the largest (160 hp) straight 8, it has a sportier and more graceful appearance than the factory-built 180s (which aren’t all that common, either).

Not all that unusual, but a really nice restoration of a good-looking car: a 1936 Packard 1401 convertible coupe.

However, this one is truly rare.  It’s a 1932 Studebaker President convertible sedan, I think the only Studebaker to be named a Full Classic.  And, I understand, this car was judged best in show.

One of only about 2,000 Studebaker Presidents made that year, this particular Studebaker was treated to a first-class restoration and it was a standout in a very competitive class.

I love the looks of this 1934 Packard 1108 LeBaron dual-cowl phaeton – but, unfortunately, this was a modern rebody of a 1934 chassis, not an original phaeton.  Sure was pretty, though.

What’s a concours without  a Pierce Arrow?  This one is a 1934 model 840A convertible sedan.

Getting to the rare stuff.  Raise your hand if you’ve heard of the DuPont.  In a dozen years in business, only about 700 DuPonts were made, and they were built – and priced – competitively with the finest cars in the world.  The company – founded by E.I. DuPont’s grandson – only lasted until 1931, when the remaining company assets were merged with the assets of Indian Motorcycles.  Anyway, this is a straight-8 1928 Model E convertible sedan, and that’s judge and TV celebrity Wayne Carini looking casual next to it.

Words can’t adequately describe just how… big … a 1928 Locomobile 8-80 is.  For decades, Locomobile was a producer of top-quality large cars, assembled in Bridgeport, CT.  William Durant, the genius behind General Motors, tried to resuscitate a dying Locomobile company in the mid-1920s, but ultimately, falling sales and inadequate capitalization killed the company.  The 8-80 was among the last models, and the last Locomobile was made in 1929.

It looks older than it really is.  This is an Anderson “B” motor buggy, vintage 1910 – and it was truly an antique the day it was made, in comparison to “modern” contemporaries like the Model T Ford.  Anderson was in business for about 15 years, from 1910 to the mid-1920s, built in Rock Hill, South Carolina.  The economics of mass manufacturing doomed Anderson, which couldn’t keep up with the low prices of Fords and others.  One estimate says that twelve Andersons survive today, out of 6,000 built.

Looking good at more than 100 years of age!  This is a beautiful restoration of a 1914 Pierce Arrow 38 Touring.

Just in case there was any doubt as to this car’s age…

Wayne Carini, again – this time with one of his barn-find classics, a 1921 Stutz Bearcat.  I never find stuff like this in barns.

 

Now, how about that for a great-looking Packard: A 1907 Model 30 Roadster.

Okay, another obscure nameplate.  “Panther”

Yes, Panther.  In 1954, Packard tried hard to liven up its staid image with some fiberglass-body show cars.  Packards had become stodgy and technologically obsolete, and their first modern engine was still a year off.  But show cars like this one kept interest alive in the brand.  Unlike GM, for example, Packard’s show cars survived after the season – there’s a New Jersey collector who has saved a number of them, including this Panther.

But look inside at all of the factory Packard parts!

Honest, isn’t this the coolest radiator logo you’ve ever seen?

Its coolness is only matched by the car to which it’s attached – a 1910 American Underslung Traveler Toy Tonneau.  Manufactured from 1905 to 1913, the American Underslung – designed by the legendary Harry Stutz, who would manufacture his own car after this – distinguished itself by locating the axles above the frame rails (hence, “underslung”) and supporting the car on enormous 40-inch wheels.  This resulted in a lower center of gravity and better handling and stability.  And, incredibly, this car was powered by an 8-liter (more than 450 cubic inch) 4-cylinder, rated at 50 hp.  Sadly, the market wouldn’t support its high prices (this one was more than $4,000 new), and the company was forced into receivership in 1913.

What could be better than a 1957 Dual-Ghia convertible posed by the yachts in Greenwich harbor?

Oh, not another DuPont!  Note the classy looking Woodlite headlights.

The radiator cap mascot on this particular DuPont.  This was a popular, although very expensive, accessory on 1920s luxury cars, the most valuable of which were made by Lalique.  Is this an original Lalique?

This DuPont is a 1929 Model G speedster, the perfect plaything for the pre-Depression idle rich.

Now, let’s head over to the Bonham’s auction tent to see what’s coming up in Sunday’s auction.  We’ll start with a presentable – but not show-worthy – 1928 Cadillac V8 convertible coupe.  What makes this special – according to the consignor, it was originally owned by a prohibition-era bootlegger, and it incorporates “special equipment” including a smoke-screen generator and special compartments.

It looks like Bonham’s has a Riley!

Doesn’t this look like fun?  It’s a 1935 Riley Imp, powered by a 1.1 liter four.  Bonham’s sold it for $140,000.

Inside the Riley.  Here’s a little surprise: it’s equipped with a Wilson Preselector transmission – note the “R N 1 2 3 4” control to the right of the steering column.  To drive it, select the next gear you’d like (2 if you’re in first, for example), then when you depress and release the clutch pedal, the transmission will execute a 1-2 shift for you.

“Doretti” – another badge you don’t see very often. Pay no attention to the Italian-sounding name – the Doretti was British-built and was owned by the company that made Swallow motorcycle sidecars.

This beauty is a 1954 Swallow Doretti, one of 276 built in 1954-55.  It’s got a unique hand-formed aluminum body over a steel tubular frame.

Perhaps it was just the style of the day, but from the rear, the Doretti looks a lot like a big Healey.

Ignore the Doretti badge for a moment.  This is a 2-liter Triumph four, equipped with an aftermarket supercharger from the period, breathing through a single SU carburetor.

There has to be an interesting story here.  This ’58 MGA 1500 is complete and apparently unworn, but it wears a paint job that looks like a biology experiment.

The story is, this car has been driven a total of 1,500 miles in close to 60 years.  It’s been stored (and not very well, it seems) for the past 45 years.  Everything, other than tires and fluids, is original – although not very presentable.  The car sold at auction for $28,000, and it really begs the question of what someone will do with it.  Repaint it and put it back on the road?  Keep it as an historical reference to guide future MGA restorations?

A nice looking, nicely restored, and seldom seen 1948 Nash Ambassador convertible.  One of about 1,000 convertibles made that year, it marks the last body-on-frame Nash, as well as the last-ever Nash convertible.

Familiar badge.  We all know the Sunbeam Alpine, right?

Not quite.  This 1955 Alpine was the first one, a convertible version of the Talbot-Sunbeam 90 sedan.  Old movie buffs will recognize that this was the car that was used in the Hitchcock film To Catch a Thief.  It’s a 2.2 liter four with a column-shifted 4-speed.  The more-familiar 2-seat Alpine wouldn’t come along until 1959.

Flanders cars are a little scarce nowadays.  Named for engineer Walter Flanders, the car was built in association with Studebaker, and was eventually absorbed into Studebaker.  This particular one, a 1912 Model 20, had been stripped down back in the day to become a “speedster” – that is, all the bodywork other than a bare platform with two seats had been stripped away.  This Flanders had been part of the legendary Harrah collection and was auctioned off more than 30 years ago.

Car-Nation?  This is a first for me.

One of about 2,000 produced in 1912-13, the Car-Nation Model C roadster was intended to fill the gap between tiny cyclecars and the more expensive Model T.  But, of course, Model Ts just got cheaper and cheaper, and the tiny, thousand-pound Car-Nation was squeezed out of the market.  This one, restored about 60 years ago, is reputed to be one of just two that survive.

As the plaque inside testifies, the Car-Nation is a product of the American Voiturette Company, which declared bankruptcy in 1914.

Some classy convertibles: 1963 Imperial and 1959 Edsel.

Finally, we head to the parking lot, and – what’s this?  Yet another late-20s DuPont?  That’s three in one day!

Apparently, a model G with a custom body.  And it’s in the parking lot, not on display, and apparently not for sale.  A mystery.

Saving the best for last…  it’s a boat-tail with a single rumble seat.  Greenwich always shows you something unexpected.

Thomas Edison’s mansion in West Orange, New Jersey – what a terrific place to hold a concours! The day was sunny but very cold, and the concours – the first of a brand-new annual event – was a fabulous first effort! Ironically, this show was held on the 84th anniversary, to the day, of Edison’s death.

First, a stop in the Edison family’s garage, which contains some family memorabilia. This is the grandfather of the Tesla Supercharger – it’s a homemade charging station for electric cars, of which Edison had a few, and – understandably – he was very excited about. For myself, I would not want to be the one to plug this in! Incidentally, he allowed his electric- car-owning neighbors use the charging station back in the day – at $.05 a kilowatt! What a guy.

Next to the charging station, Mrs. Edison’s favorite, a 1914 Detroit Electric, in preserved, unrestored form. This one was capable of an 80 mile range at a maximum 20 mph.

Opposite the Detroit Electric, there’s a plain ol’ 1922 Model T touring car – the one that Edison used for his commute. This car, quite freshly restored, was a gift from Edison’s friend Henry Ford.

This funereal-looking vehicle is, in fact, a hearse! The chassis is a 1916 Winton, powered by a 48-horsepower straight six. Winton, a pioneer in high-quality cars in the earliest days, stayed in the car-producing business until 1924.

All of the trim at the back of this hearse, right down to the draped “curtains,” is all carved and painted wood. Incidentally, Winton continued in the engine business after it stopped producing cars. In 1930, GM bought Winton Engine Company, and continued to make a diesel at this division into the 1960s.

This unusual, huge 1916 Cadillac model 53 limousine was originally owned by Madeline Edison Sloane, Thomas Edison’s oldest daughter by his second marriage. The car’s body was built by Healy, a New York coachwork salon.

The Cadillac was powered by a 90-degree V8 in only its second year of production. Designed by the legendary Henry Leland, it was rated at 70 hp from 315 cubic inches.

This handsome little roadster is a 1914 Pierce Arrow. It was purchased new by Atwater Kent, the pioneer in manufacturing radio receivers in the early days. The car was kept by the Kent family at their Maine vacation home, and remained in the family’s ownership until 1985. This roadster is the only known one of its body style to exist today.

A 1913 Rolls Royce 40/50 – the “Silver Ghost.” This one had been part of the Henry Ford collection in Dearborn, Michigan until quite recently. It had been displayed only as a chassis – the original body was lost somewhere along the way. A new body, matching its original one, was built in England recently.

Inside the Rolls – all that money could buy in 1913.

This stately, short-wheelbase limousine is a 1912 Packard Model 18 Landaulette, powered by an 18-horsepower four. This car was restored once… in 1949!

The Packard’s spare tires – Firestone “Non-Skid” treads.

I knew of the Columbia car, but only the electric-powered ones. But they made a gas-powered car, too, like this 1909 Model 48. Columbia was a brand of Pope-Hartford Manufacturing, which also manufactured the Columbia bicycle. By 1910, Pope Hartford exited the car-making business, so this 1909 is almost the last one.

Not quite a car, is it? It’s a 1924 Auto Red Bug, a buckboard – little more than a go-kart with an electric motor. It’s powered by a 12-volt auto starter motor and has a single 12-volt battery. Its original owner: Lou Costello, of Abbott & Costello.

The Auto Red Bug being driven (slowly!) at the awards ceremony. Later models were powered by single-cylinder Briggs & Stratton gas engines.

This is about as nice a restoration of an electric car as any I’ve ever seen. It’s a 1923 Detroit Electric, an elegant 25 mph luxury coupe. By the twenties, the sales of electrics like this one began to decline, thanks to the self-starters that became universal in gas-powered cars and the superior performance of most internal combustion engines. But surprisingly, Detroit Electric continued to build cars – in very limited numbers – through 1939.

Inside the Detroit Electric – plush seating, a jump seat for the driver, and a huge ammeter. Not visible here – right through 1923, Detroit Electrics continued to use tiller steering, rather than a steering wheel! (Note, that isn’t grass growing in the interior – it’s just reflection on the side glass.)

The Detroit Electric powerplant: seven six-volt batteries. The solid-state charger seen here isn’t original.

The oldest car in the show, an 1898 Riker Electric Victoria. Riker, based in New York City, produced a handful of electric cars between 1896 and 1900. This particular car has only had two owners in almost 120 years: the current owner (a Connecticut professional car restorer) and the original owner, the Riker family.

The condition of the car suggests that it’s largely original.

Here’s one you never see: a 1932 Ruxton. It’s also a great story. In the late 20s, a stock market manipulator named Archie Andrews gained control over the defunct Moon Motor Car Company of St. Louis. He combined that manufacturing capability with the rights to build a prototype car designed by Budd, the body builder that was eventually owned by Chrysler. The result was the Ruxton, named for an investor – who, as it turns out, never put any money into the venture.

But what a car. It may be the first American front drive car – it was announced shortly before Cord introduced its L-29, although production didn’t begin until a couple of years later. Thanks to the elimination of the driveshaft and rear differential, the car stands only four and a half feet tall – a foot and a half lower than competitive makes. And the design! The narrow Woodlite headlights (very attractive, but perfectly worthless for illumination), the elimination of its running boards, and the horizontal stripes – designed by Broadway set designer Joseph Urban – all accentuate the low, flowing lines.

Of course, it came to a sad end. Within months, creditors demanded payment and the factory closed down after a production run of about 90 vehicles, of which 19 remain.

I think that in any other show, this would have been the star attraction… and I almost walked by it! It’s a 1933 Marmon coupe, made in the last year of Marmon Motor Car Company. This magnificent coupe is powered by an all-aluminum, 491-cubic-inch V-16 rated at 200 hp.

A 1930 Stutz Monte Carlo, body by Weyman. Powered by a single overhead cam straight 8, this is one of three Monte Carlos built.

The radical Weyman body was based on then-current aircraft principles: it was a flexible artificial-leather body on a lightweight wood frame.

Not all that unusual, but very attractive nonetheless. It’s a 1935 3 ½ liter Bentley Sedanca Coupe.

My favorite view of prewar Bentleys – all of the wood and leather.

I’ve never seen this little detail before – it appears to be a period-correct Philco radio head unit installed in the Bentley.

Oh, boy. It’s a 1937 Bugatti 57SC Atalante coupe, one of 34 produced.

The classic Bugatti grille. This one is powered by a 210 hp supercharged straight eight.

Pardon all the glare – the Atalante coupes are a lot more plush and refined than most of the Bugattis, which tend to keep more to their race car origins.

One you never see anywhere – a 1937 Delage D8-120S Aerodynamic Coupe, with a body by Portout. Rumored to be Louis Delage’s personal car, this all-aluminum coupe was best-in-show at Pebble Beach in 2005.

The pillarless sides featured glass without even a gasket where glass meets glass – a tribute to the precise body fit, and the desire not to break up the aerodynamic lines.

Inside the Delage – clean modern lines, bright colors, and a Cotal electromagnetic transmission preselector.

My favorite view of the Delage – bat-wing aerodynamics and a single stop light below the faired-in license plate.

The elegant lines of the Delage, interrupted by some last-minute mechanical crisis…

The crisis: apparently a stuck carburetor float on the Delage’s 4.75 liter straight eight, which had caused raw gas to pour over the block.

Ready for another rare one? This beauty is a 1938 Steyr 220S sport roadster. It’s one of six built in Austria between 1938 and 1941, of which two survive. The coachwork was done by Glaeser of Dresden.

The Steyr was powered by an OHV 2.3 liter straight six. In its sport model, equipped with dual carburetors, it produced an estimated 85 horsepower. With its 4-speed transmission and fully independent suspension, this Steyr was likely a great car to drive. (Note also, the molded-in Steyr logo on the intake manifold – a detail that probably complicated its already-complicated restoration.

A car this beautiful deserves its elegant and sporty interior.

Another restoration challenge: recreating the fitted luggage stowed behind the Steyr’s seat.

Since its restoration about 3 years ago, this car has been doing the route of concours all over the US. The only other Steyr sport roadster is in a museum in Austria.

It’s hard to name a favorite in a field like this – but I think this unbelievable piece of sculpture is mine. It’s a 1937 Horch 853 sport cabriolet, body by Voll & Ruhrbeck. I can’t even guess what the rechroming bill was like.

In case the Horch name isn’t familiar: Horch and three other makes (Audi, DKW, and Wanderer) merged in 1932 to create Auto Union. Four rings, commemorating the four companies, remains Audi’s logo today.

An original owner’s manual on the Horch’s seat. Note the four-ring logo.

Subject of a 5-year restoration, this Horch was best-of-show at Pebble Beach in 2009. It’s powered by a 5-liter straight eight.

Sorry, I just can’t get my eyes off of this thing.

Almost lost in the shuffle… it’s an early-30s Alfa Romeo 8C2300.

A 1932 Lancia Dilambda Sport Torpedo. Manufactured from 1928 to 1935, the Dilambda was noted for its advanced engineering – for example, a narrow-angle, 24-degree 4-liter V8.

The Lancia from the rear – note the cut-down “Brooklands” style windshields on the center cowl.

Inside the Lancia – another great example of 1930s elegance.

A 1929 Alfa Romeo 6C1750. This is the model that dominated European road racing through the 1920s and early 30s, and this particular car is a well-restored example.

The aluminum Alfa engine is a joy to behold – particularly a spotless one like this one.

And what’s this? Right at the front of the block, a supercharger.

While this Alfa is street-legal, the interior really communicates its race heritage. No wood trim, no carpets, minimal seating – just lots and lots of aluminum.

One of the rarer cars shown here – a 1927 Hispano Suiza H6B wood-bodied skiff. Hispano Suiza – built in Spain, designed in Switzerland (hence the name), was more of an aircraft manufacturer than a carmaker. Their late-20s products tended to be the most expensive and exclusive cars sold anywhere, with impressive performance for their day. The H6B was in production through 1929, and Hispano’s last car was made in 1937.

Wood bodied? Yes – the marine-inspired dual cowl phaeton was entirely made of polished wood from the cowl to its graceful boat tail.

Every car should have a rear dashboard. Back-seat drivers were treated to speed, revs, and time updates.

But the driver received the full informational treatment, all set in an engine-turned finish.

A lovely detail – the car has four step plates, one for each passenger, cast in the car’s stork logo.

This H6B was powered by a 6.6 liter straight six rated at 135 horsepower, sufficient for an 85 mph top speed.Bugatti made a few hundred Type 38A touring cars in 1926-27 – this is the only one I’ve ever seen. Only a handful of these cars, including this one, were supercharged.

The Type 38A shared the two-liter straight 8 engine with the Type 35 grand prix car – but it was also equipped with a sort-of 4 passenger body and even some minimal weather protection, in the form of a poorly fitting folding top.

Really, this is pretty posh for a Bugatti. And as for seating 4 people – they’d better know each other really, really well.

Again, at any other car show, I’d flip over this 1937 Packard V-12 coupe. It looks a little ordinary after the row of European classics.

Why would anyone name their 1937 Cord 810 Beverly sedan “Armchair?”

The answer is inside. Both the front and rear seats have the factory’s “armchair” option, that converted the normal bench seats into, effectively, four buckets.

Even without this little innovation, I love seeing Cord sedans. Their pioneering front wheel drive gave stylists a lot more freedom to make a low-riding, modest-sized, comfortable car. From this angle, there’s something reminiscent of then-current Citroen Traction Avants.

When you’re rich, who needs to see what’s behind you? This 1934 Packard Aerodynamic Coupe, with a custom body by LeBaron, offers plenty of exclusivity – only ten were made – but tiny back windows and no passenger-side mirrors.

The 12-cylinder Packard of this series was a 7.3 liter (445 cubic inch) cast-iron monstrosity, producing 175 horsepower.

From the front, forward of the cowl, it’s pretty much a standard 11th series Packard.

Here’s what you got when you bought a Packard V-12 in 1934 – acres and acres of burled walnut.

Among the last of the Caddy V-16s – a stunning 1934 dual-sidemount coupe.

No, I never saw one like this, either. It’s a 1931 Rolls Royce Phantom I, with “windswept” body by Brewster. It’s the only one of its kind. Note the sharp creases in roof and deck lines, and the reverse slant of the rear window and the doors.

Up front, the Rolls Windswept is fairly conventional.

Extremely rare, then and now, this is a 1929 Isotta Fraschini limousine, body by Castagna. It was probably the most expensive car of its day – the chassis was all that the factory sold, and it cost $10,000. The story is that the body cost an additional $10,000. This one is also a former Pebble Beach award winner.

Under this stately hood resides a 7.4 liter, all-aluminum straight-8 producing 115 horsepower.

Not very rare, but I like taking pictures of these, anyway. It’s a 1940 Packard Darrin convertible Victoria.

Inside the Packard Darrin, it’s a lot more elegant than sporty. This was a most impressive example.

And, along the same lines, I can’t walk by a Cord 810.

Pierce Arrow was already on its way out by 1935, and this amazing convertible, a Chicago Auto Show car in its day, was reputedly the last V-12 Pierce ever made. The very last Pierce Arrow was built in the 1938 model year. This green beauty took top honors recently at Amelia Island.

The V-12 logo hubcap – probably impossible to replace.

There’s a simple elegance to the interior of this Pierce – a beautiful, understated quality.

Hard for me to identify this, too. It’s a 1932 Hupmobile B316 roadster, with a wonderful two-tone paint scheme. (Can’t walk by a red convertible – Barry’s first law.)

My favorite part – the stylized “H” logo on its radiator cap.

Utterly outrageous. This car was judged People’s Choice, and it’s a pretty good choice, I think. It’s a 1932 Auburn V-12 boattail. At the time, the Auburn V-12 was the least expensive V-12 you could buy – but, at the depth of the depression, it wasn’t enough to save the fine old brand – the last Auburn was made in 1937, along with the manufacturer’s other brands, Duesenberg and Cord.

How much fun do you think it was to paint this Auburn? By the way, the Auburn’s V-12 was 391 cubic inches and 160 horsepower, making this a rather lively performer.

Lest you forget that this Auburn is a 12…

There are some unique things about this 1930 Cadillac V16 convertible sedan, body by Murphy. First, its original owner was Charles Howard, the west coast GM distributor and owner of the racehorse Seabiscuit. And second, this Cadillac won best in class at Pebble Beach – twice.

What’s a concours without a Duesenberg? This 1928 J Derham-body phaeton was among the very first Js made – it was the west-coast show car at the auto shows at which the Dusenberg J was introduced.

The wonderful proliferation of gauges inside a J series Duesenberg… the 150 mph speedometer isn’t too much of an exaggeration – this monster is powered by a 420 cubic inch, 265-horsepower, single overhead cam straight 8.

The Duesenberg from the rear – a top quality restoration everywhere you look.

I love the irony of the repeal prohibition plate between the headlights of this 1929 Franklin. Franklins were air-cooled – they were always “dry.”

This particular Franklin is a model 137 sport touring, with a 60-horsepower air-cooled six. Franklin would struggle a few more years before going under in 1935.

What’s better than one Duesenberg at a show? Two. This one is a supercharged SJ dual cowl phaeton, and is featured on this show’s promotional literature.

What, another 1934 Packard V-12? Yes – this one a well-restored convertible Victoria.

Who doesn’t love a 300SL roadster? Particularly a red one?

The radio nerd in me was drawn to the Becker Mexico TR radio installed (ostensibly by the factory) in this immaculate 300SL. Note the lower row of buttons – they refer to various wavelengths of short-wave broadcasting.

Crossing the red carpet, a perfectly restored 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham – the most expensive American car you could buy in 1957.

Open the Elodorado Brougham’s glove box and there’s a little cocktail set, with chrome tumblers. Does any part of that strike you as, perhaps, a bad idea?

Not everyone’s cup of tea – but there’s something outrageous about the 1959 Imperial Southampton Coupe that speaks to me.

Hard getting it to fit in a single photo! But look at the beautiful stainless-steel roof insert.

Welcome to the space age. The Virgil Exner era at Chrysler, from the mid-50s to the early 60s, featured bombsight tail lights, rocket inspired bumper shapes, and the greatest fake continental kit of all time.

Inside the Imperial – all of the toys, chrome, and flash that you could possibly ask for.

Stop me if you’ve seen one of these before. Just kidding – this is the only one. It’s the 1953 Paxton Phoenix coupe, a one-off to test the market for (and find investors for) what was hoped would be a steam-powered sporty touring car with a retractable hard top. The steam powerplant didn’t work out, so the prototype was powered by a then-current Porsche 356 four-cylinder.

It’s pretty nicely finished for a prototype and it’s fully functional. The entrepreneur behind this venture, Robert McCullough, made his fortune making chain saws and Paxton superchargers.

Flying-goose logos appear inside and outside the Paxton. (A wild goose chase?)

The Phoenix was styled by famous Studebaker designer Brooks Stevens. The fiberglass-bodied coupe was only driven a few miles back in its day; it remained at the McCullough factory for decades, then was sold to Brooks Stevens’ museum, and when that museum was liquidated about 15 years ago, the current owner bought it. Today, it has less than 800 miles on it.It’s a 1956 Imperial convertible, isn’t it? Well, not exactly. Chrysler Corporation president K. T. Keller wanted an Imperial convertible, but Chrysler didn’t make one. So he commissioned this one – a perfectly custom, one-of-a-kind that was exactly what a 1956 Imperial convertible would be, if Chrysler made one. I can’t imagine how expensive this was to build. Or how impossible to restore.

The New Jersey tag “Only 1” isn’t kidding. Even the continental kit had to be designed and built to Keller’s specification. (It’s good to be the king.)

A prize-winning 1958 Dual-Ghia convertible. A total of 117 of these beauties were built between 1956 and 1958 with Dodge V8 power, but only 29 are known to exist today. Every celebrity of the late 50s, from Desi Arnaz to Ronald Reagan, seemingly owned one.

Does this worn-looking taxi seem familiar to you?

It’s the very taxi that was used in the family classic tear-jerker “It’s A Wonderful Life.”

The manufacturer: GMC. This is proof that it’s a genuine old taxi – GMC never built a sedan for the general public.

Inside, it still has its original 1930-vintage taxi meter. Incidentally, this car’s owner is the legendary jeweler – and car collector – Nicola Bulgari.

Rare, rare, rare. This is a 1954 Maserati A6G 2000 Sport. According to its owner, the car was built for the 1955 Geneva auto show, and Argentine dictator Juan Peron arranged to buy it, with some modifications. Apparently, the deal fell through, and the car was shown again – and sold – at the 1958 Paris auto show.

A wonderful little 1954 Siata 200CS Balbo coupe. Largely unrestored, it was purchased at a Queens used car lot 56 years ago by the current owner’s father. It’s powered by a 2-liter Fiat V8.

This beautiful Ferrari 250GT is a very rare one indeed – the only Boano-bodied open Ferrari. It’s a 1956.

Tailfins on a Ferrari? Again, the only time I’ve seen this.

Boano’s logo on this superbly restored Ferrari.

Here’s another rare item: a 1954 Fiat 1100 berlinetta, body by Bertone, and the 1100-cc four modified by famous Italian racecar builder Stanguellini. Reportedly, this was sold originally at the 1954 New York Auto Show to legendary race driver and builder Briggs Cunningham.

Not often that you see this logo on a car…

It’s a 1956 Talbot-Lago T14 coupe. Powered by a 2.5-liter twin cam four, it was rated at 120 hp back in the day. Only 54 were ever produced.

Unfortunately, the Talbot 4-cylinder wasn’t much of an engine, and by 1957, the same car was sold with a BMW V8. By 1959, the Talbot company was sold to Simca, and these beautiful coupes were discontinued.

On a lighter note, Auctions America came with their own promotional vehicle – a Crosley ice cream truck. It seems unlikely that it was originally built this way – and almost as unlikely that anyone would be interested in ice cream on this chilly Sunday!

Finally… 1954 was something of a transition year for Corvette – the last year for the six cylinder and automatic powertrain, but the first year of colors other than Polo White. This one was a perfect restoration. Only about 3,600 1954 models were built, making it the second-lowest production year – second only to 1953.

The organizers of this show did an incredible job, and they promise to come back bigger and better next year!

The folks at the Hemmings publications must be living right. The day of their show was perfect early fall weather – cloudless, seventy degrees, and a slight breeze. The location – on the grounds of the Saratoga Auto Museum – could not be better. And the show did not disappoint.

Here’s the first car I saw at the site – in the parking lot, actually. This handsome and seldom-seen 1937 Terraplane was apparently driven here by a spectator,

Terraplane was the low-priced, six-cylinder Hudson between 1932 and 1938. Originally called the Essex Terrplane (after an earlier Hudson-branded car), the final years were just called Terraplanes. Incidentally, the earliest Terraplanes were lightweight 8-cylinder cars, remarkably powerful for their day – and their engines later powered the British Railton sports car.

This year’s show featured police cars. Here’s the first one I saw – a 1972 Buick LeSabre (a little unusual as a police car), which was actually a replica, using period-correct police equipment. This car was never actually used as a police car.

But here’s why I photographed it: it was re-created to match patrol cars in Peekskill, next town over from me.

Who the heck uses a Bricklin as a police car? There’s a story. Malcom Bricklin leased three new 1975 Bricklins to the Scottsdale, Arizona police department to test their suitability as police cruisers. This one, freshly restored, is the only one to survive.

What an incredibly dumb idea. Apart from the Bricklins’ reputation for fragile construction and sketchy reliability, the patrol versions were unbelievably cramped when loaded up with police paraphernalia.

The show also featured some old trucks, and this one is just remarkable. It’s a 1920 International Model K, a fresh restoration without any cargo body installed – so it’s just like the factory would have delivered it 95 years ago, except they were probably not finished nearly as well as this one.

This massive vehicle, with a rated top speed of fifteen miles an hour (!), is only rated at a ton and a half. Note the extensive instrumentation… none whatsoever.

At the opposite extreme, here’s a 1947 Crosley pickup, riding on an 80-inch wheelbase and powered by a 44-horsepower water-cooled four. This particular car, an AACA National First winner, was featured in a Hemmings publication a couple of months ago, fresh from an extensive restoration.

The VIM Motor Truck Company? I never heard of it before.

VIM was in business from 1916 to 1922, declared bankruptcy, and then came back for one year in 1923. This spectacularly-restored truck was made during that one post-bankruptcy year, and it’s the only one from that year known to exist today. Spare parts? Yeah, right…

The brass plaque inside instructs owners to limit loading of this car [sic] to ¾ of a ton.

Another spectacular restoration of a working vehicle – a 1950 Ford F3 (heavy duty) pickup, that had survived a lifetime of farm and logging work before its recent restoration. Featured in a Hemmings magazine in the past year, this Ford is exactly the way it left the factory.

Back to the police for a moment… this seventies Dodge Diplomat began life as a New York City unmarked car, and when its current owner acquired it, the car was restored as a basic blue-and-white.

Oh, boy, do I remember these black-and-white Plymouths on the Thruway back in the day…

Who could be intimidated by a Lark, for heaven’s sake? But there’s a story here, too. Studebaker, desperate for high-volume fleet sales, created a line called the “Pursuit Marshal” based upon Lark sedans and wagons. In 1964, Studebaker delivered a number of them – for test and demonstration? Or just as showroom models? Or maybe some performed police work? No one knows. But only thirty were made, of which this was one. And this was almost the only one that was equipped with the Avanti R1 289 V8 and a 4-speed manual shift.

Ancient history time – in 1959, GM approved a show car to be built on a (used) 1956 Corvette SS racing chassis, created out of fiberglass, based upon sketches made by styling legend Pete Brock. This is the one-and-only result – the XP87 Stingray, owned by the GM Heritage Center.

While this is a fully-functioning vehicle. There was no attempt to dress up the car’s interior, or anything else that wasn’t readily visible from the outside. So inside, it remained pretty much the car that raced in the mid-50s, including a handful of Chevy production parts that are visible here.

You want to see how influential XP87 was? Look at it sitting next to a production 1963 Stingray coupe. See the family resemblance?

A 1965 Cobra Daytona coupe – one of six built by Shelby American in 1964-65, strictly for racing (and strictly to take on Ferrari at LeMans). Its presence here is a tribute to its designer, Pete Brock (yes, the same designer as the XP87), who was the show’s honorary chairperson.

On the Daytona’s roof, a handwritten message to the car’s owner from the late Carroll Shelby himself.

Big, bold, garish… a 1957 Chrysler 300C, powered by the 392 hemi. Interestingly, only a handful of 1957 cars had quad headlights: these Chryslers, certain Lincolns, and Nash Ambassadors. By 1958, quad lights were almost universal.

This Chrysler wasn’t really show quality – a nice driver-quality car, I think – but it still gives me a charge to see the pushbutton TorqueFlite transmission selectors!

No, I didn’t recognize it, either. This handsome little sedan is a 1937 Volvo PV52, a small 3.7 liter six-cylinder. Only about a thousand PV52s were made, and this one – acquired in Sweden – is the only one in the US. Again, not a restoration for the faint of heart.

I was very taken with this unusual Volvo… note the cutouts on the roof pillars for manual (semaphore) turn signals.

The Austin Seven is sometimes referred to as Britain’s Model T – in production for eighteen years (like the Model T), almost 300,000 were made. Unbelievably small – a 75-inch wheelbase and a curb weight under 800 pounds – this one, a 1932, received an eyecatching restoration and sported a sliding roof.

1935 Rover 12 P1 tourer – a very attractive and seldom seen open tourer, this one was also in “driver” condition, but it sure looked like fun. These were powered by 1.5 liter, 53-horsepower fours.

My unbreakable rule – it’s impossible to walk by a big Healey. This beauty is a 1958 100-6.

Inside, it’s almost as beautiful as outside. Note the New Hampshire license plate that was removed for the show.

MGAs are pretty common, but MGA fixed-head coupes are very scarce. This was a very early model MGA (a 1956, only the second year of its seven-year run), and very nicely restored.

A wicker picnic basket half the size of the car? Really? That’s a lot of weight for a 1.5-liter MGA to carry!

At the request of Fiat chairman Giovanni Agnelli, the ubiquitous 600 sedan was given a whimsical makeover to produce the Jolly between 1958 and 1962. Only about 400 were made, originally intended to be carried on owners’ yachts for beach excursions. The few that survive, fringed top and all, are now highly sought after, bringing well into six figures at auction.

But don’t look for any creature comforts inside. This one, a well-restored 1958, has immaculate wicker seats… and no seat belts!

I always liked the looks of the fifties Rileys. This one is a 1952 RMF, powered by the “Big Four” (2.5 liter). Riley, a product of Britain’s Nuffield Group, was swallowed up into British Motor Corporation in 1953, and subsequent cars bearing the Riley name were pretty much Austins and Morrises.

Best in class: a 1956 Jaguar XK140 Fixed Head Coupe, driven to the show by its Rochester-based owners.

So unusual for an XK140, this one was equipped with a Borg-Warner two-speed automatic transmission.

Did someone shrink a 1954 Ford to three-quarters scale? No… this is a 1957 GAZ Volga, one of the first – if not the first – Russian designed-and-built car for ownership by “normal” Russians.

This first-series Volga (so identified by the star in its grille) was restored over an extensive period in Russia and was imported by its current owner, a Russian emigre from Brooklyn, under mysterious circumstances.

And an immaculate and ambitious restoration at that. What’s under the hood is an OHV 2.5 liter four rated about 70 horsepower, pretty typical of European cars of its era.

You can always get good information from a car’s data plate, can’t you?

Inside it looks a little like a Ford, too. The radio, heater, and clock were standard equipment (how lavish!). The only available transmission was the three-on-the-tree.

Out back, other than the flashy two-tone, there’s not much originality here… the taillights look like early-fifties Chrysler and the center reflectors look like late-forties Buick.

Hudson was a featured make, and I’m grateful for the organizers’ decision to feature it – you just don’t see enough Hudsons at shows. This is one of the more lavish Hudsons: a 1929 Model L Super Six sport dual-cowl phaeton, with a custom body by Biddle and Smart. In the foreground, a period pedal car trimmed out to match this prize-winning phaeton.

In 1950, Hudson moved down-market and offered a stripped-down, full-sized car called the Pacemaker, powered by an L-head six instead of the Commodore’s straight-eight. (The Commodore, you’ll recall, was the “Driving Miss Daisy” car.) Pacemakers were fairly popular, and were priced to compete with entry-level cars – but it seems that few survive.

Look inside the Pacemaker and you can readily see where corners were cut. Nothing fancy here.

Now, let’s look at the opposite extreme: the handsome 1952 Commodore Eight convertible.

Plenty of chrome, an automatic, power windows, leather, wire wheels… Hudson was knocking on Cadillac’s door.

My favorite car in this class – it’s a 1941 Commodore Eight convertible. Apart from my love of any red convertible, this one seemed more graceful and more unique than its contemporaries. And an excellent restoration as well: this one took second place in the Hudson category.

Inside, acres of wood graining and an unusual concave panel surrounding the radio.

And something unique: above the glove box, directly in front of the passenger, are warning lights for low oil pressure and battery discharge. Why there? Is the car telling the passenger first, asking the passenger to break it gently to the driver?

“Sweet Sixteen:” this 1916 Hudson 6-40 seven-passenger touring car has been in its owner’s family for 99 years – since it was new!

This 1916 has been serviced and repaired and has had some worn parts replaced – but it has never been extensively restored and it’s substantially original.

Another super eye-catching Hudson – this one is a 1931 T-119 eight-cylinder boat-tail phaeton, one of fewer than ten built. Designed by the legendary designer Ray Dietrich, its body was built by Murray.

Inside the boat-tail Hudson, there’s nothing special at all – something of a surprise.

Of all the wonderful Hudsons made over the years, this is the only one designated as a full classic by the CCCA.

Purely for fun, someone painted this ’51 Hornet to resemble the Paul Newman character Doc Hudson in the movie “Cars.” The intent: to get children to warm up to old cars.

Oh, another story to tell… in 1973, an eccentric entrepreneur in Wisconsin thought it would be a good idea to create a large and lavish vehicle designed for hunting wild animals. The resulting vehicle, often a candidate for the ugliest car ever built, was the Mohs SafariKar. Three prototypes were ultimately built, with doors that extended laterally from the car’s surface (Why? Who knows) and an aluminum body clad with naugahyde. Two of the prototypes survive – this one and one in a museum.

Under the rear deck, seats fold down to provide sleeping space for three.

Inside, a clue to the origin of its chassis: this monstrosity was built on a two-wheel-drive International Travelall platform.

The end of the line for the full-size Studebaker – a 1958 President Starlight Coupe.

Not many of these stylish Studebakers were built, and – thanks to low resale values – I believe very few survive.

Don’t you miss wild paint jobs like this? It’s a 1955 Dodge Custom Royal Lancer convertible, in one family’s ownership since new.

Inside this well-restored Dodge, there’s an artifact that’s unique to 1955 Chrysler products: a transmission selector lever protruding from the dashboard.

A Pontiac like no other: this one is a 1953 Pontiac Pathfinder, a model name only sold in Canada.

It was sold 62 years ago in Saint Hyacinthe, a small town between Montreal and Quebec City.

Funny thing about Canadian Pontiacs… while the front clip is distinctively Pontiac, much of the body is shared with the 1953 Chevrolet – a smaller body than American Pontiacs.  This one, unlike some Canadian Pontiacs, used the Pontiac straight-8, not the Chevy 6.

A spotless restoration of the running gear of a first-year (1960) Corvair.

And the rest of the car isn’t bad, either. It’s a model 700 coupe equipped with Powerglide, a radio, and little else.

A spectacular restoration of a handsome 1963 Studebaker Gran Tursismo Hawk. This one took second prize in the Postwar American class.

And not just any Studebaker Hawk. This one was powered by a 289 with a factory Paxton supercharger.

First prize in Postwar American: a 1957 Olds 98 convertible. (And I have a weakness for red Olds convertibles.)

Something special in this ’57: beneath the batwing air cleaner sits the Olds “J2” option – three two-barrel carburetors.

Just a nifty, handsome, 1954 Chrysler New Yorker hardtop coupe.

Brings back memories! It’s a “basic” model ’71 Gremlin, restored to a very high level of authenticity and detail. (A restoration that undoubtedly cost many times the value of the finished product, but that’s not the point.)

And what constitutes “basic” in a Gremlin? Three-speed floor shift. Rubber mats on the floor. A non-opening glass hatch. Vacuum-powered windshield wipers. Not a single concession to luxury or convenience.

The first year for the Plymouth Sport Fury, 1959 – this one, a remarkable bronze convertible powered by a 361 V8.

Apparently, these cars were personalized with dash plaques.

Subtlety? What’s subtlety? How about that fake spare tire on the deck lid?

No, the Japanese didn’t march into the US market without stumbling a bit. In 1964, Nissan proudly introduced the Cedric, about the size of a Falcon, powered by a 1.9-liter four, with a column-shifted four-speed. And priced like a Cadillac. Not surprisingly, you don’t see many. This one, originally sold in Pennsylvania, is an unrestored 77,000-mile original.

Think back to what luxury cars looked like in America in the mid-60s. This interior was just not going to make it.

Nissan was always the name of the manufacturer – but by 1965, the cars that replaced this one in the US market – small sedans, pickup trucks, and a couple of sports roadsters – would wear the Datsun badge, and retain that name for the next twenty years.

Sublime perfection. The two cars in the 300SL class, in identical red, posed next to the reflecting pool in the center of the grounds.

First, the roadster: it’s a 1961, almost the end of the 300SL production line.

To my eye, it’s just about the perfect sports car – muscular, nicely proportioned, utterly inviting.

And the ’56 Gullwing, one of about 1,400 made between 1955 and ’57. Notice the fitted luggage behind the seats, a factory option. Why? The “trunk compartment” was completely occupied by a 34-gallon fuel tank and a spare tire.

The way Germans used to build performance cars – there’s nothing here that isn’t essential for driving a Gullwing fast. Climate control? Stereo? Cup holders?

On to the full classics. This handsome rumble seat roadster is a 1931 Studebaker President, and it’s the only Studebaker recognized as a CCCA classic.

The Studebaker from the rear – a magnificent restoration. This one was a prize winner in its class.

Another car I had never seen before – a 1928 Gardner 85. St. Louis-based Gardner was founded in 1920 by a former component manufacturer who sold his business to Chevrolet, and began a brief run of high-quality, high-priced 8-cylinder cars. The company folded in 1931. This handsome ’28 is the only Gardner I ever saw.

The “eight in line” was an 85-horsepower unit manufactured by Lycoming.

The instrument panel treatment really says it all – about the quality of the car in its day and the attention to detail of its restoration.

A handsome and well-restored 1947 Cadillac sedanette.

I digress for a moment… as much as I was taken with the ’41 Hudson convertible with its top up, I couldn’t get my eyes off it with the top down.

Another “what the heck” moment – I had to hunt to identify this one. It’s a 1931 DeVaux – and no, I never saw another one.

And here it is, crossing the red carpet with the other class winners. DeVaux was produced in Grand Rapids, Michigan for less than a year, in the 1931-32 model year. The company was the last surviving part of what had been the Durant empire. After producing about 4,000 cars, the company closed its doors and its assets were sold to its engine supplier, Continental.

The proud owning couple and their dog receiving their prize.

Now that’s a Packard. It’s a 1930 734 Speedster, one of seven produced, now owned by a major vendor of auto restoration supplies. Honorary chair Pete Brock said that if he could own any car shown today, he’d choose this Packard.

Quite a bit more sedate, this well-turned out Packard is a 1940 model 160 convertible sedan – a “senior series” eight

And another Packard convertible sedan – an enormous 1935 model 1205.

Another interesting story. In 1957, in the midst of an epic sales battle between Ford and Chevy, Ford executives decided to create a special-purpose car to capture the straight-line speed record at Daytona Beach. With the help of an independent race prep shop, they created four “Battlebirds” – highly modified ’57 T-birds, stripped to a bare minimum, and equipped with a fuel-injected, supercharged 312 V8, bored out to more like 350 cubic inches. One of the Battlebirds set an unofficial record of just over 200 mph (but suffered a mechanical failure on the return run, so the record remains unofficial). The real Battlebirds were all destroyed; this is a faithful recreation, though.

Nothing fancy inside a Battlebird. Fun fact: the shop that created these cars specified a 4-speed manual transmission, and Ford did not make a suitable transmission. So the original Battlebirds, and this recreation, have Moss transmissions, taken from then-contemporary Jaguar XK140s.

Coming across the red carpet, first place in the Hudson category: a 1934 Hudson Eight convertible coupe.

And finally – best in show! Even with a fabulous turnout like this year, a total of 160 cars, there was no doubt in my mind that this would take top honors – a 1937 Chrysler Imperial town car, body by LeBaron, originally built for Walter P. Chrysler’s wife. After decades of indifferent storage, the 25,000 mile car was discovered on Long Island and purchased by its present owner, a prominent collector. Its restoration was completed earlier this year, and it has been collecting best-in-show trophies around the country since then. If you look at my last blog post, this car also took best-in-show at Greenwich this year.

Another great show at Saratoga! More follows…

This is the introductory year of the Ramapo Concours d’Elegance. The turnout was pretty good for a first-year effort, perhaps a hundred cars. Some classes were better represented than others, but it was a good first effort and a welcome addition to the concours calendar.

There is no bad way to look at a Jaguar XK120. From the front, back, sides, inside, underneath… it’s all beautiful. And this one, in a nice subtle burgundy and a good restoration, is among the better-looking ones.

That’s Amy in the background, silently warning me against getting emotionally involved with an old English car.

And it’s as beautiful inside as outside.

One of two identical black Mercedes 190SLs at the show. This one was apparently entered in the show by a local dealer. In production from 1955 to 1963, the 190SL was positioned as the “little brother” to the 300SL – but the 300SL was a fire-breathing tiger of a sports car, and the 190SL was very much a declawed house cat. On a platform derived from the then-current 180 and 190 sedans, it was powered by a carbureted 1.9 liter four, producing 120 horsepower – not too impressive for a 2600-pound car. But the collector car market can’t get enough of these beauties: the going rate for a good one has pushed through the $100,000 mark.

“Funcat” is a 1967 Sunbeam Tiger Mk.II – an Alpine with the 1.7-liter four removed and replaced with a Ford 289. The car’s simple suspension also got some tuning, thanks to the intervention of Carroll Shelby.  Rootes Group imported them from 1964 to 1967 – this is one of the last.

And they stopped building them for a variety of reasons – the most interesting of which was Rootes Group’s acquisition by Chrysler, who found it rather unpalatable to keep selling Ford engines.

This particular Tiger was as attractive as they come, but had been updated to make it more of a driver and less a show car – with a newer model 5-speed transmission, for example.

I think I only counted three or four prewar cars in the whole show, so “best prewar” wasn’t much of an accolade. I’m not sure if this 1930 Aston Martin International was the prize winner, but it sure was the most interesting. The International was a 1 ½ liter overhead cam four, a street car that was used extensively in prewar racing. This particular car was featured in Hemmings Sports & Exotic Car magazine last year.

It sure looks like a Sunbeam Alpine… but it’s a fastback coupe! Sunbeam never offered one like that…

But Harrington did. This is a 1961 Sunbeam Harrington Alpine, one of about 100 Mk. II Alpines modified that year. All of them were sold in the home (UK) market – there was never a left-hand-drive version of this car.

The Harrington modification included a fiberglass (non-removable) hardtop and extensive modification of its rear (steel) bodywork, so that once converted, it could never be converted back. Some of the Harringtons included performance modifications as well – although this one was apparently stock.

There’s something wonderful about a Morgan 4/4 on a sunny spring day.

A Porsche 356 cabriolet for every taste. There were about five in attendance.

Here’s an uncommon badge – “Triumph Gloria.”

To be precise, a 1935 Triumph Gloria Southern Cross, a beautiful little sports tourer that was prominent in prewar racing and rallying. The Southern Cross model was powered by a 1.25 liter Coventry Climax F-head four. (If your memory isn’t extensive – an F-head has an overhead intake valve, operated by a pushrod, and a side-valve exhaust valve operated directly by the camshaft. The last known vehicles to use F-head engines were Rovers through the 1960s and certain Jeeps to 1971.)

A cool feature in the Triumph Gloria: a fold-down windshield, with the option of folding up tiny “LeMans” windshields. This particular Gloria had an interesting history: it was restored by British Leyland (then the parent company of Triumph) in the early 70s, and was then shipped to the US for a promotional tour of Triumph dealerships.

One of the very earliest Beetles to make its way to the US – a 1950, one of about 150 imported by New York’s Max Hoffman, the man who brought VW, Mercedes, BMW, and Alfa Romeo to the US.

Imagine bringing a car to the US in 1950 with a 1.1 liter, 25 horsepower engine; no chrome trim; no heater; no turn signals; cable-operated non-hydraulic brakes; and from Germany, no less, just five years after the end of the war. It’s amazing that VW held on to become the best-selling import for at least a decade.

Oh, and no glove compartment doors, either…

What else could it be but a Messerschmitt! The Messerschmitt Kabinenroller (cabin scooter) was in production from 1955 to 1964, with about 40,000 built. A three-wheeler, it was powered by a 12-cubic-inch, 10 horsepower single cylinder – but with a curb weight of only about 500 pounds, it would actually break 50 mph. After a few years, Messerschmitt was allowed to make airplanes again and the German economy improved so that Germans aspired to a VW, not a cabin scooter. The one shown here is a 1957

Look over the – what is it, steering wheel? Handlebars? Tiller? There’s a factory-equipment radio in here! Just imagine how loud that radio would have to be.

Fun fact about Messerschmitts. They had no reverse gear. To back up, the driver shut off the engine and restarted the engine – backwards! (A position on the ignition switch reversed the starter motor.) That gave the car four speeds forward and four reverse.

Here’s a car I’ve heard of, but probably haven’t seen before. It’s a Goggomobil (I’m not making that up!), probably a 1958 T300. This was considered the “practical” microcar in its day, since it had – sort of – seating for four. Very cozy seating for four, with an overall length just under ten feet. (That’s almost 4 feet shorter than my Miata.) Goggomobil was manufactured by Glas, which made a variety of higher-end cars over the years, and was then acquired by BMW in the late 60s.

Couple of things to point out in this very plush (!) interior. For one thing – note the MPH speedometer. This was likely a US-import car, probably one of very few. For another, look at the strange little shift lever sprouting from the dash – it’s an electric preselector (that is, select your next gear, and when you depress the clutch, a vacuum or electric servo completes the shift for you). This crazy little feature was made by Getrag, which is still in the transmission business. The Goggomobil was powered by a 20-cubic-inch air cooled two-cycle twin, so don’t expect much go-go.

Subaru first came to this country in the late 60s, imported by master marketer Malcom Bricklin. The first Subaru sedans, the odd little 360, was reasonably popular – popular enough for Consumer Reports to call it Not Acceptable. But have you ever seen the van? It’s powered by the same 360cc two-stroke as the sedan, but it has a whole lot more weight to cart around – which is probably why you’ve never seen one. This particular 360 van wasn’t exactly concours condition – note the wood front bumper!

So much more luxurious than the Isetta – the BMW Isetta 600 was also sometimes called “limousine!” a full 4-seater with a side door in addition to the classic front door, its additional weight necessitated a much bigger engine – a 600cc twin rather than a 250cc single. BMW made these for just three years in the late 50s, but fading consumer demand and strong competition from real cars (VW and Mini, to name two) spelled its demise. But they’re still useful for annoying overbearing Beemer owners.

And speaking of Minis… it looks like an Escalade next to the row of microcars. Although they’re basically identical to one another, this one is a Morris Mini Traveler, not the more common Austin Mini.

This nicely restored 356 Speedster was apparently raced in its prime – then restored and returned to street spec, other than the lettering.

I believe that this 1927 Lincoln Model L limousine took best-in-class, but there wasn’t a ton of competition.

Remember, the Porsche Speedster was intended to be the cheapest possible Porsche – so seeing them as plain as this one is faithful to its original design. The idea for the Speedster came from US importer Max Hoffman, who we discussed earlier.

Fun fact: Hoffman originally wanted to call the Speedster “Continental,” but Ford objected.

Precision was the Beverly Hills VW-Porsche dealer in the early days – from the late 50s to about the mid-60s, as far as I can tell. Apart from the insane value of a clean Speedster – you can’t believe what a Precision license plate frame sells for.

A fun show all around… perhaps it could be improved with a few more cars and fewer classes, but it was a great first attempt for new concours organizers.