Master of Arts - 1936 Pontiac Master Six cabriolet

When the five-year restoration of his 1936 Pontiac Master Six Convertible was completed, Bob Shafto sat down and wrote a thank-you note to each person who made a significant contribution. By the time he was finished, he must have had a good case of writer's cramp: His thank-you notes were addressed to dozens of specialists and hobbyists in 23 states and three foreign countries.

Among those many thank-yous was a particularly heartfelt one addressed to the Rossville, Georgia, mailbox of a gentleman named Hundley Acuff. Hundley is one of the unsung heroes of the hobby, an artist whose work was the finishing touch of Bob's restoration. Hundley's specialty is in making running boards, or, more accurately, molding and applying the synthetic rubber covering to the steel boards. That he came out of a 10-year retirement as a mold maker to help complete the restoration of the Master Six says as much about his approach to his craft as it does about Bob's persuasiveness in his dedication to the Pontiac's restoration. It's also a good example of the challenges that must be overcome in restoring such a seldom-seen car as Bob's, one of three restored 1936 Master Six convertibles that he knows to exist.

Bob had no way of foreseeing that the running boards would become the bête noire of his restoration project on that happy day in 2002 when the newly purchased convertible arrived at his home in Falmouth, Maine. In Part I of our story in last month's HCC #40, we told the story of how Bob arranged with the talented Ken Clark of Ken's Classics in Pittsfield, Maine, to divide up the work, with Bob doing what he refers to as the "grunt work" in Ken's shop, and Ken handling the more demanding tasks. This month, we'll follow the restoration through to its successful conclusion.

With the body refinished and the engine, gearbox and other mechanical components restored to as-new condition, it was time for Bob and Ken to turn their attention to the car's interior. Though the car had been given an amateur restoration at some point in the past, it had deteriorated, and there were many details that were incorrect--details that could not escape the critical eye of Bob, who has been steeped in 1936 Pontiacs since 1965, when he bought a Master coupe as his first car (he still has it).

Bob knew that, although the Master was at the bottom of Pontiac's pecking order in 1936, the convertibles were all fitted with Deluxe interiors, with deluxe fabrics and patterns, chrome escutcheons for the door handles and window cranks, and brown dashboard knobs in place of the Master's black knobs.

The seat bottom had been incorrectly rebuilt and was beyond salvage, but Bob had a spare seat bottom from a parts car. "Fortunately, the back was okay, because they're unique to the convertible," he said. A seat kit for the car was not available, but Hampton Coach of Amesbury, Massachusetts, was able to supply the correct tan Bedford Cord upholstery, which was made into seat covers and installed by Leo's Custom Upholstery of Auburn, Maine. Leo's also stitched the door panels, which were mounted to cardboard backings made by Ken.

The rumble seat was more of a puzzle; the car came with a handmade set of cushions that were clearly not what the factory would have made. Bob eventually made contact with the owner of a 1936 Buick who agreed to loan his seat springs to Schneider's Antique Auto of New Springfield, Ohio, so that an identical set could be produced for the Pontiac. They were upholstered in leatherette, also supplied by Hampton Coach.

The dashboard panels were sent out to Grain-It Technologies of Winter Haven, Florida, to have new woodgraining applied. "I was told they are the best in the country at what they do, and wasn't disappointed when I saw their work," Bob said. "They are fabulous." His research materials showed that the windshield garnish moldings were originally woodgrained as well, and so these were also sent to Grain-It.

Williamson's Instruments of Chester, Arkansas, lubricated the speedometer and reset the odometer, but the remainder of the gauges needed no attention. Ken refinished the dashboard itself in the original Beaver Brown, a shade similar to the car's Martini Brown paintwork.

Bob sourced a firewall insulation pad from QuietRide Solutions of Stockton, California. QuietRide did not have a pattern for the 1936 Pontiac, but was able to create one using measurements supplied by Bob. The floor for the rumble seat area was covered in ribbed vinyl sourced from Restoration Supply Company of Escondido, California. The passenger compartment received a new, correct reproduction floor mat as well, supplied by Bob's Automobilia of Atascadero, California.

The Master Six had arrived with no rollup side windows and no mechanisms in the doors. Bob had the correct mechanisms among the spare parts he had collected over the years, but before they could be installed, Ken had to redo the wooden framework inside the doors, using Bob's 1936 coupe for guidance. The car had come with a set of cast aluminum window frames, which proved to be unusable--unfortunately, not before Bob had had them milled to accept the vent windows. Ken fabricated a new pair from steel.

Bob had had new side and vent windows cut shortly after buying the car, but they, too, proved to be unuseable--and the company that made them refused to take them back. "That's one thing I learned: Don't go out and buy stuff ahead of time, unless it's original old stock. Don't have things made, don't have things cast," Bob said. "I bought a number of things that, as it turned out, I didn't need." For example, he had four sunvisor mounts cast, assuming they would be impossible to find, and then discovered the parts he needed on a junkyard car.

The reassembly of the rest of the car was a long, painstaking and, ultimately, satisfying process. "You can mess up a car easily in that process; you can slip and scratch paint," Bob said. "It's tempting to rush it, because you really want to see it done. But there's a sequence to it--you have to put A in before B, or you'll never get the headlamp switch in, for example." He worked away at reassembling the car at Ken's shop, patiently undoing and redoing his work when he found that he had taken steps out of order. "It was the best part of the work, seeing it all come back together," Bob said.

All back together but for one detail, that is. When he brought the car home, driving it the 90 miles from the shop to his house, it was still missing its running boards. Though Bob had sent them out to be restored in January 2005, and had put down a $1,000 deposit, here he was, 18 months later, still waiting for their return. The specialist--we're not going to identify him, other than to say he's no longer in business--provided nothing but an endless stream of excuses and empty promises over the months. For Bob, the last straw came when the specialist claimed he had finally finished the boards, but had dropped one, forcing him to start over.

A visit to the specialist's shop, more than 1,000 miles away, was out of the question, so Bob, exasperated, turned to a fellow Pontiac-Oakland Club International member who lived 20 miles from the shop in question. If you've ever wondered why you should join a club, you won't find a better answer than this. This "wonderful guy," someone Bob had called "out of the blue," went to the shop, found the landlord, persuaded him to open the doors, and retrieved Bob's running boards. His $1,000 deposit, though, was gone for good. "It's the only time in 40 years of owning 1936 Pontiacs that I've had any trouble," Bob said.

There's not even the benefit of hindsight; Bob had gotten excellent referrals, but what no one knew was that the shop had recently changed hands. The episode has had no effect on Bob's approach to the hobby, though. "I just can't go through life thinking people are dishonest. That just isn't any way to live," he said.

Bob had his running boards back, but he still needed to have them restored. Which brings us back to Hundley Acuff. Bob had known that Hundley was in the business, and had asked him about doing the Pontiac's boards, only to learn that Hundley did not have the right mold for the job. Now he found himself pleading with the craftsman to take on the challenge.

"He said, 'Well, you know, I haven't done a new mold in 10 years, and I'm retired,' " Bob recalled. "I thought he was getting ready to say no. Then he said, 'I'll do it, but I'll have to charge you $600 a board.' I had gotten ripped off for $1,000 a board." All Hundley asked was that Bob come up with seven other orders, a request he easily met though his friends in the Pontiac world.

Bob had two sets done, one for the convertible, and one for the coupe. The coupe's boards went on with no trouble, but the convertible's were more of a challenge, because the bodywork needed to be tweaked to get them to fit. He succeeded with the passenger-side board, but needed to bring the car back to Ken to have the other fitted. "In the end, it took a horizontal hydraulic jack to get it all lined up," he related. "Some things you don't want to know about."

Bob drives the convertible at least once a week, putting 2,500 miles on its fresh odometer. "The car's never been trailered since it's been done--I don't own a trailer," he said. "I'll drive it right up until the snow flies."

Although it cannot claim the same place in his heart as the coupe he's owned for more than 40 years, the convertible is a rewarding car. "I'm glad I did it, and I'm glad the car now is preserved. And I think I can say that it's the best example of its kind in the country."

PHOTO 1

New window frames were fabricated from steel, and fitted with new glass; the owner's 1936 Pontiac coupe was used as a model for the fitting of door mechanisms and wooden supports

PHOTO 2

The plywood floorboards that came with the car were attached using countersunk screws. Floorboard inserts were lined with felt to keep down noise and road dust

PHOTO 3

Brown leatherette, sourced from Hampton Coach, was used to construct the flaps covering the storage compartments behind the seats, and to line the well for the folding top

PHOTO 4

A reproduction generic GM rubber floor mat, correct for this car, was installed; note the firewall pad, just visible below the dashboard, and the woodgrain on the dashboard and windshield molding

PHOTO 5

Ribbed rubber matting was cut to fit the area behind the front seats, using a paper pattern as a guide; the same material was cut and pieced together for the floor of the rumble seat area

PHOTO 6

Using aerosol trim adhesive, the upholstered door panels were carefully glued to the cardboard door panels; door panels are not being reproduced, so these had to be custom made

PHOTO 7

The seats were reupholstered in Bedford Cord cloth, in the correct "button and suspenders" pattern; the deteriorated bottom seat frame was replaced with a similar piece from a parts car

PHOTO 8

The old rubber was removed from the running boards with a chisel and mallet. The boards were then cleaned up with a belt sander, sandblasted, and shipped to a specialist for refinishing

PHOTO 9

Some welding was needed to make the running boards useable. Sharp-eyed readers will notice that these are both for the passenger side; Bob had a pair refinished for his 1936 coupe, too

PHOTO 10

The synthetic rubber was bonded directly to the steel, in a mold made especially for the purpose. The underside was painted with Bill Hirsch Auto's tough Miracle Paint to prevent rust

PHOTO 11

Rubber had to be trimmed with a penknife to allow the running boards to fit properly; mounting holes were filled with rubber in the refinishing process and had to be drilled out

PHOTO 12

A bit of lumber helped to persuade the radiator shell, hood, cowl and front fenders to line up properly. "One of the things I learned is that it's not all finesse stuff," the owner said

Owner's View

"I guess what attracts me most to these cars is their classic Art Deco styling, especially on the coupes. 1936 was the apex of that styling era. To my eye, nearly all 1936 cars are very good looking.

"Owning them also gives me a connection to the now-departed adult men in my life. My father and uncles all came of age during the Depression, fought in World War II and owned or aspired to own cars like these when they were young. Just looking at them brings back lots of stories told around the dinner table, like my uncle's old '35 Ford roadster that had a beach umbrella for a top.

"And finally, I find them fun to drive. They are 'modern' enough to go down the road smoothly, are able to keep up with traffic, and handle and brake well enough to make driving them fun. We've taken them to shows several hundred miles away and, come retirement, we'll enjoy touring in them. I wouldn't hesitate to drive cross-county in either one, although I would be sure to bring my tools and spare parts! Parts are readily available and inexpensive, and the cars are easy to work on."

-- Bob Shafto