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Riding Along in my Automobile
6th June, 2006
What more fitting symbol of America exists than a car on the open road? The automobile is so inextricably intertwined with the American identity, it's no wonder car collecting is such a widespread phenomenon. Classic cars especially hold value, not only for their beauty and rarity, but also for the nostalgia, history and craftsmanship they bring to a progressive, transitory, disposable society.
"They just did things differently in those days," said Bob Eilert, an Edmonds resident who currently owns six restored classic vehicles. "The automobile is what made the United States the United States," he continued, adding that Henry Ford's introduction of mechanization brought America into the 20th century, indirectly affected many other industries and created jobs.
"Car collecting wasn't fashionable until the 1950s," Eilert said. "Until then they were just old cars."
As people became more interested in cars, though, they also became more interested in the nostalgia associated with that time period, such as the clothing, the music and different car-related paraphernalia, like vintage gas pumps, tire advertisements and oil cans. Most classic car collectors line the walls of their garages with the relics of a rosy past. Eilert's wife, Becky, likes to call them "antique boys with antique toys."
More than just toys, though, cars can be meaningful in different ways. Eilert has a rare 1947 Mercury Woody Station Wagon that has won 10 Dearborn Awards, the highest honor at meets. While he and Becky enjoy taking cars to meets and winning awards, their fondest memories are of those same trips that were also family vacations when they drove the Woody with two kids in the back and a trailer pulling the luggage. They have stickers on the back window from Utah, California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, Canada and Idaho.
"There's something about driving down the road listening to '40s and '50s music in a Woody that just takes you back," Becky said with fondness.
Now that their children are grown, their son wants to restore a car with his dad. After 14 restorations, what's one more car?
It all began with Eilert's first car, a 1931 Ford Model A that he got at age 16 in 1962, chosen by his father for its non-racing ability. Eilert restored the car in 1977 and "then the disease kind of caught fire," he said with a smile. After that he bought and restored another Model A, but when his family grew too big for the petite vehicle, he bought and restored a buttery yellow 1948 Ford Convertible, which the family lovingly dubbed "Driving Miss Daisy."
It was downhill from there as the next few years brought the Woody, a Sportsman Woody Convertible, which has since been sold, a 1954 Pickup named "Howard," the restoration of Becky's high school graduation gift, a bright orange 1965 Mustang named "Sally," and a 1932 Roadster called "Highboy," or simply, "The Boy." Eilert also has a 1969 Mustang that he purchased new and named "True Blue" because it never left him afoot after 216,000 miles.
It is easy to see Eilert has a special fondness for cars in general and classic cars in particular. He did much of the restoration work himself, but for some of the more complicated or specialized work, he relied on the expertise of others.
"That's the beauty of being in a club," Becky said. "There's always a resource."
Eilert, a full-time dentist, works on his cars in the evenings and weekends and in fact just finished the Roadster last month.
"He pretty much lives, breathes and dreams it when he's working on a project," Becky said good-naturedly.
That feverish devotion is not uncommon. Lynnwood resident Mike Dermond has a garage filled with disembodied engines, empty, unpainted shells and spare parts, all in various states of repair. It all started many years ago.
"I got my first car when I was 12," Dermond said. "I have always been a tinkerer."
He mowed lawns to buy parts for his 1930 Model A and drove it through high school, when he sold it and bought a 1955 Chevy Convertible. He has had 15 1955 Chevy Convertibles since then. All together, "I've had over a hundred cars," he said, many of which he simply bought, restored and sold. "I get a lot of satisfaction from finishing one. That's why I've sold them. I finish and start another. It's pretty satisfying to fix something someone else gave up on."
The engines and transmissions are easy, he said, simple, precise and his favorite aspect of restoration, but good body parts are hard to find and can be expensive.
Dermond spent five years restoring a 1932 Roadster. This particular vehicle is especially rare because it was made at the height of the Depression when most people weren't buying cars, let alone sports cars. For that reason, very few were actually made, which makes original parts quite hard to come by. Having original parts is important at a meet because judges check everything on a restored vehicle, down to the original bolts used, and award or dock points accordingly.
Dermond has put about $20,000 into the Roadster and has done all the work himself. Now the car is worth about $100,000.
Would he ever sell it?
"It will be for sale at my estate sale," he said, laughing. "The ones I've got now I'd like to keep."
Dewey Landis of Shoreline, on the other hand, will probably end up selling his black 1941 Ford Sedan Coupe and his maroon 1941 Ford Convertible.
Before tackling the restoration of his current cars, he practiced on a 1950 Ford Pickup. Then, for 10 to 12 hours a day over two years, he did a body-off complete restoration of his stunning Convertible. He "took her down to bare bones," he said. For the Coupe, he took it all apart and worked from the ground up.
"I try to keep them pretty much stock," Landis said. "You make them like Henry did. I went to great pains to do the best job I could. I wanted to build a show car."
The effort paid off as his Convertible won a Dearborn Award at the Victoria, B.C. meet in 1996. He received 984 out of 1,000 possible points.
At $960 off the showroom floor in 1941, the car is now worth $40,000. For all of these men, though, it's not about the money.
"It's a lot of hard work to tear one of these apart and put it back together," Landis said. "It's a labor of love. It has to be because you sure don't make any money at it."
Whereas a $39,040 value increase might sound like a cash cow, the time put in and the money spent on parts, close to $25,000 in Landis' case, hardly even out.
Over all, though, restoring cars is a good experience for those who pursue it.
"It was good therapy while I was in retirement. I needed something to do anyway. It was a good vocation to keep me off the streets and out of the pool halls," Landis said with a twinkle in his eye. Plus, "it's fun to drive down the street and turn people's heads."
The Early Ford V-8 Club is the largest classic car club in America, promoting the restoration, preservation and utilization of Ford Motor Company vehicles manufactured during the years 1932 through 1953. The Puget Sound Regional Group, of which Eilert, Dermond and Landis are members, is hosting the 2006 National Meet this year for the first time in the Puget Sound Area. It will take place in Tacoma Aug. 7 through 11.
The local club has been planning for three years for the weeklong event, which is expected to attract 400 to 500 cars from across the U.S. and Canada. On Wednesday of that week, all of the cars will be on display on the lawn at Point Defiance Park for Concourse Day.
In addition to playing show and tell, one day will be spent touring to Mount Rainier, one day they will take a private ferry ride around Puget Sound and one day they will journey to the home of the late Harold LeMay, whose classic car collection in Tacoma is the largest in the world. LeMay donated more than 2,000 cars to the City of Tacoma, which will soon build a museum to house them.
Eilert is chairman of the concourse for this year's meet. He loves seeing all the cars parked in neat rows being admired by visitors. But the best part of the meet is actually driving the car there.
"People in these clubs drive their cars. They're not afraid to take them out in the rain," Eilert said, mentioning that those who transport their cars in trailers are not regarded as highly by their peers.
Another thing he and Becky like about the meets is the common bond all of the owners share, regardless of income or the size of their homes.
"You don't have to be a millionaire to drive a Ford," Eilert said, and Becky added that it's very blue collar--ordinary people with ordinary incomes.
"It's the love of cars and the mystique that comes with it," she said. In the company of car collectors you never have to search for a topic of conversation.
Url:
http://www.efv8psrg.com/
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