35 ROLLS-ROYCE (20/25)
In about 1969 Carolyn and I took a vacation which included
a stay at Lake Tahoe. Our lovely poodle "Boo" went with us. We stayed
on the South end of the lake close to Harrah's hotel and casino. Mr. Harrah
was a magnet for all of the old car enthusiasts of the world because of his
famous collection in Reno. He had a big old car from the '20s in a glass room
in front of the casino at Lake Tahoe. The lake area was a favorite place for
old car buffs to meet for several day events. It happened that the Antique Car
Club was there when we were. There were scores of old brass bound cars from
the teens and twenties putting around. Names like White, Case, Stanley, American
Underslung, Reo, mixed with Ford, Buick, Cadillac etc. Many of the cars were
over six feet tall. The ladies were dressed in dusters and many of the men wore
goggles. Carolyn took a real interest in the cars and suggested that it might
be nice to have one and join the car clubs to have fun. That was our undoing!
We were never the same.
Dad and mother were living in Sawyerville,
Illinois. Compared to the West coast where virtually every available
old car is in the hands of a collector, the middle west still
had cars available. We asked dad to start looking. He turned up
model A's and T's all around the area and there was even an Auburn
right across the street until just before the hunt started. The
local Chevrolet dealer had a '41 Cheve coupe and an early '40s
Buick and a '35 Rolls Royce stored behind the show room. An old
gentleman in Gillespie had a one owner twenties vintage Velie
that was occasionally seen on the road. There was an old Reo in
Staunton. (It is still there about 1/2 mile from Marv). There
were scores of forties and fifties cars.
We had a yen for something that we could
drive and was big. Dad scanned the St. Louis Post Dispatch for
adds. There were many. One that caught his eye was for a '35 Rolls-Royce
in St. Louis. He went to have a look. It ran well but the body
work was pretty sad. The gentleman that owned it did not have
anywhere to store it. The car had been brought into the country
a few years earlier by a relative living in Silver Springs, Md.
It had been driven to St. Louis and traded for an old Cadillac
to get the car out of the hands of the man's mother. She was too
old to drive it and they talked her into giving it up for the
Rolls-Royce which she couldn't drive at all.
Dad took pictures of the interior and exterior.
It had power brakes, centralized chassis lube, a 12 volt electrical
system and all kinds of other "European" goodies. He
started to negotiate. The owner finally accepted an offer of $3000
dollars and I wired the money to dad. We now had a real live Rolls-Royce.
Carolyn's niece was getting married in
Des Moines. We decided to go back for the wedding and to visit
and then drive the car to California. Carolyn took a plane ride
back to California. I drove the '71 Jaguar to Illinois and looked
over the Rolls. I was not too thrilled. It had about the power
of a Crosley with five tons of sand in the trunk. It was pretty
well beat on the inside and out. But there was no obvious damage
and it ran OK. We did what we could to prepare her for the trip
to California. That amounted to changing the oil, checking the
tires, burnishing the points and plugs and shoving off. We took
turns driving. She leaked oil so badly that by the time we were
well into Missouri there were oil trails out of both sides of
the hood vents and onto the doors and running board. In due time
we discovered that we were over filling the sump. The ingenious
British used a cork float to run a pointer on the side of the
sump to indicate oil level. We were a bit pessimistic and the
pointer was also. The net result was an overfill of about a gallon
(US) at all times. It didn't hurt anything but sure made a mess.
We had four mechanical mishaps on the road
to California. Number one was when a bolt fell out that held on
the rear license plate. I guess we could hardly blame that on
Rolls-Royce. The second came when the electric windshield wipers
refused to operate somewhere in Oklahoma. This was not the first
experience with Lucas "the prince of darkness". We stopped
in the shelter of an ancient gas station overhang to check the
wiper motor out. When it was spun by hand it took off and never
stopped again--not even for the next twenty years.
Our real hair raising incident happened
also in Oklahoma. I drove over a railroad that crossed the road
at an angle of about 15 degrees. The car went into a violent steering
oscillation that could not be controlled until braking brought
the car to a near stop. It scared me to death. We looked the car
over in some detail. We shook the wheels, banged the steering
joints, kicked the tires, etc. Nothing appeared wrong. On I drove
with white knuckles. Nothing happened again. I wonder what that
was all about and found out later that it was a characteristic
of the vehicle.
As we reached the continental divide, dad
was driving the Rolls and I was following in the Jag. It was time
to stop for fuel. We came to a crossroad with two gas stations.
The nearest one was brand new and modern. The other one was old,
dilapidated and had a bunch of Indians standing out front drinking
beer. It was only about noon. Wouldn't you know where dad would
stop. Right in the middle of the Indian population. They were
all dressed in Viet Nam fatigues. The smallest guy must have weighed
at least 240. They announced that we were going to take them on
to the next trading post and climbed in the Rolls. It was my turn
to drive so, fearing for my scalp, away we went. They talked to
each other in Navajo all the way to the next stop. When they got
out they hijacked a buck each from us for the privilege of driving
them. One of the guys said goodbye and commented that he never
knew that Packard ever made a right hand drive car. I did not
correct him but pulled away as soon as I could.
Finally we had a flat tire about 20 miles from our destination.
We put on the spare and that also went flat in about five miles. Dad drove in
to Corona and got a 19 inch motorcycle tube fitted to the tire and we tried
again. We made another few miles and that went down. We gave up and got a wrecker.
He picked the car up by the rear end. That meant he had to make a "U"
turn on the Riverside freeway to get positioned. Then the guy drove off with
the car against the traffic and made a second "U" turn in the Riverside
freeway traffic. Gray hair. The rest of the trip was uneventful and he only
charged about $10 because he was interested in the whole affair. The whole neighborhood
turned out to see the 'Mafia' car.
The restoration took several years -- in fact it will never really be done.
But the car has been rebuilt from the ground up, the engine overhauled, the
brightwork has been refinished and the interior redone in the original material
from the original sources -- Conley leather and Wilton wool rugs and fabric.
It is capable of being driven anywhere -- if you are not in a hurry.
Here are a couple more pictures taken in front of the house.
That is the faithful Chevy pickup across the street.
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