Color is all around you at the Antique Automobile Club of America’s fall meet in Hershey, Pennsylvania. It jumps out of the asphalt in bright patches. You find it on a ’50s barge draped in improbable Pantone pastels, a blooming garage sign fired in bright primary enamels, or a ruby wand of sunlight refracted through a cloisonne badge or blue-dot tail light lens.
But the color that best describes the expansive Hershey flea market is a bittersweet shade of autumn— the soft red-brown of oxidizing iron and steel.
In the vintage Hershey years of the early ‘70s, when brass and nickel plated survivors from the 1910s and ’20s with meter-high wooden wheels were not yet uncommon, the color of rust was even more prevalent than it is now. Many fewer reproduction parts were available, and rare oxidized castings, carbon-blasted innards, broken brackets and pin holed sheet metal were spread out in their hundreds on beat up collapsible tables that tilted on the muddy undulating fields, to be picked through by owners of arcane marques, haggled over, wrapped in swaddling and lovingly restored in neat basement workshops.
If you didn’t have to wash red dust off your hands upon returning home, no one would believe you had been to Hershey.
Rust, at best, merely colors the edges of things, or rests lightly on the surface where it asks the new owner, “Do you really want to hurt me?” In the day, most rusty cars underwent restoration; few were kept as “survivors”. In fact, the term “patina”, when used to describe an old car, was generally a criticism.
Whoever buys this 1968 Austin-Healey must decide between restoration and preservation. If it truly is a 5600 mile car as claimed (despite the cords showing through the treads) it might be a candidate for the newest wrinkle in the hobby. New rubber and spinning parts, a restored engine compartment, recovered seats and shined up chrome bits would make a striking contrast to its pampered kindred. Given that there has to be a good story attached to that number plate sandwich, “Derelict” might be the class for this baby. One of my old pals used to tell wild tales about weekend passes from The U. S. Naval base at Subic Bay, The Philippines.
And, is that a British plate, minus its chamfered numbers peeking out from under? Sit me down and tell me a tale!
There’s rust, then there’s a rusty look. A rarity in the States, this beautiful ’36 Ford Ute has the traditional brushed on coat of red oxide primer that has been used as a place sitter for final finishing from time immemorial. Seems reasonably priced to me at $12,500 OBO, despite its Ozian driver placement; you can always stick an EZ Pass on the windshield or use a cue stick with gum on its tip to pay tolls. It might not even be that difficult to move the wheel over to the left, given the plethora of Ford parts on the market.
Here’s a rusty mill you would probably want to refinish: a “str-eight” from a ’41 Buick with rare, factory twin-carb setup. By Thursday morning, it was already sold to the happy Hershey patron shown gesticulating about his good fortune in this photo. I don’t know enough to tell whether it’s the smaller 248 cid or big 320 cid eight cylinder, but one thing for sure: it’s got overhead valves. Buick never made a flathead engine, ever. A local garage might even enjoy taking on the project, until they opened up the bottom end and found the cast-in-place babbitt bearings. Horrors!
If you want truly enigmatic engineering that your local mechanic would shake his head at, try the first generation Dubonnet Independent Front Suspension on this ’34 Chevy. Designed by the man who could drink aperitifs for free (and probably did while drawing it up), it was massive and heavy, and the huge lubricant cylinders were likely to leak around the spindles. Chevy recommended checking the oil level every 1000 miles, but few owners bothered, so empty oil cylinders resulted in cars that jumped like gamboling porpoises. This action was exacerbated by the geometry of the design, which prevented inclusion of any kind of anti-dive technology. Though blessed with sprung steering gear and capable of maintaining the maximum contact patch, the system was ill advised for high production cars owned by regular folk. By 1939, Chevy went to conventional A-arm IFS.
How about this little bundle of joy? A two-stroke, three cylinder SAAB engine is just the thing to decorate the corner of your living room, or smoke your honey bees into a calmed state. There’s something winning in its compact size and shape, a mighty mite, Super Mario with the cuteness of a Japanese plush toy.
More red oxide… this time on a trailer. But, also on the trailer, this nifty Nash Statesman, a vehicle that could have preceded the Ford Taurus by 35 years in inspiring Lee Iaccoca’s derisive monicker, “potato car”, but acquired a more fitting nickname, as its shape brought to mind the typical plumbing of its day. When the new Airflyte body was introduced in 1949, the first car could not have been half way along the assembly line before workers started giggling the word, “bathtub”.
This one, in porcelain white, has to be the platonic ideal of the term. It even predicts the “walk-in” tubs with car doors that are being marketed to older folks nowadays. Just flip it over, fill it with water, a capful of Mr. Bubbles and bring your rubber ducky.
It would be just the thing to wash away all that dust—and rust—at the end of a great day in the Hershey flea market.
Great read while slurping my coffee!
Thanks.
Hoo, boy, that Ute is calling my name! One of those grilles would look pretty sharp hanging on my shop wall, too, right next to the PMD OHC 6 valve cover.
That Dubonnet suspension looks interesting, I can’t really tell how it worked from just looking at the pics. Someone here should do an in-depth article about it.
We did, and the author specifically provided the link to it (blue highlighted text). Did you try clicking on it? We make an effort to always provide links to related subjects in any given article.
Here it is: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1936-chevrolet-master-deluxe-its-too-early-for-a-dubonnet/
Did the smaller Buick straight eight ever come with dual carbs (from the factory)? My guess is not, but I could be wrong.
I would really like that Chrysler station wagon, btw. I think those are one of the most desirable wagons ever.
Maybe a Buick expert could chime in on this one.
That Chrysler reminds me of a friend I have who owns has a house that is the ideal hideaway for a car guy; he’s got an old school hydraulic lift in his garage. Sitting on it, 6 feet off the floor for at least 20 years has been a gorgeous 1955 DeSoto wagon. These cars are even prettier inside than out, and more so in the “way back” than the passenger area: behind the tailgate there’s a beautifully finished cargo area with chrome strips everywhere. I think some even have finished wooden floors.
The guy rotates the engine with a wrench on the main pulley nut every so often, but the car never comes down off its perch.
That baffles me a little. I know people have many reasons for owning old cars that don’t go anywhere (I have one myself, two if you count the Volvo that has been stationary for the past 3 months). But that usually has to do with them being inoperable. If the wagon is as nice as described, I do wonder what’s the point of keeping it like a caged animal, not even brought out for shows?
I suppose it could be seen as a personal garage ornament, if he spends a significant amount of time out there…
The twin carb Buick was invariably a Century, the small Special body with the big 320ci engine.
For all the Buick friends (and belonging to the national Buick club) I had back when I had my ’37 Special, I’d never seen the big straight eight with the factory dual carb setup. My understanding is that they were gas hogs, and most of them got converted over to the standard single carb setup during the gas rationing of WWII.
The two tone wagon is gorgeous. I’m jealous of whoever she goes home with.
Chevy went away from the knee action suspension in 39, however GMs British cars Vauxhall kept a similar system in use untill the 52 Model, I had a 51 Velox with knee action quite useless on the gravelled roads that prevailed here once you left the main highway in the 70s but kinda weird in that the front of the car rose with braking, built in anti dive,
Nothing wrong with cast babbit bearings at least they can be worked with a scraper and refitted successfully, try that with shell bearings. Next try finding someone who knows how.
Nice-looking old ute! It seems strange that whoever went to the effort of importing it did not get it on the road. You hardly ever see one in Australia.
On the Austin Healey, it looks like a registration plate mounting plinth, not the plate itself.
I too miss the Hershey mud. It’s just a bit too antiseptic with the whole thing on tarmac now…
I wore that mud proudly every time I helped push somebody’s car out of it. Remember the hay they would throw done on top of it, Mike? Stunk a bit!
Now that I’m older, it’s probably easier without all the hills. They graded it nearly flat when they paved it. However, the trade off is that the asphalt is pretty hard on your legs after a day’s walking.
Wow, don’t think I’ve ever seen a 55 Chrysler in that color combo. That wagon up top is stunning.
I love strolling through swap meets to see some of the oddball stuff that is offered for sale.
+1
Fun read, with lots of great obscura photos! Makes me want to find a swap meet to wander around, though Hershey would be a bit of a drive.