From the cohort, by canadiancatgreen
I had finished my shift at the Florida theme park I was working at for that summer. It was close to sunset and the shuttle to the interns’ compound had parted not long ago. The station was lonely, with only myself and a Latino gal standing at the end of the boarding platform. There may have been one or two more workers sitting in the waiting area, can’t quite recall. Still, most seats around were empty and the station was silent; each of us had our minds in reaching home.
A large parking lot extended before us, and on its edge a narrow stretch of green trees blocked the horizon line. Above us, the usual Floridian cloudy sky. It was my second month as intern and was still getting used to the peculiar geography of the state. Or better said, non-geography. Florida being a young territory –in the geological sense- had no mountains, nor hills anywhere, just a monotonous horizon line comprised of medium height trees that stretched forever.
The interns’ compound in Orlando.
We waited. The girl on the platform was thin and short, with curly reddish-dyed hair, and a baseball cap covering her gaze. She seemed immersed in her own world and her body language didn’t invite approaching. First time I ever saw her, not strange considering the park hired thousands. I looked at her with more care, she was rather attractive in a ‘girl next door’ kind of way. She didn’t seem like an intern though, more like a full time employee.
Few months before, when I had agreed to join the internship program, I hadn’t anticipated what a surreal experience was to live in a theme park. It was to experience firsthand the odd luxuries of our age; that of families around the world with disposable income, travelling to a made-up magical land to experience cheap thrills. For those visitors each day was a magical once-in-a-lifetime experience; to us, all a predictable daily routine.
The quietness of the evening was suddenly broken as a rumbling engine approached in the distance. The shuttle? Not quite. Some loud vehicle was coming towards the boarding ramp; slowly, chugging along, spewing a thin cloud of smoke into the air. The Latino gal perked up, clutching her backpack tightly and stretching her upper body in attention. Her ride had arrived, but what was it?
As the vehicle slowly approached, the faded mustard coloring became apparent. Some American beater from the Ford-Nixon era? The engine was an 8 cylinder in rough condition, one could tell that from the distance. Then, the glistening radiator became apparent. Some junky late 70’s Lincoln? It was going to take a few more seconds to figure it out, as the car wasn’t in a rush; it advanced with the urgency of a wounded earthworm.
No Spirit of Ecstasy on the Cuban Silver Shadow. From the cohort, by William Rubano.
The Latino girl took a few steps towards the edge of the platform. As the car got close, it became clear; it was a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow, with hardly any silvery qualities left. Inside, it seemed her whole Cuban family had come to pick her up: Oversize sweaty dad at the wheel, mom riding on the passenger seat, younger bro in the back seat, and if memory serves me, little granny in the back. The two tone (light brown on brown) faded British wonder slowed down, smoking the area, with the girl walking briskly to board. It was a surreal scene, rather fitting in what had been a less than ordinary summer.
I absorbed the scene; the whole family jollily picking their little girl in their faded luxurious ride: faded 70’s correct paint scheme, raggedy vinyl brown top, some missing trim, and loud mechanicals. I can swear they were listening to salsa, but I’m pretty sure that’s my mind playing tricks, I doubt the radio worked. Passenger onboard, the worn out Crewe jewel left in the same lackadaisical pace as it had arrived.
In the pecking order of luxury brands, we pretty much know (by anecdotal evidence, of course!) how each meets its fateful end: Lincolns and Cadillacs tend to crowd the slums, riding in poor condition until they rust their souls away. Audis just get tossed away, Jaguars (post 1970) too. BMWs have mixed fates, some preserved to posterity, while others end in the hands of eager Fast and the Furious wannabes, busting them (same fate of Japanese luxury rides). Old Mercedes hang as family heirlooms, while those built after the 90’s suffer ignominious unbecoming ends. But Rolls Royces? Those generally have only two fates: preservation for eternity in the hands of the posh, or discarded in junkyards. There’s rarely anything in between. Poor running Rolls Royces do not exist… or do they?
American iron in Cuba, by Riveranotario.
Cubans are notorious for their resilience against adversity and the creative ways they overcome hardship. That the island is the unlikeliest place for a large repository of still-in-daily-use 1950’s American iron is what resounds most with us, motor heads. For years, Cubans had come up with all kinds of homely solutions to keep their precious American cars in motion: vinegar and home cooking oil mixes for brake fluid (really!), and illegal repair shops where metal and aluminum sheets are manually beaten to replace those impossible to obtain foreign body panels.
How our faded Silver Shadow came into the hands of these tinkering Floridian Cubans? Maybe some Versace ride given in kind to some hot Latino lover? However the Crewe jewel came into the hands of these Revolucion refugees we’ll never know, but someone in the family must have been quite the mechanic; all kinds of resourceful thinking must have been used to keep the old Brit in disgraceful working order. For any Rolls, such a fall from grace is beyond the pale, but Cuban dad was probably very glad to have a ride to boast about with his neighbors. Thanks to American prosperity, he now had a ride that even the Batista regime would have envied.
This Silver Shadow is a long way from Florida. From the cohort by William Rubano.
That the 1959 Cuban revolution had tremendous repercussions around the world is almost an understatement. Concurrently, a revolution of sorts was taking place at Rolls Royce’s headquarters where work on the ‘revolutionary’ Silver Shadow was ongoing. By the 50’s, Rolls Royce’s fate hanged in the balance, as their old style of chauffeuring motoring was becoming a dying breed, and new models were needed that appeased a want for more involved motoring, while retaining the air of nobility the marque was known for. It took about a decade of development to reach the Silver Shadow’s launch in 1965 (More on those events on Tatra87’s take on the Silver Shadow).
The off the cuff Cuban maintenance program was probably the furthest thing from Rolls Royce’s original intentions; as it’s one of the few marques that has enjoyed a long tradition in training drivers and chauffeurs in proper factory-approved maintenance. Around 1912, Mr. Royce showed concerns of their vehicles being returned too often for repair. Figuring that some damage was being done by poor maintenance, a school was put in place to train in the Rolls Royce way of caring for vehicles. Since then, the school has been an ongoing effort, occasionally interrupted by a world war here and there (or some management reshuffling).
Rolls Royce’s School of Instruction at Seleng House.
The School of Instruction -as it was originally known- changed location a few times throughout the years (More on one of those early locations here). That said, the program’s content remained pretty steady since inception: a 5-12 day course, with 70% time dedicated to maintenance and 30% aimed to driving techniques, all in the effort into keeping the brand the poshest of the posh.
On the maintenance front, lessons revolved around the car’s mechanicals and its daily up keeping. Washing and cleaning was its own extensive ritual; from what materials to use to the correct order of the process. Passenger care was extensively attended: the way to adjust rearview mirrors to minimize eye contact, the right amount of interaction to be had, the way to dress and present one’s self. Also, how to tend to passengers as they boarded (ladies and men are to board differently, just so you know).
Obtaining a Certificate of Merit was no small feat.
To paraphrase Anthony Hopkins on The Remains of the Day, the job of “the chauffeur is for the passenger to never notice there’s a chauffeur.” With that in mind, on the driving front, attention was placed on how to drive with prowess while doing so in a ‘dignified’ way (harder to do than you think on daily traffic!). Braking techniques were emphasized in order to avoid blush-inducing dives. As these techniques were mastered, certificates were handed to those that wished to persevere in the effort. It took a few good years to get one, as the company made sure the applicant’s record adhered to Rolls Royce’s education.
To this day, the tradition hasn’t died, as the school was revived in 2011. Nowadays known as the White Glove program, in modernity it attends details as: the proper placing of AC vents for passenger comfort, the proper presentation of seatbelts (not messy!), and the placement of Evian bottles at easy reach; among others.
Cuban dad probably never knew much about Rolls Royce’s-approved maintenance details. Not that he would have cared much. A bucket of Tide water undoubtedly sufficed for the car’s cleaning ritual, and that Connolly leather probably ended under Walmart seat covers eventually. Never mind. Luxury is nothing but an idea; comprised of a mix of wealth of means and of time, ever changing in time and place. Hythe road might have disapproved, but some dancers in Calle 8 probably had a ball of a time riding the faded Silver Shadow.
More on the Silver Shadow:
1975 Silver Shadow Nothing Shines Like a Shadow – by Tatra87
A great story!! One correction though: The Remains of the Day actor was Anthony Hopkins, not Anthony Perkins. The latter was in Psycho … not quite the same 😀
that substitution would make an interesting alternative. “remains of the….mother?”
That’s a funny slip up from my part. Odd, since I’ve watched a good number of Mr. Hopkins movies and The World Fastest Indian more times than I care to admit. I guess the dormant spirit of Anthony Perkins came out of my subconscious all of the sudden. Maybe I should check with a therapist.
lololol Yes, a tad a difference there!
I do have to reread this post, but despite me being from the pacific northwest, I have many relatives in south Florida. Spent more than a few hours there in the early ’80s, and yes at the time finding beat luxury cars in Miami was not a problem. Most I imagine DEA seizures sold at police actions…ever hear a 12 cylinder Ferarri run on 8 cylinders? I did, in Miami. The city cocaine built.
Wish I could remember the title on the film, but there’s an interesting little documentary on YouTube regarding the proliferation of exotic and high end luxury cars in Miami. (It’s tied in to a recent Jalopnik article on the subject.) Or, as one individual in the film stated, “Miami is truly the ‘fake it until you make it’ town.”
99% of those cars are rentals for a few days, much less long term leases, to be seen in something flashy when it’s necessary, rented by people with no more income than the average reader of this site. So I can imagine the maintenance a thirty year old model gets, or, more exactly has ‘deferred’ should someone desire ownership.
Our society has long progressed from the point where the ownership of a flashy exotic car even began to indicate the actual net worth of the driver.
How true, the rarity of a ratty-but-operable Rolls. I have been sitting on some shots of one of these for a long time, in that in-between condition, though probably better than the one you describe.
We must salute the fearless Cuban who took a look at that car and said “Si, I can do this.”
I have no doubt an experienced Cuban can keep it running. I assume the Citroën suspension bags have been replaced with F-150 (or F-250, these things are heavy) front coils. A traditional hydraulic brake system removed from a similar pickup (maybe a Chevy) has been adapted to the original brake lines. The engine and trans are likely the RR and Hydramatic 400 originally fitted. In any case, good for them!!
If you buy Accumulators/spheres from Rolls Royce you require a second possibly a third mortgage the same part from Citroen is lunch money the pump that runs the whole show is very simple and the hydraulic lines cheap by the roll and any semi competent shadetree mechanic can repair the system, Considering what Cubans can do to keep the spluttering fleet of Murican rides mobile a Rolls/Citroen system is simple.
When I was in ninth or tenth grade, there was an artsy student at my high school who drove to school several times in a beater Bentley S1. It appeared in a number of yearbook photos, and may have been used in some other school activity capacity. I don’t remember whose it was exactly, and I don’t recall whether the student had another car for daily use.
Other than that, I don’t think I’ve seen a Crewe product that was functional without being near-new or a pampered classic.
Some time after we married (so mid-eighties) some friends of my in-laws came to visit. Nice, unremarkable people, totally unexceptional, and we had a lovely afternoon. As they got up to leave, the husband apologized for the noise of their car, but there was some trouble in getting the necessary part. We went out to wave goodbye, to be confronted with an early Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, slightly scruffy, in a nice conservative white.
He was right about the noise. Have you ever heard an unmuffled Rolls-Royce V8? This one was a bit more sprightly than the wounded earthworm Rich spoke of. It had a rumble a Mustang owner would be proud of (there was a ’67 down the block), and you could still hear it half a mile away when they merged into the highway traffic.
The neighbours wondered who had owned the Rolls; it was not the sort of car you’d see in suburban Mitcham. Nothing was said about the noise, for unless you had been watching, you wouldn’t connect the two.
A fine article .
Not long ago the owner of a business near my brother’s Man Cave showed up with on of these in similar shape .
Being California there wasn’t much rust otherwise it looked the same, bedraggled and unloved .
They occasionally put a tarp over it but mostly it just sat getting dustier and dustier .
Old beaters like this litter So. Cal. most have been stripped of the emblems and other re salable items, you can buy one running with rotten leather fairly cheaply but the missing cosmetic parts will out value the car .
Not too many years back a decent looking one was for sale in Hawthorne for $10,000, I looked it and passed, the folks that bought it lived in an apartment a few blocks away and street parked it for several years until it vanished again .
Pretty if very conservative looking cars IMO .
-Nate