This bright blue old Benz was unavoidable at Jerry’s home improvement store the other day. Not quite the factory shade of blue it started life wearing, but then this 190 has been around for a while, and deserves to sport something a bit more bold. I rather like it; it looks rather like a toy car come to life.
I’ve been admiring these since they first arrived, in 220S/SE form in 1959, shortly before we left Austria. Wow; that was such a major cultural event: an all-new Mercedes. And I still admire them today, and even more so the devoted owners that keep them running. I came close to buying a tired, rusty one in my early car-ramblin’ days, but their specific vulnerabilities and complexities scared me off, into the hands of VWs and eventually a Peugeot 404. Probably just as well.
That was a six-cylinder that I almost burned my fingers on. But a rust-free diesel or gas 190 probably wouldn’t have been, or still isn’t all that hard to keep running. I’m being my usual optimistic self. Eventually transmissions, rear ends, and a host of other parts that have a finite lifespan will wear out.
The missing badge makes it a guess as to whether it’s a diesel or gasser. I’m betting on the former, as Mercedes diesels obviously have always had a huge cult following. If it is, the bumper shows no sign of soot.
The interior shows both the pros and cons of these. Back in the 60s and early-mid 70s, these splendid thrones were so utterly unlike anything typically seen in American cars, which mostly had flat bench seats that invariably became horribly uncomfortable after a few hundred miles. My back still aches when I think about driving our family 1965 Coronet wagon most of the way back from Colorado to Maryland because my father wasn’t well.
These seats and a host of other details (like the superb ride, excellent brakes and steering) are why folks back in the 50s and 60s were willing to pay so much for a 55 hp sedan. The differences were stark then. Not anymore, and for some time now.
The back seat is missing.
And from that bit of paint on the driver’s door where that wonderful wide pad, perfect for open-window driving, has been removed suggests that it was a blue originally, just not as intensely blue as now, and visible on the rear wheel well.
This is what I see in my mind’s eye when I think of a blue Mercedes of this vintage.
But I’m ok with this too. It deserves a bit of boldness in its old age.
If I keep looking at this car, I’m going to start feeling a tsunami of nostalgia. And I’ve indulged in a lot of that already here over the years. I’ll just celebrate the fact that it’s still out and about, and let its owner worry about how to resuscitate its interior.
Don’t miss Don Andreina’s superb design deep dive on the fintail Benz here
And if you want to peruse other fintail goodies at CC, here’s the results of a search for them
That takes me back about a year or so when I came across its twin in the original shade of blue!
And with the red interior as well although in my case it was the interior that looked abnormally bright instead of the exterior.
Looks like a Morocco taxi. They are painted a similar blue.
Although the diesel has longevity, I recall seeing far more gasoline versions back when these were fairly common in the States. Plus, the area around the tailpipe seems too clean for an old diesel. Either way, this was an influential car in my youth; my best friend’s parents had one, gasoline 190 in battleship gray with red leather and 4 on the tree. I rode in it countless times, and later, drove it more than once; if my parents’ Volvo 122S had a hint of sportiness, the 190 had more than a hint of stateliness. And solidity. A pretty rare sight now.
I rode in one of these frequently as a teen but it was the diesel version, there was another one in the town I grew up in but it was a 220
I remember getting mildly excited over one of these a number of years ago, but let the excitement ebb before the car disappeared from the Wal-Mart parking lot where it was sitting with a for-sale sign in the windshield. It was the gas six with an automatic. Maybe one of those things was the reason it was so inexpensive.
On one hand, I agree with all you say. This is the quintessential German car in my eyes – everything it does it does with precision. Everything it does not do is something you don’t have any business doing anyway – or so would say the engineers.
On the flip side, though, there were lots of reasons to not buy one of these. Yes, the seats in American cars could be awful, and in lower priced cars like your family’s Coronet wagon (and in my 66 Fury III) certainly were. Seats in an expensive American car were something else, though. The Cadillacs, Lincolns and high-end Chryslers of my experience had seats that were quite nice (even if they weren’t buckets). For what these Mercedes’ cost, you got bragging rights on quality but pathetic little in the way of performance or convenience. A Cadillac or a Chrysler still offered a better alternative for most American drivers. That balance started to change in the late 60s as Mercedes gained in power and prestige while the Americans went the other direction.
I don´t think it´s a diesel. The fintails had the preheater indicator to the left of the dash and I don’t see it. Then again, it might be hidden by the speedometer.
Nice old fintail .
Diesels don’t smudge their rear bumpers if the engine’s in good shape and properly maintained / tuned….
Two of my three old Mercedes _never_ emit visible smoke nor have the telltale smudge near the exhaust pipe .
-Nate
I can smell those old German interiors just looking at the pictures.