Back in 1970, the world of classic car hunting was a different landscape. Before the internet and widespread collector car publications, enthusiasts relied on sources like the Sunday New York Times classifieds. For aspiring collectors with limited budgets, like a medical student at the time, these pages were a treasure trove of possibilities, albeit often beyond financial reach. While dreams of owning a Duesenberg, often priced upwards of $50,000, remained distant, the desire for a classic with history, sporting pedigree, and timeless design persisted. This was the influence of an enthusiast father, who instilled an appreciation for the finer qualities in automobiles.
My father, a dedicated family doctor, operated his practice from a modest home office, deeply rooted in serving our community. Financial wealth was not his priority. His 1956 patient logbook, a simple record of $3-4 per visit charges, illustrates the modest income of a general practitioner in that era, alongside a testament to the sheer volume of patients he cared for daily.
Weekends often involved house calls, which, as a child in 1956, I found less than thrilling. However, these drives often led to visits to local junkyards and used car lots. Even then, in the mid-1950s, cars from the 1930s were only twenty years old, and my father had the foresight to recognize their potential future importance. He understood that cars with inherently sporty and elegant lines were the ones destined for discerning collectors.
Returning to the New York Times of 1970, an advertisement caught my eye. A gentleman from the suburbs was offering his 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing for sale. This wasn’t just any 1970 Mercedes Benz; it was a Gullwing, a legendary machine with less than 30,000 miles, equipped with desirable Rudge wheels, and described as being in excellent condition. The seller, a pool builder, had acquired the car in a business transaction. However, the Gullwing proved impractical for his wife, deemed too challenging to drive, excessively hot, and unsuitable for everyday errands.
Fortuitously, 1970 represented a low point in the Gullwing’s market value. A phone call led to a quick agreement, and with $3,500 in cash saved, the silver Gullwing was mine. I enlisted my girlfriend Jackie for a ride, knowing I would be driving the Mercedes home. The car was, and remains to this day, remarkably well-preserved, having avoided any major mishaps over the decades. It became my daily driver, parked regularly on city streets. Aside from the theft of its Becker radio while parked outside a hospital during an emergency, it has weathered the past half-century remarkably well.
When I proudly presented my new acquisition to my father, his reaction was understated. He offered little verbal praise, but his lack of disapproval, especially considering I had financed the purchase myself, spoke volumes.
A few months later, while driving past Jerry’s Used Cars, a local dealership in our less affluent neighborhood, I spotted an unexpected sight: a gleaming black Gullwing amidst a collection of ordinary American cars. On my way to visit my father, I mentioned the black Mercedes. His response was a gentle, dismissive remark: “Well, we don’t need two of them.”
Understandable, I thought.
I continued to enjoy my silver Gullwing. About two months later, passing Jerry’s again, the black Mercedes was gone. “Jerry, what happened to that black Mercedes?” I inquired. With a knowing smirk, he replied, “Your dad bought it!”
Returning home, the secret was out. My father led me to the garage, where he had already begun the process of meticulously detailing his new 1970 Mercedes Benz. The car, still wearing its original black paint, looked virtually new. However, as the bill of sale revealed, he had paid $4,750 – a significant $1,250 more than my purchase price. In my youthful exuberance, I felt a sense of one-upmanship!
As it turned out, my father derived far greater pleasure from his 1970 Mercedes Benz Gullwing. While I was engrossed in medical studies, he dedicated his time to restoring and showcasing his black beauty at car shows. A photograph captures his proud moment of winning first prize at the 1971 New Hope Auto Show. His beaming face, alongside the classic Mercedes, tells the story of his passion.
Today, both Gullwings, symbols of a shared passion and a bygone era of classic car acquisition, are proudly preserved and displayed at the Simeone Automotive Museum. This story serves as a reminder of a time when these automotive icons were attainable dreams for enthusiasts, and how their value, both monetary and sentimental, has appreciated immensely over time.
Note: $3,500 in 1970 is equivalent to approximately $21,000 today, and $4,750 is roughly $28,000 when adjusted for inflation.
