In 1970, long before the internet and specialized collector car magazines, the Sunday New York Times was the treasure map for automotive enthusiasts. Its classifieds, particularly the old car section, were a weekly ritual for those seeking classic gems, mostly concentrated in the Northeast. For a young medical student like myself, Duesenbergs at over $50,000 were dreams, but the desire for a car with history, sportiness, and iconic design, instilled by my car-loving father, was very real.
My father, a dedicated family doctor, operated from a modest office in our home. His patient logbook from 1956, a simple record of $3–4 house call visits, illustrated his commitment to community over wealth. These house calls, though uneventful for a child, often led to junkyard and used car dealer visits. Even then, he pointed out the potential significance of 1930s cars, just twenty years old at the time, recognizing that those with classic sporting lines would become collector’s items.
Back to the New York Times and my 1970 search: an ad for a 1955 Mercedes 300 SL Gullwing caught my eye. It was advertised by a suburban gentleman, a pool builder who had acquired it in a trade. This Benz SL Gullwing, boasting under 30,000 miles and elegant Rudge wheels, was in excellent condition. However, his wife found the Gullwing impractical, hot, and unsuitable for daily errands.
Fortuitously, 1970 was a low point in the Gullwing’s market value. A phone deal was struck, and with $3,500 in hard-earned cash, I was ready to bring this beauty home. My girlfriend Jackie provided the ride, knowing she was just delivering me to my new Benz SL. The deal was swift, and the car remains in remarkable condition to this day, a testament to its enduring quality. It became my daily driver, street-parked and all. Apart from a stolen Becker radio outside a hospital during an emergency run, it has gracefully aged over the decades.
My father’s reaction to my prized Benz SL Gullwing was understated. A ride in the car elicited no overt praise, but his lack of disapproval, especially considering I’d financed it myself, spoke volumes.
A couple of months later, passing Jerry’s Used Cars, a lot in our modest neighborhood, I spotted another Gullwing. This one, a gleaming black Benz SL, looked out of place amongst the American cars. Mentioning it to my father, his reply was a gentle, “Well, we don’t need two of them.” A reasonable sentiment.
I continued enjoying my Gullwing. Weeks later, the black Benz SL was gone from Jerry’s. “Jerry, what happened to the black Mercedes?” I inquired. With a smirk, he revealed, “Your dad bought it!”
Returning home, the secret was out. My father led me to the garage, where he was already lavishing attention on his new purchase. Its original black paint made it appear brand new, and as the bill of sale showed, he had paid $4,750 – more than my $3,500. In my youthful mind, I’d scored a better deal!
However, my father derived immense pleasure from his Benz SL. While I was immersed in medical studies, he dedicated himself to its upkeep, proudly exhibiting it at car shows. The photo captures him winning first prize at the 1971 New Hope Auto Show, his pride evident.
Both of these remarkable 1970 Benz SL Gullwings, symbols of a shared passion, remain proudly displayed at the Simeone Museum to this day, a testament to a father and son’s enduring love for automotive history.
Note: $3,500 in 1970 is approximately $21,000 today; $4,750 is about $28,000 when adjusted for inflation.
