Call me…….Fred

−A cold morning, Saturday, 24Feb1973, Worthington, OH just north of Columbus, and the salesman, one Red Skinner, delivers.  Chocolate covered strawberries, helium filled balloon, singing telegram…none of the above.

It’s a car, a modest 4 door, entry level sedan, brand new, 4 cylinder diesel from dealer Ed Potter’s Mercedes Benz-Renault.  A surprise gift to one Frederick Ray, on his 50th birthday, special order from his wife, Dorothy (‘Dot’).

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Fred, a civil engineer/bridge builder/shade tree mechanic, admired German cars, and this beauty, in his favorite color, Db 430 Harvest Beige, was identical to the VW Beetle in their garage.  A ‘plain Jane’ to some, the Rays adored the match and vowed to save the 220D for special occasions.

220D 1973 msrp

As a childless couple, Fred enjoyed his garage time, the maintenance and care of the Benz was a passion, as he meticulously archived handwritten notes.   Noted too by a young neighborhood kid,  Jonathan Karnes, who visited often.  Fast friends, yes, but a metamorphic, surrogate grandfather/grandson bond emerged.

Dot’s odometer ended in 2003, mileage on the Benz, 26,576.  Rarely driven, Fred, too, passed away in 2013, age 90, mileage 27,003. The estate directed Jonathan inherit the car, although now grown, attending medical school, soon to be a 4/yr resident in orthopedic surgery, Morgantown, WV.  By necessity the car slumbered, as Jon, married, with small children, the chief resident accepted a post doctoral year in spinal surgery in Madison, WI.  The time had come to sever the umbilicus, an early 30’s physician with career and responsibility, surrounded by objects from Hasbro®, Fisher-Price®, and Tonka® in the crosshairs….the sedan needed a new home.  On 7April2019, the ignition keys and baton were passed to Insightout….mileage 27,571.

https://bringatrailer.com/listing/1973-mercedes-benz-220d-3/

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The stunning simplicity, French designer, Paul Bracq’s exquisite lines promise to resonate with age.  The current overload of tech advancement, unnecessary drivel of rear camera video monitor, g.p.s., parking assist, power excess, gadgetry ad infinitum has drowned the sensual pleasure of the freedom to drive. Where did we  go astray. Mercedes provided Dot, the minimalist, with the following for Fred’s enjoyment:

  • automatic transmission, AM-FM radio
  • power steering, power 4 wheel disc brakes
  • electric windshield wipers and clock

Paul Bracq graced us, a 270° greenhouse view, through tinted windshield, peering over the graceful arc of the hood, squared off fenders to the three-pointed star, and Dot thankfully excluded:

  • power seats
  • power windows
  • power antenna
  • cruise control
  • keyless entry
  • air-conditioning
  • heated seats, bluetooth, tilt wheel, yada
  • granite countertops

Yes, 0 to 60 mph times mean little, and an easily achieved top speed of 83 mph is rarely necessary, and yet, a finely tuned 46 y/o gets 28 mpg.

Commentary during the internet auction alluded to the pouring of cold honey;

‘teaches both the driver, and all followers, patience’

‘fun to drive a slow car fast than a fast car slow- and this is a SLOW car’

‘lethargic performance, like it was on a heavy dose of Valium’

‘you have to choose either “lively” or “relaxed”, this an example of the latter’

‘on an unincorporated country road, where it’s never hot, all day to kill, this could be the perfect car for you’

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Collectors are inclined to name cars, usually in the feminine tense, which is peculiar, as the vehicle does not have headaches, a menstrual cycle, nor succumb to fashion or footwear fads.  Hence the 220D is simply, Fred.  

Not Frederick, not the teutonic Fritz, just plain Fred.

In honor of both Mr. Ray, and Paul Bracq, I designed my own vanity plate…which says it all.

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©insightout2019

Special thanks to Jonathan Karnes MD, & his father Jim, for (a) providing personal details, and (b) their thoughtful stewardship for 6 years.

David Z. Kil, photographer, for the finest rear view ever conceived.

Cartoon, courtesy, Crown Media Holdings®, 2018

And lastly, to Fred Ray, whom I never knew, but whose spirit will always remain although, at time & ½, my mind cannot find the words of gratitude. For the best ride ever. Today’s mileage, turned, with zero digital assistance, 28,000.

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Daisy II , the sequel

Subtitle : Black sedan, White knuckles, Crimson dawn, Brown………..

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Pre-dawn, final day of reckoning, the pink aura of the civil sunrise suggests the ancient mariner adage, “red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning”.  In a nearby industrial park, I await the arrival of the open air transporter assigned to deliver Daisy from Indiana to a San Diego container ship.DSCN9635.JPG

The driver, a no-nonsense, chain smoker on his 5th cup of robust Starbucks, refuses my offer to help load, ‘insurance regs, you understand, we’re not allowed to take chances with non-professionals‘.  After providing oral instruction on the old Benz’ Hydrak © shifting, I’m dismissed, ‘no prob, bucko, I’ve been doing this for 40 years’.

It has begun to rain.  After 20 minutes of failed attempts, Mr. Flying J, truck stop poster boy for 5 hour energy, decides I’m his new best friend. ‘Maybe you should do this, but back this puppy on, as I gotta drive it off and I can’t find reverse’.

Please ? 

Readers have encountered terrifying driving experiences, and for many, more mobile PTSD moments they might prefer to forget:

  • blizzard whiteout, dust storm, pea soup fog; take your pick
  • witnessing a head-on collision, collecting body parts off asphalt
  • hitting a deer after dark, at 60 mph, with the top down, after 4 beers
  • small plane landing on I-95 directly over your hood
  • doing a 180°, in traffic, on an icy road
  • driving in Rome

You may even have your own…..share if your pulse exceeds 140.

Mine is about to happen.  Approaching death road, I’m doing the arithmetic and realize that maybe death row is a better option. All I’ve committed to do is drive a 50 y/o car, weighing 3000 lbs., up 100 feet, on two rusty 12 inch wide planks, zero guardrails, 10 feet above the earth’s surface, at 2 mph, in the rain….backward.

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DSCN9639.JPGDSCN9637.JPG            While Ice Road trucker stood by casually sucking on a Marlboro menthol.

Was the first attempt successful ?  Yes.

Would I ever do it again ?  Never.

None of the makers of men’s undergarments; Hanes®, Jockey®, Under Armor®, have the dark brown option…briefs or boxers, except Duluth Trading®.

Did I have any regrets in kissing Daisy goodbye one last time, a nice old girl who loved the road and might never be driven again ?

Who spoke to me, trunk open, as if to say, "let's rumble"
                              Who spoke to me, trunk open, as if to say, “let’s rumble”

 

Only one.

 

Karl Baisch, 4 pc with keys
Karl Baisch, Autokofferfabrik, Stuttgart, 4 pc with keys

Room to pack Immodium, Kaopectate, and Charmin tissue, I wish I had kept her plaid, wool-lined, luggage with the yellow silk ribbons.

 

©insightout2017

 

Daisy, part I

Timeline: First day of spring 1994, South Bend, IN

Welcome the 180 chassis to its new home  ⬇

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Rewinding the clock to 1969, a Methodist minister in Fargo, ND, the Rev. Mueller, trades in his trusted 1958 Mercedes 220S sedan for a new Cadillac DeVille, thus verifying that belief in Christ may reap material benefits.

In nearby rural Northcote, MN, John Dunn, bend-in-the-road Texaco station owner, buys the Benz; $ 600 for the car + an extra $50 for the 4 piece fitted luggage in the trunk.

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Fast forward 25 years of everyday driving, Mr. Dunn passes away, the sedan is offered by the estate, and I’m driving it, cautiously, 300 miles home. In remarkably original condition, it has the standard color scheme; black exterior, lush red leather interior, and enough wood inside to fund a South American lumberyard.

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The car had one unusual and expensive option (~ 175 US$ in 1958 now = $1476 today ), a transmission in transition, operating without a clutch pedal, the segue of manual to automatic. M-Benz named it Hydrak ©, which found few supporters (burned out clutches) and became a handicap at the time of sale.  The operation, although flawless, proved too tricky for the average driver, took practice getting used to, a rare misstep in German engineering.

However, I loved it, as no one ever asked if they could take the wheel.

The car became our tribute to the similar 1955 Buick, Morgan Freeman transporting Jessica Tandy in the classic film, “Driving Miss Daisy”. Daisy became my daily driver for several summers, work, play, and the occasional wedding.

photo ⬇ courtesy, Barrett-Jackson LLC, all rights reserved 1998

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Wife, Lynn, practicing her Princess Di wave for the adoring masses, July 4th, 2004, parade, DeTour Village, MI. Note, steering wheel mounted, illegal necking knob off our tractor.

My bridge partner, a very close friend, once asked me to go to the local mausoleum, for a photographic favor.  A family dispute involving a distant, disenfranchised stepson living in Manhattan, who received no inheritance from his wealthy stepmother, felt her death was a hoax. He demanded evidence of the burial vault. A favorite photo resulted :

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Alas, Daisy became the victim of being # 9 in an eight car barn. The old ponton roundbody was sold on eBay to a shopping center magnate in Hong Kong. The Los Angeles agent for the new owner revealed that the Chinese government prohibits ‘vintage’ cars on the road, hence, Daisy was condemned to a suspended turntable in a mall atrium, an obscene display of Western imperialism, never to be driven.  Little different than a stationary pole dancer in an adult night club.

A political shame, until, perhaps, the next insurrection in Beijing….?…

Stay tuned,

“but I don’t want to go to Hong Kong”  ⬇DSCN9480.JPG

 

©insightout2017