In the 1990s I did the How-To segment on the My Classic Car TV show, and it was there that I saw my first restored car. This was years after having gone to Pebble Beach and other famous concours d’elegance shows. Let me explain.
One of the cars we featured on the show was a 1963 Corvette split-window coupe that had been meticulously restored to the way it was when it left the factory, right down to the slight orange peel in the paintwork and the faint overspray on the chassis. In fact, the owner researched everything to the point that he actually knew how much grease was shot into the fittings on the chassis!
Even the original chalk marks made by the inspectors on the assembly line were in place, despite dealers having usually erased them when they prepped the cars for sale. Also, the car’s hubcaps were stowed in the back of the car, wrapped in the correct brown paper that the factory used for shipment. It took years, a lot of money, and a lot of research to make the car as painstakingly authentic as it was, and of course the owner never even started it. The car was strictly for show and was shipped in a closed trailer everywhere it went.
I say kudos to this true restorer who presented us with such an exact restoration of this unique car. I will not take a position on whether it is advisable for anyone to go to such incredible effort to recreate assembly-line mediocrity, though. Or for that matter, why restorers try to exceed the original with a lovingly hand-built fantasy of what the car could have been. That’s because I also enjoy seeing the great classics over-restored to what they could have been.
The great classics on display at the prestigious concours shows are stunning to behold, and yes, they were hand built by craftsmen to very high standards, but they were never done to the level of perfection that you see at Pebble Beach. People who were alive at the time they were built would tell you so, and that includes my late father, who once shot paint for Howard “Dutch” Darrin back in the late 1930s.
Pop said that Dutch used a lot of lead, rather than the best metal finishing, and that some of his early Packard Darrins had problems with cowl shake after being sectioned and channeled, and the doors would pop open without warning. He then resorted to a cast-aluminum cowl. Apparently, Dutch relied on the designer’s dictum: “If it looks good, it IS good,” which is great for static art, but not necessarily ideal for kinetic items such as cars.
I have over-restored half a dozen cars to show-winning standards myself and have the trophies to prove it, and I have gone to a great deal of trouble to make them as factory-original as possible. But I like to drive classics too, so I have subtly upgraded and changed some of them to make them more usable in today’s traffic.
For example, I have added more durable roller-type front-wheel bearings to my 1958 Chevrolet Apache parts-chaser pickup, and vented the brake drums for extra stopping power. I added aftermarket air conditioning to my 1955 Chevrolet Beauville station wagon so my wife and I can be comfortable on hot summer tours. I used the original factory-correct inlets in the passenger compartment, but I had to add an alternator to deal with the extra amps required to run the system.
With my 1940 Packard 110 coupe, I installed the correct original R9 Borg Warner overdrive available that year, but left the non-overdrive differential in place because it had a higher (numerically lower) gear ratio that allows me to drive at freeway speeds without over-revving the engine. Also, the Packard’s paintwork is the original Harbor Gray hue, but it has been color sanded and polished to a gleaming perfection using modern materials that the carmakers were never blessed with at the factory.
So, what’s my point? Just this: I admire and applaud people who restore cars to exact originality, though I have only ever seen one, and I also admire those who over-restore to concours d’elegance standards, based on the original French meaning of the term that originated in Paris in the 19th century, when people tarted up their horse-drawn vehicles and toured them around that city.
Also thrilling to me is seeing well-preserved original cars, because they are the most accurate tangible artifacts of automotive history we have left, and I am a history buff. Such surviving originals are the closest things to time machines that exist and are able to transport us back to another era. I applaud people who keep such cars original and running, so we can all see, hear, and smell what once was.
Instead of restoring, maybe all such preserved cars need is careful re-storing, not restoring, to make sure they survive for future generations to appreciate.