Back in the 1970s, before the internet and widespread collector car publications, finding classic automobiles often meant poring over the classifieds, particularly the Sunday New York Times. Its old car section was a treasure trove, predominantly featuring vehicles available locally in the Northeast. For enthusiasts like myself, it was a weekly ritual, though the dream cars often felt financially out of reach. Duesenbergs, for instance, were consistently priced above $50,000—a considerable sum for a medical student at the time.
My aspirations leaned towards something more practical, yet still embodying the historical significance, sporting pedigree, and design excellence instilled by my father, a family doctor with a passion for automobiles. He operated from a modest home office, dedicated to our community, and financial wealth was never a priority. His 1956 patient logbook, a testament to his simple record-keeping, reveals the modest earnings of a general practitioner in that era, averaging just $3–4 per patient visit, while managing to see a remarkable number of patients daily.
Before his office hours commenced, we would often embark on house calls. As a child in 1956, these were often tedious, but they frequently led to visits to local junkyards or used car dealerships. Even then, cars from the mid-1930s, merely 20 years old at the time, held a certain allure, and my father helped me recognize their potential future importance. He understood early on that cars with classic “sporting” lines were destined for discerning collectors.
Returning to the New York Times classifieds of the 1970s, an advertisement caught my eye. A gentleman in the suburbs was selling his 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing. It boasted fewer than 30,000 miles, stylish Rudge wheels, and was described as being in excellent condition. The owner, a pool builder, had acquired the Gullwing in a trade, but his wife found it unwieldy, hot, and generally unsuitable for everyday errands.
Fortunately, the 1970s represented a low point in the Gullwing’s valuation, allowing for a favorable negotiation. A deal was struck over the phone, and with $3,500 in cash I had saved, the silver Gullwing was mine. I enlisted my girlfriend Jackie for a ride, knowing I’d be driving the Mercedes home. The transaction was swift, and the car was, and remains, in remarkable condition, having avoided any significant mishaps. I used it as my daily driver, parking it on city streets. Apart from the theft of its Becker radio while parked briefly outside a hospital during an emergency, it has weathered the past four and a half decades exceptionally well.
My father’s reaction to my prized possession was understated when I proudly offered him a ride. However, I sensed his approval, especially since I had financed the purchase myself.
Months later, driving past Jerry’s Used Cars, a local lot in our less affluent neighborhood, a gleaming black Gullwing stood out amongst the typical American cars. On my way to visit my father, I mentioned the black Mercedes. His response was a gentle, “Well, we don’t need two of them.” A reasonable sentiment.
I continued to enjoy my silver Gullwing. About two months later, passing Jerry’s again, the black Gullwing was gone. “Jerry, what happened to that black Mercedes?” I inquired. He smirked, “Your dad bought it!”
Arriving home, the secret was out. My father led me to the garage where he had already begun detailing the black Gullwing, effortlessly restoring its beauty. Its original black paint made it appear factory fresh. The bill of sale, however, revealed he paid $4,750. This was notably more than my $3,500, giving me a slight sense of one-upmanship.
As it turned out, my father derived immense pleasure from his black Gullwing. While my medical studies consumed my time, he dedicated himself to its upkeep, showcased it at events, and proudly won first prize at the 1971 New Hope Auto Show.
The photograph captures his pride perfectly, alongside the winning car. Both Gullwings remain on display at the Simeone Museum today, a testament to a shared passion and a bygone era of 1970s Mercedes-Benz collecting.
Note: Adjusted for inflation, $3,500 in 1970 equates to approximately $21,000 USD today, and $4,750 is roughly $28,000.
