Back in 1970, the world of classic cars was a different landscape. Forget the instant access of the internet or glossy magazines overflowing with collector vehicles. For enthusiasts like myself, the Sunday New York Times classifieds were the treasure map. Within its pages, nestled amongst local listings in the Northeast, lay a world of automotive dreams. I devoured those pages religiously, even though most of the advertised marvels were financially beyond my reach. Duesenbergs were plentiful, but with price tags exceeding $50,000, they remained firmly in the realm of fantasy for a medical student scraping by.
My aspirations, however, leaned towards something more practical, yet equally captivating. Influenced by my father, a true car aficionado, my ideal vehicle had to possess a rich history, a sporty pedigree, exceptional design, and embody all the qualities he had instilled in me. He taught me to appreciate the subtle nuances of automotive excellence, a passion that began during our regular weekend adventures.
My father was a dedicated family doctor, content with his modest practice within our home. His financial records, like the 1956 patient logbook shown here, illustrate the economic realities of the time. Each visit averaged a mere $3–4, a testament to his commitment to community service over monetary gain. This ledger also reveals the sheer volume of patients he attended to daily!
House calls were a routine part of our mornings before office hours. While perhaps tedious for a young boy in 1956, these excursions often led to fascinating detours to local junkyards or used car dealerships. In that era, cars from the mid-1930s were only twenty years old, yet my father already recognized their potential future significance. He helped me understand that cars with inherently classic and “sporting” lines were destined to become prized possessions for discerning collectors. This early education shaped my appreciation for automotive artistry, a sensibility that resonates even today, particularly when considering the enduring elegance of 1970s Mercedes-Benz sedans.
Returning to the New York Times classifieds of 1970, an advertisement caught my eye. A gentleman from the suburbs was offering his 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing. This wasn’t just any Mercedes; the Gullwing was an icon, a symbol of automotive brilliance. This particular model 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 car in exchange for his services. However, his wife, it turned out, found the Gullwing less than practical. Its temperamental nature, considerable heat, and lack of everyday usability for “uxorial duties” made it unsuitable for their needs.
Fortuitously for me, 1970 represented a low point in the Gullwing’s market value. This presented an opportunity. After a brief phone negotiation, we struck a deal. I had diligently saved enough cash to meet his asking price of $3,500. In today’s money, that’s still a significant sum, but in 1970, for a Gullwing, it was a steal. I immediately called my girlfriend Jackie for a ride, knowing I would be driving home in my dream car. The transaction was swift, and the car, then as now, remained in remarkable condition, having escaped any serious mishaps over the years. Naturally, I drove it everywhere, parking it on city streets without a second thought. Apart from the theft of the Becker radio while parked briefly outside a hospital during an emergency, it has weathered the past four and a half decades beautifully.
When I proudly showed my father the Gullwing, taking him for a ride, his reaction was understated. He offered little verbal praise, but I sensed his approval, especially since I had financed the purchase myself. He appreciated fine automobiles, and while the 300 SL Gullwing was undeniably special, Mercedes-Benz also produced exceptional sedans throughout the 1970s. Models like the W114 and W115, known as the “Stroke-8” sedans, and later the luxurious W116 S-Class, represented the pinnacle of automotive engineering and design for their time. These sedans, while more conventional in appearance than the flamboyant Gullwing, shared the same commitment to quality, performance, and timeless style that defined Mercedes-Benz.
A few months later, driving past Jerry’s Used Cars, a local lot in our less affluent neighborhood, I spotted an unexpected sight. There, amidst a collection of unremarkable American cars, sat another Gullwing, this one gleaming in black. On my way to visit my father, I mentioned the black Gullwing to him. He simply quipped with gentle amusement, “Well, we don’t need two of them.” Understandable, I thought.
Life continued, and I enjoyed my silver Gullwing. About two months later, passing Jerry’s again, the black Gullwing was gone. Curiosity piqued, I asked Jerry, “What happened to that black Mercedes?” He responded with a sly grin, “Your dad bought it!”
Returning home, I discovered the truth. My father, knowing his secret was out, led me to the garage. He had already begun meticulously detailing the black Gullwing, restoring it to its former glory. It wasn’t a difficult task, as the car retained its original black paint, giving it a remarkably fresh appearance. However, as the bill of sale revealed, he had paid $4,750, significantly more than my $3,500. In my youthful exuberance, I felt I had somehow outsmarted him financially!
As it turned out, he derived even greater pleasure from his Gullwing than I did from mine. While I was immersed in medical studies, he dedicated his time to refining his car, entering it in shows, and, as seen here, proudly winning first prize at the 1971 New Hope Auto Show.
Looking at the photograph, beyond the car and the vintage cheesecake pose, you can see the genuine pride radiating from his face. Both Gullwings, testaments to a bygone era of automotive passion and design, are now proudly displayed at the Simeone Museum, a place dedicated to preserving and celebrating automotive history for generations to come. Just as these Gullwings captivate visitors today, the elegance and engineering of 1970s Mercedes-Benz sedans continue to resonate with enthusiasts who appreciate enduring automotive excellence.
Adjusting for inflation, $3,500 in 1970 is approximately $21,000 US today; $4,750 is about $28,000
