Classic Center
Miichael F. Kunz
Be Gentle with an Original Automobile
As tempting as it may seem to the enthusiast to buy a shiny, freshly restored classic car at auction that can immediately be shown and driven, there is much to be said for buying a truly original and unrestored example of your desired model. No matter how bad it may appear on the surface, such a car may offer a deep store of new knowledge about how that model was originally designed and assembled. In addition, there can be great satisfaction in the process of carefully and sympathetically bringing that car back to a condition where it can be admired, used and enjoyed once again.
We have just such an automobile at the Classic Center now, an early 300SL Roadster, built in 1957, the first year of roadster production. We have just started the process of research and planning that will precede its restoration. For anyone who may ever have a similar opportunity to bring an original classic back to life, our approach should be of interest.
We are always on the lookout for heritage cars that haven’t been misused or badly damaged, and have not yet been touched by a restorer. But working with such cars starts long before we locate a possible acquisition, so here is my first piece of advice: Do the research on your desired model in advance.
Books on the overall history of automotive development and on your particular marque will give the car a historical context and help differentiate between period-authentic components and techniques, and anachronistic changes made by later owners or restorers. Of course, books and articles that provide information and buying tips on the particular make and model will help you determine when the problems are superficial or if the car is really only useful for the parts that can be scavenged from it.
Specialists in the marque and other owners can also be invaluable sources of information, and could lead you to a prime candidate for your project. In a way, this was the case with our Roadster. It was purchased some years ago by a Mercedes-Benz technician who had bought it from a long-time owner and then drove it for awhile, until he put the car into storage with the intention of restoring it eventually.
When we heard that the owner had given up the idea of restoration, we made contact. Because we were already aware of the history of the car and its rarity from our research, we were willing to purchase it sight unseen, although that’s normally a bad practice in buying classic cars.
The moral here is that the more you know about when and how your dream classic was designed and built, as well as its current value in the marketplace, the easier it will be to differentiate a good but possibly fleeting opportunity from a mistake in the making when you do get the opportunity to purchase your project car.
My second piece of advice is to use a light hand early on. With the car sitting in your garage or workshop, the temptation to begin removing parts and dismantling major systems can be almost irresistable. We know from experience that much of the valuable information about old cars, including their components and how they were assembled, isn’t in books, but can only be learned from the car itself.
With the Roadster, as with our other acquisitions, the initial cleaning isn’t trusted to a helper, and it’s done carefully, since much can be learned of the car’s history from its contents, markings, and labels. This information may guide the restoration, or add to the story of its provenance, both of which have very real value. Contents of the trunk and glove compartment, items caught under the seats, oil change stickers, receipts, all are archeological clues to a car’s history.
One of the first things we found in going through the car was an entry slip from a car show in Elkin, North Carolina, when the car was most likely running and in show condition. Fittingly for the year when we honored the 125 years of Mercedes-Benz, that show honored the 100th anniversary of the the marque.
For example, as we examined this car we found an entry card in the glove compartment from a show in North Carolina celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Mercedes-Benz marque, which seemed like a propitious omen for our restoration. From that, we knew the car had been driven and shown 25 years ago, but we could be reasonably sure from other clues that it hadn’t been driven since.
Removing the rocker panels is an easy way to check the condition of the underbody. The badge, added by a previous owner, is an interesting artifact and will be kept with the car.
The third principle we follow is to develop a plan for the restoration before the first parts are removed. In the case of the 300SL cars, the condition of the underlying tube-frame is important, so once the dust and dirt was off, the car was put on a lift and the wheels taken off, the rocker panels were removed, which is easy on a Roadster.
With the car up on the rack, we could easily see that the tube frame was in excellent condition – a very good sign – with no evidence of damage, rust, or repairs.
Then we went over the car inch by inch. By inspection, we could see that there was no evidence of any corrosion or accident damage to the frame, and just a little normal body damage – dents and dings – but overspray around the trunk floor indicated the car had been repainted once. That kind of information is important when you start planning how you’ll approach the restoration, and how much work will be needed to put the car into the condition – daily driver, weekend ice-cream car, or Pebble Beach contender – you desire.
Photos of the chassis will provide important details for the restoration, including types of fasteners used and routing of cables and wires.
The fourth principle is to capture every possible piece of information about the car before and during the disassembly. During the initial inspection and continuously throughout the project, a camera and computer will be used more often than any other tools in the work.
With inexpensive cameras and computers, in this digital age, there is no real limit on the number of images you can grab and file. If you’re careful to take the pictures systematically and file them in chronological sequence, your computer will allow you to go back in time. Remember that when you first remove the screws and bolts holding an exterior system together, it will be a year – or two or three – before you’ll be reassembling that system again.
Our practice is to map the car with the camera before doing any disassembly. We photograph the car in overlapping layers, taking pictures of literally every square foot of the car, outside and inside, zooming in on minute details and zooming out for context as we progress.
Then, as each piece is removed, we continue to take photographs so that we can see the sequence of disassembly. A running joke in our business comes from the old workshop manuals: “Assembly is the reverse of disassembly.” For reference we catalog with the camera and in our notes every as-original piece as well as every unusual aspect of the car.
The final lesson for today is to be systematic and disciplined in the process of disassembly. By the time disassembly is finished, an integrated and perhaps running car will have been replaced by thousands of separate pieces, some as large and recognizable as a fender panel, but some as small as a baby’s fingernail. The task of the restorer is to document, label, package, and store every one of those individual pieces so they can be found again when they are needed.
To do that, we follow several practices. First, we keep all the parts for each car we work on together, using bins, trays, and shelves that can stay in one place. Second, as each individual component or set of like components, comes off the car, it is tagged, if it’s large, or placed in a plastic zip-lock bag or jar if it’s small, with each one labeled, and cross-referenced by code to the pictures we photographed of that system during disassembly.
We also keep a notebook for each car that records what was accomplished in each day’s work, adding specific reminders for later reference. If an item has to be sent out to a subcontractor for work, we record when and where it was sent, and when it’s expected back.
Throughout our years of working on classic cars – and being taught by people who did this kind of work before us – we’ve learned that there are no substitutes or shortcuts for this care and discipline in the earliest stages of any restoration. And we can recite horror stories around the coffee machine of parts that were lost and projects abandoned by people who didn’t follow these principles. Another motto is often heard around our shop… “God (or the devil) is in the details.” I’ll be sharing with you more about this car as work on it progresses.