My phone rings, and from the other end of the line (yes, I still have a land line) comes the voice of good friend and super car guy Bob Austin. “Would you be a judge at a concours event?” asks Bob. “Sure,” I reply and quickly follow with questions about who, where, what, etc. Bob replies that those details are fluid as this future event will be a first time event and presently stands as a work in progress. He explains that he has been asked to oversee creation of this newborn event’s maiden voyage. What could possibly go wrong? Plenty, if you take your eye off the ball. Planning the event would challenge Bob’s sharp eye.

Let’s create a Concours d’Elegance! OK…How?

Named the Concours on the Palisades, the event came to life inspired by the local father’s efforts to focus public awareness on all that downtown Fort Lee, NJ has to offer. For those not from the area, Fort Lee offers spectacular views of Manhattan from its perch atop the Palisades cliffs that overlook the Hudson River that flows hundreds of feet below. At the start of the 20^th century Fort Lee served as home to the early film industry that would soon move to a place called Hollywood. It also anchors the New Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge. Save for major highways converging at the GW Bridge, Centuries old Fort Lee consists of predominantly two-lane streets.

Those with a memory for political theater may recall those predominantly two-lane streets were used to strangle the life out of, then, New Jersey Governor Chris Christy’s 2016 Presidential bid. At that time NJ state officials were accused of knowingly obstructing local traffic lanes going to the bridge at rush hour as revenge for a perceived political slight. The action choked commuter traffic back to the Delaware River (Yes, I am exaggerating but not much). Location for the Concours would be many of those same downtown streets. The Main Street, a quarter mile from the GW entrance, would be chock-a-block with classic and super cars for the concours. It, however, would be held on a Sunday.

James Liu, Bob Austin, Denis Glennon

The planning that went on in advance to make this work smoothly would fill […]

Miles Collier, writing in the August 2022 issue of Sports Car Market spoke to his belief that “the restoration of a car either produces an archetype that embodies the standard characteristics of that vehicle or a portrait that serves as an evocation of someone or something, that attempts to capture the essence of that someone or something.”

Collier states, “The restoration process always transforms, even destroys the past, if only by severing the car’s most important relationship, its connection to the selfsame and irrecoverable past.” He believes that the end result, no matter how meticulous and faithful the effort, will achieve no more than an approximation of the automobile’s lost reality.

His point is that the evidence of human stories engraved in the material fabric of the car makes it an emotional and powerful historical artifact that honors the car’s relationship to time and use.

His words made me reflect on the 1961 Corvette I have owned since 1967 and retained as original until a restoration necessitated by a fire in 2017.

The following looks at the restoration effort of my Corvette in the light of Miles Collier’s beliefs.

To provide a sense of the Corvette’s accrued life, times and use that translated into my, then, unrestored Corvette’s rich patina, I will begin with a piece I wrote for Hemmings to celebrate my 50^th year of ownership.

 Applying Miles Collier’s archetype versus portrait conventions in assessing the restoration of my 1961 Corvette

Summer 1967 witnessed the Beatles joining Sergeant Pepper’s Band and marching off the touring circuit for good at the same time that 100,000 hippies descended on San Francisco for the “Summer of Love.” It may have been ’67 but I would experience it like Route 66.

Still a teenager, my summer of ‘67 was to be an American Graffiti experience rich with Jersey Shore adventures and cruising main streets across Bergen County and beyond.

My sophomore year at Newark College of Engineering, now NJIT, was in the books and the bill for first semester of my junior year fast approached. Tuition for the next semester loomed as the princely sum of $220.

With my sister Dorothy in 1967

Having just sold my 1959 MGA for $325, I was working hard at two jobs because I wanted to buy a Corvette as well as pay for school.

The ad […]