1937 Pontiac 6 series 60 sedan
Part i: The Beginning
It started on a perfectly mild November day in Coronado, California - the sorta island suburb across the bay from San Diego. The old Pontiac hadn't been moved or much less touched for the better part of 40 years, entombed in it's back alley garage while the rest of the world continued to move around it. Time for this car had ceased sometime around when disco music began it's insidious crawl toward world domination. We pulled all the boxes and junk off the once sleek black body, hooked the winch around the front crossmember and slowly pulled the hesitant beast in to the daylight. After the car was securely on the trailer and we had every related item packed away, it was off in to the California sunset for the non-stop drive all the way up the west coast to it's temporary home for the next few years.
Back in 1937, a young man was just starting out in the world. We will call him "Mike" because that is what everybody calls him. Mike saw this beautiful Pontiac dealership floor model sedan late in the year and wanted it badly. His mother initially split the cost with him, then he bought her out and the car has been with him ever since. His new Pontiac 6 wasn't a hot rod by any means, but what a gorgeous vehicle to serve as a loyal companion. The car took him everywhere, eventually to Seattle, Washington with the U.S. Navy. It was at the Sandpoint Naval Air Station in Seattle that Mike's future wife Berdie met my grandfather, Andy. My grandparents and they became fast friends, taking the Pontiac all over to places such as Mount Baker in the North Cascades for skiing trips. For this trip which would begin a renewed life, it's easy to understand that Mike would be hesitant to part company with such a close friend who had been by his side for 70 years. While we loaded the last of the gear, Mike just looked longingly at his Pontiac. A look that only he can fully understand.
Aside from one scary last second, white-knuckled exit across I-5 to grab some In-N-Out burgers and admire the scattered wildfires throughout the L.A. hills, the journey north was fairly uneventful. We simply switched between driving and sleeping in 5-6 hour shifts, only stopping to refuel (or de-fuel). The beauty of having a turbo diesel tow rig is they will happily run continuously for hundreds and thousands of miles with no shortage of hauling power. Once we got home to the shop a curious neighbor came over and helped us unload it in to the driveway - this can be a scary experience with absolutely no braking power save for the slightest mechanical assistance from the tired parking brake cables. The obvious safe method here is to use the winch and reverse the direction which will painstakingly ease the vehicle down a centimeter at a time. If you have enough people it is not that dangerous to freewheel it down using very careful techniques such as intermittently chocking the tires. We chose the latter.
Keeping with the impatient theme, the disassembly commenced immediately at the hands of Greg, president and founder of Deuces Wild. This is the very last time the car will be in it's original form (or the latest form, at least), so we were certain to take as many reference photos as possible. They will prove to be the greatest asset when it comes time to reassemble the million pieces littering the shop and surrounding 100 yard radius. It is wise to use this time while getting to know every square inch of the vehicle to get a good assessment of everything that needs to be replaced, rebuilt or refinished. Since this car is a 1937 almost everything needed attention. We acquired any catalog we could find related to the car and found many Websites and online forums, as well. Once all the major items were priced out, proper replacements found, and a general idea of costs for all the unknowns was calculated, we sent the estimated cost to the owner and his son who handled much of the communications. There's an old adage that goes "whatever you estimate a restoration to cost, triple that figure and you are in the ballpark." While that is generally true, we tried to keep our numbers on the conservative side since we can do much of the work in-house.
Once the car was safely inside the confines of the shop we started crawling all over it, taking in the details and dousing any bolt or connector with WD-40®. At the first glance, this car appears very solid and complete. While this is true, you can never know what lies under the surface until you begin pulling it apart. While it's hard to tell from the photos, the body had some serious dents almost everywhere, but thankfully no major damage or missing components. The paint was intact but weathered, faded, cracked and pretty much damaged beyond any hope of retaining the original coat. The engine compartment and the underside were mildly to severely rusted and would need to be stripped and recoated. The interior - aside from a few things such as the woodgrained panels - was completely gone. The fabrics crumbled when touched, the steering wheel plastic rim was totally gone, headliner falling down, windows broken, etc. It will be overwhelming at times and when you have to deal with everything at once the process will intimidate even the most seasoned restorer. Take on single systems at a time and breaking those down to simple components keep it manageable.
The one absolutely undisputable, critical, must-have assistant that helped us more than anything is the service manual. Thankfully most are reprinted and sold on various sites like eBay and Amazon. We ordered the '37/'38 Pontiac service manual and the Fisher body manual as well (which is helpful but not really necessary). We constantly referenced the service manual throughout the rebuild. The body manual is certainly helpful in figuring out how parts such as the interior pieces go back together or how to attach them to the car. This restoration would be as stock as possible, so referencing these manuals is essential. From simple tasks such as routing vacuum lines to critical operations like engine head bolt torque sequence, they are undeniably worth their weight in gold.
After getting a rough estimate of the work that lie ahead, we discussed options with the owners. From the interior fabric materials and colors to the benefits of converting to a 12 volt electrical system, every piece of the car was discussed at some point. We had our basic gameplan laid out, and parts were boxed up and shipped out for repair, restore, or recycle. Many service items are still readily available from general auto parts stores and specialty aftermarket companies such as Kanter Auto in New Jersey. The initial focus was the chassis and suspension but very quickly expanded to the interior and mechanicals.