Post by Mike B on Dec 9, 2008 3:57:59 GMT -4
Bill Meier was looking death square in the face back in 2004 when he made a pact with Steve Martin, a longtime friend who shared his affection for fine automobiles.
Especially one: Meier’s gold 1975 Buick LeSabre Custom convertible.
“In his final stages, the car is one of the things we talked about,” Martin recalled this week. “He said, ‘You’ve always liked the Buick, and I was wondering if you are interested in having it.’ He told me to figure out a fair price and make a deal with his wife Pat after he was gone.”
Meier paused, then added one caveat. “Your garage is heated and air conditioned, right?” Martin said it was. He knew the Buick always had been pampered, and vowed to continue the tradition.
So ever since that 2004 exchange, the car has a name and a heritage. It’s called, simply, “Bill’s car.”
“This was a car he loved, so I’ve kept it up just like he did,” Martin said. Not that there has been much to do since he acquired the Buick — the car is mechanically sound and drives smooth and strong on the highway.
Not much compares to tooling down Ind. 37 in a 20-foot-long car, the sun glistening off the golden hood, your hair whipping around in the breeze. (OK, my hair was blowing all around; Martin is short on hair, and wore a straw hat.)
A sports car with the top down is one thing. But driving a 6,290-pound, full-sized Buick LeSabre is like flying a Learjet, with no thingypit to contain you. Wide-open sky and sunshine.
You don’t see many cars like this around; Buick made just 5,300 of this particular car in 1975. It has power everything, including the convertible top.
Martin is the car’s third owner. Meier purchased it in July 1995 from the original owner, who had turned 75 and decided to sell the giant Buick with just 57,000 miles on the odometer. Martin doesn’t know the man’s name, but his Bloomington Elks Club parking sticker from the 1970s still is visible on the front windshield. “It’s always been a local car,” Martin said.
In 1996, Meier sent a photo of the car to Classic Auto Restorer magazine for use in their publication. He said the car had never been driven in winter and was always kept covered inside a garage.
“We have replaced all the rubber hoses, belts and tires,” he wrote. “It needed a general tune-up and the air conditioning had to be rebuilt. We also had the sides painted due to numerous door dings, but the horizontal surfaces are still the original paint.”
Charlie Axsom, who owned the old Sunoco service station on North Walnut Street, was his mechanic.
Meier and his wife drove the car, but not often. Martin and his wife have done the same to keep the mileage low; the odometer turned to 63,644 miles on Wednesday.
You might find the Buick on Kirkwood Avenue early on Sunday mornings parked outside Trinity Episcopal Church. “It only goes on beautiful, sunny days,” he said.
When Martin has work done on the convertible, he takes the car to Curry Buick, where a mechanic familiar with cars from the era takes car of its needs.
“He works half days, and I schedule any maintenance for when he is there,” Martin said. “Most of the kids in there have to hook up the car’s computer to find out what’s wrong.”
With the Buick, a mechanic has to look and listen to determine the trouble.
He had to replace a transmission belt once, and that’s pretty much it. This winter, though, the car is going in for some cosmetic work: a new white convertible top and carpeting to replace the faded and dated three-decades-old short-shag gold.
Martin once owned another giant convertible — a 1968 Cadillac DeVille, “an absolutely beautiful car,” he said. But he moved to a new house with less garage space, and the Caddy had to go.
For now, he is happy with Bill’s Buick. He thinks of his friend every time he drives the car.
When he bought it, Meier’s IU baseball cap was lying in the back seat. Martin folded in the sides and put it in the glove box.
“Bill rides with me in the car,” he said.
by Laura Lane H-T columnist | lane@heraldt.com
Especially one: Meier’s gold 1975 Buick LeSabre Custom convertible.
“In his final stages, the car is one of the things we talked about,” Martin recalled this week. “He said, ‘You’ve always liked the Buick, and I was wondering if you are interested in having it.’ He told me to figure out a fair price and make a deal with his wife Pat after he was gone.”
Meier paused, then added one caveat. “Your garage is heated and air conditioned, right?” Martin said it was. He knew the Buick always had been pampered, and vowed to continue the tradition.
So ever since that 2004 exchange, the car has a name and a heritage. It’s called, simply, “Bill’s car.”
“This was a car he loved, so I’ve kept it up just like he did,” Martin said. Not that there has been much to do since he acquired the Buick — the car is mechanically sound and drives smooth and strong on the highway.
Not much compares to tooling down Ind. 37 in a 20-foot-long car, the sun glistening off the golden hood, your hair whipping around in the breeze. (OK, my hair was blowing all around; Martin is short on hair, and wore a straw hat.)
A sports car with the top down is one thing. But driving a 6,290-pound, full-sized Buick LeSabre is like flying a Learjet, with no thingypit to contain you. Wide-open sky and sunshine.
You don’t see many cars like this around; Buick made just 5,300 of this particular car in 1975. It has power everything, including the convertible top.
Martin is the car’s third owner. Meier purchased it in July 1995 from the original owner, who had turned 75 and decided to sell the giant Buick with just 57,000 miles on the odometer. Martin doesn’t know the man’s name, but his Bloomington Elks Club parking sticker from the 1970s still is visible on the front windshield. “It’s always been a local car,” Martin said.
In 1996, Meier sent a photo of the car to Classic Auto Restorer magazine for use in their publication. He said the car had never been driven in winter and was always kept covered inside a garage.
“We have replaced all the rubber hoses, belts and tires,” he wrote. “It needed a general tune-up and the air conditioning had to be rebuilt. We also had the sides painted due to numerous door dings, but the horizontal surfaces are still the original paint.”
Charlie Axsom, who owned the old Sunoco service station on North Walnut Street, was his mechanic.
Meier and his wife drove the car, but not often. Martin and his wife have done the same to keep the mileage low; the odometer turned to 63,644 miles on Wednesday.
You might find the Buick on Kirkwood Avenue early on Sunday mornings parked outside Trinity Episcopal Church. “It only goes on beautiful, sunny days,” he said.
When Martin has work done on the convertible, he takes the car to Curry Buick, where a mechanic familiar with cars from the era takes car of its needs.
“He works half days, and I schedule any maintenance for when he is there,” Martin said. “Most of the kids in there have to hook up the car’s computer to find out what’s wrong.”
With the Buick, a mechanic has to look and listen to determine the trouble.
He had to replace a transmission belt once, and that’s pretty much it. This winter, though, the car is going in for some cosmetic work: a new white convertible top and carpeting to replace the faded and dated three-decades-old short-shag gold.
Martin once owned another giant convertible — a 1968 Cadillac DeVille, “an absolutely beautiful car,” he said. But he moved to a new house with less garage space, and the Caddy had to go.
For now, he is happy with Bill’s Buick. He thinks of his friend every time he drives the car.
When he bought it, Meier’s IU baseball cap was lying in the back seat. Martin folded in the sides and put it in the glove box.
“Bill rides with me in the car,” he said.
by Laura Lane H-T columnist | lane@heraldt.com