A Faded Patina of Intrigue
They say all good things must come to an end, and thus we have this poor veteran doing time on an ignoble car lot in Allentown, PA. You might recall this location as the site of my FC-150. Like that monument to four-wheeled awesome, this car deserves rescue and appreciation but before that can happen, let’s take a moment and study it a bit because it’s too dignified to beg. For starters, we here at Hooniverse seem to have an unintentional affection for old panzer-benzes, and this would most definitely deserve it: a classic Fintail of timeless elegance and beauty, even when left abandoned. Yet there’s something of an identity crisis of history at play here, and the stripped model badge on the trunk is only the tip of the iceberg. The Fintail Benz signified the W111 platform from 1959 to 1968, and was the lauded forebearer of the subsequently designated Mercedes S-class. The fintails were somewhat controversial; supposedly added to lend belatedly understated appeal toward American sensibilities of the time, the cars were not actually made available on the west side of the Atlantic until 1960. Additionally, the W111 Cabriolet and coupe were not graced with the Heckflosse treatment. Wikipedia and few other aggregate sites state the the cars that were bound for the United States recieved unique, stacked headlights to conform to US DOT regulation; european fintails sport flush, one-piece headlight covers, and also lack the inboard projectile parking indicators. So it appears we do have a US-spec car. Even more tellingly, we can allegedly peg this as an early (1960) 220-S due to the chrome strip on the sides – a briefly used, US-specific cue. So if this us a car built to US-spec for export and sale over here, then what of all the weatherbeaten medals of European heritage and origin on the grille? Did this car travel back across the pond and rack up serious time and meritorious service, before a discharge back to the ignobility of the Allentown convalescent lot? I’m hoping the more well-versed and well-traveled of our readership can help out here. The 200,000KM medal is of obvious origin and purpose; before you snicker about it, recall that 124K miles was (and still is) a pretty big deal for a gasser of 1960’s vintage. Several automakers used to offer such trinkets before the Japanese made such acheivments boring and mundane. But what of all the others? It appears this car is decorated with medallions and honorifics from a veritable smorgasboard of european car clubs. Were these from clubs that had US chapters, or did a car have to be registered locally to their respective HQs to earn respect and notoriety? And what are they, in the first place? Working roughly clockwise from the top, I’ve only been able to identify a handful of them, and so far it’s not clarifying this car’s history. The “TCS” badge with the Swiss crest was easy. The Touring Club Suisse <a href=”http://www.tcs.ch/main/fr/home.html”>still has a website (not that I can read it)…</a> but its name lends a general enough description to its purpose. According to Wikipedia (which might be taken with a grain of salt where Euro-to-‘Merican translations are concerned), its primary function is to “serve stranded motorists”. Which would make them a Swiss AAA. From northern Europe we move southwest to the Atlantic coast of Spain and the small province of Guipuzcoa. This is the smallest province of Spain, and noted for its rugged, mountainous geography. The “Real Automovilklub de Guipuzcoa” has proved more esoteric in Google, but a few interesting tidbits have turned up. The Automovilklub seems to have disappeared, but an outfit called the Real Motoclub de Guipuzcoa has survived since 1913 with a focus on motorcycles. But would you believe I found an auction site selling the same medal that our mystery veteran wears? Yours for 80 Euros. (I can’t help wondering about the emphasis on the word “real”; Filmation wasn’t building cars in Spain, were they?) I can’t identify the faded medal on the bottom right. It looks like it may say “Espana” and the remnants of the yellow middle band would correlate to that, but I can’t find any active Spanish clubs using similar insignia. The primary auto club in Spain is <a href=”http://www.race.es/”>RACE</a> – the Royal Automovil Club de Espana – and is another general-interest, AAA-like organization. Their logo is quite different however. The badge on the bottom left is potentially interesting and rare. It’s virtually illegible in the photo, but by pure dumb luck I found a site selling knock-offs of the Automobile Club de France‘s medallions. The knock-offs are slightly different, while the one on our Fintail is of legitimately aged pedigree. So why is that interesting? It seems the <a href=”http://www.automobileclubdefrance.fr/”>ACF</a> began not as a “AAA” type organization, but as more of an exclusive gentleman’s club of the highest order. With a legacy of ownership stakes in castles and villas, and membership ranks of famous and eminent names, the ACF was not originally founded to be your french granny’s tow truck broker. Oh, but they did pause from sniffing brandy, defeating womens’ suffrage, and ______ long enough to found The 24 Hours of LeMans. Even if today’s ACF has evolved to serve a broader, more watered-down clientele, was this the case 50 years ago? A century ago they may as well have been Free Masons. Even today, they maintain several exclusive clubs and properties. Sadly, the next two on the left side are a complete mystery. They’re just as illegibly faded as the ACF’s below, but dumb luck did not come to my rescue this time. Who will step up to the plate? Moving across to our final two in the center then… Few things say “Norway” like “Kongelig Norsk Automobilklub“, and indeed, I found this club <a href=”http://www.kna.no/”>still active with its own website</a>. Once again, my mono-linguistics fail me, but their association with FiA seems intriguing. Is it yet another general-interest AAA-type organization, or one with more noble and exclusive goals, like the ACF? Finally, we get to what may be the most interesting one on the car. The “AIT” logo is still in use, representing the <a http://www.aitgva.ch/AIT_Site/Public/AreasOfActivity/Motoring.htm”>Alliance Internationale de Tourisme</a>. Now this is where it gets interesting. The AIT is more of an international aggregate corporation that serves to “represent the interests of national automobile associations and touring clubs”. This includes each of the aforementioned European entities, the American AAA, and clubs throughout Asia, South America, and elsewhere. As such, AIT doesn’t solicit or endorse membership by individuals. People don’t join the AIT, auto clubs (and/or their combined management) do, to further their collective interests on a geopolitical scale. So it seems odd that an individual could obtain a badge from the AIT for an individual car. What would such a person be promoting? Why would the AIT seek to recognize such a person or vehicle? What prestige would adorning one’s car with figurehead initials afford? So, what say you, esteemed readers, historians, jokers, and hoons? Did this car earn a reputation as a globetrotter of high pedigree? Or was it merely the conveyance of an owner with an eclectic taste for secondary honorifics? Does the AIT badge mean anything, was the ACF medal from a secret society, or would you yourself just try to “collect ’em all” whatever the cost to pocketbook and dignity?