As I have mentioned in my previous COALs, my extended family is crazy about classic cars. Most of my Dad’s brothers owned at least one, if not several. After several trips to Hershey and countless car shows, this became an increasingly obvious hole (to me, anyway) in our family motor pool. Once I got my driver’s license, I really wanted a different driving experience than was otherwise available with contemporary cars (realizing that the mid-’80s was pretty much the nadir of engine power).
So around my junior or senior year of high school (1985), I started lobbying my parents to get an older car. I figured my Dad would be fairly receptive, given the healthy dose of friendly competition between him and his brothers. But a surprising ally came in the form of my mother, who seemed to encourage this purchase as well (or at least not discourage it). Yes, I am talking about the same Mom who wanted the appliance car featured in my last COAL. Maybe she realized that it would be a good family bonding activity between Dad, my brother Andy, and me (which it was).
While the budget Mom gave us to work with (about $2,000) doesn’t seem like much, back in the mid 80’s many of the cars we now consider to be classics were just used cars. Armed only with newspaper classified ads in this pre-internet era, Andy and I began our search. I don’t think we knew exactly what we looking for, given that we were all over the place in our searches. I recall looking at everything from Corvairs to Corvettes, from 50’s lead sleds to 70’s luxo barges.
However, we soon started to dial in our focus. After test-driving a few convertibles and greatly enjoying the experience, a ragtop quickly moved to the top of our requirements list. Another realization was that we wanted to spend more time driving and showing than wrenching, so no basketcases. To get the kind of reliability we wanted pretty much meant a mid- to late-60’s GM car. Actually, this is still good advice for anyone getting started in the hobby: 60’s GM cars are generally of good quality, easy to repair, and most importantly, abundant, which makes them cheap to acquire and get parts for.
With our renewed focus, we soon located a 1971 Buick LeSabre convertible in Bamboo Cream with a Sandalwood vinyl interior. I was hoping to find a GM intermediate and not a full-size, but being in higher demand decent examples of intermediates were out of our price range. The LeSabre we found was just about flawless, and being 15 years old was at the bottom of its depreciation curve and therefore nicely fit our budget.
The actual transaction went down almost like a drug deal: My mom met the owner in the parking lot of a Bob Evans, literally with a briefcase full of cash. The dead presidents were exchanged for the title and car. All that was missing was Crockett and Tubbs, and some nose candy in the trunk.
The first thing my brother and I did when we got the car was to go on a road trip to Indiana to get some fireworks (which are illegal in Ohio). Pretty trusting of us for a 15-year-old car with literally no mechanical going over (not even checking the tire pressure). Luckily, the Buick rewarded our faith with an incident-free trip. And then we drove it and drove it some more. I would guess that we were putting 5000+ miles per year on it for a while, which is pretty heavy usage for a non-daily driver classic car.
Our LeSabre was not very well equipped, unusual for a Buick. The only option it did have was air conditioning: Otherwise, it was crank windows, manual locks, and a single non-powered, non-split front bench seat. While 1971 Buicks were available with engines up to a 4-bbl 455 big block, ours made do with the 350 2-bbl V8, the smallest engine Buick sold in their full-sized line that year. However, its free-breathing 230 hp and 350 ft-lb. of torque compared favorably to the emissions-strangled cars of the ’80s, and the power was more than adequate for our cruising duties.
We loved this car. Andy and I (and sometimes my Dad) would fight over who got to drive it, although Dad always got first dibs. Living in a small town frequently meant that there wasn’t much to do on the weekends. No problem here: My friends and I would pile into the Buick, drop the top, and just drive around town, sometimes for hours on end.
As we had hoped, the Buick provided many years of trouble-free motoring (GM really did make good cars at one time). Dad also did a good job of keeping the car maintained. Shortly after we got it, he replaced the top. The paint, despite our best buffing efforts, was a little dull, so he had it repainted in the original color. Other than replacing a rotted radiator, it was mostly wear items we had to deal with (tires, belts, shocks) over the years.
My brother Andy did hit a deer driving to work after I had left for college. The hood was damaged, but the grille was undamaged – a testament to the heavy die-cast grilles used back then. I managed to locate a replacement hood in a junkyard (again, a much more difficult job back in the day before the internet), but we were never able to find a replacement trim piece for the hood leading edges, which always bugged me for the remainder of the time that we owned it. If you look closely at the newer pictures, you can see where the piece is missing.
Other niggles were small: The boot was finicky to attach. It has plastic tabs that you were supposed to slip under the trim pieces around the rear body opening. In practice, these plastic tabs broke off, or dug into the paint and caused it to chip off. As a result, we only used the boot on special occasions. We even attempted to find a fiberglass parade boot on our many trips to Hershey but were never successful. Nowadays, of course, one is just a Google search away.
Without any form of wind blocker other than the windshield, the interior was a very windy, noisy place to be with the top down, especially in the back seat which had virtually no wind protection. On the freeway, it was impossible to have a conversation with the person in the passenger seat, much less anyone unfortunate enough to be seated in the “Power Seat” (as we lovingly referred to the back seat).
The Buick became like a fifth family member, attending all our major family functions. Mom even treated it to special “collector vehicle” license plates, since not yet being 25 years old it was not eligible for antique auto license plates.
When Andy got married in 1992, the thought of renting a limo never even crossed our minds. The bride and groom would of course ride in the Buick, with me as their chauffeur. He would return the favor to me when I got married in 2000.
As the years went on, Andy and I started our own families and had less time to devote to the Buick. Dad mostly let it sit in his later years, due to failing health. By the early 2000s, Mom said it was time to let the Buick go. She offered it to both me and Andy before selling it. With two little kids, I did not really have the time to take it on, nor did I have a place to keep it, nor the financial wherewithal to repair the growing list of mechanical issues it had begun to accumulate. Plus, after 15+ years of ownership, I was ready for a change. If I ever got a classic car, it would be different. Andy also passed on the Buick for the same reasons, so Mom ended up selling it to one of my uncles, who resold it shortly thereafter.
This was the COAL I both most looked forward to writing and most dreaded, because of all the emotions involved. It was hard letting the car go, but I’ve still got the memories and, more importantly for you, the photos. But most importantly, it shaped my present self in many ways I could not have anticipated: It left me with an appetite for both convertibles and classic cars, a legacy that persists to this day, as we will examine in future COALs.
My grandmother drove a 1971 Buick LeSabre two door when I was a boy.
I just can’t get past the looks of the 71 Buick B/C. Great read Tom. Touching.
What an amazing story, and truly a beautiful car! Hell, I feel newly inspired to buy a classic.
I swore when I was young, you’d never hear me say “I wish I’d kept that car”. As a result, all my memories are either in the garage or on the property. And that still doesn’t stop me from acquiring a new “classic” now and then!
This is a lovely story of a very special car. Thank you. Great pictures. Years ago I sold a few cars that meant something to me, in some delusional moment, and regretted it. Since then, I’ve kept my cars. If I lose interest I put them away until circumstances make them appealing again.
Me too. Still have my first one.
One of the things that comes out of your article is that what we now consider classic cars were nothing more than used cars a number of years earlier. When we were looking for an antique for me back in the summer of 1968, my father somehow got a lead on a clean, virtually original (the ignition key had been relocated due to the mechanical failure of the original) 1937 Buick Special 2-door sedan with the luggage back (as opposed to the hump trunk). It was owned by a retired school teacher who used to bring it in to dad’s Chevrolet dealership for service because she was afraid to drive up the narrow ramp to the second floor service department of the Buick dealership just down the street.
Clean, original, always garaged, a bit of wear on the paint due to repeated polishings, the interior was mint (due to seat covers having been put on the seats within a week of the original purchase) other than a very worn driver’s door armrest.
The deal was quickly made. $400.00. To put this in perspective, back then you could buy a new car for $2000.00, and my first new car (’73 Vega GT) stickered at $2300.00.
And in 1968, with the vintage car hobby in the earliest days of the juggernaut – a ‘collectible car’ back then was: anything Auburn, Cord, Duesenberg, Packard, Model T, Model A, 30’s V-8 Ford or pre-WWI – you could buy just about anything not on that list for less than $500.00. And local antique shows would be unrestored cars outnumbering frame-up restorations. The latter were pretty much limited to that aforementioned list, because you wouldn’t get your money back if you bothered to spend it.
Million dollar cars? Or the (reverse) inflationary equivalent? Duesenbergs could pull in $10,000.00 for a mint example, which would usually get a gasp from a show-goer, stunned that an ‘old car’ could possibly be worth that kind of money.
Tom writes: “This was the COAL I both most looked forward to writing and most dreaded,”
And now we all know why.
Very nice story of a beautiful car in a loving family. You picked a perfect year for the Buick; IMO it all started to go downhill for the big GMs after the 1972 model year.
Agreed. The writing appeared in ’72, the demise complete when the B-rags disappeared after ’75.
Great post, Tom.
Posts like these are one of the biggest reasons why I read this blog. I’m glad you chose to share your story with us.
When I was in high school, a buddy had a 1972 Centurion convertible, white over red, with a 455 and every option in the book. It would go rather fast if you could wait for it.
Wind buffeting in the rear seat gets really ridiculous at triple-digit speeds.
They guy’s father, (who was the registered owner of the car) was the Attorney General for the county, which helped avoid a lot of tickets 🙂
True COAL! Thanks for sharing the story of this car that obviously saw you and your family through some watershed moments.
You’re a great writer, Tom. Thank you for this great piece. Beautiful LeSabre.
Tom, I enjoyed this because of the subject car and the long time ownership.
I admire you and the family for nursing such a barge along for so many years. I had the opportunity but couldn’t do it. My first “classic” (old) car was a red ’72 LeSabre convertible, equipped like yours but without air. Crank windows, AM radio, 350.
My ownership was relatively sort – about four years from 1980. I did paint the car and replace steelies and wheel covers with Buick sport wheels. I reversed the whitewalls for black too.
I enjoyed the car as a second, hobby car. At a time when my friends were driving Accords, Passats, Volvos and the like I did have something quite different (also obsolete).
Yours was pretty and you remember it well.
Your Buick was a good year – one of the last. Smog regulation had some minor effect on ’71s & 72s, but they still worked well. I was a mechanic at a Ford/Mercury dealership when the new 73’s arrived. All makes really developed drivability problems in ’73. Power, fuel economy and drivability only got worse from there. Electronics capable of coping with tightening emissions regulations just didn’t exist back then. As mechanics, we we were told that Ford engineers were so tied up with developing systems to comply with new regulations that there was no time to put engineering into anything else. I’d assume GM and Chrysler had similar issues. I’ve always considered 1972 models from any maker to be the last year practical to keep as a classic. Cars built from 1973 until the late ’80s all suffer from the mismatch between emission goals and the technology available to actually reach those goals.
Tom, that was an excellently written piece. Believe me I know how difficult it can be to write about a time and car that spanned young adulthood. Thank you for sharing a significant piece of your life with us!
This car is beautifully designed. The muted color makes is actually stand out for the gracious lines and perfect proportions.
Kudos to your dad who kept it up all this time!
And congrats to your mom, the non-traditional student and supporter of family affairs!
Looking in the background of your pictures it appears to be 100% GM with perhaps one exception. Hard to do today!
Oh, for a time when cars like these were just good used cars.
I wonder what cars today are the good used cars we wish people would buy and love because we’ll care in 10-20 years.
Thank you, Tom. I’m a big ol’ fat man in his mid-50’s (Texan at that and we aren’t supposed to get too emotional about such things) but I started getting pretty verklempt even before I read your last paragraph.
Great car, great story, great family, and wonderful memories. Perhaps the current owner will enjoy it as much as your family did. .By the way, your mom must be really cool. Props to her.
Great car and writeup. I had a ’74 LeSabre convertible. In red over white it was your classic American convertible. I feel sorry for those who will never have the experience of piloting one of these land yachts, it was truly something. It may not have been enthusiast motoring but a different kind of fun. I remember picking a friend up at night and he said “I knew it was you blocks away, no other car had headlights so far apart!”
In the end continuing scissor top problems and 9 mpg in a daily driver made me give it up.
I always thought this series of Buicks were particularly good looking. The way the fender and the hood prow and the side coves flowed together was masterful.
Who has conversations in convertibles?
Outstanding article. Car ownership that spans several stages of an owner’s life can produce great stories — thanks for sharing yours.
I vividly remember scouring the Sunday classified ads for suitable cars around the time I got my driver’s license. Actually, it started a few years before I got my license. Every Sunday I would painstakingly read the classifieds and circle ads for cars that might be within my reach in 2-3 years. And of course, I’d then bore my parents with the details of each ad. I’m pretty sure my folks dreaded weekend mornings for exactly that reason.
The cars of this era are truly underrated. There really is nothing like driving my 75 Delta 88 convertible especially in today’s traffic. Owning the road, people showing respect for you since they know f we hit I will surely win. Thumbs up at lights by BMW and all sorts of exotics drivers. Brakes that are sure, radials and a somewhat underpowered 350V8 but once momentum kicks in, you’re doing triple digit and not realizing it! Scissor tops aside there is nothing that cannot be easily fixed at not a king’s ransom. Glad my Dad bought it new and I am the caretaker of it for my son who would love it now but will have to wait. There will be no wistful “should have kept it “from this family!
Hi all, it’s Tom’s Mom. I’m fascinated by these blogs because it’s the same life but from a different perspective.
The exchange of dead presidents for car and title absolutely happened. The young man who sold us the car wanted cash and only small bills. I have no idea why, and thought it best not to ask. I did get strange looks at the bank when I asked for $2000 in small bills.
PS. I’m not all that cool, fintail jim, but thanks for the compliment.
Ma’am, you brought up a fine-writing son. And yes, you are way cool.
Who is cutting onions in here? Best COAL ever.
Awesome car and write-up, Tom. Having a car in the family for all those years is a remarkable feat, and surely one that stirs a lot of emotions. I always loved the look of the early 70’s Buicks – clean, no gimmicks, just class written all over them. Yours was a very rich color too. The right color combo made all the difference in the world.
Tom,
This is a great blog and the photos bring back many wonderful memories!!!!
Keep up the good work
Mike
OMG! I owned a Buick exactly like that one! What a great car and I had all kinds of fun with it. The top was down every chance I got. I didn’t have any trouble with the boot on mine. I guess there was a little more room between the metal trim and the body on mine. What a blast from the past!
Don’t know which of my convertibles I liked more this one or my first car, a 1961 Pontiac Bonneville.
Thanks for the memories, Greg Mayne
What a beautiful Buick! The styling really was just right on the full-size models at that time, and the fact that it had A/C made it a viable cruiser top up or down. Sounds like it was part of many family memories…it must have been hard to let it go, but hopefully whomever owns it now is making the same sort of memories with the Buick. Thanks for sharing your story with us!
You wrote “non-split” front seat. Had to be split in some way.
And what’s under the LeSabre name? Is it Custom or Deluxe?
He meant this was a typical 2-door Buick bench seat vs. bucket seats. Naturally, the seat back would be split and would fold, but the seat portion is not split. That’s a Custom logo. There was just the base LeSabre and LeSabre Custom in ’71. The convertible only came in Custom trim.
I bought a 1971 LeSabre for my dog who sheds too much to be in a car with a roof. With the top down my dog leaves his hair all around town and the car stays fairly dog hair free. I win twice!