Curbside Classic: 1975 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow – Stuck In The In-Between

In December of 2011, I came across this car, one of my most momentous Curbside Classic finds up to that time.  I can remember when Silver Shadows were sometimes seen on television, and (rarely) in my midwestern version of IRL (what my kids used to say instead of saying “in real life”).  By 2011, you almost never saw a Silver Shadow either on or off screen.  So, you can imagine my excitement, as a guy relatively new to the constant hunt for CC material, at finding this genuine CC-quality Roller.

And then the problems started.

This was going to take a lot of research.  For instance, what year was this example?   I knew that the rubber-clad bumpers put it later in the model’s life cycle, but that was the best I could manage.  Life was busy and I had a whole bagful of photos that I could turn into CC pieces with so much less effort.  And so one year turned to another and, well, here we are.

The good news is that in the interim, Tatra87 has done the heavy-lifting and gone into the weeds of Rolls-Royce-dom, relieving me of that burden.  And now, as I continue to occasionally scroll through my old photos for cars that still deserve exposure here, this old Rolls once again tapped me on the shoulder and ever-so-politely whispered into my ear “Pardon me, old man, do you have a few moments to spare?”  And, at long last, I am able to answer “Of course.  Please step over here and tell me about yourself.”  Sadly, this car is not the talkative type, so I am left on my own to imagine its story.

The last time I got serious about writing this one up, I deduced that it must have been made around 1975.  But I have forgotten why I came to that conclusion and declined to go down that rabbit hole again.   OK, I ran back into the hole really quickly and was reminded that the 1977 Silver Shadow II made some changes to the dash and console areas, and this is the older Silver Shadow I.

I like to think that this car was delivered to Albers Rolls-Royce in Zionsville, Indiana.  Zionsville is a small bedroom community northwest of Indianapolis, and was for many years home to the only Rolls-Royce dealership in the state of Indiana.  That business is still around as the place to go for parts and service on Crewe-built Rolls-Royces and Bentleys.  Perhaps old Herman Albers himself sold this fine motorcar to one of the more monied families in Indianapolis.

Could it have been someone like Ruth Lilly?  Ruth was the great-granddaughter of Col. Eli Lilly who started a small pharmaceutical company in 1876.  You may have heard of it.  Anyway, would this not have been the perfect car to ferry an aging and increasingly reclusive philanthropist on her rare forays out of the house?  I like to think so.

It is undoubtedly pure coincidence that I photographed this car about two years after Ms. Lilly’s death at the age of 94 in December, 2009.  But my, how terribly this poor thing was treated in the time before I saw it in December of 2011.  Or perhaps the next owner learned that the care and feeding of an aging Rolls-Royce is not a task to be taken on by someone without a stout heart and a bank account with more than a single comma.

When a Rolls degrades to the point where it suffers the ills of lesser old cars, it can suffer an existential crisis.  “What am I, and where is my place in the world?”  That bottle of Castrol on the back seat is not at all the same thing as Grey Poupon.

This car sports these highly unusual wheel covers – or at least three of them.

Can you imagine being the guy who was responsible for losing one of them?  But the gentlemen at Albers would probably fix you right up with another.  It probably would not cost more than $2,000 or so for a N.O.S example.

When these were new, I considered them the most elegant of cars.  To this day, when someone mentions “Rolls-Royce”, this is the car that comes into my mind.  It was what a new Rolls looked like from the time I was old enough to pay attention to cars (1965) until my adulthood when I was old enough to know that I would never be able to afford one (1980).  Scratch that – if we are willing to relax our standards a bit, I can claim to be a Silver Shadow owner based on the Hot Wheels version somewhere in my basement.  But I would understand if some in the Rolls-Royce community object to my inclusion within their ranks.  The Silver Spirit which followed these cars starting in 1980 was definitely more modern, but lacked some of the elegance that I saw in the Shadow.

So, can you blame me for wanting to take this poor example home and give it some love and affection?  Of course, love and affection (and elbow grease) might bring a decent shine out of that paint and chrome.  And then again, it might not, as I recall that the paint would probably prompt a “Tsk-Tsk” from those who love these cars.  Sadly, we all know that love and affection without the addition of cold, hard cash (and lots of it) would not likely get a person very far with one of these.

And that is the most maddening thing about this car:  Its condition is clearly too good to write it off as a hopeless hooptie.  But it is not anywhere near nice enough to be what the car is supposed to be – an elegant conveyance for well-to-do members to take to the club for a day on the links or to a formal charity gala in the evening so as to be able to write large cheques.  So there the poor thing sits (or at least sat) – stuck in the In Between.  A 2019 movie of the same title described “the in-between” as a window between life and death, where souls can communicate with one another.

After I took these photos, I never saw this car again.  Could it and I have briefly shared some odd paranormal dimension where it was trying to communicate something with me?  We will never know, but perhaps this old Rolls can rest a little easier (wherever it might be) knowing that I have finally fulfilled my duty and shared something of its story.  If only from my imagination.