Car Shows

Here in America, the automobile is far more than a means of transportation. Our cars are vehicles of personal freedom to go where we want when we want. When we get behind that wheel and wake up the power of two or three hundred horses under the hood, the open road beckons and an enormous nation full of possibilities becomes accessible on our terms. As the common metaphor goes, “We are in the driver’s seat,” when we sit in that position looking out through the windshield, we take control of our destination and our journey. To control our own destiny is the American way, and the automobile is a symbol of our bold independence. To put it simply, we love our cars.

We love our cars so much that the automobile has long been one of the classic icons of American life. The type of vehicle we drive is often a statement of style, culture, or politics. The full-size pickup truck and the sports coup convey very different statements of cultural and personal preferences and values, neither good nor bad, but distinct. On our highways and city streets, these different styles mostly coexist but do not intermingle.

Enter the great American car show, a community event of enduring appeal for more than a century. What’s the appeal? To gain more insight I called up my long-time friend and car show enthusiast Keal Vigil. 

“For me, it’s just enjoying the camaraderie,” said Vigil. Vigil has always been particularly interested in muscle cars of the 1960s and he currently owns a 1962 Ford Galaxie. He works on it enough to keep it running but isn’t fanatical about restoration like some enthusiasts. As a freelance photographer who likes autos, car shows are the perfect opportunity to blend two different interests. Many of the striking images in this article are Vigil’s work.

Vigil told me that car show people come from all walks of life. You get people who are into everything from muscle cars to trucks and vintage classics to new models. But, in general, the car owners at the shows all appreciate what the other styles bring to the lot. It occurred to me while speaking with my friend that the car show is one of those perfect venues where differences that might otherwise be cause for division fade into the background, making room for humanity and community to shine. We need more of that these days.

I attended a car show in the small town of Howard, Colorado, near Salida. The town had recently lost one of its long-time residents, Stan Francis, who was a local legend for his lifetime of work restoring old classics, some of which date back to the 1910s. The peaks of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains provided a scenic backdrop for the shined up 1950s-era pick-ups and 1960s classic muscle cars.

But one specimen really caught my eye — something a little different. It was a 1967 silver Sunbeam Tiger Mark II. This was no big muscle car but rather a sleek looking convertible two-seater with elegantly rounded contours.

Standing next to his car in a Hawaiian shirt was Jerry Scavezze. While I briefly spoke with Scavezze at the show in Howard, I was able to catch up with him again over the phone to get the whole story. Back in the 1980s Scavezze saw a classified advertisement for this rare car and flew out to San Diego to take a look. “I bought it in thirteen boxes of parts and spent the next four or five years putting it together,” said Scavezze.

The story of the Sunbeam Tiger Mark II is a saga worthy of its own article. It involves famous custom car designer Carroll Shelby, wealthy British owner of Sunbeam Lord Rootes, Chrysler’s acquisition of Sunbeam, and a decision by Chrysler to kill the Mark II project due to embarrassment at having a Ford engine in a Chrysler product. The result, as Scavezze explained to me, was a strange vehicle of which only 533 were ever made. It was built with Standard American hardware in the drive train and metric hardware for the body. Restoring this mishmash of a vehicle out of 13 boxes of parts in a time with no internet and no manual to study was, as Scavezze told me, “a pain in the ass, honestly. It took weeks to figure out a single part sometimes.”

But it was clearly a labor of love, and the finished product attracts a lot of interest at the car shows Scavezze attends. “I did a car show up in Boulder at the Shelby Car Museum last year,” said Scavezze. “They put my car next to a bunch of really fast Mustangs. It was the only Sunbeam Tiger Mark II there.”

Scavezze believes that restored cars should be driven, and he can be seen in and around Salida with his rare Sunbeam. “I drive down the street and get kids asking me ‘What the hell is this?’” At car shows Scavezze, like Vigil, enjoys the camaraderie of “Just talking to other gearheads about their cars.” And, like Vigil, it doesn’t really matter to him what style, era, or make the cars are. “I just love cars,” Scavezze said. “I like a totally restored 1932 Model A and equally love the modern hot rods.”

After meeting Scavezze in Howard, it’s apparent that he also loves talking to people about his car and the remarkable story behind it. That’s the essence of the great American car show and why its appeal is so timeless. It is just people talking to each other in person about something they are passionate about. And, when it comes to finding a common interest, there is no better one for Americans than our cars.