Two Become One: 1967 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado Coupe

One of, if not the best and most important part of the car hobby is developing a comprehensive network of friends. Having such a network comes in handy for numerous reasons, whether it's fixing something, finding something, or something as simple yet necessary as fudging an inspection sticker for an old beater that's not quite up to snuff with your state's safety and emissions standards. One such friend of mine is a gentleman by the name of Cadillac Bill, who earned his nickname by buying, selling, collecting, and trading Cadillacs for the last thirty years. Thousands of them. He's got thirty-six of them at his house and an equal number in other places as I type this, including everything from an all-original 1932 V-16 once owned by the wealthy Storrow family of Boston (of Storrow Drive fame) to a 1978 Eldorado Biarritz with factory T-tops, and damn near anything in between. Forties, fifties, sixties, seventies; convertibles and hardtops; sedans and coupes; hearses and limousines; you name it. Every now and then when he gets his hands on something he thinks I might be interested in, Cadillac Bill hunts me down at work or otherwise and tells me. So when he walked into work a week ago, I had no idea what to expect.

It had been a good amount of time since I'd seen him last, so we did a bit of catching up; he hadn't yet known that I'd bought a 1971 Cadillac Coupe DeVille, but when I described it to him, he instantly knew which one it was. Apparently I'd unknowingly bought the car out from under a friend of his who also buys and sells and plays around with old Cadillacs. He said that his friend wanted the car something awful and would get a kick out of knowing where it ended up, as well as asking what I'd want for it in the event that he could get it off of me for his friend as a surprise. I told him I didn't have an idea because I liked the car and wanted to hang onto it for a bit, but I asked him if he had anything interesting to trade me. He began to tell me the story of one of his car buying trips the week before that yielded four Eldorados: an old man had in his barn two 1967's and two 1968's alongside two 1941 Cadillac sedans, a 1937 LaSalle coupe, and a 1929 Studebaker President sedan. Both 1968's and one of the 1967's were in marginal shape and were rotted in all the wrong places; destined to become either parts cars or very ambitious restoration projects. The other 1967, however, was in incredible original shape: the car was rock-solid, save for one spot under the vinyl top where it met the rear quarter panel that had just started to rot through. It sounded like quite a car, and I asked him what he'd want for it.

"Outright? I'm gonna have it listed in the Wheeler Dealer for $3500, but I'd go $3000, probably," he says.

"With my Coupe DeVille, what would you want for it?"

"With your car, $1500."

"Jeez, fifteen hundred? I don't have that kinda money..... would you be interested in another old car I have?"

"Depends, what is it?"

"It's a 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme sedan with 81,000 original miles; came from Idaho, not a speck of rust on it."

"Sounds cool, but I only want Cadillacs now; I'm getting out of other GM's unless they're something really special."

"Alright, well, let me think about it and maybe I'll be up to see you in a few days."

And we left it at that. I mulled it over for a few days and figured I'd at least go see the thing, if nothing else but to be in the presence of a relatively rare car, as well as see what new junk he had up at his house since I'd last gone up there. So I take a ride up the other night and he takes me into the main garage where he keeps all his good stuff, and there she was. A beautiful, all-original 1967 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado hardtop coupe in Bronze Firemist with a white vinyl roof, amazingly presentable interior and exterior brightwork, and a clean white leather interior with black carpets and dash in amazing orignal shape; no tears or cracks anywhere. It had a few rare options including headrests and the Guidematic automatic headlight dimmer, and all the little things worked; the factory AM/FM radio tuned and played beautifully, the vacuum-operated hideaway headlights worked, and even the power antenna went up and down! The 429 cubic inch V8 fired right up and ran smooth, the transmission shifted perfectly (the early front-drive Eldorados had inherent transmission problems), and the car stopped on a dime. The paint was pretty faded from living in direct sunlight for its last months after the winter was over, but the body was solid as a rock, and that's all I cared about. Purchased new in 1967 from the famous Peter Fuller Cadillac on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston (now occupied by the Fine Arts department of Boston University) by an elderly gentleman in Rhode Island, the car became the man's daily driver until his death in late 1971. His wife never learned how to drive and as a result the car was put in the garage where it sat undriven, save for the occasional lap around the block by one of the man's sons to keep things moving, until 1988 (I have documentation to prove this, as well as the car's 1971 Rhode Island inspection sticker tucked inside the original owner's manual) when his wife finally passed away. Why one of his children would not want to keep such an amazing vehicle if nothing else but for sentimental value is beyond me, but it was sold to a gentleman in Wilmington, Massachusetts who used the car as a toy in the good weather. At 80,000 miles, the car received a new transmission, timing chain, water pump, gas tank, and a host of other major parts (once again, with documentation to prove it) and then was driven another 36,000 miles before finally being parked at the end of the summer in 2003. It was an incredible deal and I wanted the car something fierce, and Cadillac Bill wanted me to have it; he wanted the car to go to somebody that knew what it was and would appreciate it for just that. So we went back and forth on it a little bit.

"I'd be willing to go $1200 with your Coupe DeVille," he says.

"Jeez, twelve hundred; I dunno where I'm gonna be able to come up with that in short order. You sure you wouldn't be interested in my Oldsmobile?"

"Nah, I really have no place for something like that."

"Alright, well it's a fantastic car and I'll definitely let you know, either way."

"Yeah, let me know by tomorrow if you could; I'd like to have it in the Wheeler Dealer for Thursday if you don't take it."

And we left it at that. I wanted that Eldorado more than anything and spent the ride home thinking about which of the many local banks would be the easiest to rob, because that was about the only way I'd be able to get my hands on the money necessary given the timeframe I had to make my decision in. That is, without the help of friends. As I stated before, one of, if not the best and most important part of the car hobby is developing a comprehensive network of friends. I have friends, but they're all retarded broke college kids like I am. While they can be roped into coming on a road trip to look at or come get something with me, cash is in extremely short supply, usually. Cadillac Bill, however, has a twenty-five year jump on me as far as making friends in this hobby is concerned. He wanted me to have this car, and he was going to make damn sure that I got it somehow. He called me the next morning.

"So I talked to a buddy of mine, and he thinks that your Oldsmobile would be perfect for his girlfriend to learn how to drive on," he says.

"Oh really?! Sounds good to me! So what are we talking, here?"

"I can do your Coupe DeVille, the Oldsmobile, and $600."

"Jeez, six hundred, I dunno if I can have that sorta money together today."

"Well I mean shit, can you come up with anything?! Three hundred bucks, maybe?!"

"Hmm, three hundred. Let me call you back in a little while, okay?"

"Alright, sounds good."

And we left it at that. He'd stayed up till an ungodly hour for me to come see the car in the first place, came down on the price for me as much as he was willing to, and after that proceeded to call up probably every damn weird buddy he had until he found one that was apparently in the market for an ugly, faded late 70's four-door General Motors A-body that on numerous occasions he made abundantly clear he didn't want from me. So did I accept the deal? Two cars and three bills for the nicest, most complete, most mechanically sound, most solid original "razorback" Eldorado that I would ever see in my budget range (which is pretty close to nothing, usually)?

Of course I did! My 1971 Cadillac Coupe DeVille, my 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme sedan, $300, and a bunch of parts I got for free off of a 1970 Coupe DeVille that a friend's neighbor was parting out was given to Cadillac Bill in exchange for the beauty that you see here; once again, with the help of a few friends. Leading the convoy in the '71 Coupe DeVille, I and my friend Silvester in the '77 Cutlass made the two-hour drive to Cadillac Bill's house, along with my friend Chris whose '81 Chevrolet Malibu two-door served as the chase car. The Eldorado made the 110-mile ride home flawlessly, and it's exciting to see it sitting in my storage area awaiting restoration, which I don't care if it comes tomorrow or twenty years from now. They made 17,930 of them forty years ago, and now I have one all to myself. I know I say I'll never get rid of any old car I get my hands on, but this one's definitely a keeper. And something I never would have been able to have were it not for the types of people one becomes friends with in the car hobby.