The real story behind Sebastian…
On January 13th, I suffered a heart attack. Because of my strict diet and fitness routines, it was unthinkable and shocking to everyone, not least of all, me. As I lay in the hospital hooked up to tubes and monitoring machines, it was something I was quite unable to comprehend. I still struggled with the reality for several weeks afterward. I was too young, too healthy…I felt broken, and I knew the only way I was going to cope and move forward was to “fix” myself somehow, and prove to myself that I was just as healthy and capable as I was before it happened. In addition to getting back into my fitness and diet routines, I felt as if I needed something else, something more tangible, to help me work through it. I needed a project.
Since December, I had been growing more and more interested in the idea of obtaining an old Mercedes, one that was old enough to have established “classic” status, but in decent enough condition that my inexperienced hands could repair and restore it…give it a second chance, a new lease on life. I was in desperate need of feeling like I was in control over my life again, and the challenge of a car restoration, something I had never attempted before, was something I felt I truly wanted to try, and have fun with, too. In the process of restoring the car, I would be restoring myself.
I had already researched older Mercedes models, come to understand what I may be getting myself into, what my limits may be, and what kind of automobile to look for that was in my price range. I fell in love with the W116 chassis, including the quirky large US spec bumpers and round headlamps. I thought it epitomized the “look” that defined Mercedes in America in the 1980’s, the same look I remembered from my childhood. Originally I had been searching for a 300SD, with the simplicity and fuel economy of the diesel engine being the attraction. The first one I found while I was still laid up in the hospital, searching on my laptop. To my disappointment, the car sold before I was in a position to purchase it, and I was crushed. Then, fate intervened, as it so often does, and in mid-February I stumbled across a diamond in the rough, one of those “garage finds” you read about. It was not a 300SD, but the same W116 chassis, with the M117 V8 gasoline engine. A 1976 450SEL in wonderful overall condition with only 127,000 miles on the odometer was being stored in a garage only thirty minutes from my home, the owner was anxious to sell, and the price was within my range. Coincidently, the 450SEL had been my favorite Matchbox car to play with when I was a kid. The idea of owning and driving the same car I had loved and played with as a child was irresistible.
This whole venture was entirely new to me; I am not a mechanic by any stretch of the imagination. However, over the last few years, I had forced myself to get my hands dirty and tinker with my cars, mainly because I was not always in a position to pay someone else to do the work for me. Encouraged by my own success at some of the repairs and maintenance I had attempted, I decided that, provided the automobile was in decent enough condition to begin with, I could probably handle any repairs it may need. I contacted the seller of the car and arranged to meet him at the garage where the car was stored. I was nervous; I’m not “well off” with a large cache of money in the bank, so for me to purchase an old car with little knowledge of whether or not I was making a sound decision was a bigger gamble than most people may realize. However, I decided to trust my instincts. Of course, I fell in love with the car, which I decided to call “Sebastian,” after our first meeting. The owner had not driven the car in several months, and the battery was dead, so the first time I went to look at the car, it wouldn’t even start. The garage was dimly lit and it was dark out by the time I got there, but I could see the car was in really great condition. The owner had repainted the car in 2005, and he had only driven it a few weeks each year, in good weather. Even in the garage, he kept it under a cover. The owner and I arranged for me to come back a few days later, after the battery was charged back up. Our second meeting went a little better. The battery, which turned out to be way too small to handle such a large engine, finally got the car started, after several attempts. To my inexperienced ears, the engine sounded very robust and healthy for a forty-four year old car. I tinkered with all the switches, checking things like the power windows and sunroof, interior lights, and the like. I made mental notes of the few things that appeared not to work, or that may need attention. The overall condition of the interior was good, but I had already realized new seat cushions and covers would be needed, as well as carpet. Certain things deteriorate over time, regardless how well they are cared for. I knew the interior was something I could restore, and in the meantime, it was in decent enough condition I could drive the car…this would be a “rolling restoration.” I gave the owner a deposit so he would hold the car for me until we could arrange for me to come pick it up and take it back to Pennsylvania. The owner was very cooperative, and I think he sensed his car would be going to a good home. My only frustration was, as the car was no longer tagged or insured, I was unable to take it for a test drive. However, I decided to continue to trust my instincts, and assured myself I was making the right decision. I’m a sentimental lad…I had already become attached to this car, and in my mind, it was already mine.
On the day I had agreed to collect the car, I arranged for a flatbed to transport Sebastian on the short journey to Pennsylvania, until I could get him registered and tagged. Determined to make sure the car I was paying for would actually move, I contented myself with driving Sebastian up and down the alley behind the garage he was stored in, while I waited for the tow truck. At least I finally knew the brakes and transmission worked! After the paperwork was done and the money exchanged, I spent the rest of that cold, February weekend out in the driveway with Sebastian, doing what I could to clean him up, slowly introducing myself to him, making a list of things he needed; at the top of the list was a new, appropriately sized battery, which I purchased right away. I made an appointment at the dealership across the street to give Sebastian a once-over and safety inspection. The mechanic spent about an hour with him, checking everything. The verdict was a very clean bill of health. The mechanic told me Sebastian was in better shape than most newer cars he had worked on. Further examination of the old paperwork and service manuals provided by the seller gave me a great record of the car’s history since new; even the original data card was included. It was obvious that Sebastian had been gently used and very well cared for.
Over the last few months, I have done small repairs, replaced some worn out or aging parts, cleaned him up inside and out, things I can afford to do in the interim, until I have the money for the few big expenses, such as the interior revamp. In truth, Sebastian looks almost new on the outside. The paint is waxed and shiny, and the chrome trim gleams like new. It’s become my favorite car to drive, not because it’s the most comfortable in terms of conveniences, although Sebastian is fully loaded for his time…but what I enjoy most is the feeling I get when driving him, because I feel very proud to be behind the wheel. I get compliments all the time from people when they see him. Sebastian is a timeless, class act. He’s not flashy or fast or exotic by traditional definition, but he has an air of substantial quality and a majesty about him that people seem to recognize and respect. The most curious thing to me is that I don’t feel like I am driving an “old” car…with the exception of airbags, heated seats, and sophisticated electronics, he has all the comforts my other Mercedes’ have, so I don’t feel as if I am lacking anything. There is of course, the unique charm of driving an older car that is well…charming…it’s an indefinable chemistry that is difficult to explain, but one feels comfortable, safe, even pampered, inside the revolutionary safety cage of this vehicle, the heavy doors that close like a bank vault, and the warmth of the real zebrano wood on the dash. I feel at home in this car, as I do in the others, but this car in particular, has a welcoming feel to it.
Sebastian isn’t perfect; like me, he has flaws and quirks. He doesn’t like cold starts. It takes two or three tries to get him started and running. His temperature gauge doesn’t work. Neither does his cruise control or windshield washer pump. His vacuum-activated central locking system does not work, either. One of the power steering hoses leaks and needs replaced, and he leaks coolant from the infamously unreliable servo unit that governs his automatic climate control…but the air conditioning still works, albeit not as frigid as that of a newer car…but it still works. Of course, all of these things are minor and completely fixable, so I don’t sweat them. I just try and address one little thing at a time. It’s important that I enjoy the process, so as I can afford to do so, I tackle another item on the list. In between tweaks and repairs, I focus on keeping him showroom clean and use him for short jaunts around town. He was built to be driven, after all. Mercedes has always had a reputation of exceptional build quality and longevity, and the W116 chassis was a shining example of an era in Mercedes history where that build quality was evident in the cars safety features, fit and finish, and design aesthetics. It’s just an amazing car…not much else can be said.
Above everything else, Sebastian has been a mechanical form of therapy for me…a way of healing myself, inside and out. Each time I repair or spruce up something else on this car, I am in a very real sense, restoring another small part of myself…my confidence, my feeling of self-worth. Sebastian has been instrumental in my own healing process. As I have polished him up and made him look shiny and new again, so have I felt a sense of newness, of renewed purpose. I have a feeling of pride and accomplishment as I learn new skills, and learn more about myself. Who would have thought an old car that needed a little love would be precisely the rehabilitation I needed. Life is funny, is it not?
