Sandi Hartley in her 1964 Mercury Comet Caliente convertible today. Photos by Don Homuth, unless otherwise noted.
Original owner cars of 20 years are notable. With 30 years, exceptional. At 40 years, those get special mention. But 50 years — half a century?
At 20 years old, a young woman buying her first new car would never have imagined that over 50 years later, she’d still have it, that it would last that long, or become a part of the family that wasn’t even really a thought in 1964. For Sandi Hartley, though, that is how things have worked out.
After a 1949 Ford she described as “just an ordinary car” and a 1955 Chevrolet she said got “burned up” in freeway driving, came 1964 – two years out of high school when she was working as an “usherette” at the Memorial Coliseum in Portland – she told her Dad that she wanted a new car, one that would be dependable, last for a while and maybe be a little bit special.
At the local Lincoln-Mercury dealer in Gresham (now out of business) she came across a blue 1964 Comet Caliente and she wanted that one. But maybe the dealer had promised it to someone else, or it wasn’t yet properly prepped. But next to it was a red Comet Caliente – top of the line – convertible, with a 260-cu.in. V-8 and a four-speed. It was ready to drive away. That would be just fine.
At the time, there were Dads who would have balked a little at that. A 20-year-old daughter loose in the world with a red, sport four-speed convertible? Not something more practical, maybe even less expensive? But as Sandi recalls, “Dad was pretty laid back about it all. He co-signed for the loan, and I drove away with the red one.”
“Oh – it was fun!”
She’d pile her friends in it and go to “drag Broadway” (which seemed to happen in pretty much any city that had a street called Broadway in it at the time). She’d put the top down and take late night trips by herself to the coast, where she would drive it on the beach. It went to Los Angeles several times. It was, after all, just a car. Not considered anything particularly special – as was the case then with most cars in daily use.
Came 1966 and Sandi became a “hostess” (aka stewardess) for TWA airlines, based out of San Francisco. The car was used to go back and forth to Portland or take the same sorts of trips that any car would take. She would loan it to friends for their use. There was a neighbor with a 1965 Comet, and he would come up with all sorts of good reasons why she should trade with him straight across. “But I really, really liked mine, so I just never did.” The car stayed with her. She kept it maintained, didn’t get into any accidents.
At the shop, awaiting teardown. Restoration photos courtesy Hot Rod Dreamworks.
“I’m from an era where if something wasn’t broken, there was no need to fix or replace it. So I just never thought about buying another car.”
There were occasional maintenance issues. The car began to overheat and she had it towed a couple of times. Repair shops would try and fail to fix it, but eventually she found one that got the problem resolved, so she continued to keep and drive it regularly.
While working at TWA, she got a paper sticker for the back of the rear view mirror that allowed her into the company parking lot. There was another paper sticker that warned she should fasten her seat belts that was provided by TWA. She had no seat belts in the car, but put the sticker on the dashboard anyway.
For a while, she dated a policeman. With a red convertible, everyone in the department knew it was her. “I would maybe speed just a little, but not very often. I never got a ticket with it.”
While driving on the streets, people would talk with her at stop lights. “Nice car! Do you want to sell it?” No – she didn’t. It was Her car, and she was going to keep it thank you very much. But the compliments were nice.
A car like that would be expected to play a part in her finding her current husband, Ken. But it didn’t. They met in Rio de Janeiro while she was on vacation and he was on a job. For a while they maintained a long-distance cross-country relationship. Eventually Ken transferred to the Bay Area, and the relationship grew and deepened. They were married in 1975 in the redwoods of northern California. Just the two of them and a minister in the trees, for which Sandi had developed an affection.
Again, it would be nice if the story involved their going on a honeymoon in the Comet, but that isn’t what happened. They just drove home after the ceremony, set up their household and life continued. The car remained.
It did play a very small part in the birth of their first daughter in 1977. Sandi was very pregnant, but was attending a geology class at Half Moon Bay when she started into labor. A fast drive in the car back to the hospital in San Mateo followed. They barely made it in time.
Came 1979 and Sandi was pregnant again. She went outside in her housecoat to do some weeding, when she just knew that labor was imminent. She went back inside, her water broke and she called Ken to take her to the hospital. She contacted a neighbor to come watch her 2-year-old daughter, got into the back seat (the bucket seats weren’t exactly comfortable for a woman in labor) and off they went. At the intersection of US 101 and CA 217, she told Ken “I’m not going to make it.” Ken dutifully pulled off and attended the birth of their second daughter, Blythe – in the back seat of the Comet Convertible.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Catch the baby!”
Ken did. It was an easy birth, and they continued on to the hospital. The ER personnel took Sandi and the baby inside (Ken had to pay for the birthing room and the ER – there was no money-saving here) and the daughter stayed with Sandi thereafter for the rest of their stay. The story got a small mention in the San Jose Mercury. They still have the framed clipping and show it with the car at shows.
At the time, child car seats were neither as good as nor required as they are now. She had a car seat, but it wasn’t very safe. So she would often take her daughters in the car. Seat belts were finally installed – just seemed like a good idea. But overall, those trips were uneventful. It was a car, a daily driver in regular service. As safety became a greater concern, the convertible was eventually relegated to only the occasional drive, and the family car became a VW Rabbit. With provisions for car seats “so my oldest daughter could see out” as Sandi recalls.
The only minor fender-bender the car experienced was when one of the Danish au pair young women she hired for child care got rear-ended at a stoplight. That pushed the Comet into the car in front. But no one was hurt, damage to the car was minor and easily repaired. Sandi recalls that the au pairs just loved to work with her, because they got to drive the convertible when necessary.
The car remained. Still entirely original, still reasonably reliable but aging. It spent a lot of time in the family’s garage, being brought out now and again for pleasure trips.
Came 2010-2011 and Blythe was going to get married. She told Sandi that she would really like to drive away from the ceremony in the car she had been born in. By that time, the Comet was well over 40 years old and showing its age. Still running, still usable, but not looking like something for a wedding photo.
Sandi knew a car shop in Canby, Oregon, called Hot Road Dreamworks, run by Jack Brito. Dreamworks had a good local reputation for restoration and mechanical work. It was close by, so Sandi drove in to talk with them. She wasn’t in the Comet at the first visit. She explained what she had, what she wanted done and could it be done in time for a wedding on July 4th?
As Jack recalls, “I tried to talk her out of it. I told her the work would cost more than the car was actually worth. It just didn’t seem like the sort of thing we usually do here.”
But Sandi insisted, a price was set and the car was delivered for restoration. Jack’s condition was that Sandi had to come to visit it every two weeks, to watch it in progress. “I was astonished to see my car dissolve as they tore it down. When it was all in pieces – fenders here, seats there, engine somewhere else – I just didn’t see how it would ever come back together.”
Todd and Blythe Sivie pose with the Mercury at their wedding. Photo courtesy Sandi Hartley.
Sandi’s condition was that the two TWA stickers, still there and in good condition, had to be preserved intact. They reminded her of a time in her life she remembers fondly.
And then she watched as it did come back together. Jack says it was one of the simplest, though not necessarily the easiest, restoration he had ever done. All of the original bits were still there, right down to the fasteners. The car was done – on time. Both TWA stickers were where they always were.
Just before the wedding, Sandi and Blythe put the top down and drove out to the coast. The radio was still the factory AM-only unit, and it was hard to find a good station. The one they did find featured Oldies. So the two of them drove along, singing oldies. They continued in coastal towns — and passers-by would look at them strangely as they continued singing.
It remains a vivid and treasured memory for Sandi. Her face lights up as she smiles retelling that story of a memorable mother-daughter event. In that car.
After her daughter’s wedding, photos were taken with the car, and her daughter and new husband, Todd Sivie, drove away. Just not very far. Todd was concerned that if he drove it far, something bad might happen to it, which is a properly respectful attitude for a brand new son-in-law.
So after only a short distance, the car was returned to Sandi and the two went off in their own car.
It has remained mostly in the family garage. The paint still shines, all the bits and pieces are clean and appropriate. Insurance is tricky – Sandi doesn’t drive it much any more. Trips to the beach are seldom. She has entered it in a couple of local shows, and it has won its class.
Blythe and Sandi with the Comet. Photo courtesy Sandi Hartley.
She has albums of early photographs of her with the car. She has a complete record of the steps of the restoration done by Dreamworks in another album. Most especially, she has photos of her daughter with the car at her wedding.
Her daughter now lives in Texas, and they don’t want to subject it to the weather there. So it remains in Canby and will for a while yet. Eventually the car will go to that daughter. “She has the best claim to it — she was born in it.”
One owner for all of its 52 years, now fully restored. Sandi would never have imagined such a thing all those years ago. For most of its life, it was “just a car.” Nothing particularly rare or special about it. Yet over time, it has become a part of this family’s life and story. That story is not yet finished.
More gadget review in www.mamaktalk.com
