Shined up or stripped down, a classic car beckons in a way that few other objects can. It’s a mysterious attraction. Do we love them out of nostalgia for days gone by? Is it the allure of an object designed with the male gaze in mind? Or is it the valves and cylinders, the horsepower, the satisfaction of crafting your ride with your own hands? Even the most avid fans have a hard time explaining it.

“I love cars,” says Roland “Rolly” Brooks. Why not woodworking, or boating? “I just love cars.” A shrug and a smile.

It’s the Thursday cruise night at Hometown Mobil on Route 202 in Lebanon, Maine, just across the state line from Rochester. Many of the men, a few with their wives, are eating tonight’s special, baked ham with mashed potatoes, at the tables inside. Outside, a line of a dozen cars—Fords, Pontiacs, Dodges and others, most dating from the 1930s to the 1960s—is parked along the edge of the parking lot. They are blindingly white, flat black, acid purple and Sunkist orange, accessorized with flames and whitewall tires and lots of gleaming chrome. More cars are coming in: a 1970 Buick Gran Sport, a mid-1960s Chevelle, a mid-1970s “Disco” Nova and a mid-1960s Dodge Coronet.

On Wednesday, some of these cars were on display at the Lilac Mall in Rochester; on Monday, they’ll be at Rogan’s Bakery in Exeter. Called “cruise nights,” these events are typically organized by a car club in the parking lot of a willing business. Often, like tonight, there’s a card table with “oldies” music coming out of a set of speakers, and every now and then, a man or woman gets on the mike to promote the 50-50 raffle. Then it’s back to “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.”

George Lee, in his 60s and visiting his Maine in-laws from Monmouth Junction, N.J., has arrived in a 1971 Dodge Dart Swinger, which he’s owned for six years. He first got involved in classic cars when a friend bought a 1954 Mac firetruck. That was 20 years ago.

Lee bought a Dart because it was different. “How many do you see?” he asks. “Driving it around, people enjoy looking at it.”

All ages, from all walks of life, people come to the cruise nights to meet up with others who share the same interests. One veteran points toward a group of older men standing behind a black 1937 Ford Sedan delivery truck, a group that includes Dick Batchelder, once “one of the top stock car racers in the area,” and Tom Penney of Shapleigh, Maine, who owns Penney’s Antique Autos, and has made a life out of restoring old cars like these.

Near the end of the line of classic autos is a gleaming 1939 Ford convertible.

“I think everyone has something they’re interested in, or just comparing cars. Lots of guys are building cars now. This is a chance to look and compare and talk and share ideas,” owner Richard Mayrand says.

“And help,” adds his wife Marie, who’s sitting in the front passenger’s seat.

Richard agrees. “Everybody helps each other out. Most guys have expertise in certain areas.”

The Mayrands, of Lebanon, previously owned a 1931 Dodge Coupe street rod and a 1923 Ford T bucket street rod. The Ford convertible is notable for its all-original steel body, and it also has the original roof mechanism and original seats (reupholstered). But the car’s been upgraded. Under the perfect paint job, there’s a new, modern frame, a brand new engine, new brakes and new suspension, “so it can go down the road like a new car, not like a clunker,” Richard says.

Restoring a car means making a million choices. There are vintage cars that have been disassembled down to the frame and rebuilt to factory original condition, down to every last nut and bolt. Others are modified for performance or for comfort, perhaps with new seats that haven’t been crushed by the weight of 50 years worth of drivers, or with a vintage eight-track tape player whose faceplate hides a modern CD player.

They come in every variation, according to the owner’s desires and purpose for the car. Much as a piece of wood or stone will suggest the finished sculpture to a carver, so it is with a car discovered on the side of the road or on eBay—is there enough there, in parts and in cash, to bring it back to its roots? Do you customize it, as Rolly Brooks has done with his 1956 Cadillac, chopping it down into a two-seat roadster? (“It’s not here tonight because it hasn’t got a roof,” he says, casting an eye toward the overcast sky. Why doesn’t it have a roof? “I took it off and threw it away,” he says with glee.) Nearly always, the owner will need to hire someone with the expertise to work on the body, the electrical system and the interior. Is it a labor of love, or a market venture? 

Sometimes, you don’t know until you get started. Richard Mayrand bought his convertible in 2004 from a guy who had done two-thirds of the work, he says. The rest he completed with the help of three friends.

“It’s hard to describe to a non street rod person. These things just evolve. They don’t happen overnight. It takes probably three years to do a car like this,” he says. “You start with one plan, keep going and it changes,” agrees Marie.

There are other reasons to keep it up. For one man here tonight, buying a simple car, small and primitively built, allows him a connection with his autistic son, who’s become deeply fascinated with classic cars.

For everyone, the passion for older cars either started as or has become a connection to family and friends. It’s typical to hear that an owner—almost always a man—got started when he was 15 or 16 years old. His first car was a classic, or a derelict, from a friend or brother or father. He got to work fixing it up, and never stopped.

“We grew up on a farm, kind of in the woods. My father was in the cars, and starting in the 1950s, he was working on race cars. We would help him, and my bothers and I got into having cars. Just sort of the whole family was into it,” says Steve Woodman, 62, of Lebanon.

The corollary is that cruise nights feature men of a certain age. Some wonder what will happen when the men who grew up racing and driving these cars (or wishing they had been) are gone. It’s true that these cars were designed to be individually pleasing in the way that contemporaryToyotas and Hondas aren’t. Will a younger generation tend to these vintage cars when they’re a hundred years old? In an age of dwindling fossil fuels, will car culture die out or will it find new purchase?

There are ghosts, past and present, all around. Woodman remembers driving his first car, a 1917 Dodge that was “pretty rough,” around the fields of his parents’ farm in Sanford, Maine, when he was 14. Tom Penney, 72 years old and driving the 1937 Ford Sedan, is now responsible for more cars than he can count. He guesses it’s 18, with 15 in drivable condition. He pulls out a photograph of the whole collection, and the variety of ages and styles in the curve of cars and trucks is stunning. He loves them all and has no plans to part with any, no matter what. Asked what he feels when he looks at them lined up in the picture, he jokes “that it was a helluva lot of work to take them all out.”

And, always, there are ghosts of cars future.

Jon McCormack of Dover has spent the last five years doing a full restoration of a 1965 Mustang convertible. Prior to purchasing his first Mustang in 2001, he’d never owned a classic car, nor even worked on cars. As he wrote in an article about the process for a club magazine, “I’ve gained a whole new appreciation for these cars, the people who love and restore them, and I’ve learned more than I ever thought I could. Still, I’m no expert. In fact, I’ve only scratched the surface of what there is to know. So the big question is: What Mustang should I restore next?”

At the end of the night, the emcee calls out the plate numbers of cars that have won awards, starting with third place, but no one is paying attention. They’re all busy talking to their friends about their cars.

First place tonight goes to Jim Stormont of Rochester for his 1948 Ford F1 pickup. It’s a complete frame-off restoration. It’s beautiful, and its roots go deep.

“Back when I was in high school, this guy had a ’48 like this. It was ice box white, with racing moons, and a flathead engine in it. There’s a 396 in this, slightly tweaked. If I can find the right flathead, I will put it in.”
One by one, the cars start up and drive off, with the song “I Would Do Anything for Love” by Meatloaf fading into the background.

Mondays at Rogan’s Bakery
31 Portsmouth Ave., Exeter
5:30-8:30 p.m.
through August
603-778-8003

Wednesdays at Lilac Mall
Route 125, Rochester
5:30-8 p.m., through September
603-343-2550

Thursdays at Hometown Mobil
Route 202 and Hubbard Road, Lebanon, Maine
5:30-8 p.m.
through August
207-339-2100

Saturdays at Eliot Commons
Route 236, Eliot, Maine
Aug. 26 and Sept. 30
4:30 until dusk
207-439-1502