Frankensaab
Friday, August 5, 2011 at 8:39AM I first became acquainted with Saabs when my uncle Van (more like a big brother because we are only four years apart) and I crawled out of his first really nice car, a deep green 1972 Saab 99, after a deer evading manuever nosed it into a weedy ditch on a country road one dark night in 1977. First, we rolled over, then flipped backwards end over end. It would have been spectacular to watch. The car was totalled, we were shaken, but we walked away. In 1983, I bought a brand new 900S. We'll skip the stories, but that car eventually took several nasty beatings, the last of which resulted in my replacing it with a 5 door 1980 frog green turbo. When that car died of less violent causes, I got a 1985 turbo, in which I moved to Seattle, where I hope it is still in service. Years later, when my present wife's daughter needed a first car, I insisted on a Saab 900. Good thing, because she tried to take down a very stout tree with it, and a lesser car would have killed her for her effort rather than allowing her to be extracted with just a few bruises.
Fast forward to October 2009. Triggered bizarrely somehow by my niece Parisa tragically dying of brain cancer at the tender age of 18, her dad and I bought a pair of old Saabs seeming to their owner to be ready for the junkyard, and drove them to Syracuse from Connecticut. I'd intended that the 1978 99GLE that I'd bought would be my daughters' first car, as it was equipped with an automatic transmission. But it gave up as we pulled into my sister's driveway, and I quickly discovered that parts for a rebuild were no longer available. With death and resurrection on my mind, the Frankensaab project began.
I found a late 1980s front clip in Cincinnati, with a working 16 valve intercooled turbo and a five speed manual transmission, and a mechanic forty miles from my home in Lancaster county, PA who had a reputation for grafting together weird old Saab combinations, including a 900 stretch limo and a mid-engine number with a 5.0 liter Mustang engine behind the driver's seat. After an agonizing and much too expensive 17 months of badgering him to finish the job then iron out the bugs (most notably that the turbo did not kick in) I have the car sitting in front of my house, as you see it here. FOR SALE. My buddy Nevin and I are going out to Abbottstown this afternoon to pick up the old motor which Tina will kill me if I bring into the house as I have other oily automotive remnants. Nora and Noble still need a car that they can drive, and believe me, this ain't it. It is highly entertaining, rust and dent free, and has the beautifully redone interior that was part of the buying argument in the first place, but it is definitely a wild thing that requires skill and attention to drive safely. I'm enjoying it while I can, but responsible adulthood is bearing down on me inexorably. At least for now.
8 1/4 x 11 9/16, watercolor pencil on damp paper
My brother-in-law in his driveway with his 1972 Saab 95 and the future Frankensaab
Reader Comments (2)
Oh yeah...LOVE IT!
We're still driving our tan, 1990, 900 four door...just awesome! Interior ceiling liner is gone because we got tired of driving in a circus tent and the air conditioning and airbag are history. Nice new sound system though w/ xm radio. Moon roof leaks a bit but the seat heaters and hand crank windows still work!!! Maybe she needs a name?
The most appropriate name would be "Sold". If I give it a real name, I'll have an even harder time selling it than I already am.