Collector’s Auction of Vintage Caddies Revs Up Hopeful Bidders
An hour before auctioning the cream of his famed collection of vintage Cadillacs on Saturday, Ed Cholakian is going at a plate of waffles like a ’57 Fleetwood goes at a gallon of high-test.
Outside, in the parking lot of the Sheraton-Universal Hotel, 29 Cholakian Caddies are waiting to be brought, one at a time, into a large tent where a couple of hundred hobbyists, collectors, dealers and investors are gathering.
The cars range in age from a 1940 beige convertible to a 1960 orange Eldorado Seville two-door hardtop. Many are veterans of such TV and film features as “Murder, She Wrote,” “Bird” and “Big Business.”
“It’s the most unique Cadillac collection in the world,” says Cholakian’s breakfast partner, auctioneer Mitchell Kruse of Auburn, Ind., who will conduct the day’s proceedings.
“People have been calling constantly about this ever since we started advertising four months ago, which just thrills the hell out of me,” says the ebullient Cholakian. He is 61, blocky, sleek and forceful, a silver-top, suntan-body Coupe de Ville coming down the road straight at you.
Beneath the tent, it’s clear Cholakian’s auction is no event for the meek. There will be no minimum “reserve” bids. Every car will sell, so long as one person takes a flier at it. It is an event for meat-eaters, for people with an un-self-conscious love of the uncomplicated glories of the American past--”guys who bought these cars new and buy new ones today,” says Kruse. The abdominous and gold-braceleted are welcome, and much in evidence. The cash bar is open by 10 a.m.
Cholakian swears he’s not concerned about how much the cars will sell for. He loves the cars “like my kids,” he says, but like children, they are high-maintenance items. His object in selling, he says, is “to simplify my life” so he can concentrate on his Sylmar-based vintage Cadillac parts business and his travel agency. He and Kruse return to the breakfast buffet for more fuel.
“It beats workin’ out in the gym,” Cholakian says.
*
A classic car auction, like a jury trial, is a throw of the dice. Sometimes the bids come in inexplicably high, sometimes unexplainably low, and sometimes both at the same event.
By 10:30, Kruse’s recoilless rifle of a voice has begun filling the tent. It is punctuated by the whoops of two “ring men” who work the crowd soliciting and confirming bids, as the first car, Lot 101, the orange 1960 Eldorado, goes on the block.
In the second row, Roger Nieder and Tony Cortese, seated three chairs apart, are interested in the same car--a rare maroon two-door fastback from 1948, the year Cadillacs sprouted their first demure, incipient tail fins.
Nieder, a 57-year-old retired Hughes Aircraft manager who lives in Seal Beach and drives a white-over-red ’73 Coupe de Ville, figures the fastback will go for $9,000 or $10,000.
“I’d go nine if I could take it to my mechanic to check out,” he says, “but of course, you can’t do that at an auction. So I’d stop at eight.”
Cortese, the owner of a beloved turquoise ’62 Sedan de Ville, figures the ’48 fastback will go for $12,000, which puts him out of the picture.
The 38-year-old Cortese, who is chief financial officer for Channel 18 TV and lives in Los Angeles, has subjected the values of all the cars in the lineup to computer analysis. He also has the hots for a gray 1955 Fleetwood sedan: Its odometer reads only 52,000 miles. “I’m hoping it goes for about $6,000, but I have a funny feeling it’s going to go for more than that,” he says.
The orange Eldorado goes for $7,500.
Nieder and Cortese, strangers until now, look at each other.
“A lot cheaper than I thought,” says Nieder.
“A pretty good deal,” nods Cortese.
Neither man is a candidate for bidding on the most valuable of Cholakian’s collection--the convertibles from the early 1940s, especially those of 1942, when Cadillac made cars for only three months before converting to wartime production.
As the auctioneer rattles through the lineup, Nieder’s and Cortese’s hopes fall like unarmed soldiers. Cortese bids tentatively on several cars, feeling the weight of the numbers like a good money manager should. Each time his bid is quickly swallowed up by those of the more reckless or more endowed.
The ’55 Fleetwood he has coveted goes not for the $6,000 he hoped, but for $18,500.
The ’48 fastback is bought not for Nieder’s $8,000 or Cortese’s projected $12,000, but for $19,000.
And then, as if to mock all buyers of moderate means, the true beauties of the show--the cream 1947, the burgundy 1946, the black 1942, and the caramel-brown 1941 convertible coupes (going for $18,250, $14,250, $23,500, and $27,500, respectively) and the beige 1940 convertible with spare-tire compartments molded into each of the front fenders ($31,000, tops in the auction)--all sell for well below the anticipated prices, despite the pleas of auctioneer Kruse and owner Cholakian.
Tony Cortese exhales and slumps in his chair. His thoughts stray teasingly back to the very first car auctioned, the ’60 Eldorado that sold for $7,500.
“I was willing to pay 10 for the orange one,” he sighs, “but I wanted to wait for the ’55 Fleetwood. And now it’s too late.”
*
And now a few words from our winners.
* Mark Merriman, 39, an anesthesiologist from Somas, scored the cream 1947 and the burgundy 1946 convertibles for $32,500, bringing the total number of classic cars he owns to 11: “These old cars are fun and good investments. Cadillac convertibles are going up like gangbusters. . . . I could take the ones I bought today and . . . with a little work, make about 15 grand on them.”
* Stanley Zimmerman, 64, a semiretired mortgage banker from West L.A., who bought the caramel-brown 1941 convertible:
“I bought it for my friend. . . . He doesn’t know it yet. I’m going to ask him to drive it home, then tell him it’s his to use for life. His wife is in the hospital. He’s been real depressed. I wanted to build up his spirits.”
*
Afterward, Ed Cholakian is standing in the hazy sunlight outside the tent, shaking hands with well-wishers. In all, his 29 Cadillacs have brought him $364,800, minus the auctioneer’s fee and other expenses.
“I gave a lot of these cars away today,” he confides. “But I’m happy. I’m glad people got such good deals. . . . I mean, that ’42 convertible--it should’ve gone for 40 grand. It was a steal.”
