Well, as I will without question forget to post this when my month finally comes around, I'll just bite the bullet and do it now, with many thanks for featuring my car in this year's calendar.
Our tale begins....
Back when I had a business restoring cars (of all sorts - British, Italian, American, German, what have you), a lovely, petite, middle-aged lady popped into the shop and introduced me to her rather nice, carnival red, SV Alpine. She asked if I would 'fix it up' so she and her husband could take a second honeymoon in it when he returned from his mission.
It seems Mrs. Baughman's husband, a 42-year-old flight officer in the U.S. Navy, had purchased the car new when he was stationed in Reykjavik, Iceland. He actually bought it, not from a dealer per se, but from the "Base Agent" who presumably sold you any sort of car you wanted, so long as they could haul it over on a ship. He ordered it with nearly all the bells and whistles that the fine folks at Rootes had on offer... it had a hard top, tonneau, overdrive, heater, manual windscreen washer, clock, ammeter, wheel trims, reversing lamp (dealer installed), cigar lighter, radio, sun visors, seat belts, tool kit, crank, trunk mat, upgraded tyres and even the very rare option of twin rear seat cushions. Our fine officer eventually brought it back to the US, where he and his wife, who had recently married, took it on their honeymoon. Over the years the couple kept fairly meticulous records, including receipts for nearly all the service work, and they enjoyed a great many drives and trips in it. At one point Navy Lieutenant Commander Baughman was assigned to go to Central America for the Navy (during the 1976-77 Nicaraguan mess), leaving Mrs. Baughman here with the car, whereupon I entered the story, as noted above.
In my shop it was treated to quite a bit of work, including a rebuild of the carburettors, rebuild of the gearbox, wiring work and some badly needed suspension repairs. When all done, it was right as rain - the car never had any rust and still retained its original and nicely running motor. I delivered the little Alpine back to Mrs. Baughman and it was then presumably all set for the loving couple to enjoy it for their second honeymoon and for many more years to come. Except that didn't happen. Tragically, LtCmdr Baughman never came home... he perished while away on deployment, on November 24, 1977. His body was brought back to a grief-shattered wife, and he was subsequently buried in Arlington National Cemetery.
Mrs. Baughman kept the Sunbeam, unable to part with it because of its attachment to her beloved husband, and because of the bittersweet memories it held. She drove the car occasionally, and kept it sheltered in a dry garage, but clearly did not drive it enough to keep it from mechanically deteriorating. She would call me up from time to time to ask if I'd get it running again for her, and for a few years I fixed things like dead batteries, an alternator, flat brakes and the like... all for free, as I felt considerable sympathy for her, though she always protested and demanded I at least take the money for the parts, for which I sometimes relented and accepted.
One day Mrs. Baughman rang me up and told me that, sadly, she would just have to let the Alpine go - the car wasn't getting driven enough and she felt awful about the prospects of it falling into further disrepair. She said that since I knew a great many people in the motorcar field, would I know of anyone who might like to buy it and take care of it? I asked how much she would be asking and she said "Well, I suppose $2,000." Now, in 1981, Sunbeams weren't worth all that much, but given this was a rust-free and virtually mint original example, I felt it could have been worth considerably more. I replied "Well, Mrs. Baughman, the car may be worth much more - actually, even I'd be interested at that price" to which she rapidly replied "Oh, Kevin, you've been so kind to me over the years, I'd be happy to sell it to you for $1,600. I know you'll take good care of it." It took a slightly less than a nanosecond for me to to stammer the words "Umm... w-w-wait right there, Mrs. Baughman.... Uh... I'll be right up!" I purchased it that very spring afternoon.
And so... time has since then quietly slipped away... my hair has gone white and my bones ache a wee bit more, but it now seems I will have been caretaker for this little Alpine for almost all of 40 years, with the anniversary due to arrive the in spring of this year of our Lord 2021. I've tried my best to preserve the car, and I think I've done fairly well, all things being equal. It's definitely not perfect, but it's perfect enough. Sometime this spring I will drink a toast to LtCmdr Baughman and his lovely wife Joanne, and quietly tell them how much I've appreciated their memory-filled gift.
Mrs. Baughman, as it happens, later became a dental assistant working for my own dentist, so as such, she got to 'visit' with the car on several occasions when I would drive it there to get my teeth cleaned. If I hadn't driven it to a visit, she'd always ask how 'her' Alpine was, and I'd always let her know it was doing just fine, and I'd share some stories about where my wife and I had recently been in it. Mrs. Baughman retired after a time, and passed away in 2016, knowing her treasured memories were still in good hands. She was buried next to her beloved Robert, in Arlington National Cemetery, forever together.
The car, and me, in recent years.
The base agent price sheet, from Mrs. Baughman's records. I think this may have actually been for an earlier year car, but I suspect that's the only information the agent had, being he was located in far-off Reykjavik, and likely didn't get the most recent updates!
A place, and a man, of honor.