REAL PEOPLE/Motor Head
‘I’d Buy a Car and Hide It From My Wife’
How Lenny Shiller assembled his stunning vintage automotive collection
Shiller with a few of his 63 prized vehicles, all in working order
WHEN I WAS first married, my wife, Elyse, wasn’t a big fan of my car collection. We were young and struggling, like anyone else early on. I didn’t come from money. So I would buy a car and hide it. The first time I really got flak was when I hid a 1955 Buick Roadmaster in my parents’ garage. We went over there for dinner, and the garage door happened to be open. Elyse was furious. Another time, I had to hide a fire truck from her for a while.
Elyse was an artist, and I built a studio and gallery for her. And eventually, she accepted that I was going to keep on buying old cars. To make it all possible, I’ve invested in old Brooklyn buildings, renovated them myself and then sold the properties. We raised a daughter on the proceeds, had a good life, but some portion of the profits always went into my collection.
The cars everybody wants—the classics—don’t really interest me. I’m drawn to the ones with personality. I’ve got a Checker cab, a Good Humor ice cream truck and an old-time seltzer truck. My pale-green 1965 Chrysler convertible, a real whale of a car, was in the “Love Shack” video for the B-52’s. In all, I’ve got 63 vintage cars and antique trucks in two Brooklyn garages. And I keep everything running.
Ironically, I’m not that fond of driving, but I love these old cars, and I take them out for parades and charity events. Until she died last year, Elyse was always right there beside me, in the passenger seat. She was the love of my life. We were married 51 years. Sometimes when I’m driving, I can still feel her riding next to me.
I read a little book about losing a loved one, and one of the most important things it said was, “Never say ‘if only.’ ” Like, “If only she hadn’t gotten dementia.” You have to keep moving forward. So I try to stay busy in my garage. I think it’s important to pursue your passions for as long as you possibly can. That’s why I don’t give much thought to what will happen with the cars after I’m gone. I try to stay in the present.
After I’m gone, maybe someone will turn my garage into a museum. Or maybe the vehicles will be sold off for charity. That would be fine; I didn’t buy them to keep them together forever. I just enjoy having them now and taking care of them for the next person. —As told to Robin Westen
Lenny Shiller, 80, a retired real estate investor, is president of the Antique Automobile Association of Brooklyn.