But the stark manual shift lever was backed up by a trio of floor pedals inside this austere old car. Scanning the instrument panel, my eyes snagged on the factory radio delete plate and I was hooked. The twin magnetic-mount miniature religious figures atop the metal dash likely signaled gentle owners. Overall, I would have expected to find a car this nice out in California, not in the New England rust belt. I finally walked around to a smaller sign taped inside the driver side rear door glass. Predicting an asking price of at least $6,000 the sign read; 1954 Plymouth Savoy, Mint Condition, 40,634 original miles. $4,500 firm. I excitedly wrote down the phone number, got into my ’98 Dodge Stratus winter beater (still running great, thank you very much) and headed for home.

Along the route my mind went over the Plymouth’s seemingly pristine condition. It sat on ancient bias-ply tires (a good thing in my book), still had the original wheel covers and was amazingly pure and unmolested. Exactly how pure, I would find out as soon as I got home to my telephone. A call from my cell phone on the road was out of the question since my Verizon cell phone gets terrible reception in the wilds of rural Massachusetts. No I can’t hear you now!

Calling from the land line in my office, the seller told me he bought the car out of New London, Connecticut way back in 1983. The seller was the estate of the last of a group of nuns. That explained the figurines on the dash and the cars high degree of…purity. It turns out the nuns were the original buyers of the car way back when Dwight D. Eisenhower was in the White House. They drove it sparingly – an average of about 1,400 miles per year - during the three decades they owned it. When the final nun went to the great beyond, the current owner bought it with plans to keep it stock and just enjoy it. But since he runs a busy school bus and tour bus enterprise, the car was put into dry storage after covering a mere 38 miles.

Then there was me. Tempted by the high degree of originality, I resisted the idea of yet another needy project car. I asked if the car runs and drives and was told the brakes and clutch had been replaced and there was no overheating or other ugly behavior on record. The seller did admit that the tailpipe was rotted through and the rubber on the side walls of at least one tire was peeling away to expose the inner cords and would need replacement. He had me. I went for a look and we put the car over the open service pit in his bus garage.

Though I did spot some minor localized floor rust caused by moister trapped beneath the rubber floor mat, I’m planning on teaching myself how to weld. The small areas of perforated floorboard would be a great opportunity to practice. Otherwise, the car was truly pristine right down to the factory grease pencil marks and “paint OK” stamps on the firewall. The steel perimeter frame on this pre-unibody Mopar was super clean and bore no scaly surface rust. It looked new! Without current registration and lacking license plates, a road test wasn’t possible though I did tool around the bus yard for a few minutes noting the smooth operation of the column-mounted manual shift linkage. The 217 cubic inch flathead six idled smooth, had good throttle response, didn’t smoke and seemed peppy. Most importantly the oil pressure gauge read right in the middle.

Armed with a wad of cash totaling $4,500, I did try an initial offer of $4,000. But the seller was firm at $4,500 and rightfully so. It may not be a highly desirable convertible, two-door or even station wagon body style, but this austere stripper Savoy four-door sedan is so clean and original it’s a survivor in anybody’s book. The seller, a passionate old car enthusiast, told me he turned down interest from a young caller who admitted he planned to transform it into a primered and slammed rat rod saying; “Sorry but I can’t sell it to you now that you’ve told me that”. My admission that I planned to just preserve it and drive it sealed the deal though I got the seller to throw in free delivery to my driveway about 20 miles away.

Now that it’s mine, this three owner (that’s me) Savoy will enjoy a little refreshing before it hits the road as my daily driver for the coming summer months. I’ll mount some new Coker wide white wall bias ply tires and confirm the safe condition of the braking system - it’s got a single pot master cylinder under the floor so you can’t be too cautious. Then I’ll just drive it and let it take me back in time, one full decade before I was born.

My favorite thing to do whenever I buy any car is to learn as much as I can about it. Even something as mundane as the 1979 Pinto I once owned ignites a learning fever in me – and happily nothing more tangible in that particular case. Willem Weertman’s excellent book Chrysler Engines 1922 – 1998 (available from SAE International) describes the genesis of the Savoy’s 217 flathead six. Initially designed as a replacement for the underpowered inline four used by Plymouth through 1932, this low cost L-head six debuted in 1933 with a displacement of 189.9 cubic inches so Plymouth could keep pace with the V8 powered Fords and Stove Bolt Six Chevys it faced in the low price field. A similar unit with more stroke and 201.3 cubes was used in 1933 Dodge applications.