I’ve managed to miss the annual Orphan Car Show in Ypsilanti every year for the past decade or so.  Not on purpose–it’s just that something always seems to come up.  This year, I was determined to attend the event, which as its name suggests is a gathering of “orphan” vehicles whose manufacturers have gone out of business.  (The most recent inductee to the ranks would be Mercury, and it’s a fair bet that next year will see a collection of Cougars and Montereys joining the festivities.)


Unfortunately, this year’s show was rained out.  A brace of thunderstorms squatted over southeast Michigan and dumped enough rain to flood the river-side park where the event was to take place.  Even though the sun came out, the planned show grounds were a marsh.  All was not lost, though.  A few of the cars that had gathered for the show turned up in the parking lot of the nearby Automotive Heritage Museum, also known as the world’s last Hudson dealer–so I had some interesting vehicles to check out.  And when will I ever complain about getting to do that?

Metropolitans never fail to grab my attention.  I wanted one when I was eleven, and I still want one now.

Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind having a Citroen SM, either.  Although technically not an “orphan,” since Citroen is still in business, the SM was nevertheless left behind when sales stopped in 1974 (thanks to changing US regulations) and later when its parent company pulled out of the U.S.

The Kaiser Traveler is the spiritual successor to both the modern hatchback and the Chevrolet Avalanche.

I don’t think the AMC Pacer is the spiritual successor to anything (the original iMac, maybe?) but they’re always fun to see.

This “pregnant elephant” Packard (I unfortunately couldn’t tell you if it’s a ’48, ’49 or ’50 model) is the very definition of the world “patina.”

Dear Subaru:  though we are big fans of the Outback, you did not invent the “sport utility wagon.”  That is all.

Hudson Terraplane.

A trio of British roadsters: Sunbeam Alpine, MG B, Triumph Spitfire.