Saturday, April 13, 2013

Vern Puntey and the School of Volvo 544


Just a little note about a chance meeting at Hoffman's restaurant downtown. That encounter was with June Hoffman, the owner, and one of my classmates at College V (Please don't call it Porter!) up at UCSC.

I introduced myself, and June immediately said that I fixed her Volvo back in the early seventies when the clutch cable snapped.

I was surprised, because most of the people in my class whom I run into remember me playing the saxophone, but there was a time when I fixed cars for pin money. In my junior year I was shuttling four Volvo 544s in and out of the west side R lot in various states of restoration, and never on my schedule. June's Volvo may not have been a 544, but there was a lot I had to learn, and the Volvo 544 was the perfect way to learn it.

There was one other element in my education that was indispensable, and that was Putney & Perry, the former Rambler dealership in downtown Santa Cruz that switched over to foreign car parts and repairs. The two partners, Vern Putney and Manuel Perry, were perfect foils for each other. Manuel took care of the business end of things, and Vern flexed his considerable knowledge about foreign cars from the counter.

I'm quite sure that whatever parts I bought were bought at Putney & Perry. I probably sent June down to buy the cable, although I can't remember the details.

What I do remember is that when I bought a Citroen DS-21 from an ad in the Buy and Sell Press, my first stop was Vern's counter (where Bob Deasy at the time was the assistant brain) to discuss why this car, with its overwrought hydraulic suspension and underpowered engine, was being abandoned by its owner because he couldn't find a mechanic who could fix the darn thing. What followed my inquiry was a thirty-minute masterclass in French car designs and their application. To me, the shadetree mechanic with a small toolbox of Craftsmans I picked up one at a time at Sears. I did get the thing running, thanks for asking, but it was stolen from a San Jose parking lot.

When Vern had a heart attack in the late seventies, the Sentinel saw fit to put the news on the front page of the daily paper, so great was the city's affection and dependency on this man and his talents.

Sadly, it looks like Putney & Perry, which was sold long ago to successors in name only (judging by their Yelp listings) appears to be closed. There's a For Sale sign out front, even though the windows still announce discounts for UCSC students, like June Hoffman and me.

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