A map and Piston Vista ratings can be found at the Piston Vista Northeast Classic Car Museum page.
Do you remember the Twilight Zone TV show? Allow me a moment to refresh your memory or, at the very least in true Twilight Zone fashion, implant a memory. The Twilight Zone typically started by depicting a perfectly normal scenario which was followed by Rod Serling’s narrative which indicated things were about to become strange. Shortly after Rod’s commentary, one of the characters would usually see or experience something small that was out of the ordinary. This was the sign that they entered the Twilight Zone. For example, one episode depicted a guy who tossed change into a box and one of the coins came to a rest on its edge. That odd little moment was the start of his trip into the Twilight Zone. The trips get strange from that point forward.
My Twilight Zone moment occurred on a Monday in June 2017 when I visited the Northeast Classic Car Museum in Norwich, New York. Like several of the TV episodes, my experience was not scary…just quirky. Norwich is a relatively small town. You can go from the outskirts, to city center, and out the other side quicker that moving through a black hole at a speed faster than light itself.
The strange thing, my Twilight Zone moment, was when I realized this little town had a relatively large car museum and one that housed the largest collection of Franklin automobiles in the United States, if not the world. Generally speaking, large museums are found in large cities because large cities offer a large number of visitors to support the large museum. Large generally needs large. Small town, large museum…this was different enough to be noticed.
I arrived at the museum just a few moments after they opened on a weekday. I approached the ticketing desk but there was no receptionist. Hmmm…just a little strange but I was likely the first visitor through the door that morning so it should not have surprised me…but it did. After looking at some memorabilia for a few minutes the receptionist arrives, takes my money, and gives me a museum map. Not overly friendly but not unfriendly either…just like a Twilight Zone character…uncharacteristically uncharacteristic. The map showed a circuitous route through the museum and I was left wondering once again why many museums don’t create a nice natural flow for their exhibits (more on that pet peeve in another article at another time). This is the third strange thing and I suddenly realize that I am likely in The Zone.
I enter the museum after the receptionist invites me to ask the docent any questions. The docent greeted me within five feet of my passing through the main doors. He was an appropriately aged retiree with a passion for cars and a slow but purposeful pace of a senior citizen. He looked like a kind old grandfather with grey hair and glasses. In a calm grandfatherly voice he says “Hello! If you have any questions please let me know.” In a middle-age voice I say “Good Morning. Thank you. I will.” Those were his first words and about the last of mine. I was officially in The Zone. He was a security system wrapped in the stolen skin of a grandfather. He was never more than 10 feet away from me at all times despite my best efforts to move beyond his field of surveillance. I tried to walk faster but he sped up…unreasonably fast for a man his age. I tried to evade but he knew how to cut me off at each pass. I felt like a cow going through steel gates thinking I was about to reach freedom but instead was rushing headlong into a certain slaughterhouse death. I was trapped. How do I get out of The Zone? HELP!!!
The plus side? The security system was also a mobile information terminal! Vast amounts of knowledge delivered in an easily understood and conversational manner. The museum was fantastic with a wonderful collection of Franklins and other assorted American iron from the 1900’s through to the muscle car era. The main question for viewers of this Twilight Zone episode was “What would you do if you were a prisoner in paradise?” I was a prisoner of the docent but he provided invaluable information.
The Northeast Classic Car Museum represents the passion of George Staley who was an aviation mechanic and engineer during and after WWII. He apparently prepared the Enola Gay for its historic mission. After the war, Mr. Staley and three other men started overhauling aircraft accessories. After selling the business he started building garages to house his cars, which grew bigger and bigger until becoming a museum.
The museum itself is unassuming because it is composed of metal industrial buildings located in a pleasant neighborhood. You won’t find opulence here unless you are looking at the cars. Today the museum has, quite possibly, the largest collection of cars manufactured in New York. In fact, on a wall in the ticketing area there is floor to ceiling map of New York with the locations and names of all the manufacturers highlighted. It looks like a web with all the lines pointing to various cities….I am stunned…I had no idea New York was so prolific. Mr. Staley created this little museum in part as a nod to the prolific New York vehicle manufacturing scene…although there are also several non-New York vehicles.
The museum is worth the trip through The Zone even if you only see the evolution of the Franklins. Franklins had air-cooled motors before it was cool to have air-cooled motors. I quickly realized that Franklins were more than just an updated horse buggy with a motor. By the 30s and 40s they had created some very exciting looking vehicles that pushed the envelope of styling. Franklin was producing cars with beautiful swooping fenders and lush interiors that would be the envy of fat-cat bankers back in the day.
The Northeast Classic Car museum is a real treat for those car lovers that like the unusual. Besides the Franklins, they have the following plus much more.
- 1899 Leggett
- 1907 Cadilllac
- 1909 Victor Runabout
- 1910 Firestone Columbus
- 1915 Scripps-Booth
- 1921 Mitchell
- 1934 Franklin Airman Sedan
- 1948 Playboy
My complaints? I don’t dare talk about them for fear of another trip through the Twilight Zone.
