‘The minute we decided to take the body off the car was the day we decided to make it a show car.’

Barry Gruer, 40, knew at age 9 that he wanted to be a dentist. He noticed his manual dexterity early on. Most dentists are perfectionists and detail-oriented, says Gruer, who has practiced pediatric dentistry in San Diego for 14 years and is a clinical associate professor at UC San Diego Medical School, assisting in reconstructive surgery. It is no wonder, then, that a worn bushing in his 1957 Mercedes-Benz led to a car restoration project that became a four-year obsession. The classic car ate thousands of hours and $85,000. It also led a novice to his first car show--the prestigious Concours d’Elegance at Pebble Beach. His ivory-colored roadster was voted best of show by a national convention of gull-wing and roadster owners and was displayed with historic vehicles from the Stuttgart, West Germany, museum in August to commemorate Mercedes-Benz’s 100th anniversary. Times staff writer Nancy Reed interviewed him at his Hillcrest office and Dave Gatley photographed him at his Mount Helix home.

I remember when I was going to school at USC in 1964. I was walking through the campus and saw this strange car sitting next to the road--and these doors that opened unconventionally. I turned around and it happened to be a Mercedes with gull-wing doors. I took a real good look at the car and said to myself--some day I would love to own a car like that, not knowing that in my 30s I would take advantage of buying its corollary, the 300 SL Roadster.

I didn’t know the historical events behind it at the time I bought it, so I basically went into it kind of blind. In 1957, Mercedes stopped gull-wing production and brought out the roadster. I liked the way it looked, and it was the fastest car in the world in 1957.

I bought it 4 1/2 years ago in very drivable condition. Everything was wonderful, and I had a good time driving it for about six months. It was not in perfect condition by any means--the upholstery was ripped and the top was faded.

One November, I parked the car on a down slope and went in and voted. When I came back, I couldn’t get the car in reverse. There are a couple of shift bushings that often wear out. They are only 58 cents apiece--but in order to change them it takes a lot of interior disassembly of the car.

Consequently, I started taking things apart. I thought, while I have this apart, why don’t I chrome it? My compulsive and inquisitive nature just became overwhelming, and I just continued with no prior knowledge of car workmanship or disassembly. It got to the point that I had so much of the car apart--that--where do you turn back? You can’t stop. And you can’t just put it back together and say that’s enough--you would feel psychologically defeated.

It turned out to be a total restoration. If I had prior knowledge, maybe I never would have done it. The minute we decided to take the body off the car was the day we decided to make it a show car.

There were lots of frustrations because we were restoring a limited-production car where if you needed parts, you had to go through great efforts. It goes along with a person who goes into fine detail. Instead of sitting down in the evening after the kids went to sleep, I would be working in the garage. I wouldn’t do another car; it takes too much of your time. At the competition there were people examining the car with magnifying glasses, checking the bolts and coming out from underneath the car. That was a great amount of pleasure that people knew and cared to look that closely.

I go to a car show and I will bring a little box of cleaning things and put different tire dressing on and dust off the car, make sure there are no finger marks, and do everything I possibly can within an allocated period of time. Yet the guy who has had a professional restoration done--the shop will be there with six people cleaning the car before the judge comes by.

I lost first place once because I was so wrapped up in cleaning things . . . that I had forgotten to set the clock to the exact moment.

The most driving I do in it now is on and off the trailer.

I am not saying that is an equitable trade-off. Yeah, it’s nice to have a nice beautiful perfect car, but you lose the thrill and excitement and exhilaration of being able to drive it. That is the next hurdle, do I sell it and put the money toward my children’s college education and buy an alternative car for fun, or do I keep it? I don’t know yet.