Don Bernardo’s Studebakers
Finding a museum, in one of the confines of South America, dedicated to a disappeared mythical brand is already an unusual fact. Having the opportunity to visit it with its own founder is without a doubt extraordinary. Last weekend I visited the two museums in Santiago where I was also warmly welcome, but meeting Bernardo Eggers was something absolutely unexpected.
Osorno is 800 km south of Santiago, so ruled out an on purpose trip to visit the Mancopulli Museum. I had planned to spend the weekend in Punta Arenas, Patagonia, where I expected to see colonies of royal penguins, sea lions and why not whales. Unfortunately, the cheap tickets I had been told about could not be obtained two days in advance of the flights, so I decided on Puerto Montt. Taking a night bus, as well as being cheaper, allowed me to make better use of my time, so after dinner I embarked on a bus that in the morning had to leave me in the capital of Los Lagos region. I had already woken up when at 8 o'clock in the morning the bus stopped in Osorno. I have taken advantage of the fact that there is a museum dedicated to Studebaker nearby and without thinking too much I’ve decided to go down and go look for it. The local bus terminal was a few meters away so I’ve been able to get on one that was about to leave for Puyehue. I arrived at the museum one hour before the opening, so I took advantage of a millefeuille for breakfast in the cafeteria.
Upon Don Bernardo arrival, I’ve been lucky to enter, before the arrival of the two school buses that would soon fill the museum rooms with children. Studebakers, most of them perfectly restored, are the only cars in Helmut Eggers’ room, named after the founder’s father. 22 years ago today, the museum was inaugurated, so Don Bernardo, the founder, was especially happy. He has been tremendously nice to me, letting me go behind the chains and taking pictures of the interior of the cars (in Chile they call them “autos”, not “carros” or “coches”, as in other Spanish-speaking countries). "You had privileges that not everyone has," he told me, for which I am enormously grateful.
Bernardo Eggers thought about setting up a car museum by 1994. His most direct family seamlessly supported him, but not everyone in his family environment encouraged him in the project: "you did not even do well in agriculture and now you're going to open a car museum on credit?" The fact is that the illusion was more powerful and he pushed forward. The idea came to his mind when he was offered half a dozen Studebaker that added to the two he already had, and then another and another and so on to complete a splendid collection, Studebaker's largest in the world outside the United States. The Studebakers remind him of his childhood, especially the 1949 2R5 truck like the one his father had. Unfortunately he died in a car accident near Osorno, when Bernardo was only 13 years old. He was driving a European car, maybe that's why most of the cars in his museum are American.
In the room that bears the name of his father there are thirty chronologically ordered Studebaker of all times. 90% of the museum's vehicles are donations, like the 1925 fire truck that was donated by the Llifen fire department in 1998, in the state you can see in the pictures. Among the pre-war Studebakers, the 1934 Commander is striking. The 1950 yellow Commander Coupé, which was part of the initial purchase that gave rise to the museum, with that futuristic front and rocket shape, leaves no one indifferent. Don Bernardo is especially proud of the white 1963 Avanti, the only one in the collection that was not originally registered in Chile. Its red interior is as impressive as the exterior. Some posters of Raymond Loewy, its designer, decorate the back of the room, behind the beautiful 1950 Champion convertible that arrived at the museum in a deplorable state.
The green 1946 Champion coupe also has a strong personality. Among many Studebakers, the inside of the Hawk with the primitive air conditioning diffusers also attracts attention.
Right at the entrance of the museum there is a Ford TT truck that gives way to the next room where there are vintage toys and scale trains that would delight Sheldon Cooper.
Further on in an open courtyard there are a few unrestored cars. I loved an Opel Blitz truck that I did not know, all covered in moss, and a Citroneta or Citrola, a 2CV assembled in Chile, in Arica, between 1953 and 1979. The first series were 2 doors, with an open boot like a pick-up, similar to the Renault Mini 4S, which I saw in Uruguay. The museum unit is a later version and already has the four-door body and lid in the trunk.
In a second room there were more American cars, mostly from the 1950s. A Ford Anglia, like the Weasleys’ one in Harry Potter, and a Mercedes pontoon, seemed tiny in comparison. A couple of Chevrolet pick-up reminded me of the ones that appear in my post on the Barquisimeto Supplies Market. In this case, unlike the Venezuelan ones, they were perfectly restored and resting in the museum.
In the background there is still a third room full of cars. Here Europeans and Americans from different eras are mixed. There could not miss a BMW Isetta like the ones I've seen in all the Chilean museums and a couple of Volvo PV and an Amazon. In one corner there was even a MKI Fiat Ritmo.
After visiting the museum I continued the trip to Puerto Montt. I’ve even had time to write this post on the bus. No doubt, I’ll never forget D. Bernardo’s fantastic museum and his warm welcome. I am looking forward to returning to Patagonia soon to be able to make another visit.
