A keg-like time capsule was also buried with the 1957 Plymouth and it escaped in remarkably unscathed condition. Besides a dazzling 48-star American Flag surviving along with other Tulsa items such as city and state documents and restaurant menus — make my 15-cent hamburger well-done, please — contest entries were also found in the capsule.

However, the winner, one Raymond Humbertson of Maryland, had passed away in 1979, so his two sisters were awarded the now-rusted Plymouth. The story goes that Humbertson, a career Marine stationed in San Diego, was returning home to see his ailing father (who passed away two months later) and stopped in Tulsa along the way, eventually making his way downtown to Tulsarama! headquarters on Boston Avenue, putting his date with fate in motion.

Rumor has it Chrysler offered the sisters a new car in exchange for the rusty Plymouth Belvedere, a car inspired by bubble-topped jet fighters of that era, and one with lines to die for. But, with the sisters in their eighties and nineties and their driving days long past, and with so many nieces and nephews in the family, giving a new car to only one of them wouldn’t work too well, either, so they easily nixed the offer.

As for just keeping “Miss Belvedere,” as the Plymouth was dubbed by Sharon King Davis, the 2007 Tulsarama! chairwoman,
“With 18 of us,” joked nephew Don Humbertson, “if we couldn’t find a permanent home in a museum, Plan B was that every year-and-a-half the car would rotate through the family...I didn’t foresee too much of a problem with that. Would anyone?”
Foster was confident that he could resurrect the old gal with his Ultra One product and bring her back to life, at least cosmetically.

For Foster and Ultra One, it was part publicity stunt, part passion. The opportunity would present Foster, a classic car lover, with a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work with a once-in-a-lifetime car. And, indeed, when he was finally done years later — after investing countless hours and sinking some $20,000 into the project — “Miss Belvedere” now looks refreshed; some might even say she looks “simply mahvelous, dahling.” Some of her bright chrome and stainless-steel trim now wink dreamily in the sunlight. Her crisp, aerodynamic lines show beautifully, despite bubbled paint and rusted holes, with her wide whitewalls and cone-style moon wheel covers accentuating her timeless, ethereal beauty.

Foster acknowledged that, at first, the extent of the corrosion wasn’t apparent until the car was in his shop. So, he did his best to clean “Miss Belvedere” and to stabilize her condition. Given the car’s fragility and the fact that many parts were frozen, he said it would not be possible to make “Miss Belvedere” roadworthy.

Foster always believed that the Plymouth — “a true piece of Americana” — deserved to be in a permanent museum exhibit, but most museums he spoke with said they could only offer her but temporary shelter.

Foster and the owners thought, “no dice.” They felt the Plymouth deserved better.

When Foster spoke with representatives of the Smithsonian, they essentially said they only accept “pristine” pieces. Other museums of note said much of the same.

Even Tulsa, which hadn’t seen this much publicity since 1949 when 100,000 people jammed downtown for a parade for the movie premier of “Tulsa” (in Technicolor!), didn’t want the Plymouth anymore.
Sure, “Miss Belvedere” could’ve been put up for auction or privately sold, and she would’ve sold in a heartbeat, no doubt — possibly for an ungodly sum despite the caked-on mud, burnt-orange rust and an interior minus an interior. Who knows what somebody would pay for a one-of-a-kind time capsule/rustbucket?

However, a new owner-entrepreneur might undertake the current rage in the e-commerce marketplace, as has been done with pieces from the Titanic or Michael Jordan’s playoff jerseys: he could cut up “Miss Belvedere” into a zillion pieces and sell them online as automotive art for $19.95 a pop.

Forget about scoring a pair of leaf springs, however. According to lawnmower man Buck Rudd, one of them fell off when the car was being lifted out of its personal watering hole, as did many other smaller pieces (along with a shower of rust). Most of the vault was filled in with earth soon afterwards, leaving below parts that didn’t disintegrate (and a potential payday for automotive grave robbers).

Considering what a buyer might do with “Miss Belvedere,” her owners and Foster weren’t about to let her go to anyone unless it would be displayed in a public setting. Besides, the sisters thought it would be disrespectful to their brother, Ray Humbertson, a kind and loving man who always gifted presents to his family (although those gifts were usually in a bit nicer condition than this last gift to them).

Destiny calls

Enter Wayne Lensing, owner of Historic Auto Attractions – A Journey Through Time, in Roscoe, Ill. Admittedly, Lensing had never heard of “Miss Belvedere” despite knowing a thing or two about unique automobiles. But after a phone call from Foster in 2015 offering to donate the car to his museum, and a quick Google search by Lensing, the deal was sealed.

Lensing, 73, and a member of the Illinois Stock Car Racing Hall of Fame, which is housed in his museum, couldn’t believe his good fortune.
“When I saw the pictures online and briefly read up on ‘Miss Belvedere,’ I said, ‘Good gosh! What a story! People love a story like this. And what a main character!’”
Many famous cars have stories to them. Some are true, some are made for publicity, some to spice up a sale — maybe even some of the cars in his very museum — but a story like this? One that’s lasted 50 years and comes with provenance?
“Nope,” Lensing said, “ain’t none around like this. I wanted the car here right then and there.”
It wouldn’t be until late 2017 that the 1957 Plymouth Belvedere was finally delivered to the museum in Roscoe, a small village about 80 miles west of Chicago. The museum may be in the middle of nowhere, but to Lensing, it’s in the middle of everywhere. He owns Lefthander Chassis, one of the country’s largest high-performance parts suppliers for racing cars, which is located across the street from Lensing’s museum. The business has been located there for more than 40 years, the museum for 20.
1960 Cadillac limousine once owned by Howard Hughes
The museum started when Lensing bought a black 1960 Cadillac limousine once owned by Howard Hughes and stored it in the former schoolhouse where he started his parts business. He was amazed by the reactions of friends and customers alike. And, unlike The Righteous Brothers, he’s never lost that loving feeling for both his cars and the reactions of people when they see them.
“I can’t tell you the joy I get when I see that,” he said.
Lensing believes that maybe, just maybe, the two-tone Desert Gold and Sand Dune White 1957 Plymouth Belvedere Sport Coupe, one of 67,268 manufactured for 1957 with a base price of $2,419, was supposed to end up here all along, as if the fickle finger of fate beckoned her to him.

Consider this: Lensing, who was born in Iowa, moved to nearby Belvidere, Ill., in 1968 when he got a job as an assembly-line worker there for, you guessed it, Chrysler-Plymouth, where he worked until 1984. He currently lives in Belvidere, and now he owns “Miss Belvedere.” — Believe it or not!

Almost home

When the Plymouth finally made it to Roscoe, there was just one problem for Lensing: where would he put her?

His 36,000-sq.-ft. museum was filled to the brim with 100 cars, countless pieces and exhibits of American history, including one of the largest John F. Kennedy collections in the world (“my favorites,” he says). It also features an incredible “Day in Dallas” display, as well as the original flag that was draped over JFK’s casket in 1963. There’s even a piece from the remains of the 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder in which James Dean perished.

The time-ship delay gave Lensing a chance to sort things out for “Miss Belvedere,” his newest star attraction. Parking space in his museum was at a premium, so much so that ground was just broken for an additional 50,000-sq.-ft. building that he hopes will be ready by next summer. That leaves “Miss Belvedere” in a cramped corner, a place where she probably feels right at home, at least for now.

Some of the famous cars “Miss Belvedere” is teamed with include a trio of “Batman” movie cars and the iconic “Batmobile” from the 1960s TV show; the Delorean from “Back to the Future II;” the original “Family Truckster” from “National Lampoon’s Vacation;” a recreation of the “Ecto-1” from “Ghostbusters,” as well as a dozen world leaders’ cars. There’s the 1956 Cadillac Secret Service car that was directly behind JFK’s car on that fateful day in Dallas, Adolf Hitler’s monstrous six-wheel staff car; Joseph Stalin’s 1937 Packard Super 12 and land yachts from the Eisenhower, Truman and Calvin Coolidge administrations.
Adolf Hitler’s monstrous six-wheel staff car
Elvis and Conray Twitty’s personal rides are here, too — their towering images, guitars, gold records and music accompanying each exhibit — and there’s even a “finger lickin’ good” Kentucky Fried Chicken display featuring Colonel Sanders’ enormous black-and-yellow 1939 Lincoln limousine.