'Pop's Wagon' takes a final ride (again) at St. Lucie County Fair's demolition derby

Rob Gardner had the perfect storybook ending planned last year for his late father's station wagon.

Pop's Wagon, a 1967 Chevrolet Bel Air model with unknown mileage and a profound rust problem, was supposed to go out in a blaze of glory during the St. Lucie County Fair's demolition derby. Gardner, a Fort Pierce locksmith, thought that was a more fitting end for the family heirloom than having it unceremoniously hauled away to a scrapyard or sold for parts.

The trouble was, Pop's Wagon played into the role a little too well. The giant wagon, painted with World War II tanks on the sides, an American flag on the roof and tributes to Gardner's parents sprinkled throughout, turned out to be a fan favorite.

Pop's Wagon won the "prettiest car" competition, a somewhat tongue-in-cheek honor at a demolition derby, but an honor nonetheless. And while the baby-blue brawler didn't win the overall competition, it wasn't completely puliverized, either.

So, like many great stories, the Last Ride of Pop's Wagon led to a sequel. Gardner and a few of his friends decided to rebuild Pop's Wagon, if not better than it was before, then at least better-suited to survive the perils of a Saturday night in the western St. Lucie County arena.

Opinion'Pop's Wagon' takes last ride at St. Lucie County Fair demolition derby (maybe)

OpinionA Southern boy and three New Yorkers walk into the St. Lucie County Fair ...

They installed a smaller steering wheel to improve driver Matt Britcher's maneuverability. They added some noisemakers that sound a lot like police sirens. (Intimidating opponents is certainly part of demolition derby protocol.) And, to take away one of the greatest vulnerabilities of any derby entry, they replaced the radiator with an electric fan and electric water pump.

"Now we can hit with our nose," Gardner said triumphantly from the pits before Saturday's competition began. "Everybody is hitting with their rears, because the noses are vulnerable."

Sort of like when Rocky learned to fight right-handed for his rematch against Apollo Creed.

To my untrained eye, it seemed like Gardner and his friends must have gone to great expense to keep Pop's Wagon on life support. However, Gardner said that wasn't so.

He estimated his total expenses since last year's event were $250, including Pop's Wagon T-shirts for the cheering section in the arena's east stands. "The most expensive thing was the T-shirts," Gardner said.

Pop's Wagon's rebirth also featured the return of its signature feature, popcorn blowing from its rooftop exhaust pipe. If there's a less appetizing way to make popcorn in this world, I don't want to know about it.

Of course, Pop's Wagon also took a few dings during last year's competition. Rather than replace metal body panels, Gardner and his team papered the damaged areas over ― literally ― with wallpaper matching the paint job.

"From a distance, it looks pretty good," Gardner said.

When Pop's Wagon joined the other competitors in the prettiest car competition, fans wholeheartedly agreed with Gardner's assessment, roaring their approval as the once-reliable family transportation vehicle was introduced to them.

For the second year in a row, Pop's Wagon won the beauty contest, giving Gardner the opportunity to take one last ride on the wagon's tailgate, hoisting his trophy aloft. It seemed like the evening was going so well. For a few magical minutes, it seemed like another unbelievable underdog story was brewing.

Who would still talk about the Miracle on Ice in the 1980 Winter Olympics if this humble station wagon, which had performed its mundane duties in service of the Gardner family for more than five decades, could somehow conquer the field and go out on a winning note?

Would anyone still remember Buster Douglas knocking out Mike Tyson for one of the most improbable upsets in heavyweight boxing history, if Pop's Wagon could keep its motor running while all its foes were reduced to piles of junk?

Britcher, Pop's Wagon's driver this year and last, was brimming with confidence as he led his steed onto the field of battle ahead of the other nine cars.

"Do I have a tail light out?" Britcher joked with a photographer (me) during the driver and car introductions.

Alas, the roof quickly collapsed on a fairy tale ending soon after the bumping and grinding began.

Pop's Wagon took a vicious hit in its left rear quarter panel from a car with a garish purple-and-green-striped color scheme. The wagon's rusted roof supports gave way, plonking Britcher in the helmet with the remaining metal ceiling.

Britcher threw his orange flag, which is the demolition derby equivalent to tapping out or crying "uncle."

Pop's Wagon sat in one corner of the arena, along with two other vanquished warriors, until a scrappy Ford Mustang with a badly banged-up fastback managed to dispatch the rest of the field, Hunger Games-style.

So was this really Pop's Wagon's final ride into the sunset? After this year's competition, Gardner didn't sound like a beaten man.

"We could whack this back and go again," he said, while surveying damage that would reduce a lesser car owner to tears.

"This was the final episode," his wife, D.J. Gardner, texted me later that evening. "A few parts coming off of it, then it's off to the bone yard."

Still, I know what I saw with my own eyes. After the competition was over, Britcher got back into Pop's Wagon and, with some difficulty, coaxed the engine back to life. While other defeated cars were being carted away on forklifts, Britcher drove Pop's Wagon out of the arena under its own power, hooting triumphantly as he did.

Cah a spirit that indomitable ever truly be crushed? Stay tuned.

This column reflects the opinion of Blake Fontenay. Contact him via email at blake.fontenay@tcpalm.com or at 772-232-5424.

This article originally appeared on Treasure Coast Newspapers: Ancient station wagon's smashing finale at St. Lucie demolition derby