Disneyland, Legoland, Lincoln Land
Disneyland. Legoland. They conjure up images of unlimited numbers of rides, of multiple princesses and cartoon characters, of brick toys abundant enough to build skyscrapers and Sphinxes. So a destination called Lincoln Land suggests a similar quality of limitlessness.
It’s borne out in reality. Two levels of rack after rack of well-organized, cataloged parts from 1956 to 1999. Multiple bays and lifts for Mark IIs, slabside Lincolns, designer series Marks. Rows of parts cars in various states of disassembly. And what Disney calls its “cast members” are here comprised of seven loyal, mostly long-term staff of mechanics, parts specialists and office support employees.
At the center is Chris Dunn, who built Lincoln Land into the largest and most comprehensive vintage Lincoln service facility in the country (and world). Walt Disney combined the fun and innocence of childhood with the pragmatism of business, and Chris used a similar formula.
You wouldn’t know that if you met him at an LCOC event. You’d think you’d just come across another enthusiastic collector, eager to hear about your cars, tell you about his (ten of them) and swap stories and tech tips.
Chris is energetic, positive and unassuming. His achievement in building Lincoln Land doesn’t seem to cross his mind. He spends more time citing the talents of his staff than talking about himself. He sees most other Lincoln suppliers as part of the same community rather than as competitors. We drive around the block and he introduces me to one of them, whom he’s known for decades.
Chris and a twin brother were born in Syracuse, the youngest of five. His father was a successful department store executive. They moved to New Jersey then Clearwater as his dad moved among chains and up in positions. Chris studied business at St. Petersburg College.
He was drawn to 1960s Lincolns – the peak moldings, suicide doors and other elements of Elwood Engel’s brilliant design spoke to him. A 1963 sedan crossed his path in March of 1978. Two parts cars, a ‘63 and ’64, acquired for $180, followed later that year. His dad was a bit skeptical, so Chris started selling the parts he didn’t need. He printed up business cards that read “Lincoln Continental Specialty Services, 1961-1969” and his father was placated.
Sales were brisk. By 1979 the business had outgrown his parent’s backyard and Chris rented a warehouse that accommodated six cars. In 1983 he moved to one that held fifteen. Two years later, twenty, and by then he was hiring staff, too and got his Florida dealer license. That year, 1985 was also when he moved the business to its current site on Sherwood Street in a light industrial area in Clearwater. It’s held as many as 30 cars inside and 90 outside, although now most have been replaced by dozens of racks holding what became of them. He’s been there ever since, with a fifteen-year foray into a second location, a showroom for selling restored Lincolns, not far away. The Sherwood location is the perfect spot for his kind of business: he’s surrounded by other car-oriented companies, and everything from ceramics and HVAC contractors to lawn care companies and aircraft parts warehouses. Chris greats some of the other business owners by name as we wander around. Some of them rent him space for parts cars. In an area like this, businesses can grow, acquire more space, relinquish inefficient space, contract in recessions, expand when times are good. There’s an atmosphere that’s active, friendly and entrepreneurial. People are trying to succeed, or building on their prior successes.
Clearwater has been the center of vintage Lincoln parts and service for a long time and remains so today. Chris was one of the originals, and painted a picture of those early days: John Cashman, originally in nearby Lakeland and Safety Harbor, then Lithia. Tim Nill, who later bought John’s parts business, but earlier recovering parts from junkyards. Real Lemery in upholstery before selling his patterns to Jim Wallace. Blair Farmer working in a warehouse and Chris in a gas station. All eventually contributing their special skills to different aspects of keeping vintage Lincolns on the road.
Chris is an integral part of that history. His cars have history, too, and he proudly shows the evidence of it: original dealer stickers; letters on faded stationery from the 1960s; manufacturers’ brochures; old photographs. All this memorabilia is tucked away in folders, glassine envelopes and binders in glove compartments and trunks. If seeing the line, “full service records” in an auction listing makes the hearts of true collectors beat faster, some of these documents elevate it more than an hour’s jogging. Chris unfolds the cracked envelopes and washed-out Kodacolor prints with the care and reverence usually afforded to originals of the Declaration of Independence. As much as he loves the cars, you can sense he’d spend many happy hours in the Ford archives. The documents lend even more depth and character to cars already steeped in lore.
Lincoln Land has a reception area, several offices, and one compact service area in which a beautiful 1966 is being worked on by Erik Dalemans the Belgian mechanic Chris refers to glowingly. A larger bay hosts two technicians, Drew Forret and Teresa Connor, breaking a parts car down into salable components. We duck our heads into the next building over, where an office has recently been vacated. Lincoln Land’s administration, including Linda Dalemans and John Haroll will move in here while the original offices are being renovated.
It's a busy place. Chris introduces me to a customer, who is having some work done on his car. A transporter arrives with a totaled Mark IV to be cannibalized for parts. The receptionist, Patti Hillhouse Schriver and a parts specialist, George Miller, work on modern computers (Lincoln Land’s parts website, www.lincolnlandinc.com was revamped recently) and still have an old microfiche machine, a relic that came with an acquisition of an array of parts cataloged on it). A word is exchanged here and there but the interactions are brief and seamless. Everyone seems to know what to do and Chris wisely lets them do it. (There’s a management book in here somewhere.) The atmosphere is collegial and low-stress.
We tour the parts bins, Erik’s workshop, the various offices, a multi-car bay with a Mark IV on the lift and a parts car being dis-assembled. There are a couple dozen other parts cars parked in neat rows (well, relatively). This is a large operation, serving customers worldwide.
Over the course of the day, we drive different cars to Chris’s house, with its eight-bay garage (and room to construct more), another Lincoln supplier around the corner, Chris’s parents’ house, now for sale (only 4 garage bays there), lunch, and just up and down a nearby street. Each car has a story of course. Most have been with him for many years. These are the keepers out of all the Lincolns he’s owned – at least one for every year from 1956 to 2006. Many LCOC members geek out on subtle year changes and even more so on mid-year improvements and we indulge in plenty of that. The cars ride with tightness and solidity – no rattles, no shakes over bumps. They’re cushy Lincolns, not road-sensitive Morgans but they don’t wander all over the asphalt, wallowing from curb to curb, they track straight and true. This is what you’d expect from the stable of the man who owns the largest vintage Lincoln service and parts business, but it’s still impressive. What isn’t expected is the enthusiasm, the excitement, the sheer love of driving. The cars aren’t all concours quality – some are, and others are just very good drivers. Yet Chris’ pride in them and obvious pleasure in taking them out for a spin is supremely evident. He manages the rotation, not letting any of them sit for more than a few weeks. All ten are registered, licensed and insured. The joy in this is about what I’d expect from someone who’d been this deep into Lincolns for around four years. Chris has been at it for more than forty. The parts bins, the service bays, the staff may be all you think Lincoln Land is about, but at the heart of it is this enduring affection for the marque in the man behind the wheels of the cars he loves. Businesses today talk about mission and passion. Sometimes that’s real, sometimes just corporate-speak, but here it is on display without pretension or buzzwords. This is what animates Lincoln Land. This is who I want on the phone when I call about an obscure part and who I’ll buy commonly available parts from in order to support the gestalt.
If you’re anywhere near the Tampa-Clearwater area, stop by. Or if you’re 90 miles east, at another “-land,” make the drive. You’ll find someone genuinely interested in making your Lincoln better, and the lines are far shorter than at Space Mountain!
©️2023 David Moyer
This article originally appeared in issue #368 of Lincoln and Continental Comments, the print magazine of the Lincoln and Continental Owners Club. To subscribe, go to https://lcoc.org/lincoln-continental-comments-2/