Dozens of Inwood residents filled the streets in a mournful procession for one of the neighborhood’s beloved old timers.
Harry Ettling’s 1982 Honda Civic.
The rustbucket known throughout the neighborhood as “Bluey” (despite the almost complete lack of original sky blue paint) finally went to the great parking lot in the sky Saturday with the odometer pinned at more than 170,000 miles.
Ettling donned a suit and top hat to lead the funeral march on Seaman Avenue near the corner of 207th St., where his pride and joy was loaded onto a flatbed truck for its last ride — to the junkyard.
A bouquet of flowers adorned Bluey’s discolored hood.
“Everybody in the neighborhood knows this car,” Ettling said. “People have come up to me and said, ‘Ever since I was a little toddler, I’ve been seeing this car on the street.’ And that’s a beautiful thing. I think in that way, Bluey’s influence and his impact on the neighborhood and his memory, if not him, will certainly live on for many years to come, if not, forever.”
Bluey’s journey to hunk-of-junk began soon after Ettling bought her.
“It got totaled along with three other parked cars on Fort Washington Avenue,” he said.
Bluey was also turned upside down in the Washington Heights riots in 1992, but Bluey was back on the road after $1,500 in repairs.
Along the way, the car became increasingly decrepit — and increasingly beloved.
“It became a neighborhood icon,” he said. “There wasn’t a day that went by that some kids didn’t stop by and get their picture taken by my car.”
One major issue finally drove Bluey off the road: “I was afraid my feet would go through the floor from the rust,” Ettling said.
After a Dixieland band performed, New Orleans-style, Bluey was loaded onto the truck and Ettling’s neighbors headed to the local bar for a final tribute to an old friend.
Someone yelled out if Ettling intended to buy a new set of wheels.
“I’m not getting a new car,” Ettling said. “I need time to heal.”
