I purchased my 1947 Alma in early October 2014 from Dan at www.VintageCampers.com in Brazil, Indiana. She was in pretty rough shape. Duct tape was plastered over the front corners, literally holding things together. The entire camper was coated in blue paint, including the exterior trim, which had been covered with sticky roofing tape and painted over. Inside, mildew covered the walls. Being made of Masonite that wasn’t properly sealed at the factory—and after nearly 70 years of wear—the trailer had more waves than the Queen Mary. Still, the best part was that most of it was still there, right down to the original corn cob light by the front door. The fact that it still existed at all felt like a small miracle.
I live in Evansville, Indiana, which is about a five-hour drive—when you’re not towing a trailer that hasn’t touched a road in 40 years. The tires looked like they’d come off old farm trucks, log wagons, or whatever else could spare a bald set of wheels. But, surprisingly, they were all holding air. We strapped on some temporary tow lights, and off we went.
My father-in-law joined me for the trip so we could check out the other campers on Dan’s property. A mile down the road, the door swung open—my first hint that it was going to be a long trip. After a quick stop to tie it shut and fuel up, we were rolling again… until downtown Indianapolis traffic brought our next big problem. We heard a horrible noise and assumed it was someone else—until smoke started pouring off our trailer. One of the drum brakes had locked up, flat-spotting the tire badly as I dragged the trailer down the off-ramp, sparks flying. I was sure the tire had exploded. But after backing up about 10 feet, something must’ve shifted and freed the jammed brake. The wheel spun again. Shaken but determined, we rumbled back onto the road—minus a good portion of one tire—and limped the rest of the way home, just hoping to keep the Alma in one piece.
On October 5, 2014, I backed her into the pole barn where I’d do the restoration. By May 10, 2015—more than 800 hours later—she was 95% complete and ready to camp. I’m proud to say that every part of the rebuild was done by my own hands. A buddy helped tear off some Masonite on day one. My wife pitched in for a bit of cleaning. My mother-in-law sewed the curtains. And that’s it.
I’ve always wished the walls could talk, because according to Dan’s family, this Alma once traveled with the circus through the ’40s, ’50s, and ’60s. The fact that she survived is incredible. And now she’s not just surviving—she’s thriving.
By Justin Heim, “I am proud to say that my hands were the only hands to work on this camper.”
