Classic cars to fuel modern cure

COSTA MESA — Jerry Fialkowski came to the Orange County Fairgrounds Saturday to do his bit for prostate cancer research. For his troubles, he got a small reward — a 1932 Downs Dearborn Roadster, in mint condition and ready to drive off the lot.

Fialkowski, a Lomita resident who manages an aerospace company, was among hundreds of people entering the raffle at the 8th annual Cruisin’ for a Cure event.

The charity car show, which diverts all its proceeds to the Jonsson Comprehensive Cancer Center at UCLA, raised extra money by selling $20 raffle tickets for the vintage roadster.

Fialkowski purchased a number of tickets, but more for the cause than the car; he had met Debbie Baker, the president of Cruisin’ for a Cure, at an earlier charity event and vowed to attend the fairgrounds show. When Baker and her assistant drew his name onstage and called him up, he was still deciding what to do with his bounty.

“The bottom line is, it goes to a great cause and to Debbie Baker,” he said to the crowd. “She’s saving lives.”

Cruisin’ for a Cure, which bills itself as the nation’s largest one-day car show, does more than just raise funds for cancer research. Throughout the day, Jonsson personnel offered free prostate screenings in a trailer on the fairgrounds.

Claudia Harvey, the special events coordinator for the cancer center, said the car show was a method of getting men to come in for a checkup.

“Bring the cars, and the cars will bring the men,” she said. “Once they’re here, you can get them tested.”

For those without medical worries, the daylong show offered plenty of entertainment, as food vendors set up booths and car owners brought their unique models to display.

Randy Morton, the owner of Rock N Roll Custom in Orange, brought what may have been the most jaw-dropping car of the day: a two-headed BMW with a steering wheel and front windshield on each end. His shop created the model by cutting two cars in half and fusing the front ends together.

In the middle of the car, oddly enough, was a Jacuzzi — for which Morton had a ready explanation.

“That’s where we stick our girls when we find them,” he said. “We clean ’em up good.”