AND then there was one.
After years of hard driving, there is finally only one Checker Cab on the streets of this town.
This ultimate symbol of New York – a piece of the city embedded in hearts, minds and tour books worldwide – belongs to Earl Johnson, who has been driving his Checker since 1978.
Johnson became the last of a dying breed when Johann Struna’s 1981 Checker failed an inspection in December. Rather than lay out $5,000 for a new chassis – on top of the tens of thousands of dollars he’s spent over the years in his ceaseless, friendly battle with Johnson – Struna turned off the ignition for the last time.
“I always said I would retire with the car,” 65-year-old Struna said, obviously heartbroken. “But I thought the car would last a little longer.”
Johnson refused to gloat. Maybe his triumph just hasn’t sunk in yet. For the entire year and a half that Struna and Johnson were involved in their fight to the death, Johnson was certain that the call of his retirement villa in Jamaica would one day be louder than the call of the road.
“I never thought this would happen,” he said. “It feels good, I guess. But, like Johann, I guess I’ll drive it until it fails inspection.”
The next inspection for the Last Checker is March 25 – and 60-year-old Johnson almost sounds like he hopes his 21-year-old relic, with 978,000 miles on it, will fail.
“Whatever happens now is fine,” he said. “I’m ready to get out.”
All this anticlimactic behavior surprises Lou Pepe, whose Mira Auto Body in Astoria keeps Checkers alive (even when their owners wish it wouldn’t).
“Earl should be honored by the mayor,” Pepe said. “He’s the last one driving the symbol of New York City. We tease him about it, but he’s the champ.”
When Struna failed his inspection, he naturally turned to Pepe, who is to Checkers what Stradavarius was to fiddles.
Yet it was Pepe who advised the Slovenia-born driver against sinking another $5,000 into the beat-up car, no matter how much history it had under the hood.
“After a point, it isn’t worth spending more money to keep the car alive,” Pepe said. “You can’t be romantic about it.”
Yes, you can – when you’re talking about a Checker, a rolling living room that recalled the good old days when taking a cab meant never having to say you’re sorry to your knees.
But when the Checker Cab Co. of Kalamazoo, Mich., went out of business in 1982, the cars began to fade away by unnatural selection.
“New York didn’t abandon the Checker. The Checker abandoned New York,” said Allan Fromberg, spokesman for the city’s Taxi and Limousine Commission.
Fromberg praised Struna’s achievement as runner-up, but defended his agency’s decision to order him off the road.
“He was a true star and a lovely gentleman,” Fromberg said. “But our first mission is safety. A taxicab must be safe first and a cultural icon second.”
Struna understands completely, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“My car was actually in better shape than Earl’s,” he said of his beater with “only” 385,000 miles on it. “Look, I did my best. I fixed what I could, but I couldn’t fight the odds.”
Driving with Struna in the last days was always a delightful experience, especially in springtime, when he dressed up the dolls on his dashboard in an Easter motif.
Everyone who got into that cab – after they stretched out and enjoyed the luxury first – urged Struna to stay on the road. He’d tell them about the $10,000 a year it cost him to do so. It usually earned him a nicer tip.
“But now it’s over,” he said. “It’s sad, but what are you gonna do?”