Clinton man's giant Radio Flyer turns heads

CLINTON, Ill. — If you are short on friends and keen to win the smiles of strangers, ask Rick Sullivan nicely if you can go out for a spin with him.

He'll fix you up.

The crowd-pulling power of his giant red Radio Flyer wagon has to be seen to be believed. Zipping down the road at 60 mph, the dashing wagon has people doing a double-take and then breaking into broad smiles and waving — or giving the extraordinary vehicle two thumbs, way up. Fellow road users flash their lights and honk their horns, all anxious to salute a universal symbol that strums the mystic chords of childhood memory and reminds us of what it's like to be a kid again.

“It takes you back, back to fantasy,” says Sullivan, as he brakes and waves at the same time while cruising roads near his Kathy's Collision Center business in Clinton. “The most common word I hear about this is, `Oh, that's cool, that is so cool.' People remember back to when they were young; it's about memories.”

Few recalled youthful fantasies could loom larger than this present-day reality, however. Sullivan's version of the iconic toy is 17 feet long and 8 feet wide and can seat up to seven windswept passengers. His collision repair business, named for his wife, means he knows his way around reshaping sheet metal, and the mother of all Radio Flyers is based on the frame and mechanicals of a 1995 Oldsmobile.

“This lady wrecked the car, and it only had 70,000 miles and was in great shape,” Sullivan says. “It was perfect for this.”

Everything is accurate down to the tiniest Radio Flyer detail. The metallic sides of the wagon are precisely shaped and rolled over at the top to match the original. The white wheels have red cap centers made from aerosol tops that have been filled with epoxy and drilled and tapped to screw on to the hubs. The illusion of a tray-like body suspended over the wheels is pulled off with some clever trompe l'oeil black painting that neatly separates the parts and fools the eye.

An 8-foot black handle is folded back against the front of the wagon and was fabricated from 2½-inch exhaust tubing. “And the wagon is designed so the steering wheel can't be seen from the outside,” says Sullivan, 59. “I didn't want to spoil the wagon illusion.”

Always in the market for interesting spare-time projects, he was inspired to create Radio Flyer after bumping into pictures of a similar large-scale motorized version made by an Alaskan couple from Sarah Palin's hometown of Wasilla. “But theirs was made of wood and is only a two-seater,” Sullivan said, struggling to keep a note of triumph out of his voice. “And it took them a year to build it.”

The collision expert got cracking with copious help from his talented staff and others and crossed the finish line in just four weeks and four days. Designed as a business promotional vehicle with parades in mind, it was done in time for the festive season of 2010 and has seen heavy-duty parade activity ever since.

“I'd say the most difficult part of it all was putting air shocks on the back so that when Santa Claus got in it he didn't squat it all down,” Sullivan says. “An Oldsmobile is not designed for 300 pounds towards the end of the car, and Santa can be hefty.”

The owner is never at a loss to fill the seats with other eager passengers, either, according to Heidi Black, the office manager at Kathy's Collision. “It doesn't matter where he goes, he gets stopped by people and he's always so unbelievably nice to them,” she says. “He'll stop, let parents and their kids get in, and take them for a ride.”

Even the Radio Flyer company is on board with the notion that imitation on the grand scale is the sincerest form of flattery. “They've got an advertising executive coming down to look at it on the July 4 weekend,” Sullivan says.

And just why did they name the original wagons Radio Flyer? It turns out the man who founded the company in 1917, an Italian immigrant to Chicago named Antonio Pasin, wanted to tap into the early 20th-century zeitgeist. Struck by the excitement surrounding the invention of radio and the thrilling success of mankind's long quest for powered flight, Pasin opted for Radio Flyer as he sought to stoke the imaginations of his young target audience.

Born in 1897, Pasin died in 1990 and so never saw Sullivan's extraordinary tribute to the Radio Flyer concept. But back in Clinton, as we round another corner and are confronted with yet more waving and smiling strangers, it's easy to imagine how Pasin would have loved it.