The DeLorean became a pop-culture icon in 1985, and its future is still bright

Pacific Northwest DeLorean Club founder Arnie Brandon has had his DMC-12 for 27 years. (Cody Ellerd Bay)

This story was almost about a refrigerator.

Next month marks the 25th anniversary of the release of "Back to the Future" -- a star vehicle for Michael J. Fox as the time-traveling teenager Marty McFly.

But it was a literal vehicle that really stole the show: the gull-winged DeLorean DMC-12, which transported Marty from one decade to another with the help of a flux capacitor and 1.21 gigawatts of power.

Arnie Brandon, founder of the Pacific Northwest DeLorean Club, remembers driving his DeLorean to the theater to see the movie -- several times -- with other members of the club.

"Going in, nobody thought anything of us sitting there in the parking lot," he says. "But on the way out -- well, that was a different story. People kinda went nuts."

The film's producers had originally cast a refrigerator as the time machine, says James Espey, vice president of the DeLorean Motor Company. They ultimately thought better of it, he says, fearing that kids might climb into refrigerators and get trapped while attempting their own voyage through time.

DeLorean owners like Arnie Brandon tend to be "obsessed." (Cody Ellerd Bay)

OK, so maybe if that refrigerator had been cast, this wouldn't be a story at all. And Espey is quite sure that his company wouldn't have the legendary status that it does.

"I don't think we'd be any better remembered than the Bricklin," he says, referring to another short-lived sports car with gull-wing doors, manufactured in Canada in the 1970s (and ranked by Time magazine as one of "The 50 Worst Cars of All Time").

The DeLorean easily could have met the same inglorious fate. Production lasted less than a year, from 1981 until 1982, when the company's founder, the notorious playboy
John DeLorean, was arrested on drug-trafficking charges. And the initial workmanship by unskilled assembly workers at the DeLorean plant in Northern Ireland left much to be desired.

Despite this, Espey's Texas-based company, which bought up all the surplus parts and now restores the old cars and custom-builds new ones, can hardly keep up with demand. The waiting list for a DeLorean, which can cost anywhere from $25,000 used to more than $57,000 for a custom version, is typically six months.

And, yes, some people do ask for custom time machines, which the company can replicate. "It's a little subculture within our subculture," Espey says.

As for Brandon, a retired sales manager who lives in Bellevue, he bought his car fresh off the lot in 1982. He was on his way to the Corvette dealership when he pulled up next to a DeLorean at a stoplight.

"I made up my mind then and there, that's the car I wanted," he says. "I never got to the Corvette dealer."

When the Irish factory stopped production and the U.S. DeLorean dealerships were disbanding, Brandon sought out other owners. He started the Pacific Northwest DeLorean Club in 1983 and now counts about 100 members -- more than half of the known DeLorean owners in the area. A DeLorean Motor Company affiliate in Bellevue, DMC (Northwest), provides all the parts and service they need.

Brandon says that with the original bugs fixed, DeLoreans are a model of dependability and, he adds mischievously, "all the trouble you'd want to get into."

His DMC has been with him for 27 years and counting, and Brandon says that's all the time travel he needs. "It's been a helluva ride," he says. "I've loved every minute of it."