A 74-year-old retired Ford technician built a private collection of more than 200 cars on his own rural Michigan property, and now a township ordinance is forcing him to sell or scrap 20 of them every month. Ron Dauzet says the pace has turned his passion into a race against the clock, with officials checking his progress in person each month. Two years and roughly 180 cars later, he’s still not done, and not every car has gone to a buyer who wanted it.

Ron Dauzet spent decades quietly building one of the largest private car collections in Michigan, and now the local government is forcing him to dismantle it piece by piece, whether he’s ready or not. At 74 years old, the retired Ford powertrain technician is required to sell or scrap 20 cars every single month, with a township inspector showing up to check his progress. His property sits behind trees, invisible from the road and from his nearest neighbor, yet officials still classified the collection as an illegal, unlicensed junkyard. Somewhere in that sprawling inventory of BMWs, Mercedes, MGs, Jeeps, and Porsches are cars Ron would never have chosen to give up on his own terms, so what happens when a lifetime of collecting runs into a deadline nobody asked for?
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A Collection Built One Car at a Time
Dauzet spent a career working as a powertrain dyno-cell technician for Ford, and he poured decades of spare time and know-how into a personal fleet that eventually topped 200 vehicles, a mix of common project cars and genuinely rare survivors, none of them registered or road-ready, all of them stored outdoors on his own land in Northfield Township.
When a Hobby Becomes a Code Violation
Township officials determined the collection violated a local ordinance banning outdoor storage of unregistered vehicles, and rather than allowing a longer wind-down, they set a strict quota: 20 cars gone every month, verified in person. Dauzet has said the arrangement leaves him working seven days a week just to keep pace, since finding buyers, negotiating fair prices, and arranging removal for that many vehicles on a monthly clock is its own full-time job.
The Toll of Selling on Someone Else’s Timeline
Over roughly two years, Dauzet sold or scrapped close to 180 cars, some to buyers who appreciated them, others simply scrapped because there wasn’t time to find the right home. For a lifelong collector, the hardest part hasn’t been letting go of the cars; it’s been losing the ability to decide which ones were worth saving and which weren’t.
A Dispute That Plays Out Across the Country
Zoning conflicts between large private car collections and local governments are far from unique to Michigan — similar disputes have made headlines in states from Pennsylvania to Texas, usually triggered by a neighbor complaint or a routine code-enforcement sweep rather than any single dramatic incident. What often separates a manageable outcome from a forced liquidation like Dauzet’s is whether the collector has time to negotiate a phased compliance plan before the township or county starts issuing formal violations.
What Counts as an ‘Unlicensed Junkyard’ Under Local Code
Most township and county ordinances define an unlicensed junkyard fairly broadly, often triggered simply by storing a set number of unregistered or inoperable vehicles outdoors for more than a specified number of days, regardless of whether the property is visible from a public road or hidden behind trees like Dauzet’s. That broad definition is exactly why a private collection assembled entirely on someone’s own land can still run afoul of local law even without a single formal complaint from a neighbor.
Why Collector Car Storage Rules Vary So Much by State
Some states offer specific legal carve-outs for antique and collector vehicles, allowing owners to store a documented number of unregistered classics outdoors without triggering junkyard or salvage-yard ordinances, but those protections are inconsistent and often depend on county or township-level zoning that can override a more permissive state law. A collector in one jurisdiction might face zero restrictions for the exact same setup that gets someone else, one township over, cited and fined.
The Human Cost Behind the Compliance Schedule
Beyond the logistics of selling twenty cars a month, stories like Dauzet’s routinely surface a deeper toll on collectors forced to liquidate on someone else’s timeline — the loss of control over which cars go to appreciative buyers versus which get scrapped simply because there was no time left to find a better home. That emotional weight is often what resonates most with other collectors reading these stories, many of whom recognize the fear of eventually facing a similar reckoning with their own garages.
A Trend of Aging Collectors Downsizing Under Pressure
Dauzet’s situation reflects a broader pattern playing out as the generation that built large personal collections in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s reaches retirement age, often facing health concerns, rising property taxes, or exactly this kind of code-enforcement pressure that forces a faster wind-down than they ever planned. Estate sales and forced liquidations of long-held collections have become common enough in the hobby that specialized auction houses now build entire business models around handling them.
Property Rights Against Community Standards
At its core, Dauzet’s case sits at the exact intersection where individual property rights collide with a township’s interest in maintaining a certain visual standard for the community, a tension that rarely has a clean resolution that satisfies everyone involved. Whatever the merits on either side, the practical result for Ron Dauzet has been the same: a collection built over decades, dismantled on a schedule he never chose.
Where Enthusiast Advocacy Groups Try to Step In
National collector-car organizations, including groups like the SEMA-affiliated Hobby Protection efforts, have spent years lobbying state legislatures for clearer, more consistent storage protections specifically because disputes like this one keep recurring across different states and townships. Their argument generally centers on treating a private, non-commercial collection differently from an actual commercial salvage operation, even when the two can look identical from the road.
What Other Collectors Take Away From Stories Like This
Cases like Dauzet’s tend to circulate widely in collector circles not just out of sympathy, but as a practical warning: enthusiasts with large personal collections often use these stories as a prompt to check their own local zoning rules before a similar complaint or inspection catches them off guard. A collection built up gradually over decades can look very different to a new township official than it does to the person who has lived alongside it the whole time.
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awesome
Wish we could buy some, love old cars they are real cars.
Chuck Fasst
ok no page loads
I need a 1998 – 2003 Mercedes – Benz E 320 – 4matic Wagon and a 1990 – 1992 Lexus LS400 .
Village of Streamwood Il did this to me too
Is that Jeb Clampet?
This is Government getting too big beyond their duties
Sad 4 the cars the sun n the rain will destroy them in a couple of years !