In 1938, Belgian Roger Van Caneghem was literally born amongst cars. His father had enough passion and mechanical know-how to be totally engulfed by cars, littering every nook and cranny of his house with cars and parts, and the tools and materials to work on them.
This passion became so dominant, the family house nearly collapsed as the ceiling started to come down from the weight of axles and engines upstairs. So after World War II, in 1948, nobody was surprised when Roger’s father set up his own garage repair shop. Roger learned the trade from a very young age, as he spent all his time in his dad’s garage.
Along with daily mechanical work, father and son grew very fond of Peugeots. They began collecting them. They snapped up several models, as the postwar years had left lots of abandoned cars for the taking. But even at that time, the price of Peugeots had increased so much that the Van Caneghems decided to also begin collecting other, more affordable cars. The cars were mainly sourced from France, where they didn’t fear armed farmers when hunting for cars.
The collection’s proprietor doesn’t mind when enthusiasts walk through and lean over the cars, because it means he doesn’t have to dust them off as often. PIETER RYCKAERT
By the ’60s, the car collection had grown so vast that they needed a new building. So the Van Caneghem family built a new repair shop in Oosterzele, near Ghent, attached to a hangar that housed their collection, which by now numbered about 75 cars.
The garage was named Saint Martinus (Saint Martin) after a French saint renowned for donating his coat to a homeless man. And it is in this garage and adjacent hangar that the collection still resides today, long after Roger’s father’s passing.
Like the coat of Saint Martinus, the hangar protects the previously homeless cars from the elements. Some are in working order, but most haven’t moved for decades. Predominantly Peugeots, brands such as Chenard & Walker, Renault, Austin, Imperia, Rolls Royce, Daimler, even Chevrolet and Buick can also be found. And the amount of parts and enamel signs on display is absolutely stunning.
What began after World War II as an auto repair shop with a small collection of Peugeots in an adjacent hanger has grown into an obsession that includes numerous vintage marques. PIETER RYCKAERT
Roger Van Caneghem doesn’t suffer fools lightly but welcomes anyone with even a little bit of automotive passion into his sanctuary. “As long as people come and snoop around the cars, I don’t have to take off all the cobwebs myself, you see,” Roger says.
This collection was never intended to be commercially lucrative, but at the age of 75, Roger has started selling off cars. His children don’t share his passion, and his hands and fingers have lost all feeling for nuts and bolts.
“Also, I’ve had some health problems lately, and once you get taken away in an ambulance, you start to look at life with different eyes,” he says. “I have expressed my wish to an undertaker that I’d like to be buried with all my cars. But he said that might be a tad bit difficult, so I’ll have a prayer with Saint Martinus to see if he can have a word with the Big Man upstairs.”
