Well, for me it began at the ripe old age of 5. By fall 1958, my dad's
1950 Dodge Wayfarer had pretty much succumbed to the ravages of the
Northeast. Some car salesguy acquaintance of my folks drove to our house
with a funny little two-tone green car to show my dad. He liked it enough
to buy a near-duplicate: a blue over grey 1959 Triumph 10 Sedan.
At the time, my dad worked for a company called W. & L.E. Gurley, a
manufacturer of surveying and precision instruments. The little 10 Sedan,
by virtue of its fold-down rear seatback allowing access to the trunk,
became a "station wagon" several times for some deliveries he made of
something in long wooden cases. (My sister and I thought he must be
running guns -- it's great what a five-year-old's imagination can
contrive -- but it was nothing nearly so clandestine!)
By early 1964, the 10 was proclaimed to have a "cracked steering post" by
some mechanic (we never did find out what that was all about) and passing
NY state inspection apparently would have been too costly. So, new car
time again. We almost went back to Dodge for the new small Dart
convertible, but somehow got steered to Triumphs again. This time it
would be a convertible, but it still had to hold all four of us. So dad
bought a brand-new yellow Herald 1200 convertible.
>From there, a succession of Heralds, Spitfires, GT6s, TR3As, etc., etc.
There were (and still are) other brands of vehicles to supplement, but
there have been Triumphs in the family ever since (most of which are
still in my barn, just in case I ever hit the Lotto jackpot and can
afford restorations).
So for me, it's sort of a family tradition/curse. ;-)
Andy Mace
Herald/Vitesse Consultant, VTR
Hoag's Corners, NY, USA
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