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1972... my brother had got a rotted MGB, and it was just too fun. I found an
early Triumph Spitfire (biggest POS I ever owned... and I've owned hundreds
of cars). He and I would tool around town in IL, or race around the country
roads in WI at our cottage.
I was the only one home one day in the summer of '73 when the phone rang.
Some guy tells me my father told him to call his son if he was ever
interested in selling his car. Huh? I didn't know what he was talking about,
but I agreed to come over and look at it anyway.
He opens the garage to reveal a powder blue Healey 100-6. It was a BN (not
that I knew at the time). It had just the slightest of fender flares, Shelby
aluminum slotted mags, and a side exhaust that dumped out of 2 pipes near
the driver's door.
I remembered the big Healeys from reading the "Observer's Book of
Automobiles". It was just incredibly beautiful... and looked fast just
sitting still. I took it for a test ride... and was amazed at the torque. At
17, I'd only driven a few cars... my first a '48 Plymouth Club Coupe, the
POS Spitfire, and my Dad's station wagon. The Healey was a revelation. Point
it, tromp the pedal, and go. The exhaust note was almost V8 like, and the
fact that it resembled a Cobra was not lost on me. On the test rode, a
Porsche 914 with 2 guys pulled up along side of me. They revved it up a
little, indicating an interest in some street racing. I didn't even
downshift... just punched it, and the torquey 6 left them behind. OK,
decision made... I need to own this car.
I stopped at the Savings and Loan, withdrew $1200 of my college money, and
bought the car.
It turns out, my father had my brother in mind when he had said "call my son
if you want to sell it". Haha.... Don has never forgiven me for being the
one to catch the phone call.
33 years later, I still own the car.
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