I'm pretty sure I previously told the story of my two Spitfires, but here it
is again.
When I was 21 (it was a very good year) I came into a bit of money and set
out to buy my first new car. I knew what I wanted, growing up in Myrtle
Beach, SC, I had long admired the Spitfire as the perfect beach-town car.
Beautiful in the sun, top down on a warm southern night, and great for
attracting that special girl... and only two seats, so you had to leave her
crabby girlfriend or pesky kid brother behind.
It was early 1982, and the local British Leyland dealer had long since
exhausted his supply of Spits and moved on to Volkswagens and Datsuns, but he
thought that the dealership in Lumberton NC still had one or two.
There were two 1980s left on the lot. I walked right by the brown one and
took in the most beautiful car I had ever seen. She was pageant blue, with a
factory hard top and OD. The odometer read 600 miles. I was in love. Then
along came Laura, the proverbial "special girl." To make a long story short,
it was a love triangle that ended badly. Laura drove my spitfire over a short
cliff and into a tree. She was shook up. The car was totaled, and a few weeks
later, she walked out of my life too. I still have scars from both incidents.
Skip ahead 16 years. This spring, I began to have a recurrent dream, that I
would walk outside looking for my Spitfire, and she would be gone. I also
began to dream about driving the Spit, something I hadn't done in over a
decade. And so, the quest began. I was determined to find another Spitfire. I
looked for months, only to find cars that were ridiculously overpriced, in
horrible condition, or just plain too far away. Then, toward the end of
summer, I got a call from my stepdaughter telling me that she had seen an ad
for an '80 Spit in the Madison WI paper. I called the owner and met Rob. Rob
is a great guy, a columnist for a major newspaper. He'd had the car for ten
years, and in that time put all of 6,000 miles on it. The spedo read 34,000.
Rob knew nothing about Spitfires, despite owning one for a decade. He
referred to the Weber carburetor as "something to keep the engine cool" but
he absolutely loved the car. He wanted more than the vehicle was worth. No
OD, no hard top, a few rust holes on the underside of the fenders... and the
paint was oxidized from ten years of being kept uncovered outdoors. But he
had a good mechanic, and the car was pretty sound, save for a sagging rear
suspension. Rob told me he would not sell the car to someone who wouldn't
love it like he did. In fact, it was his wife's idea to sell. We struck a
deal, and I saw a tear in his eye as I drove it away.
Do you remember the unseasonably warm weather in the mid-west right up to mid
December? That was me, refusing to let summer go, because I didn't want to
put the top up.
I'm predicting an early spring as well.
--
"History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man."
conn@wctc.net
-R. A. Woodward
AKA "Conn"
AKA "Randwulf"
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