It’s January 14, 1967, it’s my 14th birthday, and the birthday gift
Cox Chaparral slot car kit is yet unopened. Mom and I are running
errands after school and we’re in the Allendale Pharmacy. Mom’s picking
up a prescription for one of my younger siblings and I’ve got a couple
of Birthday bucks burning a hole in my pocket.
Whoa, look at that, a car magazine with the picture of the new Chaparral 2E “Flipper” car on the cover. Gotta have that; crave all things Chaparral. So into my possession for all of 50 cents goes the January 1967 edition of Sports Car Graphic, and inside there’s a BONUS. Jerry Titus’ major test for that issue is a new (1966) Ferrari 330 GT 2+2 Series II. Much poring over and drooling later I promise myself that one day I’ll have one of those. Heck, someone’s been drawing pictures of Ferrari’s in the back of my Catechism notebook since he was 10.
Got home from work today and Babs tells me to sit down at the dining room table. She hands me a Johnnie Walker and soda and sits down, pushing a large box in my direction. This can’t be good, me thinks. Beside the Postal Service-abused box arrived from Mom that day lay the architect’s drawings for the new kitchen and the unsigned contractor’s documents. Babs calmly observes, off topic I thought, that I’ve been ogling Grosse Pointe neighbor Ken MacLean’s ’66 330 GTC (s/n 8939). From the box she pulls out the old marble notebook of Catechism notes and Ferrari drawings, points out the pictures and the attendant separate drawings, and being Springtime, Ken’s 330 GTC sitting across the street in his driveway awaiting an early evening spin he and I were to take. Next she pulls out that January ’67 Sports Car Graphic magazine with the Ferrari road test opened. I’m lost, where’s this conversation going.
Then the first shock, Babs has cancelled the kitchen. Huh, this was her pet project and she’s a gourmet chef! Gulp of adult beverage and then comes the second shock. And I quote her, “Anyone who has been drawing Ferrari’s since the 4th Grade, still loves them and wants one, and anyone who works so hard, well, they should have one. And by the way, find one with four seats for the whole family.” Very large gulp!
Dumbstruck comes to mind. So began the two month search in April
1988 for our first, and first four-seater, Ferrari. June 1988 finds
us driving the 1981 Mondial 8 (s/n 36213) downtown to the Formula 1 Detroit
Grand Prix. July 1988 and my employer informs us that we are being
transferred to London. The kitchen would never have been used!
You guessed it, we took that left-hooker Prancing Horse with us to “Merry-Old”
and enjoyed it tremendously in a car-nut country. But, we’re not
finished.
The girls are now teen-agers, actually, young women, and sitting around the kitchen table, with summertime fare of grilled burgers and dogs and beans, the conversation revolves around “girl stuff”. In a fog, I hear a comment about how they, the three women in my life, are tired of the Mondial. “So ‘80’s, Dad.” Smart aleck that he is, Dad responds with a comment about, “How well it’s served us for 13 years.”
Babs: (chiming in), “But didn’t you always want a classic Ferrari like
Ken’s?”
Numbskull Husband: “Yes, but, what about blah, blah, blah, …”
Babs: “Are you saying ‘No’, or are you not listening as usual? Just makes sure that it’s one that we can use regularly and not sit in the garage like the MG Midget that must have plants growing in it by now!” (another story)
Numbskull Husband: “Uh, O.K., are you sure?”
Picture three pairs of female eyes rolling into the backs of their heads!
Scouring the Ferrari Market Letter where we found the Mondial 8, lo
and behold, there, among others, is s/n 8325. Remember that 14 year
old’s promise? It’s Summer 2001 and great car buying weather.
A family trek from CT to nearby White Plains, NY ensues to visit Nick Soprano
at Motor Classic and Competition. There sits 8325, a jewel amongst
jewels.
Nick and I go for a test drive, do the obligatory once or twice over,
and agree to further discussions about inspection, etc. Never an
opinion withheld, Babs says, “You have to buy it. It’s gorgeous,
it runs great, it sounds better than the Mondial, (and here’s her clincher),
and it’s Blue and Gray.” You see, I’m a Hoya through and through,
and Georgetown’s colors are, you guessed it, Blue and Gray. Who am
I to argue?
The rest, as they say, is history.
Thanks to Babs, Katie, and Susie. Further to Mom, Dad, Ken MacLean
and all those others who helped plant the Ferrari seed.