Issue 2, 2019

By Keith Daniel I met Dave the summer my family moved to the country. He lived a short walk or shorter bike ride down the road, and by the second day we were best friends. His dad had a fantastic garage and hustled a buck on the side by clearing out things people wanted to…

By Stephen England In the summer of 2006, George England took his last checkered flag. Mom’s car was mentioned prominently in his will: “The toss of a coin will determine which of my children shall take title to and become owner of my 1960 Triumph TR3A.” The toss landed tails, and after a lengthy estate…

By Mike Downs In my early teens I got a job at a foreign car parts store in Falls Church, Virginia. A couple years later I became a mechanic in a foreign car garage that was once a horse stable and still had a dirt floor. The attic above the tin plate ceiling was a…

By David Stuursma “All the good mechanics are disappearing. So I’ve raised my own.” Dick Luening said pointing to his sons. “Glen’s a hardcore mechanic, and Todd, my younger son, is an metal artist. Todd can weld a car together. I don’t have to look for rust-free MGBs. It’s unfortunate, but the true mechanics are…

By Graham Robson A twin-cam Le Mans engine, independent rear suspension for the Spitfire, modular body shells for the Herald, Spitfires which raced at Le Mans, front-wheel-drive for the Triumph 1300, fuel injection for the TR5, and an all-new overhead-cam engine for the Dolomite—all were innovations, and all were completed between 1956 and 1968, while…

By Charles Frick I met Andy Dunning in high school in 1970. We hit it off immediately, and we were both car obsessed. I was driving my folks’ Beetle to school and he was sporting an AMC Sportabout. We desperately needed something cool to drive. One afternoon he said he was going to look at…

By Warren Mann “Hey Jon, just a heads up… six months till the Invasion!” On a cold March morning, I fired off a text message to my cousin, reminding him it might be a good time to dive into one of his Healey projects so that he’d be ready for the long drive to Stowe,…

By Robert Goldman The ’roach is getting angry. There are few visceral experiences in a street legal little British car that surpass those of the Flaming Cockroach, when aroused. The problem is, or has been for a while now, the delivery of sufficient fuel. Being a high energy creature, he needs lots of it. I…