Issue 3, 2018

By Raymond Lacy In Sacramento, California, in 1959, my mother must have been having a momentous mid-life crisis due to the stresses of having to deal with me. She went out looking for a replacement for her ’49 Chevy sedan and spotted a little red sports car on a used car lot. Thus began my…

Story provided by your friends in the Moss Tech Department Recently, when my neighbor’s son, Steve, started his Classic British car, sometimes I’d hear a loud squeal from the motor. Lately it’s been getting worse. Either that, or he’s waking up earlier and my ears are more sensitive when it’s dark out. One Sunday morning…

By Scott Shnurman I’ve never written to a magazine before, but this exercise has been helpful. It’s been exactly four weeks since my best friend died. He just happened to be my Dad. Devastation is too weak a word to describe my feelings. I’m fortunate to have a car story to help pull me through…

“They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To.” This was the headline of a Moss advertisement from the late 1980s. The “camera-ready” artwork sat for decades in a dusty file cabinet—and it truly was artwork since within the ad was a drawing by Jamie Pfeiffer. Jamie worked as an illustrator at Moss Motors in the…

By Bob Melka In the spring of 1971, I was a young Naval Officer recently back from a year in Vietnam. Assigned as a counter-insurgency instructor in Coronado, California, I routinely met with a few friends for lunch at the Officers’ Club bar. Discussion one day turned to sports cars, and I recounted my long-standing…

By Eric Glomstad I began my ownership of British cars when I was 19 years old. The vehicle was a Jaguar XK150, which I drove through my first three years of college. Since then, I have owned six Jaguars, seven MGBs, two Midgets, one Sunbeam Alpine, two Triumph TR3s, and three Austins. Through all the…

By Graham Robson It was on arriving at MG’s headquarters in Abington, near Oxford, for the very first time (in the 1960s), that I suddenly had to decide exactly what sort of business I was visiting. Was I about to enter a manufacturing facility, or merely a cute, old-fashioned, assembly plant? In fact I think…

By Julius Aballera We were a part of the Second Great Migration. I was born in Arkansas in 1949 and when I began school my family moved to South Central Los Angeles. 10 years later we moved to Pismo Beach in Central California. When I wasn’t playing sports, I was running a paper route, pulling…