The whole thing started years ago. It was my best friends father's car. I lusted after it. I wanted it. It was cool.

My best friend blew its oil seal in 1980 on his way to the prom. His date thought he was faking the whole breakdown, but the engine was truly welded together. His dad took it to a guy who was an amateur mechanic, who was also a pilot in real life. A pilot, who did something illegal and went to jail, unfortunately while halfway through putting a rebuilt motor in my best friend's father's car. They towed it to the yard behind his office, and it sat. That was the fall of 1981.

I went to a party at my best friend's father's office on July 4th, 1992. Wandering outside, I spotted a lumpy tarp, which pulled back to reveal the sorry mutt. It hadn't run in 12 years. I told my best friend's father that I would tow it away and fix it up. He just laughed. Four days later he called me and told me to tow it away. I got it home, and then...what. I had no idea what I was doing. I took it apart. I had no money. It sat for the
next five years. One night last May, I went out to the garage, and sat in the thing. And sat. And sat. I made up my mind then, that if I didn't just DO it, it would never get done. It would just become one of those albatrosses around one's neck, the "project" that was just a big sad prop.

So I called Jeff Fellman at Perfect Motion to see what he might suggest. I ended up actually cobbling several cars together to build this. The original shell was too far gone to save. I found this one, which was not beyond my means. It's a 64sc that had seen some distinctly better days. It was well on its way to 356 heaven, in fact just weeks from the cutter's torch. But it wasn't rusty. Some creative thinking by the guys at Perfect Motion got the project off. They dug up a nicely rebuilt motor- Big bore, Webers, Bursch pipe. We made it a 12V. Lenny the crazy Swedish guy faired and painted it. They put the motor in. After that, I was on my own.

The shell, with a motor in it but little else, arrived at my house late on a sunday night. I started it. It ran. No seats, glass, lights, nothing--I put a milk crate in and bombed up and down my street. My wife thought I was
nuts. It was like Christmas. Here was a car I had owned for six years, and never heard run. I had sat in that damn thing so many nights, and dreamed of driving it--and here I was, driving it (sort of). So it began, my slow education of the finer points of 356 assembly.

It took about three months. But the day I screwed the license plate on, I drove it to work. And I have every day since. It goes out every day, unless the weather is really bad. It's funny, in this part of the country you don't see too many old cars (and no 356's) So people really dig it. It's fast. it's loud. I get lots of thumbs up, lights flashing, people have followed me into gas stations to ask about it. No one has ever asked me a question about my Isuzu Trooper (it's a good car, the Trooper, and I can't bear to strap a salty wet surfboard to the tub).

I owe special thanks to Jeff and Lenny at Perfect Motion, the guys at Autos International, and Robert Kann at GT Werks. And to all the experts on the 356Talk list who never hesitate to help.

Thanks everybody.
Keeping the faith,
Markham Cronin
cronin356@aol.com
64SC Coupe