| The first time I saw her, she was sitting in the back lot of a local Chevy
dealer here in N.J. I went into the dealership the next day to ask about her
and walked out with the phone number of Sam DeFeo, owner of the dealership and
the Porsche.
Apparently, Mr. DeFeo, the car’s original owner, had brought his
garage-kept beauty in to have the carburetors adjusted. However, without anyone around
who knew about 356’s, the car had spent two years being pushed in and out of
the garage until finally, she took up permanent residence in the back lot
where I spotted her. I called Mr. DeFeo at his Connecticut residence to inquire about the car
and was told she was, “not for sale.” Disappointed, I resigned myself to
driving (daily) by the dealership, occasionally stopping for an extended daydream
wherein she and I raced through the streets at top speed. A year later, I
decided to try my luck again. Still, “not for sale,” was the response, but I
wouldn't give up on her.
For the next five years, every time Belmar, N.J. had bad weather, Sam
DeFeo heard about it in Connecticut.
“Sam, we’re going to get a Nor’easter and she's still sitting outside.”
“Sam, it’s snowing down here and she's still sitting outside.”
“Sam, it’s raining cats and dogs and she’s still sitting outside.”
In the winter of 1999, during a snowstorm, I made what might have
been my 50th phone call to Mr. DeFeo. It went something like this:
 “After all these years of phone calls, I feel almost like I know you,
Dan. You’re like the goddamn Belmar weather report. What’s it gonna take to get
you to stop calling me?”
“Sell me the car Sam, so I can get her out of this weather.”
“O.K. kid, make me an offer.”
“If it was a VW, I’d offer you $500.”
“It’s a Porsche, Dan, and I’m the original owner..”
“O.K., $1000.”
“$1000, and you promise to stop bugging me?”
Twelve hours later, the check was in the mail and the keys were in my
hand. I shoveled her out of the snow, hitched her to my Land Cruiser, and took
her home. All four wheels were locked up and there was a sheet of ice so thick
on her sides that I couldn’t even get the driver-side door open, but she was
mine, finally.
New brakes and a motor had her quickly running like new. Then, six months
later, a guy in a pick-up truck backed into her nose which led to a two year
restoration. After that, she was running AND looking like new – good enough to
win a “Best Of Class” trophy in 2001- but sitting pretty for local car shows
was not Miss Betty’s forte, she wanted to race.
 My quest to turn her into a vintage race-car led me to the internet where
(of course) I found Gary Emory at Parts Obsolete and my meeting Gary is the
best thing that ever happened to Miss Betty. On a cross-country trip last
summer, I actually had the opportunity to visit Parts Obsolete out in Oregon and
check out the amazing Porsche compound there. Camping out under the stars, I
awoke every morning to the sound of, “Parts, this is Gary,” to my right and the
sound of 356 engines coming from the Emory Racing shop (owned by Gary’s son,
Rod Emory) to my left. Heaven on earth for an Outlaw lover! It’s amazing to see
the entire family and the several dedicated mechanics on site, all working
together to make their dreams and their customers' dreams come true every day.
Since meeting the Emory's and seeing first-hand how Outlaws are born, Miss
Betty has acquired a new look. For starters, the bumpers have been tossed
into the attic. Gary supplied me with everything from the basics to all of the “hard-to find” items. Also, I cranked the front adjusters and installed
adjustable trailing arms. To add to the Outlaw look, I gave her blue racing stripes,
the big “61” on both doors, and Mobil horses on both fenders.. Future plans include a roll cage, fuel cell and a bitchin’ motor.. After
chasing Miss Betty for so long, I’ve learned that good things take time – so I’ll keep working on her, every chance I get, until we make it to the
racetrack!
Dan Shotwell
Member #14535
1961, T5, 356b "Miss Betty", VIN # 116839
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