That reminds me of yet another Spitfire Story-
Years ago when I had my first spit-Arthur- in Italy, I was stopped, waiting
to make a left hand turn, in first with my foot on the brake when I was rear
ended by a drunk in a BIG Alfa. Arthur and I were pushed up over the island
and across the street. I thougth my little spit was done for and went
running after the drunk -he started to drive away-screaming (in english and
italian) "You bastard!!!! Get back here you..."(I think you all follow the
general idea.) Luckily, there were the road cops across the street who
witnessed everything. (This was 3 in the afternoon) and got the guy. When I
saw the fron of his Alfa I was sure I no longer had a rear end on Arthur-it
was gone. More like disintegrated. Motor wouldn't turn over. I turned around
and looked at my spitty-and cried. All he had was a broken tail lens
cover!!! ANd started up right away!!! All I could think was God bless
Uni-Body and British Leyland!
I must say, I feel safer in my Spitfire than I did in the Nissan Sentra!
The End.
Laura G. and Nigel
-----Original Message-----
From: SJagGo@aol.com <SJagGo@aol.com>
To: SpitfireKP@aol.com <SpitfireKP@aol.com>; Spitfires@Autox.Team.Net
<Spitfires@Autox.Team.Net>
Date: Saturday, January 02, 1999 12:07 AM
Subject: Re: My Spitfire Story
>Greetings All,
>While I'm saving most of my Spitfire and car stories for a writing career
when
>I pull back from my photography career, I do need to address the wives,
>mothers, and others who are wary of Spitfire safety.
>
>My parents always cautioned about convertibles, small cars, and powerful
cars.
>MY WIFE STILL DOES! 18 years ago I was driving a Buick LeSabre. I was
dating
>a recent college graduate a few years my junior who proceeded to tell me on
>New Year's Eve that life with me would be boring. Well, a guy can take a
>hint. Even though I wasn't crushed by her appraisal, appropriate action
>needed to be taken. January 1, 1981 I began my search. It had to be a
>convertible and something sporty.
>Jaguars had always been my favorites, but a nice roadster was $10,000 and
I
>was making payments on my boring house and boring business. The ad
appeared
>for my little Spit. I borrowed $1000 from my parents and $700 from one of
my
>boring friends and the 73 Pimento Spit was mine. Though not as soft, the
>curves on the spit took my mind off the other curves.
>
>It had 60,000 miles on the ticker and needed a general rebuilding. My goal
>was to have it ready for a cross country trip to Seattle by September 1982.
>On 9/12/82 I left Springfield, Illinois at 9PM and returned home 2 weeks
and
>7100 miles later, including a nonstop from Lava Hot Springs, Idaho to
>Springfield, exactly 1500 miles.
>Boring, boring, boring(!) A week later I drove it to 2 World Series games
in
>St. Louis and parked in on the landing under the Gateway arch with 2 wheels
in
>the Mississippi each night. Yes, boredom had truly set in.
>
>So boring was 1982 I decided to forego female companionship for New Year's
Eve
>and drive to Pere Marquette State Park, 90 miles south, and photograph the
>last sunset of a truly wonderful year. Pere Marquette hangs out over the
>Mississippi River on bluffs held sacred by native and current Americans.
You
>look directly west into the largest winter sunset of the year, and yes,
quite
>often a bald eagle or magnificent osprey will punctuate the sky. Sunsets
are
>early in December, affording me ample time to return to Springfield to sing
in
>the boring church choir. We always have a special New Year's Eve service
>where the steeple bell is tolled as the name of each departed soul is read.
>
>I was traveling north about 80mph on US 67 toward Jacksonville as I passed
a
>weaving "pididle" car (one headlight out). You want to stay away from
drunk
>drivers, especially on New Year's Eve. After a few minutes I came upon a
>white camaro waiting to make a left hand turn across traffic on this 2-lane
>highway. Traffic must have been letting out from some event in the next
town,
>as a steady stream of vehicle kept the camero from turning. The shoulder
>looked pretty rough and potholed, so I waited. In my rear view mirror I
saw
>the pididle coming. I honked at the camaro to move, but the only response
was
>a single digit salute. The pididle kept coming and coming and not slowing
>down.
>
>I can still hear the crash and the screams 17 years later as my wonderful
>little Spitfire with the 12 ft turning radius pulled around the camaro.
Yes,
>I was without a scratch. The camaro's trunk was in the back seat along
with
>the passengers. I radioed for help on my CB (you didn't think I crossed
the
>country solo in a Triumph without some security, did you?) The four
occupants
>of the camaro had multiple injuries, but nothing life threatening, as they
had
>started to move before they were hit.
>My Boy Scout first aid was finally put to use. The drunks in the pididle
were
>laughing even though their faces were bloody from hitting the windshield.
>They were to drunk to care. I helped stop their bleeding and convinced the
>two males from the camero not to stop the drunks laughing--and breathing.
It
>was less than 5 minutes before State Police, County Police, and ambulances
>arrived on the scene. Handcuffs stopped the drunks laughing. It took
longer
>than I expected to give my account of the accident to the authorities. I
was
>late for church. I arrived as the last name was read and the last bell
>tolled. Because of God's will and Almighty Power, and the turning radius
of
>my little Spitfire, the bell did not toll for me.
>
>17 years later it still hasn't tolled and I have several other stories of
the
>Spitfire's manuverabilities and God's will. Suffice it to say, every car
has
>it's weak points and strong points. Drive defensively, keep you eyes open,
>and enjoy God's blessings.
>
>Bill Brockschmidt
>Springfield, IL
>2 1973 Spitfires
>1 1977 Spit
>1965 Jaguar S-type
>1973 455 Buick Centurion Convertible
>1998 Buick Park Avenue
>1994 Plymouth GrandVoyager
>1948 Radio Flyer
>
>
>
>
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