MY TEEN YEARS were spent working as a gas attendant at my father’s service station. Performance Cars, the preeminent Porsche dealer, was located a short block away. During test drives, the sales representative would arrive to get five dollars of gas — enough to whet the appetite of a prospective buyer. The highlights of my work day were seeing various Porsche models pulling up to the pumps. Being the ‘80s, I was rewarded with a parade of 944s, 928s and the occasional 911. It was a red 1987 911 Carrera that captivated me — that was the day I became a Porschephile.
In 2018, I started the search for a 993. My wish list was year ‘97 or ‘98, Targa, less than 60,000 miles, a good history with no modifications, and preferably silver. Somewhat of a unicorn, but I had time on my side.
After a one-year search with disappointing results I found a car that seemed to meet my requirements. There was much back and forth on E-mails to make sure the car I found was exactly what I wanted. However, then there was a gap of a few days before I heard back from the owner.
“Hi Bruno, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you sooner. I am an emergency doctor and was on a long shift. At any rate, the car is a six-speed manual, it is all original except that I had the side markers changed from orange to clear for a cleaner look, I kept the original lenses. It has around 53,000 miles, I think. I’ll confirm tomorrow when I’m at my garage where it is stored. Sincerely, George.”
Ah! That was the reason George didn’t get back to me. He was busy saving lives.
The car was in Johnsonville, Tennessee. I arranged a pre-purchase inspection and George was more than accommodating to get the car there. The report came back, and all things checked out. George and I agreed on a price and I arranged to go see the car in person. I invited my brother to come along with me and we made a three-day trip of it. What a great trip it was. We flew into Charlotte, North Carolina, drove to Moorseville to visit some NASCAR builders, raced on a high-speed go-kart track and visited the Biltmore Estate. This was all before we met George to see the car! Upon seeing the car, I immediately knew it would be mine. It was absolutely beautiful. The car now sits in my garage and not only do I enjoy it for its pure beauty and engineering, but every time I look at it, it reminds me of the great memories that were created with my brother. That’s the beauty of this hobby — the cars are great but the experiences created are even better. </>
By Bruno Vendittelli.