I graduated in 1967, and left Grad
School at the University of Georgia in 1969. At that time the
only car Marcia and I had was the 1966 Austin Healey Sprite
MkIII...and I do have
multiple photos of that, including one “serious” black and white
which dates from 1968 (see BRG and the Five Speed Brown
Bag). I got blown out of my
first full time job after only three months so my confidence level
wasn't all that high when I took a software services sales position
with the First National Bank of Miami, as talked about in that
article.
But by
1970 I was a full-fledged and respected software developer (things
happened as quickly in the business then as they do now, to the
incredulity of both my boys), and feeling pretty secure. I was also a
full-fledged sports car enthusiast, and we really needed a second
car.
While
the motorcycle was OK for commuting to work it was entirely possible
to be caught in some quick tropical shower or violent and
painful rainstorm...surprising how badly those big Florida raindrops can hurt. There were times I was gong to be late to work or getting home, as I was hiding
out under an overpass waiting for it to stop raining.
So
there was that practical aspect....which I at first attempted to fill
with that crap Datsun wagon. It was cute, and it was junk. No more of
THAT, thank you very much. I'll have something a bit more...exciting,
please.
I
wasn't really looking, not really. And I certainly would have had no
designs on a Porsche. At that time I might as well have wished for
one of the Saturn Vs heading to the moon. Even a 912 cost way too
much as a percentage of my $9500 annual salary.
And
then there was that article in Road and Track. And don't I wish I'd
hung onto it? They didn't exactly fall in love with the 914. They
sniffed at the lack of straight line performance, and the only thing
that really sticks in my mind was the nastiest car photograph I've
ever seen, an obviously biased attempt to present the car in the
ugliest light possible. I've alluded to it in the eariler post.
It was
a shot of only the front left quarter of the car. It was shot with
the camera propagandist kneeling so he was at eye level with the
fender. The retractable headlights were raised so it looked like a
frog someone had squeezed. It included the ugly “hockey puck”
afterthought side marker lights the company was forced to add only
for the US market (and since deleted in the refresh of my car, by the
way). It was atrocious.
I
didn't care. I was a photographer and I knew what they had done and
how that picture lied. Give me the right lighting and I can make
Beyonce look ugly. It had those seven magic letters in its name (and
on the engine deck lid), and it was going to sell for under $4000.
I
bought it from a brochure. The dealer didn't even have one in the
showroom I could look at, no less drive. I still have the brochure,
and it is the only period
shot of a 914 I have.
The brochure is a bit battered as it was taped to my cubicle wall at
work for three months. Oddly, the car pictured is white, and note
that it is a European model, as it lacks the hockey puck marker lights and has the European turn signal lights....just like my newly refreshed old friend.
Porsche was pretty proud of the new engine layout and the car...even with the hidden headlights open And yes, I kept this brochure for almost 50 years What's your point? |
The brochure sat on my wall because that's how long it took for my name to hit the
top of the waiting list. For those who think the car was not a
success, it became the best selling Porsche model between 1970 and
1976 when it went out of production, with over 120,000 built. And
that there was a waiting
list to
buy one ought to be some
sort of clue about its popularity.
The
Datsun became expendable...no, wait. It was already expendable as it
seemed intent on returning to the earth from which its constituent
materials originally were mined. I owed more on it than the trade in
De Maria Porsche in Coral Gables was willing to give me. It cost
me $199 to get rid of it. I would have been better off just funneling
it into one of those landfills which, in South Florida, are the
biggest “mountains” around...complete with scores of what should
be the state bird...the Turkey Vulture could easily replace the
Mockingbird.
Got
sidetracked there for a moment. I took a lot of ribbing about the
wait. No one, best I recall, commented about a lack of attractiveness
(the car's, not mine...that
these jokers were all too willng to comment about).
The
car I ordered was a deep blue, with a tan interior. While I don't
belong to the national Porsche Club (and until recently there was
more than a bit of snobbishness about admitting 914s anyway, but now
that they are going up in value and getting at least a bit of the
recognition I have always thought the car deserves, they are more
welcome)...but I have never seen one done like that. Tan interiors
are rare, and apparently blue was as well.
I
have two invoices for the car. The first seems to be a preliminary
estimate, while the second is the final one. They are dated a day
apart...July 8th
and 9th,
1970. The fact that the car simply survived
this long is deserving of respect.
Soo...along
about October, I would guess, I got a call from Tom Sherry, the
salesman. With a name like that and a car which has been a part of my
life for that long, of course I remember his name. Tom started by
saying:
“We
got three cars, and your're at the top of the waiting list.”
I
was excited, of course, and asked him to tell me about them.
“One
of them is white,” he offered.
Oh...kay,
that's interesting, as he had told me they were not receiving any
white cars. Why had he told me that? No idea or recollection.
“It
has the Appearance Group.” he said.
I
had not ordered this, one of the few options for the car. It
consisted of vinyl covering on the top and outsides of the built-in
crash bar, chrome trim around the back of it, chrome rather than
painted bumpers, and fog lights behind grills in the front bumpers.
About the only other factory options you had in these first cars were
tire choices (Michelin or Pirelli), slightly wider wheels with 165
instead of 155mm wide tires, and a Blaupunkt radio. I could afford
none of that. Sooo...
“One
of them is white,” he repeated...with the said Appearance Group
option.
“Tom,
what are you trying to tell me?”
“One
of them is white, “ he almost whispered, rather dejectedly. He
gamely offered to let me pass on the cars, but there was no guarantee
the one I ordered would be on the next boat load either, and I was
tired of waiting (it will be interesting to see how many of the folks
who plunked down a grand on the Tesla Model 3 will actually still be
there at the projected year out delivery date).
“Don't
tell me they all have radios, too,” I pleaded. As it turned out,
there was one which did not. It did, however, have Pirelli tires, and
I had him switch with the Michelins on one of the other two.
Now
all I needed to do was figure out where I was going to get another
$200. Put that aside for a moment and let me tell you why this car is
so special, other than those seven letters, which I suspect may have
been a larger factor in my lust back then than what I am about to
say, though I was not totally unaware of the following.
This
was 1970, remember. Think about it. Though a TR3 had 15 more
horsepower, it was a tractor. An MGB in stock form looked nice, but
was equally crude, though better handling than the Triumph. The MG might as well have
been steam powered. A Jaguar was priced, by then, in the same
stratosphere as the rest of the Porsche line. Alfas were lovely but
unthinkable. And not one of these had the whole combination of the
relatively exotic features of the 914. In fact, the only car which
came close was the Lamborghini Miura...at about $12,000...and without
the Targa feature!
Dig
it..
Mid
engine? Check
Five
Speed transaxle...the same one as the 911 Check
Four
wheel disc brakes Check
Removable
fiberglas top Check
Electronic
fuel injection Check
Top
stows in rear trunk with no loss of usable space Check
Two
trunks with real, practical space Check
Incredible,
“riding on rails” handling Check
So,
ok, it wasn't quick. But it was really not much slower than an MG,
and when you got to the next corner...goodbye MG! Besides, I have always driven it like the devil himself was chasing me, and when you do that, it takes someone who is very serious, and very good, to stay with you on any sort of curvy road.
And
that fuel injection? While I have learned lately, and the hard way,
that it is really “electro-mechanical” (some would say
“electro-maniacal”), it was a real revelation at the time. It was
first used in the VW Type 3 of 1968, and was the first mass market
EFI system in the world.
Not
bad for “under four grand...”though mine did not come in at the targeted $3600
but instead was $4078, and that was still $200 more than I had. But
my buddy David Rosenstein came through with a short term loan, and I
have no recollection of how or when I paid him back, though I do
recall that I did.
So
one day when I first got it some of the folks at work asked to see
it. I had parked it on the street rather than in the employee lot,
though I have no idea why I did that. It was on a shady street and I
think I even took the top off and put it in the trunk to show my
admirers how neatly that worked.
But
there's always a critic. One guy sniffed that it didn't look like a
Porsche and really was just a new version of the VW Karmann Ghia. He
had obviously been drinking from the same Kool Aid as the guys at
Road and Track.
Listen...the
car was never intended as a replacement for the Ghia, and in fact
that car remained in production through half the seven year run of
the 914. Counting Brazil, Ghia production ended only one year before
the 914s demise. And the 14 was badged in Europe as a VW-Porsche,
indicating quite clearly that both companies viewed it as something
apart from the Ghia and designed for a different constituency. Any
model of the 914, with any motor, will also run cicles around the
Ghia.
My
new 914 became, for many years, a ratty semi-derelict. But I never
sold it, and more than once mused about “restoring” it. When I
actually decided to try that I at first, along with my friend and
Porsche guru Llew Kinst, thought it might be too far gone. But after
closer examination it looked to be quite savable, and without major
fabricating of new and critical body and suspension parts.
Three
months and $7000 we thought.
Two
and a half years and about 18 grand later:
And,
as I am quite a bit more advanced in my knowledge and driving skills
now than I was in 1970, it is bringing me even more joy today.
So
why didn't
I
photograph it back then?
I
have no idea...