Found! The Porsche 356 Experience!

I arrived home filthy, that rainy Sunday night, tired and aching but satisfied that I had achieved freeing those two cabs from chicken coop hell! My brother had been putting this deal together for over three months, negotiating with "the weirdest person I have ever talked with" (according to Pete!) Off again on again. This price that price. Buy other cars with these as a package...the deal was never firm...until Friday, August 24th. "Be there Sunday at 1:00pm with the cash," the weird one says. I've never seen Pete so excited.
Pete, Archer & George in front of the "Coop" Chuck's Truck. Winching one of the cars. Pete & George figuring out how to extricate these cars. Pete, George & the Cabs. Jammed in!!
Our Sunday was planned. As Chuck and Scott in the two car carriers followed Pete, his son Archer, (Pete told him this was an experience he would never forget) and yours truly, deeper and deeper into the backwoods of Georgia. I felt like Charlie Marlow on his way to meet Kurtz, the savage, fanatical station master of Conrad's " Heart of Darkness". Pete's station master was Dave, the keeper of the cabs.
The front view of the jam. Surrounded by junk. Winching the 62 through the debris. The cars & other debris. Scott & the 59 in the field.
As we made the final turn onto a deserted dirt road, an overgrown, yesteryear chicken coup in the absolute middle of nowhere and the rusted hull of a 67 Chevelle were our greeters. How in the world had Pete ever found this place? I cut my way up the thorn covered hill and peered into the rancid dark barn. It was a junkman's paradise! Everything that could have been anything, including the kitchen sink, was rusting away here, sadly wearing its thick coat of Georgia red clay. Old motorcycle frames, canning jars, bits of Styrofoam water floats, florescent light bulbs, heating and air ducting, old bed frames, a derelict Jaguar Mark II, with several other car relics of the past, old engines, mounds of tires, half filled bottles of who knows what , deserted rats and birds nests, no longer returnable returnable coke bottles, calendars of years long past, mystery boxes with their mystery contents, old rags and tarps, all coming to rest in this deserted coop. This was the darkened trash of one man's life's accumulation of the worthless. And then... way in back, in the darkest corner, I saw them: the two 356's.
The 62 loaded on Chuck's truck. A pick up truck full
of 356 parts.		 Proud Pete & the cars back at his shop. The rear of the 59. Yes we have the decklid. The 59 Cab with its custom driving lights!

My brother yelled to immediately exit the coop as he didn't know what his Kurtz may do to me if he caught us in the coop before the deal was consummated, so I quickly exited only to see an old pickup charging up through the grossly overgrown field of nowhere. Kurtz jumped out as wild eyed as I imagined and as overgrown as his surroundings, but when he opened his mouth and spoke, feelings of home and my youth suddenly flooded me. This was no son of the South, but rather a fellow New Englander...the accent was unmistakable! Suddenly everything was okay. What the hell was Pete talking about? This guy was one of us! Bar Harbor, Cape Cod, the beach, lobster roast, and clam bakes dominated our conversation for the next half hour.

It was easy but hard from then. The cars themselves were impossibly difficult to extricate as they were tightly side by side without wheels and tires, one actually without a brake drum! Five hours; four filthy men and a boy; thank God for car carrier winches and the wheels and tires we brought; the 356's saw their first sunlight in over 25 years! The cash was transferred. The bills of sale signed.

Apparently these cars were going to be restored there in the barn. The remnants of a quickly erected paint booth were present along with boxes and boxes of carefully (25 years ago) sorted parts. The inspection stickers showed that the cars were at least roadworthy in 1971. The ride back was luckily uneventful, except for the surprised looks we filthy beings got at the local Arby's and the bath the cars took from their first rainstorm in over 25 years. Eight hours of hard work and now safely in Pete's shop, we were happy to review what we had freed.

Although both cars were rusty, they were quite complete and straight with all numbers matching. The 1959 "A" was the second from the last Cabriolet made in 1959 and was originally Meissen Blue. The 1962 "B" model had the optional oil pressure gauge and was light ivory. The missing rear script said "super 90".

These cars will both be for sale to someone who will lovingly restore them. Pete and I feel truly part of the process because after all, we freed them! If you are at all interested, call my brother, he would love to talk to you about them! Pete Hussey 770-427-2844 ext 15.