*Sorry in advance that this is so long, but for me retelling this story has been worth it.
This is a story of buying a dream car, selling a dream car, and then buying said dream car back.
I bought my 1984 911 in 2012 while I was in Grad School at the University of Utah. I had told my wife that I would buy my dream car as a present to myself for finishing my Master's Degree. Well, the right car popped up at the wrong time, and I bought it anyway while I was still in school. I had the car for just over a year as I finished my degree. I drove it every day including through the Utah winter, and I loved every minute of it. When it came time to pay my student loans back reality hit, and I realized that I was not going to be able to make all of the payments I had obligated myself to. It was a sobering moment, and I knew what had to go. I sold the Porsche...
I immediately regretted it.
In fact, I text the guy I sold it to just a couple of weeks later, and the car had already changed hands to a friend of his who reportedly "loved it a lot, and planned to keep it long term." I was sunk. The car was gone and I knew that if I were to replace it in the future that particular car would not be the car for me.
Over the next two years my wife and I were fortunate to see career growth and job changes where new opportunities opened up. The Master's Degree was a worthwhile investment. We also bought a new house with a third car garage. The time was right to fill the space with a project car of some sort. The Porsche 911 market had gone nuts in the time between selling my car in 2013 and 2015, so I had no intentions of actually being able to afford to relive my dream of an air-cooled 911 to tinker on, but like many of us, I would check the classifieds in a number of websites nearly every day.
Then it happened...my car popped up for sale locally.
The next morning I immediately called the auction house that had MY car listed for sale, and they told me that the car was already sold and they couldn't release the selling price or the buyers information. Lost again, I was disappointed that I was so close and yet so far away.
Then it happened again!
MY car showed up on the Pelican Parts BBS for sale in Grand Rapids, Michigan at GR Auto Gallery. Again, I nervously called the next morning after seeing it posted, and I was greeted by Jeff, a friendly salesman who told me that a contact had been made on the car from an interested overseas buyer. I was not going to lose the car again, so I made a full price offer on the phone right then (not actually knowing if the bank would finance me...). The offer was accepted, retainer money was paypal'd, and I was a nervous happy man. (Let the record show that during all of this my extremely supportive wife was cheering me on hoping that I could get the car back).
Three weeks later, and the car arrived (arrived yesterday 8-9-2015). I recognized every bump, bruise, and character building rock chip almost as if no time had passed. Excitement and anxiety flowed through me as the car was readied to be driven off the transport truck. The key went in the ignition, and as it turned we heard the familiar clunk of a dead battery, absent of the roar that I knew this particular flat six air-cooled 3.2l should sound like. The truck driver and myself were able to improvise by using two ratchet straps to pull the car backwards up the hump of the car carrier far enough that I could gingerly wheel it off backwards.
The car had arrived back home.
We tried twice to push start the car, but couldn't get it going fast enough to make any sort of real attempt. My wife and I left the Porsche, and I called my brother to see if he would help me with a tow. We got back to the car with a tow strap and my brother's industrial jumper cables. We tried for 20 minutes to jump the car with no luck. At that point I began pulling the relays, wiping them down, and talking really sweet to the car in hopes that it would come to life. As if it heard my requests, one by one the car's systems clicked to life. First it was the fuel pump, then the engine turned over once, and then it fired. The car roared to life. I drove it home under its own power, parked it in its new home, and spent the next few hours of the evening pouring over it to see what had been done, and what there is to do. The laundry list of "to-dos" is long, and I am more than happy to know that the car will finally be mine long-term, and I can finish what I started with it three years ago.
