I posted my most interesting 911 story earlier, but since it was not my
current 911, I figured I would post how I found my 911sc. There is a thread on this buried deep in the pile somewhere too.
It was 2010-ish and I was driving from our family farm in Converse, IN to Kokomo, IN--a routine drive I have made my entire life with my grandparents. We passed by an old, tired, brick farmhouse and I just happened to catch a glimpse of an arrow blue 911sc in a small barn. I couldn't believe it and wanted to stop, but didn't want my head blown off for trespassing.
Months later, I drove by it again and it was now sitting outside behind the barn and someone was mowing the yard. So, I pulled in the driveway and started talking to the man. He wasn't friendly right off the bat and didn't like that I knew more than him about his own car. He suggested the car was a widebody, and it wasn't. He said it was a turbo, it wasn't.
Finally, I got around to asking if he would sell it. He threw a ridiculous number at me and I countered back with a reasonable price. He turned around and walked into the house without saying another word. I thanked him for his time as he entered his house and I left thinking,
what a grouch.
Over the next four years, I would routinely stop with my mother, or grandfather, who were originally from the area, trying to get the guy to lighten up. Every year, he would come down a little bit off the price and get a little nicer after he realized we had mutual friends. This also allowed me to look at the car more closely each visit, discovering the original interior was matching Arrow Blue, and it was a 78.
Finally, I threw a little higher number at him and he said, "Let me think about it." My mother left him with her contact information since I was going to be leaving town. About two months later, right in the middle of harvest, she got a call and he told me to come pick it up.
That evening, I showed up with the cash and a trailer. We did the transaction and I loaded up the car. On my way out, he came running out of the house yelling, "Don't leave!"
I instantly thought the guy was having seller's remorse, but he handed me a ziplock bag of receipts that ended up dating back to 1983 and photo of the car the day he bought it in 1990. Also, it showed the mileage to prove it was accurate.
I thanked him and said I would bring it by someday to take him for a ride after it was road-worthy once again. At that point, it was last registered in 98, but didn't get driven for a year before that due to the fuel pump going out and the starter frying from him trying to start it with a bad pump.
The car has come a little ways since I acquired it, but at least I saved it from further mother nature harm and have a fun project coming up.
