| It was a dark & stormy night in August
1956.
(Actually, it was a very clear & cool night). I was 22 years old & the proud owner (me & the finance company) of a 1951 JAGUAR. An XK120. Black with Marchal 3 bar headlights. I had looked at 6 or 7 models on various used car lots in the Twin Cities & settled on this one. My father didn't think much of it. "Not very practical in the winter". My mother thought it was cute. I thought it was the absolute last word in BRITISH FIRE POWER. The direct descendent of LIMEY racing heritage. I had read about the
1952 run of 100 mph for seven days & nights at the M0NTLHERY track
& was positive that THIS was the car for me. I was BORN for this car.
These were my thoughts as I sped through the cool night air on my way to Milwaukee. My buddy Denny was being discharged at FORT SHERIDAN, just north of Chicago, after two years in the army & a stint in Japan. I said I would pick him up, have a fun time in Chicago & then head home to Minneapolis. It also would give me a chance to get to know my two week old sports car better. I drove for 3 years & when the sun came up, I was still 80 miles from Milwaukee. (Remember, these were pre-freeway days & the super highways were the equivalent of highway 100 today). From Milwaukee to Chicago, I drove a race track called highway 41. I put my foot in it & at 85 mph was passed by a 1949 big, gray Cadillac. Well Hell..... This is what I've been waiting for. I put the pedal to the firewall & topped out at 123 M.P.H. the fastest I'd ever been in my young life I was in heaven, with the engine at full song. WHAT A CAR. It was good to see my "Long Lost Buddy. He told me he'd had a great
time in the army & that he wouldn't do it again for $10,000. Also,
he had heard that THE place to pick-up girls was at a big dance hall in
Lake Geneva. "All the Polish girls from Chicago went there." Before you
could say WILLIAM LYONS, we were off for Lake Geneva.
I hit the brakes & in the next half second......I contemplated taking to the grassy ditch, but I figured the windshield was not a very good roll-bar. Then I thought of aiming at the dead center of bossy, so as not to hit a glancing blow & causing the JAG to slew sideways & maybe roll. But again, figured we'd be decapitated by a set of teats. THEN, one of them started moving & I spied a small slot, we might be able to make it through. The slot wasn't wide enough & there was a terrific BANG, as we clipped Miss Guernsey in the head. We were a quarter mile down the road by the time we stopped, hearts pounding and starting to breath again. We sat there on the dark road in silence 'til we realized the engine was still running & we were still alive. We got out of the car to view the damage & I was fully expecting to see a horn hole through the sheet metal. The left front fender was bashed in. We pulled the jack out of the trunk & pried the dented fender off the tire & drove on to Lake Geneva at 20 mph. We never did go back & check to see of the cow had survived. (I hope she wasn't killed). I think we danced with some girls at the dance hall but the evening
was pretty much a blur, as we thought about how close we came to being
killed. The trip back to Minneapolis was uneventful. The U. S. ARMY called
for me in the spring of 1957 & I returned the XK120 to the finance
company. A dumb thing to do......but then...hindsight is always 20/20.
She was a beautiful car & I hope she's still on the road somewhere.
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