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Worst 911S EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!

This one is a long long story, that involves slimy Canadian junk yard owners, agro US Border Patrol agents, lots of rust, and a tax free sandwich.
The article was printed in the S Registry mag a few months back.

There are two questions that I am often asked, concerning what I do for a living. They are:
1. What is it you do?
2. How do you find all the cars that you come up with?

Neither question has a quick and easy answer. But I try to explain to people that what I like most about what I do is finding long lost cars and getting them into the hands of people who will bring them back to their former glory, or at the very least harvest the parts so another Porsche can live. This is not all of what I do, but since it’s the best part, I most identify with the role of Porsche hunter. I go where the story takes me, to bring to light lost Porsches, so that they may rise again.


This is exactly the kind of faerie tale story that led me to 1970 911S VIN#9111310090. This poor car was probably wrecked in the 70s, and left to rot in a Canadian junkyard. The car was a great source for parts, or a very ambitious restoration. But once you saw that it had sport seats, Fuchs, and all the S specific stuff was intact, down to the oil cooler, this was a car that needed to be saved. It was probably a cool car in the early 70s; the Bahama yellow paintwork was very period.
The deal started out pretty regular. The seller had bought out the junkyard and was very surprised that I wanted to pay so much for the car, $3000. We agreed on the price and then his greed drove the stakes higher. We finally agreed on a price of $4600, and he had to bring the car to me on the US side of the border. I had never brought a car over the border before, but I had heard lots of horror stories. The seller assured me it was very easy, that he did it all the time. I said, ok, if it’s so easy to get a car over the border I will meet you in the US of A, and pay you for the car.
This is where the story gets a lot uglier. The seller told me to meet him at the border in the Duty Free parking lot, which is right before you cross over into Canada. We met on Memorial Day, so traffic over the border was very heavy. When the seller was close he told me to meet him right on the other side of the gateways. Here is where it gets a little scary. I do a U-turn out of the Duty Free area, and the next thing I know I am boxed in by Border Patrol police cars, ordering me out of my car. I quickly comply and am shepherded into the little Police Station. Most of the Border Patrol guys were pretty laid back, but one guy must have been waiting all day for some action. You could kind of tell he took the job a little too seriously. While most of the guys were wearing normal uniforms, polo shirts with embroidered badges. This one real serious guy looked like he was a SWAT team member, sporting a very different uniform with the combat vest and military pants, all the way down to his jack boots. He was sure he had caught a big fish trying to, in his words, “smuggle a car over the border”, since I didn’t have a customs broker. I was in serious trouble, he tells me, and he has me on tape buying things in the Duty Free area, another serious violation. He says he is going to search my truck, and he better not find anything. Up to this point I am being very quiet and cooperative, but even my patience was running thin. I ask him,
“ Am I still in the United States?”
He tells me, “Yes”
“According to my ID, I am a citizen of the US?” I ask through grated teeth.
He tells me, “Yes”
“Do you see a smuggled car on my trailer?” I ask.
“No” says the guard.
“So, how am I smuggling a car I don’t have?”

At this point I guess I was raising my voice because there was quite a crowd of police now, including the guy’s supervisor. He quickly gets to the bottom of my cross border crime spree and determines that since I don’t have the car and have not paid for the car, I have done nothing wrong. He is about to send me on my way. But the 1st policeman jumps in saying they still have me on the Duty Free violation, I am on camera going in and buying items. The supervisor is getting really bored now and asks me what I bought in the Duty Free area, I tell him I bought a sandwich, which I ate, but if you give me a couple of hours I can re-produce it. At this point he laughs, along with everyone but the SWAT looking guy, and I am quietly sent on my way.
I quickly high tail it out of there and stop at a Wal-Mart parking lot down the road. The Canadian seller calls me and says I need to meet him at the border. I tell him no way, he has to meet me at Wal-Mart.
To make a long story short, we go back and forth screaming at each other and he finally decides that yes I will take my toys and go home, and he meets me down the road. As it turns out, all of this trouble stems from his scheme to meet me in the Duty Free area, so I will have to pay the $150 duty to bring the car in. His greed got the best of him again. Although he agreed to bring me the car in the US, he had a plan to get out of the duty. But all he really did was cause me a lot of stress and he paid the duty anyway.
In the end I got what was probably the worst S ever. Nothing had been picked from the car, since it sat for so long, so it was complete. I harvested the sport seats and the Fuchs, and the car was sold to a racer in Miami who wanted all the S components, which is probably best. I guess this car could have been restored, but the cost and trouble would not be worth it, even for a matching #s S. The final irony of the car was only noticed once we got it back to the shop. The car had been Ziebart protected and rust proofed. I don’t think even the mighty Ziebart process could hold back Mother Nature when she comes in the form of 30 years of Canadian winter. Now that’s funny!

Look for more great Porsche 911 stories in the issues to come. For me, there is never a dull moment when the hunt is on.

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