MG Memories: A Short Story

From Moss Motoring 1984

Submitted by Judy Rohlfing Tulsa, OK

A few months after I’d received my driver’s license, in 1965, my parents surprised me with a ’57 MGA. To a sixteen-year-old girl, this was perfect car in every way, from its wire wheels up to its convertible top. I wanted it painted canary yellow with a black interior, so paint it we did. I also added a luggage rack and chrome gearshift knob. My boyfriend, at the time, also had a 1958 MGA; one of our favorite occupations at that time was sneering at all the passing TRs, while we waved “hello” to all the other MGs. We were kept busy, as there were many of both on the road in those days.

In the early ’70s. I parked the MG in my parent’s backyard when I got a larger, safer car to use for travel. There it set on blocks, winter and summer, for twelve years. During those years, occasionally people would stop and try to buy the car to “take it off our hands.” But I always knew that someday we would get her running again, and last year, 1983, we did.

Getting any car running that has set for twelve years outside would be a challenge. And this one was no exception. One thing in our favor was that we already had a rebuilt engine in it with low mileage. But it needed a lot of work and parts replaced.

Just driving the car from my parents’ to our garage was a bit of a problem. The original black plastic steering wheel had disintegrated to a thin, flexible metal rim; it had to be wrapped firmly before we could steer with it. After taping the wheel and getting the engine sputtering along, we started out on our ten-mile trek, my husband driving the MG first, myself in another car and my Dad bringing up the rear, packing a hefty tool chest in case the car broke down. But we got it to our garage.

As would be expected, the car looked in sad shape. Rust had pitted the rocker panels, and all the small scratches and dents were rusting. The trunk’s interior was solid rust. But we plunged in anyway and sanded, applied rust remover, metal conditioner, body putty and, finally, gray primer. She was ready to paint. We painted the car its original aqua blue, which the British call “Glacier Blue”; I call it “Bahama Blue”, because the MG loves warm weather.

My MG is a pet, just like our small poodle. It isn’t meant for long trips, nor expressways, but just for fun away from the crowds.