Because I’ve written several barn-find books, I’m often asked to talk to groups about finding old cars. I usually discuss the same theme: talk to everyone you know about old cars; look behind houses and garages; and make friends with deliverymen, policemen, and landscapers, people who can legally enter private property.
I was asked to speak at the Carolina’s Region of the Sports Car Club of America at their annual awards banquet in Spartanburg, South Carolina. I gave my dog-and-pony show after dinner, answered a few questions, and went back to my seat.
When I got there, my friend and tablemate John Finger asked me, “What would be your ultimate barn-find?”
“Well,” I said to John, “it had always been a Cobra, but I found one of those. So my next ultimate barn-find would be a Cunningham. But that would be insane, because there are only twenty-five in the world.”
Constructor Briggs Cunningham wanted to win the 24 Hours of Le Mans in an American car with American drivers. But the organizers wouldn’t allow him to enter a car unless he was an automobile manufacturer, similar to Ferrari, Aston Martin, and Jaguar. So he reluctantly became a manufacturer of 20 coupes and 5 convertibles.
John pondered my choice for a moment. Then, he leaned in and whispered, “I know where a Cunningham is. A friend of mine owns it. It’s in Greenville, the next town over.”
For me, finding a Cunningham was like finding the Hope Diamond. I found this one in a Greenville, South Carolina, basement. It is the second C-3 built, and had spent 56 years in Greenville among four different owners. MARK COUGHLIN
I started sweating. Oh, my God, I thought. Can this be real?
Then the cynical part of my conscience took over. I thought that there is no way a real barn-find Cunningham could exist; with 25 in the world, they are all certainly owned by millionaire car collectors. It must be a mistake. It must be some kind of fiberglass kit car, probably with a Corvair engine.
Then John said, “I’ll bring you there next week.”
That week couldn’t come fast enough. On the prescribed day, I met John in front of a generic metal storage building in Greenville. We walked into the building, and son-of-a-bitch, there sat a genuine C-3 Cunningham, ridden hard and put away wet.
This is the same car when it was new. It is shown on display at the 1952 Concours D’Elegance, held in conjunction with that year’s Grand Prix. Finding the car was terrific; finding color photos is icing on the cake. BILL GILTZOW COLLECTION
I told the owner, Sam Henderson, “I need to buy that car.” Sam told me it wasn’t for sale, but that if he ever did decide to sell it, I would have first option.
It took several years of staying in touch with Sam, but one day he called and said he was ready to sell. With a trailer in tow, I drove from my home in Davidson, North Carolina, to Sam’s place in Greenville.
Which car was it? Were there any serial numbers? More importantly, could I even afford it?
Well, there was no serial number, but there was an engine number, and I could barely afford it. It wasn’t cheap, but acquiring dreams seldom are. But I knew I was the owner of one rare Cunningham.
It was #5207, the second Cunningham C-3 coupe built. It was built in West Palm Beach, Florida, and the body was installed at Vignale in Turin, Italy. It had a 331 cubic-inch Chrysler Hemi engine, and a three-speed Cadillac gearbox. Cunningham #5207 was used as the media car, the car used by journalists for magazine stories and road tests.
Dreams seldom come true, but lucky for me, I scored a real gem.