While visiting an artist’s studio in Lancaster, South Carolina, I spotted on the wall in a corner what was obviously a European wood-rimmed steering wheel from the ’60s. “Forget about your artwork,” I said, “tell me where that wheel came from.”
He couldn’t remember the name of the car, but that it began with a “T.” It had a tube chassis and fiberglass body. He thought it may have been a kit car. The odd thing he said, though, was that it had two rear shocks on each side.
“TVR?” I asked him.
Bingo.
The artist hadn’t seen the car for about 20 years. When he last drove it, it had been overheating and experiencing electrical problems. He parked it in a garage for nine years, then gave it to his son and a friend to “fix up.” It went to the friend’s property in Lancaster, where it sat outside for the next 11 years.
The artist gave me the name of his son’s friend. I found a couple of numbers on the Internet. He answered the first number I called.
A sad scene, for sure. This TVR Vixen had languished in the outdoors for many years before Goldstean was able to negotiate its purchase. Surprisingly, with a new battery and some starter fluid, the engine fired to life! MITCH GOLDSTEIN
Goldstein restores cars mechanically but loves to leave their cosmetics as found, so he’s been making the scene at the local Cars & Coffee cruise-ins with his rolling barn-find. MITCH GOLDSTEIN
It was about a 45-minute drive from my house to their property. It seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere. I met him in the rain outside of what was his grandparent’s house. We walked around the side of the house, down a muddy slope and past some goat pens. As we walked toward it, all I could see was the top of the roof sticking up between a large rusty machine lathe and a pile of car parts. A dead flatbed truck blocked it from the front.
The 1968 Vixen sat on blocks, but I remember seeing the wheels at the art studio along with the steering wheel. The engine was covered with the hood from another car even though the hood that belonged with the TVR sat in the weeds a few feet away. The radiator lay under the car, and the headlight assemblies were in the engine compartment.
I returned within the week, mounted new tires, got the car on the ground, and hauled it home. If it wasn’t one of only 117 Series I Vixens made (VX199F), you would take one look at it and call it a parts car. It had been running when parked, but the engine was still free, so I dropped a battery in it and cranked it over. After a couple of minutes of cranking, the oil pressure came up.
My son sat in the car and cranked some more while I sprayed starting fluid in the frozen carb. It fired up! The floodgates opened. I rebuilt the hydraulics, brakes, fuel, and cooling systems.
But will I ever restore it? Right now, it’s tough to say. I’m still having too much fun driving it to tear it down for a lengthy restoration.
But talk to me in a couple of years—we’ll see if we can reach a deal!
