JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
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We Are The Mods
Big_Al_Smith
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JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
THE HORNET’S TALE (or HOW I CAME TO HAVE A SUPER OLD CAR!)
Are you all sitting comfortably? If so, then I’ll begin. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…..well , Norwich to be precise, there lived a very nice lady called Barbara Everitt. On the 11th October 1968, Miss Everitt purchased herself a new car from Lanham Brothers: Motor and Electrical Engineers, also of Norwich.
The car in question was a mark 3 Wolseley Hornet in two-tone grey. Miss Everitt paid £685, 13 shillings and 11d for her brand new car. She specified certain extras on her order and these included Automatic seat belts, Antimist panel, Bosch reversing lamp, Front seat covers, Driver’s door weatherguard, Door buffers and Underseal. The total bill including number plates, delivery, 4 months road fund licence and five gallons of Shell petrol was £744, 17 shillings and 8d.
Miss Everitt kept the little car for a very long time and only drove 19,000 miles in it. But eventually, in early 1990, she parted with it and sold it to a car dealer in Essex. He bought the little Wolseley for his wife but, shock horror, she didn’t like it! Now the poor car dealer was in a quandary (look it up in the dictionary!). What was he to do with the little car? He thought long and hard and decided to send it on an ocean voyage (no, really!). He packed the little car onto a ferry and shipped it out to Guernsey in the Channel Islands. He had a friend there called Brian Priaulx who was also a car dealer and he said he’d sell the car on his forecourt. So, the little car was cleaned and had a price label stuck in it’s window and was put on sale on the dealer’s forecourt amongst all the modern cars. The little Wolseley was not happy. All these other cars were shiny and new and didn’t want to play with an “old banger!” “Woe is me”, thought the little car, “what shall become of me?”
My name is Alastair Smith, and in the autumn of 1989, my fiancée and I were trying to decide where to go on holiday the following year. After some thought, we decided to go to, yes you’ve guessed it, Guernsey in the Channel Islands. Now I know you’re trying to get ahead of me here, so I’ll be brief. On our holiday, we saw the little car for sale and bought it. There, you were right!
The Mark 3 Wolseley Hornet, instantly named (unimaginatively!) “Woolly” was promptly shipped back to England and given a new MOT here (they don’t have MOTs in the Channel Islands) and brought back to Bromley.
That night when all around it were sleeping, if anyone had been looking, they might have seen a small tear of joy fall from the little car’s headlight. “Somebody still loves me”, thought the little car. Or, it may just have been a drop of rain.
“Woolly” soldiered on for a couple of years, doing sterling service, and asking almost nothing in return. A gallon of petrol here, a drop of oil there. Then in 1992, drama!
Joanna, my then wife, and I decided it would be a good idea to do “The Italian Job” charity run to Italy. No problem until MOT time a couple of weeks before. The “C” word ………..Corrosion! Uh-oh, welding and new subframe needed. I took the car up to Crewe and my clever brother got his Mig out and welded up the rear subframe mounting panels while I stripped the old subframe and cleaned and bolted all the bits onto the new one. A few days later, job done and back down the M6. Lost a hubcap on the way but no time to worry about that now, we’ve got a ferry to catch! 2202 miles in ten days taking in France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Belgium and god only knows where else with no problems apart from one jubilee clip! Back to England victorious. We were happy and the Wolseley was proud of itself. It was in daily
service at this time and attending car shows at the weekend. It was a lucky little car to have such loving owners to look after it. But not all good things last forever.
Myself and my wife split. I kept the house, she kept the car. The little Wolseley sat ouside Joanna’s mum and dad’s house for the next two years, under a tree. MOT time came and went. The tax disc date passed into history and the little car grew tired and dirty. Rust began to rear it’s ugly head and the poor little car was sad again. This time the tears (rain?) were not happy ones. “Woolly” had never been so unhappy. Forlorn and forgotten, or so it seemed.
By 1997, Joanna and I were on speaking terms again. She had a new partner and I was now with a lady by the name of Desre. I had always told Jo that one day I’d have the Wolseley back off her. And it just so happened that Joanna and her new man had some financial difficulties. She offered me the Wolseley. I couldn’t afford it on my own but Desre and I counted out our pennies, and the deal was done.
So, one day in March 1997, “Woolly” was sat under the tree as usual, filthy dirty, covered in muck and leaves, when a familiar figure appears. “I know him”, thinks “Woolly”, and before the little car knows what’s happening it’s been towed off to the garage. Servicing, new wings and an A-post are what’s required to re-commission it and with a fresh MOT the Wolseley soon has it’s wheels rolling again under it’s own power. “Yippee!”
Nowadays, the little car is as happy as it’s ever been. It lives in a nice warm garage and doesn’t normally go out in the rain. It is resplendent in shiny new paint and has lots of friends to play with at classic car shows and Mini events. “Woolly” is also the founder member of The Elf/ Hornet Register, a club devoted solely to the Wolseley Hornet and Riley Elf.
It’s always nice to have a story with a happy ending, don’t you think.
THE END.
Are you all sitting comfortably? If so, then I’ll begin. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…..well , Norwich to be precise, there lived a very nice lady called Barbara Everitt. On the 11th October 1968, Miss Everitt purchased herself a new car from Lanham Brothers: Motor and Electrical Engineers, also of Norwich.
The car in question was a mark 3 Wolseley Hornet in two-tone grey. Miss Everitt paid £685, 13 shillings and 11d for her brand new car. She specified certain extras on her order and these included Automatic seat belts, Antimist panel, Bosch reversing lamp, Front seat covers, Driver’s door weatherguard, Door buffers and Underseal. The total bill including number plates, delivery, 4 months road fund licence and five gallons of Shell petrol was £744, 17 shillings and 8d.
Miss Everitt kept the little car for a very long time and only drove 19,000 miles in it. But eventually, in early 1990, she parted with it and sold it to a car dealer in Essex. He bought the little Wolseley for his wife but, shock horror, she didn’t like it! Now the poor car dealer was in a quandary (look it up in the dictionary!). What was he to do with the little car? He thought long and hard and decided to send it on an ocean voyage (no, really!). He packed the little car onto a ferry and shipped it out to Guernsey in the Channel Islands. He had a friend there called Brian Priaulx who was also a car dealer and he said he’d sell the car on his forecourt. So, the little car was cleaned and had a price label stuck in it’s window and was put on sale on the dealer’s forecourt amongst all the modern cars. The little Wolseley was not happy. All these other cars were shiny and new and didn’t want to play with an “old banger!” “Woe is me”, thought the little car, “what shall become of me?”
My name is Alastair Smith, and in the autumn of 1989, my fiancée and I were trying to decide where to go on holiday the following year. After some thought, we decided to go to, yes you’ve guessed it, Guernsey in the Channel Islands. Now I know you’re trying to get ahead of me here, so I’ll be brief. On our holiday, we saw the little car for sale and bought it. There, you were right!
The Mark 3 Wolseley Hornet, instantly named (unimaginatively!) “Woolly” was promptly shipped back to England and given a new MOT here (they don’t have MOTs in the Channel Islands) and brought back to Bromley.
That night when all around it were sleeping, if anyone had been looking, they might have seen a small tear of joy fall from the little car’s headlight. “Somebody still loves me”, thought the little car. Or, it may just have been a drop of rain.
“Woolly” soldiered on for a couple of years, doing sterling service, and asking almost nothing in return. A gallon of petrol here, a drop of oil there. Then in 1992, drama!
Joanna, my then wife, and I decided it would be a good idea to do “The Italian Job” charity run to Italy. No problem until MOT time a couple of weeks before. The “C” word ………..Corrosion! Uh-oh, welding and new subframe needed. I took the car up to Crewe and my clever brother got his Mig out and welded up the rear subframe mounting panels while I stripped the old subframe and cleaned and bolted all the bits onto the new one. A few days later, job done and back down the M6. Lost a hubcap on the way but no time to worry about that now, we’ve got a ferry to catch! 2202 miles in ten days taking in France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Belgium and god only knows where else with no problems apart from one jubilee clip! Back to England victorious. We were happy and the Wolseley was proud of itself. It was in daily
service at this time and attending car shows at the weekend. It was a lucky little car to have such loving owners to look after it. But not all good things last forever.
Myself and my wife split. I kept the house, she kept the car. The little Wolseley sat ouside Joanna’s mum and dad’s house for the next two years, under a tree. MOT time came and went. The tax disc date passed into history and the little car grew tired and dirty. Rust began to rear it’s ugly head and the poor little car was sad again. This time the tears (rain?) were not happy ones. “Woolly” had never been so unhappy. Forlorn and forgotten, or so it seemed.
By 1997, Joanna and I were on speaking terms again. She had a new partner and I was now with a lady by the name of Desre. I had always told Jo that one day I’d have the Wolseley back off her. And it just so happened that Joanna and her new man had some financial difficulties. She offered me the Wolseley. I couldn’t afford it on my own but Desre and I counted out our pennies, and the deal was done.
So, one day in March 1997, “Woolly” was sat under the tree as usual, filthy dirty, covered in muck and leaves, when a familiar figure appears. “I know him”, thinks “Woolly”, and before the little car knows what’s happening it’s been towed off to the garage. Servicing, new wings and an A-post are what’s required to re-commission it and with a fresh MOT the Wolseley soon has it’s wheels rolling again under it’s own power. “Yippee!”
Nowadays, the little car is as happy as it’s ever been. It lives in a nice warm garage and doesn’t normally go out in the rain. It is resplendent in shiny new paint and has lots of friends to play with at classic car shows and Mini events. “Woolly” is also the founder member of The Elf/ Hornet Register, a club devoted solely to the Wolseley Hornet and Riley Elf.
It’s always nice to have a story with a happy ending, don’t you think.
THE END.
Re: JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
Now thats an good story. And i now she goes like an rocket.
When i saw Woolie at molvern she was wear an bra for the grill were did you get that from. I think gizmo would like an Bra
When i saw Woolie at molvern she was wear an bra for the grill were did you get that from. I think gizmo would like an Bra
Re: JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
An interesting story Al with a happy ending
My story is already told in Mini world and my secret is also out in the open, I was really in the market for an MG TD but have you seen the price of a tatty one? Circa 5K ! Elfie has now got me firmly in her grips now and I'm quite happy to keep her despite her not having long sexy sweeping front wings like the MG!
I reckon more people approach me in the Elf than would if I had an MG. What do others think?
My story is already told in Mini world and my secret is also out in the open, I was really in the market for an MG TD but have you seen the price of a tatty one? Circa 5K ! Elfie has now got me firmly in her grips now and I'm quite happy to keep her despite her not having long sexy sweeping front wings like the MG!
I reckon more people approach me in the Elf than would if I had an MG. What do others think?
TONYELF- Admin
- Posts : 1743
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Re: JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
Great read Al.
Fantastic history must try to source my own.
keep up the fartherly touch ha ha
John
Fantastic history must try to source my own.
keep up the fartherly touch ha ha
John
mac- Posts : 102
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Join date : 2009-09-23
Location : Darlington
Re: JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
TONYELF wrote:An interesting story Al with a happy ending
My story is already told in Mini world and my secret is also out in the open, I was really in the market for an MG TD but have you seen the price of a tatty one? Circa 5K ! Elfie has now got me firmly in her grips now and I'm quite happy to keep her despite her not having long sexy sweeping front wings like the MG!
I reckon more people approach me in the Elf than would if I had an MG. What do others think?
what about an original 1930's wolseley hornet instead of the TD ! just ever so slightly cheaper
Re: JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
catmint wrote:TONYELF wrote:An interesting story Al with a happy ending
My story is already told in Mini world and my secret is also out in the open, I was really in the market for an MG TD but have you seen the price of a tatty one? Circa 5K ! Elfie has now got me firmly in her grips now and I'm quite happy to keep her despite her not having long sexy sweeping front wings like the MG!
I reckon more people approach me in the Elf than would if I had an MG. What do others think?
what about an original 1930's wolseley hornet instead of the TD ! just ever so slightly cheaper
speaking of which
ebay link
Re: JVG's story - for those that haven't already seen it!
Al... I love the story too!... Although I must admit, hearing it first hand over a pint of cider in "The Greyhound" was much better than reading it!
Jase
Jase
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