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Lindsay Gillespie’s 1997 911

HAVING PROGRESSED FROM A 944 (a great car and the one that introduced me to Porsche) to a 1987 911 coupe (now I really was starting to understand) to a black 1988 911 cabriolet (an unbelievable car and no top!), I was a dedicated drinker of air-cooled Porsche Kool-Aid.

Then came the 1997 993. It was a 911 but better! Cooler looking, better suspension, air conditioning and heat that actually worked. I had to have one. The search began. I found a blue 1997 993 cabriolet in Quebec, made a few calls, bought a one-way ticket to Montreal, and drove home to Toronto later that day in the new addition to my garage.

Business was good so I was able to keep the 1988 cab as well. On the drive home along the 401 an alert OPP officer noticed that I had no licence plates on the car, which was not a problem as I had the correct paperwork and temp tag with me in the car. He asked me for my ownership so instinctively I reach in my wallet and produced a piece of paper with Porsche printed on it.

“Excuse me,” said the cop, “but this car is not black.”

“Oops,” said I, “wrong 911. Here is the paperwork for this one.”

Definitely a moment to savour.

Anyway, the black 1988 was sold to make room for a certain Italian sports car, a whole other story, but the blue 993 has stayed and probably always will. It is not my only Porsche right now, but fair to say it is my favourite and, of all my cars, the one I’ll probably never sell. </>

By Lindsay Gillespie.

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