Jan 2010 Addition: Here is a great photo of Fred and his son Kurt with his F-18C taken at the 2009 Dayton International  Air Show. Fred's 1964 356 Euro SC is parked next to Kurt's F-18C, Super Hornet.  Lt. Commander Kurt Uhlmann (Son), Navy Aviator. as published in the '356 Registry' Jan/Feb 2010 edition.                       MY TRUE STORY.                                                                                                                                                                       The first time I saw a Porsche TYP 356 was in 1958. I was 18 years old. The car was a silver/black cab, parked in front of my parents DROGERIE store in Budingen, Germany. The 356 was parked between a German Ford and an Opel. The smooth lines of the 356 body where enhanced by the two "boxes" it was parked with. As you can tell, I never forgot this picture. I had seen the perfect car. I asked my parents who this car belonged to. The owner was the local FUERST, a distant relative to the former German, Austrian, Hungarian royalty families, and yes, he lived in and owned the local castle and had tons of money to spend. In 1960, at age 20, I had the opportunity to immigrate to the United States. I never looked back. After learning English and working several low paying jobs I hit the jackpot working for a food delivery company. I was single and the long hours I worked were rewarded with large incentive checks. On March 8, 1963 I walked in to Blanchard-Pray Automobile Corporation in Greenwich, CT, the local VW-PORSCHE dealer and purchased 211838, a Porsche, Model 356 1963 T-6 1600 S Coupe, ivory/red, which was displayed on the showroom floor. (See 1963 photo on left) My trade in was a 1961 Renault Dauphine. The Porsche dealer was located on the bottom of a long grade. When I picked the 356 up two days later, the clutch in the Dauphine barely made it to the top of the grade and I coasted down the other side to the Porsche dealer, drifting in to the only empty parking spot available.The engine had died on the way down the hill. I gave the salesman the keys to the Dauphine and he gave me the keys to my new 356. I was out of there in a hurry. I had a blast with this car. It was my daily driver, show off and date car. I never raced  or abused the car, no drag racing, etc. My cousin and I drove the 356 to Vermont in the winter to go skiing. We skied Killington, Pico Peak, Okemo and Bear Mountain in NY. At first we put the skies inside the car, but that was not the way to go. I visited the Porsche dealer to purchase a Leitz luggage/ski rack. The salesman tried to sell me a new 1964 SC. I was happy with what I was driving. I bought the luggage/ski rack with leather straps for $50. The steel edges on the skies marred the plastic, white cushions on the rack, but in 1963, who cared! Unfortunately, I was not aware of any 356 clubs. Life changed on January 19, 1964. I received the dreaded letter from 'Uncle Sam', ordering me to report to duty for two years. The odometer read 18500 miles. I had owned the 356 for about 10 months. The car was sold back to the Porsche dealer. When I asked the salesman, his name was Koenig, an obnoxious German, how much he would give me for the Leitz luggage/ski rack, he said NOTHING! I was already in uproar over loosing my freedom for the next two years, but his answer and tone really pissed me off. I borrowed a adjustable wrench from the dealer and removed the luggage rack right then and there and took it home. I hung the rack on a nail in the garage. The 356 dream had ended to be replaced by two years of Army nightmares. Fast forward to 1988, Dayton, Oh. On Wednesday, August 20, 1988 I was reading the Journal Herald, the local newspaper. The ad read:  FOR SALE: Porsche '64 356 C, solid body, coupe, off white ext, red int. 56000 miles, call ******. I was the first one there with a cashiers check in hand. 126779 was parked in an open parking lot of a retirement community. The car looked good from 20 feet away. After closer inspection, I felt like I was in a time warp. The last time I had seen a 356 was when I drove a brand new one. There was some rust here and there with a hole in the battery box, interior was original but showed it's age. It had a cheap, white repaint to hide what? I was assured by the owner that the car had never been wrecked. When I closed the engine lid I noticed the SC emblem. It was the same model the salesman tried to sell me when I purchased the luggage/ski rack back in 1963. I took the car for a spin. The owner stayed behind. The SC started right up. Blue smoke belched out of the exhaust pipes and thru a hole in the muffler. I must have burned and dumped a quart of oil before I got out of the parking lot. The brakes felt good, but the clutch was slipping, adding a hot metal odor to the blue, burned oil smell. The engine was running on 3 1/2 cylinders and had nothing to give when the gas pedal asked for a little more speed. No, I didn't run. The car was complete. Everything was there and working, except for the clock. The numbers matched. Chrome wheels looked good. Even had the original Porsche fan belt on the pulley and original spare tire. The price was right. I knew that the failing parts could be replaced or fixed. The deal was made. I got the car and he got the cashiers check. The now previous owner of the "SC" gave me several 356 spec books, manuals and also the phone number of the editor for the 'Bent Pylon', (Ohio Valley Region PCA Publication). Made it home ok, but had to work the clutch a little bit. I knew how to do that, the Dauphine experience was imbedded in my left foot. The garage filled with raw gasoline fumes, burned oil odor and hot clutch smell immediately. My wife walked in to the garage to take a look at the car. She began to cough, gag and wheeze. Lucky for me she was not able to speak. I asked her not to smoke in the garage. She didn't make eye contact with me for the rest of the day. Further inspection of the car revealed a European Heater System. The heat exchangers were covered by two inches of hardened oil and grease. After two hours of careful scraping the actual metal of the heat exchangers began to appear. The metal was perfect, no holes, no rust anywhere. The grease and oil had preserved the metal.    A European model, how did it get to Dayton, Ohio. I looked thru the books and literature that came with the car for any clues, nothing. The glove box contained the 'C' instruction manual, the Blaupunkt M/AM/FM Radio instruction and maintenance booklet. The radio maintenance folder gave up the first clue. The radio was installed by a Porsche dealer in Wiesbaden, Germany. The 'C' instruction manual had the second clue. The car's first owner was a Air Force Major stationed in Germany and transferred to Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Oh. He sold the car to a Dentist in Kettering, Oh. The Dentist retired and moved to Florida, never to be heard or seen again. He sold the car to "Huelsman" car dealership in Fairborn, Oh. The car was sitting in the used car lot for anybody to buy it. The previous owner saw the car and bought it. He always wanted a little sports car. He has a son, now living in Cincinnati, Oh and a daughter. She lives about one mile from my house. I gave the 'Bent Pylon' editor a call. A elderly, friendly sounding lady answered the phone. Yes, she was writing articles for the 'Bent Pylon'. She asked me to call back, she was in the middle of a game of Bridge. I was talking fast. I needed help with the smoking, oil dripping beast in my garage. Even the kids where questioning my judgment about buying this car. The dog was still on my side. The elderly sounding lady must have had a loosing hand. She got her phone book and gave me a phone number in Cincinnati. She knew that this guy was active in the 356 club.     356 club? News to me. I asked her if he was married. She said he was, last time she had heard. I dialed the phone number of the supposedly married 356 club guy in Cincinnati. The voice answering the phone said, 'Tom Oerther' here.. I was talking to a 356 Guru, but didn't know it at the time. We talked 356 stuff. He signed me up for the 356 Registry Magazine and mentioned the upcoming 356 East Coast Holiday in Indianapolis.. I told him about the gasoline fume, blue smoke belching, oil dripping beast I had sitting in my garage. I had to get it fixed and asked him if he knew anybody who worked on 356's. My wife was not in the mood to give up smoking. Tom mentioned a Dick Weiss regarding mechanical work and to give Dick a call. Tom was interested in seeing the car and was willing to drive to Dayton for a look. Sounded good, but is he really that interested to drive to Dayton to look at a 30 year old car? I called Dick Weiss immediately. He was glad to hear that another 356 had come out of the woodwork. He wanted to know numbers, VIN number, engine number, transmission number, date stamp on the wheels, mileage. Most important, he assured me he knew how to fix the belching beast and make it sing again. He was also interested in seeing the 3 1/2 cylinder car. I was flying high. I had talked to two long time 356 owners who were willing to help me and had been overcome by the 356 sickness long before I became infected. I cornered my wife and told her the good news. Help is on the way, I said. She looked at me. The first eye contact in three days. Progress! The oil dripping beast sat in the garage. The phone rang, Tom Oerther was calling. What's he going to sign me up for now! Tom said, Dick Weiss and I would like to see the car. I said, I don't think the car is going to make it to Cincinnati and back. I would have to attach a 55 gallon drum to the car, filled with 50 weight motor oil to keep the blue exhaust smoke going. "No", he said, "we're coming to your place". WOW! Dick Weiss and Tom Oerther were looking at the car from all angles. The numbers matched, including the chrome wheels, the car was straight, some rust was showing and the engine needed help. Flaws were pointed out and repairs that I could handle were suggested without criticisms. I was a newcomer to the club, but I sure didn't feel that way. I knew I was in the right club. The wife and kids were at the Mall, the dog was asleep. Dick Weiss, also known as "356 MD", ended up repairing the sick engine. The engine looked brand new when I got it back. It felt like I was driving my 1963 356, but with more power. All four cylinders where running according to factory specs, singing a familiar tune. The response to the gas pedal was immediate. The engine had plenty to give and did so without hesitation.  The No Smoking sign and the oil drip pans were removed from the garage. The gasoline odor had disappeared and the mileage increased by two miles per gallon automatically. I was buying oil by the quart now, instead of by the case. The smell in the garage had changed. It smelled like a 356 was parked there and I was no longer on the EPA hit list. 126779 was no longer called the oil dripping, blue smoke belching beast. The 'SC' was now a part of the family.   My wife began to like the car and the family united and helped with some of the maintenance. We have participated in almost all the East Coast Holidays since 1988 and some West Coast Holidays. We drove the car to Cape Cod, Vermont, Canada, Colorado, several times to Florida, California and several other states, but the leisure Sunday drives my wife and I enjoy the most. The odometer reads 368000 miles and still going strong. The rust was becoming more obvious and the battery box was getting weaker by the mile. I had to bite the ground up restoration bullet, soon.  Sunday, April 13, 2003. Two motor head friends and I arranged to meet for an early Sunday morning drive thru the country side. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. My wife had decided to stay home. I was in second gear, foot on the gas, rev's up, driving up a hill that had several S turns. My right rear wheel spun in very fine gravel that had washed on to the road during a heavy rain. The wheel lost traction and when it got back on solid black top it grabbed the road and slung me across both lanes head on in to the guard rail. The three point seat belt kept me in place and un injured. The car bounced off the guard rail and was pointing the way I had just come from. The engine was still running but the sheet metal damage was extensive. The car was brought home on a flatbed truck. I had totaled 126779. The insurance company, State Farm, settled well above of what I had expected. The check was in my hand within 10 days after the insurance adjuster had inspected the car.The State Police report blamed the accident on road hazard and no citation was issued. I purchased the car from the insurance company and set out to fix the injured family member. There was no damage to the front suspension, just heavy sheet metal damage, the hood was a total loss. I found a front clip in Indiana and the sorry sight was towed to PANELWERKS in Mentor, Ohio. Panelwerks did a fantastic job. All rust was removed, door posts and door sills were replaced. The tired looking original interior was removed.. New carpet was installed and the "Kunstleder" was upgraded to red leather.. Light Ivory paint brought the car back to the factory color combination, and yes, a new battery box.The engine, after sitting for 14 months, started right up. The car is back on the road, looking like new and running stronger than ever. I decided to show the car to the previous owners daughter, who lives about one mile from my house. I parked the car on the dead end street, right next to her front door. I rang the door bell. She answered the door, cell phone glued to her face, yelling at her former husband. She kept looking at me and was yelling in to the phone at the same time, until she turned and saw the car. She screamed even louder, dropped the phone and ran to the car. She could not believe how beautiful the car looked. She told me that her father taught her how to drive a stick shift with this car. I didn't have the heart to tell her how bad the clutch was when I bought the car from her father. She gave me her brothers phone number in Cincinnati. He had driven the car for about two years from Dayton to Columbus and back. He was attending Ohio State at the time and needed transportation. He drove the car in any kind of weather. When I mentioned that the number four cylinder had not been working 100%, he said that he was never able to get the car to go over 100 MPH and had wondered why it would not go any faster. He was glad to hear that the car was still on the road. My daughter lives in Crested Butte, Colorado and is a expert skier.. She was home for a few days. As I was installing the $50 Leitz luggage/ski rack on to the reborn 126779, she noticed the marred, white, plastic cushions on the rack. She looked at me and said "Thank's Dad, for teaching me how to ski".   356, Fred Uhlmann