It tells you something about Maserati that the company assembled what is, possibly, its best racing car — the Tipo 60/61 — after it pulled out of motor racing. Maserati Tipo 60/61 "Birdcage"It tells you more about Maserati when you learn that one of the seven sons of Rodolfo and Carolina Maserati was named Alfieri, but when he passed away just months after his birth in 1885, his name was passed on to the next-born son, who came into this world in 1887. (With seven sons to his credit, Rodolfo Maserati was  apparently a devotee of the song “Carolina in the Morning.”)

Maserati brotherhood

Five of those seven Maserati Tipo 60/61 “Birdcage”  became sort of the Marx brothers of motor racing, while Mario, who became a painter, kept his hand in the family business by designing the company’s legendary trident logo. Carlo, the oldest of the Maserati Read more . . .

You could say that the car was as cute as a bug’s ear, but its bug-eyes gave it the indelible icon that has stayed with us for nearly 50 years. Austin-Healey SpriteThe Austin-Healey Sprite wasn’t the first car that Donald Mitchell Healey built, nor was it the best, but, due to its appealingly affordable price and its so-cute-you-want-to-cuddle-it visage, the Sprite is the Healey car that has the most universal charm.

Indifferent spirit

Healey’s saga was already moving into its third act when the Sprite was presented in 1958. DMH, as he liked to be called, was born in 1898 in Perranporth, Cornwall, the son of a shopkeeper who finally became a land developer. Like Herbert Austin and Henry Royce  before him, the young Healey became enamored of tools, machinery and the most infant industry of the day, aviation. He left school to join Sopwith and within months, the outbreak of World War I encouraged Healey to enlist in the Royal Flying Corps.  Immediately, he shifted from mechanic to aviator, but his short flying career ended when he crashed in 1916. Mustered out of the service soon after, he returned home to Cornwall where he involved himself in two other fledgling industries: automobiles and radios. Read more . . .

A lot of water passed through the mill from the time the Dodge brothers assembled engines for Henry Ford until the Dodge Viper peeked out from under its wraps at the 1989 Detroit auto show. Dodge Viper RT/10Over the course of that era, the Dodge brothers split with Ford to begin building cars of their own under the imaginative Dodge Brothers name; Dodge Brothers was bought by Walter P. Chrysler as he built Chrysler Corporation in the image of his previous employer, General Motors; and Dodge (sans Brothers) went from an icon of performance during the halcyon years of the Sixties to becoming largely irrelevant by the late Eighties. Omnis and K-cars  will do that, no matter how proud one’s history.

Bringing Dodge model back to life

A quickly fading brand with a dreary image were what faced Chrysler Corporation planners as they considered what they should do for the ’89 Detroit show, and their response — a huge, brutal two-seat sports car — Read more . . .

One cannot speak of the Lotus Elan without looking into the colorful life of its inventor, Colin Chapman. Lotus ElanSuch was the man’s legend that when word first filtered out about his fatal heart attack, more than a few quickly guessed that he had engineered his own death to get out of a tight legal and financial spot in which he had found himself.

Knowing the maker

Some will tell you Chapman is still alive today, some 20 years after, relaxing on an idyllic island shore, paying for the beachcomber’s lifestyle with money wrenched from the DeLorean DMC-12 shambles. As with Elvis, Chapman’s light shone so brightly throughout his life that when he passed away, people figured it was somehow not possible. An indefatigable person like Chapman simply couldn’t be dead.   Read more . . .

There is a lovably oddball character to the British motor industry that is epitomized by Aston Martin. Aston Martin DB4While their American cousins quickly produced automobiles in mass manufacture, starting with Ransom E. Olds before the turn of the last century, the British seemed perfectly satisfied to approach car building as a cottage industry. Hammer out a few here, put together a few there, and perhaps build a little bit of earnings into the enterprise. This was the ourlin for many British car builders, from Morgan to Jaguar to MG to Triumph to Aston Martin.

Marking its name

The original Aston Martin partners,  Lionel Martin and Robert Bamford, completed the first car in 1914, didn’t register it with the British government until 1915 and didn’t assemble a second car until 1920. Bamford was an engineer and Martin was a driving enthusiast, and both men competed fairly triumphantly in hill climbs, including a famous event at Aston Clinton, which would ultimately give the marque half its name. After campaigning Singers, Bamford & Martin Ltd, as their leisurely automotive enterprise was called, decided to Read more . . .