By Mike Eberlein
PEACHTREE CORNERS, Ga. | It was back when I was young and selling tools for Chicago Pneumatic and the wife and I had just purchased our first home for of $11,800. Our monthly mortgage was $69. This was 1966.
The party was to introduce friends to the new 427 Shelby Cobra in Dick Smith’s garage in Fresno, Calif. The car was silver with black upholstery and was stark with few if any attempts at body adornment. The wide aluminum fenders bent over Halibrand magnesium wheels and huge tires and the exhaust pipes, in black, were big enough to hold whole potatoes. When Dick started the car…the power could be felt, not simply heard.
We met the Smiths, Dick and his wife, Laura, at a Porsche Club meeting and shared our interest in auto racing. Dick began racing the 427 Shelby Cobra in racing events. The 427, with Dick at the wheel, won the National SCCA Runoffs at Daytona Beach, Fla., topping 198 MPH on the straight away. It was a memorable event for me, cementing my desire for such a car.
in 1968, I saw an advertisement for a 1965, 289 Cobra on sale for $3,500. It had a number of rock chips and scratches, but I thought it was beautiful. After taking it for a spin, I made an offer: “Take my rather raggedy newly acquired 1957 Porsche speedster with dings, dents, no top, etc…and $1,500 for the Cobra.” The seller accepted and my loan was for $79 per month. That was just $10 more per month than the house!
Why the wife was not as excited about the new car, I could not understand. A few problems had gone un-noticed: the insulation, floor mats, etc. had been removed for racing, making the car loud and hot! It became nearly impossible to drive in Fresno’s summer. The aluminum floor boards were directly above the exhaust pipes. It got so hot it would burn feet.
Lesson number two involved street racing. I could not simply drive the car without having at least one other driver choosing to race me on the streets of Fresno. I admit, I fell for the challenge a few times, with success. I mean, the car was fast!
Coming home from my wife’s softball tournament, the big crowd of observers all hit the two lane road at once. I tired of driving behind the string of slow cars and started driving very fast—passing individual cars, then two and three at a time. Soon I was passing lots of cars. This was the perhaps the biggest driving mistake I ever made. I should have known when the wife started shrieking “Stop…stop it now.” Our short talk at home convinced me that my marriage was more important than a Cobra. It went on the market the next day.
I’m not certain I cried when I sold the car but I was moved to tears when I learned the new owner had wrecked it the first night he owned it. That crash was an omen—the new owner, a young guy, still in his 20’s died in the car after running off the road and hitting a tree, near Oakhurst, Calif. Speed was blamed for the accident.
Today 289 Cobras have wildly appreciated and today are selling in the $600,000 to $1 million range. I have had many other cars, but I still remember that car and the thrill of jumping on the gas pedal. I still wish I would have kept that Cobra.
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