On a recent morning walk leaving my neighborhood, I saw this dusty MGB being loaded on a car hauler in front of a house that had been recently sold. For several years I would see the older man who lived there take it out occasionally for a drive on sunny warm days like this beautiful fall day. Once as I walked by I stopped to admire his classy sports car. Alas, it was not for sale. The soft top was down and he went on his way wearing a jaunty driving cap that made him look somehow British. It was always kept in the garage and never parked in the driveway.
I stopped seeing him drive it or even his other car several years ago. Instead I would see a car belonging to a home health worker parked out front; the garage was always closed; I wondered about the MG. Time went by, the house was put on the market. I never knew if the man was moving away or had died. That morning I walked past the almost full car hauler and looked back. The MG was halfway into the street. I walked back. There was the old car, top down and covered in dust. It must have been sitting in the garage all these years. Were the new owners selling it? Did the man die and his heirs were selling it?
I interrupted the two men who were trying to load it, and asked where they were taking it.
“Indiana,” one replied.
I asked if I could take a photo. Given permission, I pulled my phone from my pocket and took a couple of photos as I tried not to get in their way. The inside was as dusty and neglected as the outside. The inspection sticker on the windshield was dated February 2011.
As I thanked the men, one asked me what kind of car it was.
“MG, an MGB. British. The company stopped making these sports cars in 1980. I would guess this one is a 1970s-something model. My husband had one in citron when we got married. It was fun to drive.”
Turning for one last look as I continued my walk, I hoped that it would find a good home and someone would restore it and take it out again on sunny, warm days with the top down.