Growing up in small Ohio town, Ferraris were something seen only on the pages of our precious Car and Driver magazines. In spite of the proximity of Detroit, I dreamed of owning one of these magnificent Italians someday. In 1967, when I went off to the Army, my plan was to save enough money so that when I got out in three years, I could realize my dream. Of the 857 cars created that year there were two models that I loved, the 330GT and the 275 GTB. I saw the 330GT as a direct visual descendent of all the wonderful cars that came before it, the 275 GTB a radically new but, never the less striking design.
Tradition deeply mattered, and to my eye, the 330 just looked more like a Ferrari. But, as a 20 year old second lieutenant, every dollar was scarce (we made about $400 a month). The 330GT then cost more than $1000 above the 275GTB, so I resigned my self to the "lesser model" the 275GTB. Well, my cost of living as a single Army officer was more than I imagined, and quickly even the 275 was beyond my financial reach. I settled for an MGB, and several transmissions and engines, causalities of the racing circuit. Given that most of us were soon to the war, the racing while inelegant, was with abandon, red lines irrelevant. Years passed after the Army with houses, children and the rest, but my love of these cars remained. In the fall of 1993 I visited a West Coast dealer with both a 330GT and a 275GTB on the floor. Then as now, I went first to the 330. Then and there I decided I would wait no more.
I began my search for the right car. My boyhood pal, Ned Lawler warned me enjoying a Ferrari is like cooking a great meal, its 90% shopping for the right ingredients, 10% preparation. Whenever availability of car coincided with an opening in my calendar enabling me to travel to see it (too infrequently, causing many good ones to sell without me) I went, seeing about two dozen cars, ruling each out for the right reasons. By 2002 I was getting frustrated. I overcame my embarrassment, and placed a wanted ad in the Ferrari Market Letter. About a month later a total stranger, Buddy Obara called and described a 330GT in Indianapolis which was about to go on the market, a car he had wanted but was out bid for several years earlier. Buddy said he too had looked for years, this was "the car, see it, and buy it". I thought what the heck, another wild goose chase, but Buddy he made quite an impression. I went, and even on first sight it I was taken. I did my own inspection of the car, taking about 2 hours, covering every inch on, in and under.