By Dean Sprague
When I was about 14 years old I saw my first Jaguar XKE. I knew from that moment on someday I would own one. Since then I have owned 15 Jaguars but not all were E Types. This story is about my first Jaguar, a 1953 XK 120.
The story actually begins with my friend Randy’s Jaguar. My family had moved from Philadelphia to Miami. I was just finishing high school and going on to college in the fall. I was selling my Triumph TR2 and looking another British car. The MGTD was still in “family car” status even though I was the only one who ever drove it. Randy may have gotten the sports car bug from me and the only sure cure is to get one. He found this 1953 Jaguar XK120 sitting in a used car lot. It ran, sort of but the clutch was slipping badly. I cautioned him about the complexities and cost of Jaguar ownership and suggested he look for a nice MG or Triumph but he loved the lines of the XK120. What can I say, who doesn’t? We tried to drive it home but ended up towing it about half way. This “driver quality car” as the salesman described it quickly became a restoration project. We discovered the engine had a multitude of issues. It made funny noises while burning and leaking great quantities of oil. Of course the brakes were bad, the suspension parts tired, the radiator leaked and so on. On a high note the bones of the car were basically pretty good. The body aside from a dent or three had very little rust and most of the wood was in good shape. The wiring was functional and the instruments still worked. The top frame and side curtains were still there but the canvas was AWOL. The chrome was reasonably shinny and the windshield wasn’t scratched or broken. However, as we tore into it bagging and tagging parts, somewhere along the way Randy’s craving for a British sports car quickly waned. Of course my feelings were the antithesis of Randy’s.
I am sure you know where this went. It became a restoration unfinished until he decided to replace it with a hopped up Chevy Nova and I purchased the project in boxes and continued on. He was very happy to get a down payment for his Nova and I was thrilled to own my first Jaguar.
Fortunately, I had friends; one whose father owned a machine shop and another that ran a body shop. The learning curve was steep but they helped flatten it immensely. This restoration could never have happened without their help. I traded lots of labor for their expertise and efforts.
First we rebuilt the engine. It was was quite a challenge even with help from the machine shop. I had never played with anything as sophisticated as a Jaguar twin overhead cam 6-cylinder. I learned how to set up the valve clearances with spacers and a micrometer, how to dial in cam timing, adjust the chain tensioners etc. I fell in love with the technology of the engine and of course ultimately the entire car. When finished I had completed my first frame-on restoration. I found the original body color hiding under the front cockpit cowling so it went from faded light blue back to the original midnight blue and the interior was replaced in the original dark red leather. It was quite striking with a tan canvas top. It took every spare dollar and second I could find but when finished it was beautiful. I might be prejudiced but I never saw a better looking or running one. This car will remain on my “I should never have parted with it list” forever. So why did I sell it you ask, aside from the stupidity of youth?
I decided to take the Jag to the Florida Keys to meet my buddies for a diving weekend. I had to work late so I drove down early the next morning. I left before daybreak to get there in time for breakfast. The remnants of the cool night air still lingered and the sky was so clear the top had to go down. I remember it was a wonderful drive all alone on the Keys two-lane highway. I don’t think I passed 10 cars the entire way. That would never happen today. When I pulled into the parking lot at the diner an older gentleman (maybe 40) walked out to see the car. He looked at her for the longest time. I had gone inside to meet my friends and order breakfast when he came up to me and wanted to know everything about the restoration and then he came back over to our table a little later and said he wanted to buy my 120. Of course I said, “no she is really not for sale” then he made an offer. I rejected it and as we ate our breakfast he countered offered, I rejected again and so on. Eventually his last offer was comfortably above market. In fairness I told him that but he wanted my car anyway. He said he was looking for a mint XK120 exactly like mine. I thought he was “the fool” so I sold it to him. Shortly there after I developed seller’s remorse and still have it I think.
I admit my insanity has continued. So far I have owned over 200 specialty or sports cars most of them British. I should have kept several of them but as they say money talks and good intentions are usually (in my case always) lost.
I don’t remember what he paid for the car but I do remember it represented a nice profit. However, the money was soon forgotten but the fond memories of that Jaguar will always linger. If I only had it to do over, oh who am I kidding?
