My attraction to the Jaguar was unexpected and looking back, I can see little reason for it.
When I first saw the 3.8 S-Type Saloon in early 1979, it was sitting on outside display at the local Jag Dealer. I was 29 years old driving a 1973 Datsun 610. My 1972 240Z had been totaled and I was no longer focused on cars but rather, on my career.
My attraction to the 3.8S was odd. I was not a particular fan of Jaguar nor was anyone in my family. My father, a reference standard that I use to this day, had been derisive of the Mark over the years and I had not ever noticed Jaguars beyond the E-Type.
Odd or not, it was a love formed so quickly as to conform to theia mania (“madness from the gods”). Mad because as a resident in training I had no business thinking about any major purchase, let alone a car. My decision to purchase the car took no careful deliberation. I confess that I didn’t even test drive the car. I simply had to have it.
My new Jaguar was intoxicating and I thought of little else. The first Saturday I was out bright and early detailing the car. I vacuumed, and waxed and polished everything and found to my surprise that the previous owner had left a few bits behind.
In addition to the extra tools in the boot, I found a coin under the seat wedged next to the seat rail. It was a 1965 Churchill Crown. This and my personal fascination with Churchill was the impetus for naming the car Winston. I could easily imagine Churchill himself driving an ‘S’.
There have been many outings and lots of loving attention paid to Winston over the years. My wife Wendy and I were married in 1981 and of course we were conveyed in style. Winston now has colleagues in the stable; a 2000 S-type and a 1960 Mark IX.
The IX is being reborn, but that’s another story.