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.