The limited time we had together between planes was enriched by his sharing his passions. He took me for a couple of racing laps around Seattle International Raceway in his red Dino Ferrari, flew me to visit him in Japan, and got me a guest passage on a delivery EL AL flight with stop-overs in Europe on our way to experiencing the incomparable energy and history of Israel. On the way over, I got to sit in the co-pilot’s seat of the new 747 and switch on lights while cresting the top of the world. And after celebrating our last night in Tel Aviv dancing to a Welsh band until five in the morning, he managed to find me a bed to catch a nap in on the flip-down seats behind the pilot as we flew to London.
Whether piloting his Deutsche-Bonnet to yet another victory or restoring one of only five Abarth Zagatas ever built, his considerable skills earned him the respect of a multitude of like-minded car enthusiasts and drivers and made him friends all over the world. Dad lived a huge life with such enthusiasm and intensity he was a hard act to follow.
