Keepers of the Flame

“These cars make bridges, and you never know where they might lead.”

We all come to the Porsche community from somewhere. For many of us, a critical fork in the road can be traced to a particular car. Or, perhaps, a particular experience that is connected with a car. In my case, it was car magazines.

A decade before I could drive, a gift subscription to Car Craft magazine ignited my passion for American muscle cars. Shortly afterwards, through Car and Driver magazine, I discovered machines that cornered and braked, too. The ones that gripped me? Fast German sedans and sports cars. Opening the mailbox to find a new issue was a real event, as each promised hours of quiet enjoyment and stories found nowhere else. Those editors, writers, and photographers created something even more valuable, though: a sense of connection with people and places a world away from my childhood home of El Cerrito, a low-key suburb of San Francisco.

Little did I know that sports cars from Stuttgart-Zuffenhausen would forever alter my path, personally and professionally. It was my older brother’s Porsche 914 that ultimately captivated me. When my brother left the vehicle behind, broken, my parents said I could drive it so long as I could pay for repairs, insurance, and fuel.

Then, in my sophomore year, a guest lecturer spoke about dreams – prompting an odd thought: “Why not write about cars?” My first subject, for a story published in the May 1995 issue of Porsche magazine Excellence, was a certain 3.6-liter 914-6.

About a year later came a call from Sports Car International, informing me a summer internship was available. It turned out to be a great experience and one that led to a full-time job at sister title Excellence, which had published my first article a year before. 

What followed was a remarkable journey into the world of Porsche. Meeting so many figures I’d read about, and many more I hadn’t, at new-vehicle introductions. In-car instruction from some of the very best. Gently correcting the wagging tail of a 911 Turbo at 280 kmh on dirt. Attending a press launch for the Carrera GT at a former East German airbase before spending a week with a Carrera GT in California. Testing a prototype 918 Spyder on a sopping-wet Leipzig circuit, and the final product at high speeds on the Circuit Ricardo Tormo, west of Valencia, Spain. Supporting two Pikes Peak winners alongside solid teams formed out of long relationships. Each conversation, every drive contributed something along the way.

In 2016, we decided to do something crazy with a small team: start an independent print magazine that swam against the stream of ever-thinner titles. The rather hefty result, called 000, might be best described as an art criticism piece that happens to be about Porsche.

There’s no small paradox in being asked to write about community from a magazine editor’s perspective, as magazines are created much the way they’re enjoyed: in solitude. In a sense, though, I suspect that only deepens my connection with many who, like me, may not always have the time or ability to travel to car events. When we do, we pick right up as old friends do. And, when it comes to Porsche events, few are larger, more diverse, or more successful than Rennsport Reunion. At the first one at Laguna Seca in 2011, the gathering of race cars, racers, and fans took on a new dimension. Suddenly, a cast of characters I’d gotten to know in Germany over many years were there, together, in California. The feeling in the paddock – where fame and family collided – was positively electric.

There, too, is a message for the rest of us: with perseverance, a contrarian concept can eventually become the icon – at once modern and timeless. And so I remain a chronicler. A student. And, hopefully, a fellow keeper of the flame.