Tell us about the history of your ’67 Beetle?
I grew up with a beetle. Mom had a ’68 savannah beige auto stick she bought brand new. I was born in ’73 so my earliest memories include that VW. We moved to Florida in 1988 and left the VW behind. 20 years of Wisconsin winters and road salt had taken its toll. No matter what, vintage cars remained in my blood.
The story of my beetle starts in Sarasota, FL. In the spring of 1990. I was 16 and just got my driver license about a month before. I was working in the front yard when I heard this god awful racket of a car ripping down the street. It was white with a patina of reddish surface rust, red late-model doors, no bumpers, and a loud, aftermarket exhaust. I could tell it was a ’67 from front fenders. About two minutes later it flew down the street again. All I could think was “COOL!”
An hour later I was walking around the block and saw this beetle sitting in the front yard of a house. It had a FOR SALE sign in the window. I stopped and talked to the owner. His name was Herb Burgart. I ended up working out a deal to buy the car. A few weeks later she was mine! Herb had to drive the car to my house because I couldn’t drive stick.
Fast FWD. One day on my way home the beetle started to spit and sputter. I looked in the rear view mirror only to see flames. I grabbed a fire extinguisher and quickly handled the situation. As it turned out, the pressed fitting on my fuel pump fell out. The fuel filter was actually still intact, just melted a little. All in all, no real damage. Whew!