After I finished graduate school, I acquired the Big Cat, only to learn that the Mustang was for sale. It wound up going to a guy in Cleveland circa 1996. And that, I thought, was the end of that.
Fast forward to 2001. I visited my parents one weekend in October, and my father mentioned in passing that "Mr. Robinson has his Mustang back." This was funny, because they had since moved to Missouri! So on Tuesday October 9 I sent Mr. Robinson the following note:
Hello Robinsons,To which he replied:
I was visiting Columbus last weekend and heard you had a good time in Montana. My parents certainly enjoyed seeing you.
I also heard a rumor that a particular Mustang convertible has returned to the Robinson stable. In particular, a 1965, red, 289, four-on-the-floor model. I'll mince no words: I want it.
If you ever want to sell it again, I'll pay any fair price for it. In fact, I'll escrow a deposit today if you like. Of course, I don't know where I'll store it (my Jaguar is in a garage in Colorado, and I don't know where I'd keep it here in Chicago), but that car was the one that got away, and now I learn it's not so far away after all. It won't escape again if I have anything to say in the matter!
Hello Karl...great to hear from you but we'll chat later...time is of the essence!
The Mustang is indeed, back here, but it belongs to the dealership, not to me. Interesting you should e-mail me...it goes to the auction tomorrow...I called my brother, read him your e-mail, and he is trying to pull it....
Let me know if you really want it posthaste Brother.
I called that night, we agreed on a price, Wednesday the 10th I bought a one way ticket to St. Louis, Friday the 12th I flew down, and Saturday the 13th I drove my new baby home. At last, across five years, three states, and four moves, the Mustang was mine!