I drove up to Shelsley in my Jaguar C-Type facsimile in June five years ago, to compete in the event which also celebrated 60 years of C-Types and 50 years of E-Types. It was a great weekend.
When I arrived on the Friday evening I went to the petrol station near the old Hundred House Hotel in Great Witley, and while I was putting fuel into the car a very elderly gent parked behind me, came to have a look at the car and told me that he had raced a C-Type when the cars were new. I asked him what his name was and he replied "Leslie Johnson". If I hadn't been very tired following a late night working on the car, and somewhat wind-blasted at the end of a 150-mile drive in the car on a busy Friday afternoon, I would have remembered that Leslie Johnson had died over 50 years earlier. As it was I was astonished, and asked the old gent if I might telephone him after the weekend to pick his brain about Clemente Biondetti, who I had been researching (Biondetti had shared a C-Type with Johnson at Le Mans in 1951). He said yes of course, and gave me his mobile phone number. Half way through supper that evening the penny dropped, and I was left wondering what all that was about.
I tried calling the number the following week, out of curiosity. A woman answered and then then hung up when I asked if I could speak to Leslie Johnson.
I mentioned this strange episode to Doug Nye shortly thereafter, who said that over the years he had come across one or two such fantasists - harmless people who believed their own fantasies.
There are those whose fantasies are anything but harmless. I'm not interested in hearing about them, but would be curious to know if any of you have experienced similar events?
Christopher W.