AN OLD MATE of mine, whose parents were Worcestershire farmers in a village just a few miles from where I live, tells a wonderful story from the early 1960s. Knowing him as I do, I’m absolutely certain it’s true.
‘My mother recounted something that happened when I was away from home at boarding school in 1960-64.
‘A red Ferrari came to a halt on the main Worcester to Hereford road at the bottom of the drive to my parents’ farmhouse in Leigh Sinton. The driver walked up to the farmhouse to enquire where the nearest garage might be.
‘He was met by my mother, who offered him a cup of tea whilst she contacted a Mr Cyril Dyson, the local garage owner. The fault was rectified and, before going on his way, the visitor left his card and invited my mother and father to visit him and his car factory at Modena in Italy at a time to suit themselves. It was Enzo Ferrari.
‘Not being a car enthusiast, my father
