My 1974 Innocenti Mini Cooper not only unites three generations, it actually inspired the design of our brand new home. One of the first memories I have from childhood is as a four-year-old driving around with my dad in his 1975 Authi Mini Cooper. I can clearly remember the sound of the engine, the sunroof, and how special I felt turning the wheel of that little car. I can also clearly remember the day he sold it in 1981, after which my only connection with Minis were the stories that my dad would tell me.
During the 1980s and early ’90s, I filled my bedroom walls with magazine cutouts of Ferraris, Bugattis, Lamborghinis, Jaguars, Corvettesagainst motorcycles and still managed to conquer them. By then, though, I was 15 years of age and the last time I’d seen a classic Mini had been 10 years earlier. To me, the Mini felt like a ghost.
