‘MY FIRST MEMORY OF CARS IS BEING ON the rear shelf of my dad’s Ford V8 coming back from Goodwood,’ says Tiff Needell, the lilting, nasal tones as instantly recognisable now as they’ve always been. ‘I only went in it two or three times before the car died in the mid-’50s. I’ve no idea why he had it. In the garage at home we had this amazing Lancia, which got hit by a dump truck in Feltham gravel pits when Dad was there with his boat. We used to sit behind the wheel as kids, dreaming. Dad did the first two Members’ Meetings [at Goodwood], a couple of sprints. I think he had an Alvis. I have a results sheet somewhere – 1948, ’49. It’s all Dad’s fault: he was lured to Brooklands, then I was dragged off to Goodwood. It wasn’t a chore…
‘I don’t think Dad ever owned another car after the Ford, because Mum became the car owner – we had three Austin Rubys on the trot, which she bought for £10 a time, and then inherited my grandad’s Morris 1000, which I learnt to drive in. Then I bought my own Morris 1000 Traveller when I was 18, which then towed my racing car when I won it…’
We’re getting
