Lyle Eyer is a retired independent financial software installer and creator on mainframe computers for companies throughout Europe and the U.S. Married to a delightful gal for 42 years, he has kids and grandkids that live and work in several different countries. He spends his time hiking and wandering between his homes in Half Moon Bay and San Francisco.

My car was built in the last year of production for the Austin Healey 3000, which I bought new in 1966. Several months later, as a bored single guy, I volunteered for the U.S. State Department's USAID program, providing humanitarian assistance during the Vietnam War. I stayed for almost three years and survived.

My government rank authorized the shipment of vehicles, so I had the Healey shipped to Saigon, uncertain if either of us would return. It was then under lease and not to be removed from the area, but I snuck it onto a cargo ship anyway. I drove it around the countryside to village sites, and didn't get shot at too often. The Healey and I were a novelty, zipping about Saigon and the area. We got the most attention when I'd drive out to the Ton Se Nut airport to pick up the big, tall Americans and stuff them into the tiny back seats.

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When I returned to the Bay Area I had the Healey shipped back, arriving a month behind me. I had planned on selling it for a ridiculously high amount on the Asian black market, but I couldn't stand the idea of parting with it. Shortly thereafter I was lucky enough to connect with and get married to my wife, Dianne. She put up with my previous best friend, the Healey, and let me zip about the countryside. She did insist, however, that I go to the Bondurant Racing School in Marin for five days. There I learned, among other things, how to do a 360. I was also a serious skier and continually wandered into various ski resorts in the Healey, tricky in serious snow country.

Stephen Finerty

The car lived with us in our second home in Carmel for years, gathering tons of "thumbs up" and big smiles. Over time, various parts needed to be updated or replaced. This was beautifully accomplished by John at Classic Coachworks in Monterey. One rather unusual repair I did about four years ago involved the dashboard. I found a young fellow in Morgan Hill who specialized in fine woodworking, having done an internship in Sweden. He was able to restore the dashboard's original soft walnut glow to perfection.

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I'm finally getting to the time in my life where my driving partnership is getting tough, and I should start looking for a proper partner for my old friend. I will probably cry when I do. In the mid-seventies, after I returned from Vietnam, an Alfa Romeo Spider followed me home. It didn't make sense to keep both cars, so I began looking for a good home for the Healey. I sold it to a mortician who owned airplanes, etc. and appeared to be a proper owner.

My wife came home as he drove off and found me standing in the street with tears in my eyes.

Stephen Finerty

About six months later we were in the Napa Valley, and I saw the Healey as we drove past his mortuary. I left a note on it saying that if he was ever going to sell it, I wanted it back. He called the next day and asked if I was serious. I had him fly down and pick me up so I could drive my old friend home.

It has never left my side since.

This article originally appeared at SFGate.com

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