Even if you’re suffering from barn-find fatigue, you’ve got to admit that cracking open the door to a cluttered garage to discover a forlorn Cisitalia 202 coupe covered in a thick layer of dust would be the stuff of heart-stopping fantasy. Not as famous as Ferrari’s offerings, the little coupes and roadsters from the Turin automaker are nevertheless among the most beautiful cars of their era; a Pininfarina-designed 202 was one of the vehicles shown at the Museum of Modern Art's groundbreaking "8 Automobiles" exhibition of 1951. A red GT with wire knock-offs was later added to MOMA’s permanent collection.

But this is not a Cisitalia 202 GT, even though that’s what we thought it was when we first saw the pictures. It’s not even Italian. Heck, it’s not even made of metal -- it's a fiberglass body on a 1953 MG frame.

The Swallow, still covered in decades of grime and detritus. Geoff Hacker

Regular readers can guess where this is headed: The car, an Allied Swallow coupe, is the latest acquisition of automotive historian Geoff Hacker (of Forgotten Fiberglass fame).

Allied is one of a vast number of fiberglass car (or at least car-kit) makers that sprang up in a booming, postwar America captivated by the potential of plastics. Unlike so many of its obscure contemporaries, Allied had some well-known talent behind it: Bill Burke, the lakebed racer who built the first bellytanker and speed equipment supplier Mickey Thompson. Roy Kinch, founder of fiberglass supplier Atlas, brought his composite expertise to the table.

The venture wasn’t exactly a runaway success. Cisitalia managed to build 170 202s between 1947 and 1952; Allied production figures aren’t precise (upstart fiberglass automakers were, surprisingly, even worse at keeping records than upstart Italian automakers) but it’s believed that something like 25 coupes and roadsters were constructed from 1952 to 1955.

A Cisitalia 202 (left) and an Allied Swallow at the 2010 Amelia Island Concours. Geoff Hacker

The bodies are, in fact, exact copies of the 202, the mold sneakily pulled from publisher Robert Petersen’s car while it was in George Barris’ shop for a paint job in ’52. Burke chose to borrow the lines of the Cisitalia not because it was attractive, but because it was aerodynamic: In 1953, Burke drove a gullwing-equipped Swallow to 167 mph on the Bonneville Salt Flats, fast enough to set a new record for closed sports cars.

The first known production fiberglass coupes, the Swallows were advertised in two wheelbases: 94-inch and 100-inch. They weren’t cheap, flimsy shells -- half-inch steel tubes ran throughout their structure, increasing strength and rigidity without adding too much weight.

Period ads for Swallows list coupe bodies at $685 and roadster bodies at $585; that included all window glass, plus headlights and taillights and a new grille. Molded-in brackets made mounting the body on a donor chassis straightforward; some ads claim that Allied would build you a custom chassis, but the MG T-series seems to have been a common starting point for a Swallow project.

Bill Burke's record-breaking Swallow was built for speed; the beauty was incidental. Note the gull-wing doors. Geoff Hacker

And what a difference a Swallow body would bring to the bones of that British sports car! Though the T is recognized as a classic today, its prewar roadster lines would have looked hopelessly dowdy in postwar California.

Engine options were widely varied and often wild: The stock MG inline-four was common, yes, but we know there were Swallows powered by a Mercury V8 sporting Ardun speed equipment, a Jaguar mill and -- our personal favorite -- a Duesenberg straight-eight chopped in half and fitted with a custom crankshaft.

The car shown here, built up by a certain Hal Thompson, is based on a 1953 MG TD. It retains the MG’s 1.3-liter inline-four, as well as much of the interior -- one notable exception being a cool kustom transparent plastic steering wheel.

The Swallow was listed for sale in the July 1957 issue of Road & Track. It wouldn't sell for 57 years. Geoff Hacker

It was eventually purchased by Anthony Spalvieri of Niles, Ohio, and after a time, listed for sale in the July 1957 issue of Road & Track. With an ask of $1,500, it didn’t sell, at least not right away -- Spalvieri’s garage is exactly where it stayed until Hacker bought it earlier this month. The asking price may have increased a bit in the meantime.

Getting the Swallow back on the road shouldn’t take much; it isn’t a basket case like the Ultra Modern Merc Hacker is currently restoring from the ground up. Hacker describes the car as having a “nice patina” with its silver exterior paint and MG-based interior intact. Stored on jack stands, the car’s tires still hold air.

In fact, all it really needs is good wash and a mechanical once-over. The thorough cleaning will have to come after the 2015 Boca Raton Concours, where it will be shown as a more or less dusty barn find. Its original builder, Hal Thompson, plans to attend.

Freed from an Ohio garage after decades, this Swallow is ready to hit the show circuit. Geoff Hacker

Pleasing looks aside, it’s somewhat tough to pin down exactly what makes this Swallow more significant than any of Hacker’s other vehicles. Yes, Allied’s production run, while limited, was large enough to make it more successful than the innumerable fiberglass car companies that built one or two cars before folding. This particular car does have an interesting history, but then, we’d argue that you could spin an intriguing yarn about nearly any car that’s survived for half a century.

By bringing cars like the Swallow into the public eye, however, Hacker is helping the enthusiast world rediscover the fiberglass-bodied sports cars of the postwar years. More than one particular feature or historical tidbit, the Swallow gave postwar American car guys the chance to enjoy Italian style and engaging performance without going broke.

Ready for a trip to Hacker's place in Florida, the Swallow is ready to hit the road for the first time in half a century. Geoff Hacker

And in that regard, its role hasn’t changed much after all these decades. Like everything svelte, vintage and Italian, Cisitalia 202 prices are going through the roof; they’re simply too valuable for most enthusiasts to use regularly or modify. Allied Swallows are not. Hacker estimates that unrestored, but more or less complete, cars can bring between $25,000 and $30,000; there’s not yet a record for semi-complete or fully restored cars.

If you can find one to restore, or a bare shell to build around, you won’t have to worry about ticking off purists. Want to install a hotter motor? There’s historical precedent for that (maybe don’t hack a Duesenberg engine to bits, though).

In fact, we’d venture that Mickey Thompson, Bill Burke and the men who first built their dream cars around bare fiberglass shells would have wanted you to do exactly that.

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