Award Winning 356

History

As of Feb 1, 2019, Steve Hoffman acquired 356 Unlimited from Buster Venable. Steve has been a long-time friend of Buster and owned an award winning 356 C Coupe restored by 356 Unlimited several years ago. Buster will remain with the shop for the remainder of 2019 and although he is retiring from the restoration business, Buster is building an airplane in another shop in the same complex as 356 Unlimited, so he is not far away.

Steve retired from the Boeing company where he worked for 35 years at Kennedy Space Center as an Aerospace Engineer/Project Manager, working on the Space Shuttle, Space Station, the X-37 and most recently as the project manager for the first Boeing Starliner spacecraft.

ISS Project led by Steve

Steve’s passion for Porsche began in 1984, while going to college at Florida Tech where he acquired a 1973 914 2.0. He has been a Porsche fanatic ever since. At last count he has owned over 25 different Porsches, with ten still in the stable, including a one owner mostly original 75K documented mile 1965 C Coupe. Steve is the current National Tech Chair for the Porsche Club of America (PCA), was a Past-President of the local Space Coast Region of the PCA, currently also acting as the club’s Historian and a long-time member of the 356 Florida Owners Group (FOG).

Steve has been wrenching on his own Porsches since 1984 but got the restoration bug about 15 years ago as a hobby at his home auto workshop with a 1967 911S Coupe. He learned a lot from that experience and almost lost a wife in the process, his wife Robin loves to tell that story! He continued to restore older 911s, a couple 912s and even did the 356 mentioned above, but for that one, he entrusted 356 Unlimited to do all of the heavy lifting. That was when he met the 356 Unlimited staff, got to know them as individuals and realized what outstanding people they truly were.

Steve was also very good friends with Kirk Stowers, who had his 356 shop in the same location as 356 Unlimited for years before Buster moved in and turned it from a hobby shop to a full-fledged restoration business. Steve would stop and discuss the 356-world with Kirk and shoot the bull about once a month for years before Kirk’s passing in 2011. We discussed building a 356 Outlaw with a 912 engine and 5-speed tranny. We still have that shell on site and one day Steve hopes to complete that project.

1967S Restored by Steve

After retiring from Boeing, Steve planned to continue with his side restoration business to stay out of his wife’s hair at home and continue to feed his Porsche passion. When Buster offered up the opportunity to purchase 356 Unlimited, he jumped at the opportunity. He was able to keep this excellent staff together, Dennis Brown, Jeff Stephenson, Jean Laswell, Austin Miles and our newest addition, his son Ryan Hoffman. All are excellent people and together we will continue the great tradition Buster started of building world class 356s. If anything, he wants to continue to raise the bar to assure every detail no matter how small is restored exactly as these cars left the factory. It is always the owner’s discretion to the extent we will go, but no matter the level of work that is performed, it will be done with the highest level of attention to detail. We want you to be proud of your car and proud of the shop that did the work.

You are always welcome to stop by and check out the projects in work or to just shoot the bull!

1970 S and 1973 RS Projects

Steve with SR-71 Blackbird

Space Shuttle Atlantis

One afternoon in June, 1960 my father arrived at our home at Edwards AFB in Southern California in a new Signal Red Super 90 Roadster.  I’m not really sure if I discovered the “Spirit Of The 356” at that moment, or the day about a month later that I actually got to drive it!  I was eleven years old at the time.

My father, Jim Venable Jr., at the time a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force stationed at Edwards, had ordered the car for a “factory pick-up” in Germany by good friend Peter Walker.  It was subsequently shipped to the U.S. via the port in Houston, Texas.  My father hitched a ride on a military transport from Edwards to Houston to pick up the car and made the trip home in record time, as I clearly remember him boasting “I was passed only once the entire trip but I managed to pass him right back”.

Jim Venable, Jr. circa 1960 shortly after picking up the new Roadster.

Then came that special Saturday in July, 1960 when my father said, “Let’s go for a ride in the Roadster.”  He didn’t have to ask twice.  We hopped in the car and headed down to what was known at the time as the South Base.  It was a deserted and secluded area with many empty hangars, offices and maintenance buildings.  And of course there was the long stretch of tarmac no longer in use.  It was here that it all began, with my father practicing for the future gymkhana events.

He was fierce behind the wheel of that little red car.  I vividly recall sitting beside him holding the grab handle on the dash for all I was worth.  Top down, tires squealing, the smell of rubber burning, hard left turns then hard rights, wind in our hair… my father and me.  The two of us were sharing something that was very special.  That’s when it hit me;  I was smitten.  There was something about the sound of that engine, the smell, the feeling that the car would do about anything you asked of it and with no false bravado.  It’s a feeling that, to this day, I get in no other car.  Back and forth across the tarmac we sped, tires squealing louder with each pass.  Faster acceleration, harder braking, sharper, quicker turns.  I could have done this forever.

But suddenly my father pulled the car over to a full stop, engaged the emergency brake, and got out.  “Now it’s your turn”, he said as he opened my door.  I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.

“My turn?”  What could he possibly mean by that?

What he meant was I was about to get my very first driving lesson in a spanking new, Signal Red Super 90 Porsche 356 Roadster.  Heck, I didn’t know one person who actually knew what a Porsche was – and I was going to drive one.

My father really wanted to teach me, his eleven year old kid, how to drive in his pristine, new Roadster.  It wasn’t even broken in yet, but that’s exactly what he did.

I don’t know how many times I stalled it.  I ground gears.  I lugged the engine shifting up into fourth when I was trying desperately to find second.  This was my father’s prized possession.  It wasn’t even close to being broken in and I felt like I was destroying it with my ineptness… But what had to be gut-wrenching to my father on the inside never even began to show on the outside.  He just kept giving me instructions in a very calming, reassuring voice.

“Try to keep the rpm’s over 3000.  Don’t leave your foot on the clutch when you’re not shifting.  Always know what’s going on all around you”.

Buster, circa 1960 in the new Roadster.

On that hot summer day in the desert on the secluded and abandoned tarmac of an Air Force Base in Southern California my father shared with me one of life’s simple pleasures, made even more extraordinary by that very special little red car.  Within 20 minutes he had me accelerating through the first three gears, down-shifting properly, and even began my first introduction to “heel and toeing”.  It was summer in the desert and it was hot.  That had to be the reason the sweat was pouring down my fathers face.  I wish I could say I was cool as a cucumber.

All too soon it was time to head for home.  I stopped the car and was preparing to hop out and swap seats  with my father when he said, “Why don’t you go ahead and drive us at least part of the way home?  We can stop before we get to the main highway and switch there.”

I was extremely anxious but very determined.  Having something to brag about to my friends played no small part  in my resolve to stay behind the wheel.  Off we went.

I was doing just fine.  No issues.  In fact, it was exhilarating, at least until the red lights started flashing in the rearview.  Yep, I got busted.  It turns out that someone had heard the commotion we had created with the squealing tires and revving engine on the tarmac earlier, and had called the AP’s (Air Police).  They were somewhat surprised when they discovered who was driving but after an explanation by my father they sent us on our way, my father at the wheel.

I really had something to talk about now.  Picked up by the AP’s driving an exotic German sports car in the desert at the ripe old age of eleven..  It’s a day that I am still very proud of and will never forget as it becomes even more meaningful to me as the years pass.  It is as though it all happened yesterday.

After a long and successful life, happily married to my mom for more than 65 years, my father died in his sleep on my mothers 87th birthday in July, 2007.  He is very much missed by his entire family.  There have been many fine words spoken of my father since his passing as a direct result of the many  people he helped along the way.  His only stipulation was that his help remained confidential.  He was honest to a fault and very well respected by all who did business with him.  He taught me how to play golf about the same time he taught me to drive, and long before golf became popular.  Funny, the two things I enjoy most in this world (other than wife and family) were introduced to me by my father.  It seemed he had the knack of discovering things long before they became fashionable.  The 356 was certainly no exception.

The Super 90 Roadster will always be my favorite.  Number 89252 is tucked away in the garage as I write this.  It’s not the same car but it will have to do until I find number 87767, the car my father taught me how to drive that hot July day in the desert of Southern California and introduced me to “The Spirit of the 356”.

Should anyone have any information about Roadster # 87767 please email me at:    356unlimited@gmail.com

Thanks,      Buster

Jim in one of Buster’s earlier Roadsters, circa 1983.

Buster today in 89252.