My dad grew up in St Louis, Missouri and his dad had a car just like this. Unfortunately when he passed away, the family had to sell the car and it was lost. It was a 1952 MG TD, the exact same car as this one. My dad remembers fondly growing up with that car—having his dad take him to school in St Louis in the winter when it was freezing in a convertible with no heat.
My mom thought five years ago that we should try to find another one of those MG TDs to surprise my dad with it. I was able to locate one in Los Angeles that was the same color, same year. Everything was exactly the same except for that my grandpa's MG had the steering wheel on the right hand side, because he’d acquired it during World War II.
We all went out to breakfast one morning after I had procured the car. I had it all set up in the parking lot so that when my dad left the restaurant, he would see it. And of course, just as planned, when he walked out of the restaurant he saw the MG. He immediately went over and started walking around it, not knowing that it was now his car. All of our family was standing there and he turned to us and said, “Oh gosh, this looks just like my Dad's”.
At that moment, I started to reach in to open the glove box so that I could pull out the registration, but my dad said to me in shock, “Matt, don't touch it! Get your hands off that car!” So I turned to him and said, “Dad, it's okay. This is your car.” He was so stunned that he couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on. So I handed him the keys and he had tears in his eyes. That moment was priceless.