This Odd British Sports Car has an American V-8
It's not a Sunbeam Tiger or an AC Ace. So, what is it?
09/23/2018
It's not a Sunbeam Tiger or an AC Ace. So, what is it?
You can say a lot of things about a 1965 Griffith Series 200, but, "meticulously built by the manufacturer to exacting tolerances" isn't one of them.
The original Griffith was a hybrid hot rod--a British-built sports car with an American Ford V-8 shoehorned between the frame tubes, in the spirit of the Shelby Cobra. The car's namesake and patron was a guy by the name of Jack Griffith, a Long Island, New York, Ford dealer who was involved with SCCA racing. In 1963, Griffith hatched a plan to install Ford 289s and four-speed transmissions in tiny fiberglass-bodied sports cars built by TVR, then resell them through a network of dealers. With its original MG engine in place, the car was called the TVR Grantura Mk. III, but once a V-8 bullet was loaded in the chamber, the car became the Griffith 200.
Fewer than 200 1965 model year Griffith 200 sports cars were built in the company's Syosset, New York, facility. By all accounts, Griffith 200s could be scary to drive and commonly suffered from overheating engines, undercharging electrical systems, failing rear axles and leaking gas tanks.
Which is what makes it almost poetic that Don Antilla, a detail-obsessed retired avionics engineer from Southbury, Connecticut, felt so compelled to take on a Griffith as a ground-up overhaul project. Starting with a poorly designed sports car that had deteriorated into a complete basket case, Don embarked on a six-year restoration odyssey, correcting as many of the car's original deficiencies as humanly possible while making the car appear only slightly modified.
Today, this Griffith is a complete rewrite of history: the car that should've been built when new.
The story began in 2000. Don was at a cruise night where he spotted an unusual British coupe powered by a 289. Don already owned the typical pair of Dearborn-engined Brits--a 289 Cobra and a Sunbeam GT Tiger. So a Griffith, it seemed, would make the perfect addition to his pack.
"I wanted the complete British collection--Cobra, Tiger and Griffith," he said. "I was at a cruise in Danbury and in pulled a nice gentleman in a red Griffith. I started asking questions about it and then I had to have one."
A subsequent four-year search led to a welder in Peekskill, New York, who owned a complete but tattered Griffith 200. The car was located three hours north in Queensbury, New York, where it was gathering dust in a barn.
"It was one of the few I could find for sale. After assessing it, I didn't know how bad it would be (to restore/rebuild), but all the instruments were there, the door handles were there, and a lot of the other stuff that drives you crazy was there."
The owner wasn't eager to sell, but Don, a Ford enthusiast and collector, sweetened the deal by offering to throw in a Ford 427 "side-oiler" short-block from his stash. With the Griffith now safely in his possession, Don spent the next 18 months formulating a game plan. "My standard habit is to do a lot of research so I don't make a foundational mistake," he said.
As purchased, the car was suffering from the effects of damp storage and neglect. The original engine had been left out of the car; it had filled with water and was locked tight. The Griffith's fiberglass body had been painted a couple of times--once in yellow and again in white--masking the original green. Beneath the grille opening, a chunk of fiberglass was missing and someone had cut a hole in the hood, apparently in an attempt to keep the car from overheating. Under the hood, the wiring harness in the engine compartment had taken on a nest-like appearance. The interior was similarly disheveled: dirty and disassembled, though goodies like the original gauges and wood steering wheel were present and accounted for. Meanwhile, underneath the car, rust had taken hold of the chassis outriggers.
After talking it over with friend Bob Cuneo of Chassis Dynamics, a race car chassis fabrication shop in Oxford, Connecticut, Don decided to start the project by ordering a new chassis for the car from David Gerald Sportscars in Redditch, Worcestershire, England.
"About three years into it, I ordered the chassis," he said. "I was deeply suspicious from the start and before I got into it myself, I called Bob Cuneo for his opinion."
Instead of ordering the chassis in the original 16-gauge tubing, Don decided to upgrade to 14-gauge tubing. When new, the Griffith 200 chassis differed slightly from the TVR Grantura in order to accommodate the Ford 289 and Toploader four-speed transmission: The front cross tubes were moved forward to make way for the oil pan sump, the frame tube on the passenger side was massaged with a hammer to clear the starter and the front suspension mounts were strengthened. All of this work was done at TVR prior to the car's arriving in the U.S.
Don's new, 21st-century Griffith chassis arrived in Baltimore, via British Airways, approximately two months after it was ordered. After some wrangling with U.S. Customs officials, the chassis was picked up by Griffith specialist Fred McKinney. McKinney prepped and painted the chassis, then repaired the hole in the car's hood as well as the section of broken fiberglass below the grille opening, and mounted the body to the chassis. Originally, Griffith bodies were mounted to the chassis with strips of fiberglass, but Don's would be attached with bolts.
Once the car was back at Don's shop, he installed the front suspension and set up the engine, transmission and rear axle alignment for permanent mounting in the chassis. With assistance from Bob Cuneo, the drivetrain was aligned to yield perfect working angles on the extremely short driveshaft; this included relocating the Corvette differential--a factory upgrade installed when the car was first constructed. New half-shafts were also required to correct other factory issues, so Don and Bob determined the dimensions and Azam of Anderson's Electric in Waterbury, Connecticut, fabricated them. Bob also worked to eliminate the "bump-steer" from the front suspension, reducing the factory's nearly half-inch variation across the suspension's travel to just 0.05-inch.
Once it was rolling, the car was sent off to have the body media-blasted; the stripped body was then sent to Don's brother, Bob, for finishing. His brother went to great lengths to get the Griffith's fiberglass clamshell hood to fit properly--reworking the hinges as well as heating and molding the fiberglass. Satisfied with the panel alignment, he then smoothed the body with marine epoxy, block-sanding between coats. Afterwards, the body was primed, block-sanded and painted with a urethane basecoat/clearcoat finish. The center stripe was painted BMW Steel Grey while the rest of the car was painted Laser Blue, a Buick color--deviations from the factory original British Racing Green.
"I made the decision to paint the car a color I wanted," Don said. "Every other car I own is painted according to the dataplate."
Since the original engine was no longer usable, Don went on the hunt for a 1965 date-coded 289 and found one at a high-performance engine builder's booth at Carlisle. Though the engine had started as an original 1965 289, the engine builder lengthened the stroke from 2.87 inches to 3.4 inches, raising the displacement to 347-cu.in. At its heart is a fairly aggressive hydraulic roller camshaft; the compression is a healthy 10.5:1. What this adds up to is 380hp and 312-lbs.ft. of torque in a car weighing less than 2,000 pounds.
If he had to do it over again? "I would've installed a lower-horsepower 289--the car has way too much power for its weight," Don said. "This is a dangerous car if you get aggressive on the gas."
While the suspension was fit to the chassis, the shell was lifted on and off a number of times to gauge the position of the wheels.
Photo courtesy Don Antilla
Reassembling a regular production car can be trying, but reassembling a low-production lightweight like the Griffith--while trying to make everything function properly and look concours-quality original--is a monumental undertaking.
To get the electrical system right, Don laid the original harness out on the garage floor and traced out every wire, diagramming the system as he went. He then turned to Auto Sparks, a U.K.-based company familiar with British cars, to make the new harness. One of the original problems with the Griffith was that its electrical system was unable to handle the draw of the dual cooling fans, an electric fuel pump, lights, a blower motor, etc., if they were switched on all at once. So Don put his engineering skills to work to ensure that everything would have adequate power. As the Griffith used a generator when new, Don restored a Ford generator from a Thunderbird and bolted it in place.
Griffiths were also notorious for overheating issues, so Don had a heavy-duty radiator built that would fit in the stock location and use the original shroud. Though excessive cabin heat was a Griffith trademark, Don spent a month restoring the original Smith's heater blower motor to better than new condition. Normally straightforward tasks like getting the side windows to roll up and down perfectly was another excruciatingly difficult labor of love, as was fitting the replacement Lexan rear window back into the car.
The standard Griffith 200 interior was basic black, but Don wanted something a little more exciting. Dave's Auto Upholstery in Oakville, Connecticut, performed all of the interior work.
Two-tone gray Italian leather was lavished on the seats, the door panels and the dash, while the floor was covered with traditional Wilton wool carpet. The instruments were recalibrated by Nisonger Instruments and the original steering wheel was restored by British Autowood.
With so many custom touches, the Griffith wouldn't be complete without a custom exhaust. Borla built the muffler out of stainless, replicating the original, and Bob Cuneo bent and fit new pipes exactly as they were routed originally.
"It's a single muffler with two inlets and two outlets, custom-made by Borla, wrapped with stainless wool inside," Don said. "Bob Cuneo made the pipes out of .065-wall aircraft-grade stainless. We did change the outlets to 1965-'66 Mustang GT tips."
The finished car is astoundingly well detailed and finished. Had the originals been this painstakingly assembled, Griffith might've been a serious competitor to Shelby American.
While the Griffith story is history now, Don has made sure that future Griffith 200 restorers, however few in number they may be, won't have to struggle with issues the way he had to. True to form, the engineer has compiled a notebook recording all the minute details, wiring improvements and suspension changes he has implemented.
"I did this to help others who might try to restore a Griffith," he said. "And to allow me to go back and troubleshoot if I encounter a problem."
"You don't know what you don't know," Don Antilla sighed when asked if he was aware of the effort it would take to make his barn-find Griffith better than new. "This is by far the most challenging car that I have ever restored.
"Many friends helped me with advice, and sometimes psychological counseling, as I built the Griffith: Randy Hartigan provided Griffith production history, as well as build details of the Griffith, and graciously offered me parts from his collection when I could not find them; Bob Cuneo is an engineer and NASCAR suspension, aero, structural fabricator who helped with the driveline, exhaust and suspension alignments and fabrication; Todd Decatur opened his machine shop many times on Sundays to machine special parts for me; Chris McArdle helped with detail parts from his collection of Griffiths; Fred McKinney and Craig Johnson performed body repair, frame interface modifications, and supplied suspension parts; Mike Mooney offered Griffith development details from the early Sixties; and Russ Rogers, Lou Santaniello and Mike Buonaducci gave me insight into the mechanical and electrical build details of their cars, while my brother Bob Antilla and his son, Michael, worked long and hard on the body and paint."
Ten years ago Brian Fahey was alive and well, enjoying his drive to the Syracuse Nationals in New York when he saw his first gasser-style Ford Falcon parked by the road at NYS Fairgrounds. At the time, gassers were relegated to hipster meets at Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank or racing in tightly knit gasser associations. Neither were inviting to the curious or uninitiated, so the build style was still a novelty at huge mainline shows like the Nats. Still, the car had Fahey’s attention. “It was an early ‘60s Falcon with a tunnel ram, and a straight axel,” says Fahey. By the time he had entered the fairgrounds, he had a lead on a base 1962 Falcon stashed away in a garage close to his house, and a plan to build one for himself.
John Machaqueiro
Based on the description of the car he heard over the phone, he made a deal to buy the car sight unseen. “The car was completely stripped, the fenders were zip tied together, and all the parts were unlabeled in boxes,” Fahey says. “I don’t care what kind of cars they are, I only see what I can do with them.” In his mind, he saw a nose-high Falcon gasser, just like the one in New York. After calling a friend with a trailer, he drove the 15 miles from his home in Old Forge, to Dallas, Pennsylvania to gather the parts and get them home.
After sorting through the bins, he called painter Carl Lucarelli of Lucarelli Paint and negotiated a color. “I suggested Hot Rod Black from SEM and Carl said, ‘anything but Hot Rod Black,’” Fahey says. They agreed that Wimbledon White was era-correct, and the fenders, doors, and hood would be painted while Fahey prepped the body.
The body was clean with only a small amount of rust near the roof, but otherwise was rust free. Fahey blew it apart in his garage, ordered a gasser kit from Speedway Motors, and sent the engine out for a rebuild. Fahey was looking for fenderwell headers that fit an early Falcon body when he found a set of Schoenfeld headers designed for circle track racing that looked like they might work for the project. He got the manufacturer on the phone and had a pair sent out for fitment. Since roundy-round guys build asymmetrical cars, one side fit, and the other did not. Back on the phone, Fahey talked them into building a mirror image set that he bolted to the 302.
Back at the paint shop, Lucarelli suggested radiused wheelwells to fit the 15x10-inch Rocket wheels and 29x10 piecrust tires. Using ½-inch tubing and some metal-working kung-fu Fahey developed in the Navy and later as a professional machinist and welder at Owens Illinois, they added subtle flairs to the job without using filler or anything other than sheetmetal and welding rod. Since this was to be a fairgrounds build, he used a set of 165 VW skinny tires in front on 15x4.5-inch rims.
Behind the 302, Fahey kept the C4 and added a 9-inch on leaf springs with Monroe “overload” shocks. While looking for more suspension goodies, he ran across a guy on the internet selling homemade ladder bars from a '70s Studebaker drag racing effort. Weirder than that, the bars fit the car, requiring that Fahey only add shackles to the front of the suspension to let it move. He added frame connectors and completed the roll cage with crossbars that connect both sides of the cage, and provide mounts for the Jeep CJ5 seats. Using the original steering column, Fahey used his Jeep-building experience to set up a rear-steer linkage system that utilized the original steering box. Under the hood he cut out the shock towers for the headers and downbars and fabricated a pair of shock mounts. In the rear, he kept the factory fuel tank in its stock location and built an 18-guage rear firewall and deleted the rear seat.
Once Fahey finished the fabrication and assembled the roller, it went to Lucarelli who finished the paint in one week. Fahey picked up the car and had it ready two weeks later for the indoor car show nationals in Oaks, Pennsylvania, and the Motorama in Harrisburg. There were no gasser classes at the shows, but that didn’t stop the car from getting both attention and offers to buy it. Fahey made a splash for three or four years with his gasser build. Things were good, he had built a winner. Life was good. Then he died.
“I was dead for 30 minutes,” Fahey says with a weird gleam in his eye. “I had 100-percent blockage of the widow maker and went down at work.” The EMTs brought Fahey back during the ambulance ride to the hospital, and Fahey woke up with several broken ribs and a new outlook on life.
“I met a girl who asked me why my cars looked like race cars when I don’t race them,” he continues. “So I invited her to the Jalopy Showdown at Beaver Springs and ran 13s. On the last run I killed a lifter.” He pulled out the 302 and bought a 416-hp 347 from BluePrint Engines, additional safety gear like certified belts, a new helmet, and slicks, and continued to race. He swapped the stock tank for a fuel cell and mounted the battery in the truck. At Island Raceway, the car went 12.01 before the transmission gave up. Despite the minor setbacks, the suspension he built for the street worked well on the track, and the car was fast. He ran the car locally for four years, consistently running 12.01 in the quarter mile.
Thinking back on the health scare (he was dead for 30 minutes) he decided to get serious about the future. Currently, Performance World in Moosic, Pennsylvania is bolting together a Windsor-based 408 with a “big” solid roller cam and “big” AFR heads that should make 700 horsepower. Jack Sepanek from Sepanek Racing Transmission is bolting together a healthy Powerglide to take some violence out of the launch and prevent any oildowns. We met Fahley running 12.01s at Hemmings Musclepalooza 2024 at Maple Grove Raceway in Pennsylvania and plan to see him again when he is trying to handle 700 horsepower on leaf-springs and living for the day.
Joseph Tegerdine, an 18-year-old Springville, Utah, teen is living his life to the fullest, driving his new 2020 Ford Mustang, a dream car that he was once working to save up to buy for himself. In a twist of fate six years ago, his dad decided to make the purchase happen sooner so his son, who was diagnosed with terminal cancer, could squeeze every ounce of happiness into his life while he still can.
"I've just liked Mustangs for as long as I can remember. Six-year-old me liked it, the headlights looked cool, and I stuck with it," Joseph told the Detroit Free Press. "I used to drive this Ford Bronco. It was a big truck, basically. I'd get compliments and I'd feel so manly. We sold that and I started driving my mom's minivan, a Honda Odyssey. I felt like my testosterone was being drained away. Not great."
He laughed, continuing: "In a Mustang I feel like a man again. It's the silliest thing. When you get in and start it, the car just rumbles around you. It's not a noise, it's a feeling. When you take corners, you can feel you're being pushed through the corner from the back. I like the way rear-wheel drive feels. When you turn the (steering) wheel, what I feel are cleaner turns."
When his dad made a post on X about his purchase, he had no idea about the offer his son was about to receive.
"For those wondering why I’d buy my 18yr old son a 330hp Mustang, well, he’s been given months to live and can’t work long enough to buy one himself. His comment on the way home, 'Dad, I’m going to squeeze a few extra months of life just to be able to drive this.' #cancersucks"
As of this writing, the post has over 13.8 million views.
For those wondering why I\u2019d buy my 18yr old son a 330hp Mustang, well, he\u2019s been given months to live and can\u2019t work long enough to buy one himself. His comment on the way home, \u201c Dad, I\u2019m going to squeeze a few extra months of life just to be able to drive this.\u201d #cancersucks— (@)
Joseph Tegerdine, Joe’s son, was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a form of bone cancer, in 2018, after severe knee pain caused him and his parents to seek medical attention. After the diagnoses, the then seventh grader underwent chemotherapy treatments. Treatment also included a rotationplasty, a procedure where the compromised bone is cut out, the lower leg rotated, then tibia and fibula reattached to the femur.
In reply to the heartfelt post, Ford CEO Jim Farley replied, “Hi Joe, I’m so sorry to hear what your family is going through. Please let me know if you and your son would like to attend @FPRacingSchool to experience a @FordMustang Dark Horse on the track. DM me and we’ll make it happen.”
"It was really crazy. That tweet was just kind of random," Joe Tergerdine told the Free Press. "He sent a direct message to me, saying, 'Hey, you want me to do this?' If it's OK, his guys would get everything set up ... at the Ford Performance Center in Charlotte, North Carolina. They're flying us out there. It's just really cool, and we'll stay in Charlotte for a couple of days. There's a big dinner before school. Then Joseph will be on the track with the (Mustang) Dark Horse."
“I get to drive one of the most powerful Ford track Mustangs there is. This is going to be sick," Joe commented.
"You have to live day by day because, day by day, if you look at my life, it’s actually fantastic. I'm in Japan right now. I've got a car of my dreams, I'm surrounded by tons of people I absolutely adore and I'm going to driving school," he told the Free Press. "Then you look at the future, and it all starts to break down. I don't really need to look at the future. Morbidly, I don’t really have one. I can’t be, like, 'In a year —' If I get a year, I’ll be extremely lucky."
Joseph will continue radiation and chemo treatments while living his best life, checking more dreams off his bucket list with his family.
Source: The Detroit Free Press