I had wanted a Dino 308 GT4 ever since I first saw one at the age of 17, but let’s be realistic, I wasn’t born to a wealthy family, I didn’t have money in the bank, and quite frankly, I didn’t have any good prospects of ever being able to afford a Ferrari. People like me just don’t own cars like that. Despite those social expectations, that didn’t keep me from dreaming. I attended as many car shows as possible, talked to as many car enthusiasts as I could, and read as much as I could about Ferrari and every other dream car in the stable of my mind. It was this relentless quest that eventually led me to uncovering the truth about the 308 GT4—it just wasn’t the most popular Ferrari ever made, and that would play a vital role in my eventual ownership.

Historically, the 308 GT4 was one of the more “unloved” Ferraris made. It had a stunning divisive wedge shape design by Bertone, it had a mid-engine V8, it had four seats, and it had “Dino” badges. This wasn’t the stuff of Ferrari, but in 1975 it was the only Ferrari you could buy new in America—hence the reason it was re-badged as a Ferrari in mid-1975, they really needed to boost sales. That worked for the time, but in the long run, the car was still seen as the ugly duckling, thus less desirable for enthusiasts and collectors.

These cars sold new for around $24,000 when they were first introduced, which was a lot of money in the mid ’70s. They ended their run at prices bordering $45,000, but for decades after their introduction, they rarely achieved prices that high, nor that of its introductory price. The first one I ever saw for sale was in the early ’90s at a used car lot in Fort Worth, TX. In big yellow painted letters outlined in orange it shouted a price of $17,000. Take into account it was at a small used car dealer that boasts “no money down” and “easy financing” then you can easily assume the car was most likely bought at auction for at least half of their asking price. Also, not the typical sort of dealer you’d find a Ferrari. Of course, I stopped in to look at it.

At this point in history, minimum wage was $4.75 an hour, and I was working a job that paid me a smidge over $7.00 an hour (like I said, I don’t come from money and didn’t have many great prospects in life). Nevertheless, I was wide-eyed and highly optimistic when I pulled into that used car lot, I was thinking I could trade-in my 1988 VW Fox and finance the rest. For some reason I thought a car that I bought for $1500 had to be worth at least a couple of grand on trade-in, and surely I could talk them down to maybe $12,000 for the Ferrari, right?? Ah, the ignorance of youth. Fortunately reality hit me before I actually spoke with a salesman; a car that cost more than my annual salary was in no way affordable. Period. The car may as well have been a million dollars.

This was just the beginning of a Shakespearean Tragedy that would play out over the next three decades. You see, $17,000 for a car in the mid-90s was not crazy, and when you take into account that it was a Ferrari for that price, then it seemed like a steal. But it was just out of reach for me. At the time, the best car I could afford probably would have been about $10,000 if I wanted to take out a loan, and even then, that was probably pushing it. But life goes on, and I had to do the things that were right for me throughout the years. Music was very important to me, so I had formed a band that took up six years of my life. It was a lot of fun, but eventually my delusions of grandeur had to be tossed aside for the reality of life: I wasn’t going to be a rock star. 

During this time I met the woman who would later become my wife. The band came to an end, we got married and moved to New York City where we owned no car at all the entire four years we were there. New York really did wonders in identifying my priorities in life. As the cliché goes, I truly “found myself” while living in the city (and so did my wife). We discovered what was important to us and what wasn’t… and some of it was surprising. After two years we decided it was time to leave New York, but it would take another two years to get out. Michael Stipe was right when he wrote Leaving New York, Never Easy. Ultimately, we got out and landed in California.

Now that we lived in the Golden State, it was time to buy a car. We were doing okay, we could survive in California, but we had a small budget for a car. We set aside $5,000 and I tried to find something cool and fun for that. I’m fortunate that my wife (while not a car enthusiast per se) has similar taste in cars. She, too, wanted something older because modern cars were too big. She really wanted something with four doors and an automatic transmission (don’t judge). I was looking for a BMW E30, those were easily $5,000 or less at the time, but it would seem there were absolutely none of those to be had in the entire country when I was searching. We ended up with a 2001 Saab 95. It fit the bill, it was cool and quirky (which I loved), and we were happy with it until it started breaking down. Every. Other. Week. Which is really a shame as it was a really cool car.

We decided it was time to get a real car, something “expensive” (for us), which meant taking out a loan. I crunched the numbers and found we could easily do it. We ended up with a 2007 BMW 328i that was everything we wanted and needed at the time, and more! Barely three years old and only 21,000 miles with a shiny black paint job and black interior fully loaded—including built-in nav (which was important at the time). We kept that car for ten years and 120,000 miles, it was a very good car. But within a few months of buying the Bimmer I had landed a new job that was much closer to our home… as in walking distance. We had already been talking of getting a second car for my commute, but now that commute was really non-existent. So I shifted my focus to something fun.

As fate would have it, I found a 1975 Ferrari Dino 308 GT4, silver with black interior. I went to go look at it but the reality was that the $25,000 asking price was just out of reach for me, my budget for this second “fun” car was only $10,000… I might could have stretched to $15,000, but no way could I go higher. I ended up with a 1997 Porsche Boxster, and what a great car that was! Pure and raw, no frills, no options or extras, and also black on black on black. I had always loved Porsches and had long considered them cars that were too far out of reach for me, so this was (in a sense) a dream car for me.

Six years later I was doing much better financially and decided it was time for me to get a new car. Again, the 308 GT4 leapt to the forefront. I could easily lay down $25,000 for a car now, but that would be the maximum I could do. Upon searching, I found another 1975 year model for sale, it was $35,000. Again, just out of reach. What is this madness? Every time I had reached a point in my life where I could afford the car of my dreams at the price I last knew, the car of my dreams had risen to a price just enough to keep me away. I felt like the universe was against me. That did, however, lead to the purchase of my 2001 Porsche 911 Carrera, which was an amazing car, and quite frankly it was exactly what I needed at the time. Excellent condition, low miles, fully loaded and custom ordered, and it was a beautiful rare color to boot.

Over the next several years I watched the prices closely on the 308 GT4, I was bound and determined to own one. When I finally thought I could do $35,000, well, they were now $45,000. Then when I thought I could do $45,000, they were now $55,000. It just never stopped, no matter what I thought I could afford, the prices were always just out of reach. It was infuriating! To be fair, this was also the time EVERY vintage, classic, and collectible car were starting to increase dramatically in price. Ferrari just seemed to be on a faster and higher trajectory than other marques.

I finally got serious when I saw these cars hitting $85,000 on a couple of occasions, and one even hit $100,000. Either of those prices were beyond me, but I figured I could—at an absolute maximum—do $65,000, but I really wanted (and needed) to keep it much lower than that. I pulled out all the stops, got my shit together, and a serious hunt took place. Online auctions weren’t an option as the prices simply spiral out of control on those type of sites. I tried online classified ads, but the few I found elicited no response. I turned to social media and put the word out on multiple sites, and got several credible leads, but all were located in different states (and some in different countries) and most of them wanted $65,000… which made them unaffordable as I’d have to transport it to my home. My budget was tight.

I did find one at a local estate auction, with a starting bid of just $12,000. This one was black over tan, but it was in pretty sad shape. It had an after-market, or possibly dealer-installed sunroof, after-market seats and wheels, the interior had mold, lots of dings and scratches in the body, faded, oxidized and cracking paint, rust, and not much was known about its history. I ultimately had to pass on this car as the cost to get it in the condition I would have wanted it would have far exceeded the value of the car and what I could have conceivably afforded. This car ultimately sold for $16,000 plus auction fees.

I was too close to give up, yet I was getting very discouraged. Then I played the last card in my hand, my last-ditch effort. If this didn’t work, then I wasn’t ever going to own a 308 GT4. I visited a local Ferrari mechanic, introduced myself, and asked if he might know anyone who’s trying to sell their 308 GT4. Lo and behold, it worked. The mechanic connected me with an owner looking to sell and it happened to be the right car and the right price for me. I bought an above average 1975 Ferrari Dino 308 GT4 for $50,000 when the low market price was $65,000 for an average car. And just like that, after 34 years of pining, 10388 was now mine. The details of how I actually found this car is a whole other story in and of itself that I’ll publish next (so keep your eyes open for that). For over 30 years the car remained elusive, it was always just out of reach. Until the day it wasn’t.