I was born in the fall of 1962 and grew up in a small town just under 60 kilometers outside the Ruhr area. Hard-working people enjoyed a good life, and new opportunities could be found around every corner.

Highly specialized small and medium-sized enterprises — the kind that made German engineering world-famous — emerged everywhere, bringing prosperity to entrepreneurs in towns just like ours.

I still remember, when I was ten years old, how a new highway was being built to connect the Ruhr area with the southeast of West Germany. My brother Frank, who was a year older, my best friend Toni, and I grabbed our bikes and rode to a highway bridge to watch the cars go by.

For the first time in our lives, we saw exotic cars like Jaguars, Mercedes SLs, Ferraris, De Tomasos, and the spaceship-like Lamborghini Countach. They roared past us at speeds well over 200 km/h. But what impressed us most was the Porsche 911, how it flew down the fast lane at full throttle, leaving everything else behind. Incredible.

You can’t imagine what it meant to a ten-year-old boy to see a BLOOD-RED Porsche 911 racing down the autobahn and to hear, for the very first time, the unmistakable growl of the 911's six-cylinder boxer engine. Whenever we had the time, we’d return to that bridge and lie in the grass for hours, just waiting to catch another glimpse of one of those iconic Porsches flying past. That was my first encounter with the Porsche 911 — and it’s stayed with me ever since.

As I got older, I naturally became interested in motorsport and started racing on the Nürburgring Nordschleife. Like most of us, I started small and worked my way up — beginning in the 1300 cc class, then moving on to 1600 cc and 2-liter touring cars. I gained experience, improved my technical skills, became faster, and eventually joined a Porsche team.

The 911: the only car that could be pushed to its limits for hours on the unforgiving “GREEN HELL” — the Nürburgring Nordschleife. 21.7 kilometers of the world’s wildest racetrack, where the nearly indestructible 911 somehow feels right at home.

The era of the early 911 S was over by the 1980s, but the wide-bodied RSRs remained competitive well into the 1990s.

Fortunately, I found a sponsor for the endurance championship at the time and logged thousands of laps in an RSR, 934, and 935.

We were quite successful in motorsport across Europe — some of the tracks we raced on don’t even exist anymore. We mainly competed in endurance races ranging from 4 to 24 hours, which were truly Porsche’s home turf.

Of course, we also had to endure some devastating defeats. But one thing should never be forgotten: back then, privateers and factory drivers lined up on the same grid and competed for victory with mutual respect. I also had my share of serious accidents — the worst probably happened at Spa-Francorchamps in my beloved red 1974 RSR. After side contact in Eau Rouge, the car lifted off. On impact, the engine was torn from the chassis and the rest shattered into pieces. If it had been any other car from that era, I wouldn’t be here today writing this little “love story".

In my later years, I spent over 15 years racing classic cars, which led me to drive Porsche sports prototypes. These included rare and iconic models like the 904, 906, 910, 908, the legendary 917, and the 935. But my absolute favorite remains the 911 RSR — and, of course, the unforgettable 911 STs.

Many people don’t realize that the 911 S from the late ’60s and early ’70s (1969 to 1972) was the first Porsche to make the brand truly competitive for overall victories in the GTS class.

The real story begins with Porsche 911 customers in the mid-1960s, who started modifying their road cars for racing — and achieved success. The factory itself placed little emphasis on racing production models at the time. Instead, the focus was on “sports prototypes” and the more prestigious international championships, in the ongoing rivalry with Ferrari.

Unnoticed by other manufacturers—especially the British racing community—the Porsche 911 didn’t have a single standout advantage over its competitors. It was the careful composition of all its technical elements, packed into this small GT, that set it apart… let’s call it part of the plan.

Some private teams began widening the fenders and wheel arches to fit broader tires, adding lightweight front and rear lids, and stripping out all unnecessary interior components. They lightened the car wherever possible and retuned the engine. They turned the 911 S into a race winner.

The 911 ST was born.