Many guys wonder what it would be like to build a car from scratch—to give it the look, the power, the name they want. A few have done it and in the modern era that includes a man named Frank Reisner. Born in Hungary and raised in Canada, he traveled back to Europe in the late 1950s as a paint salesman intending to take a long vacation but plans changed dramatically when he and his auto-enthusiast wife wandered through Italy.
Car-people to the core, they discovered the Turin and Modena areas which were virtually teeming with small craft shops producing custom suspension and metalwork for the likes of Ferrari. He quickly became involved with a group doing chassis design, and next began producing his own line of racing components and “tuner” kits. Full-on modified versions of existing cars followed which he labeled with the brand Intermeccanica. As his contacts in the area grew, it became apparent that with use of local vendors it would be possible to build an entire car if it could be based on existing production powertrain and suspension components.
The Apollo two-place sports car was soon being built using Buick engines as his venture hit the big-time fast for an independent start-up producer. 88 were produced, and other models followed in quantities of one and up. Production of Italias quickly numbered near 100 per year, selling to enthusiasts and celebrities such as Sonny and Cher. 11 Murenas, a 429 Ford-powered sports station wagon, came out of the Intermeccanica shop. 33 Omegas were shipped uncompleted to the U.S. where they were assembled by Holman-Moody.
A decade after starting out, Frank Reisner had built a respected name and in the early ’70s a partnership with Opel of Germany developed the Indra. Using Opel midsize a-arm and semi-trailing arm/De Dion suspension and with genuine 350 Corvette power, the steel-bodied Indra was the last design of Italian Franco Scaglione and was sold in Europe and the U.S. in coupe, 2 2 and convertible form.
Unfortunately the horizons for the enterprise changed after the production of only 125 units, when GM and Opel pulled the plug on the Intermeccanica collaboration as their work on a similar project with former Indra sales agent Erich Bitter became the focus. Two final cars with Ford power were built, and then the shop was packed up for a move to, of all places, San Bernardino, California, where they had been offered a deal by the local economic development department and where it was felt that costs would be lower. The promised funding failed to materialize, and their equipment was left at the shipping docks with a lien on it. After settling debts from Italy the Reisners were left with only a few dollars, one Indra, and no tooling with which to build any more. Unlike with Italy, San Bernardino offered little in the way of talented old-world panel-forming and chassis fabrication talent with which to start over.
Still, Intermeccanica pressed on but took a strange turn and began producing what could be called replicars in fiberglass, as well as doing Mustang convertible conversions in the early ‘80s prior to factory availability. Eventually the Reisners moved back home to Canada and with son Henry continued to build fiberglass-and-steel cars based on early Porsches.
I had known of this story but didn’t think of it the day I first drove by a local restoration/hot rod shop and spied what I thought was an unusual sports car sitting out in the parking area. I had to back up to have a second look, then turned into the lot. I didn’t get too close until I had a word with Dana, the owner of the shop. With his knowing nod I was free to crawl all around it.
This vehicle, whatever it was, was obviously a special piece. It looked too good to be something that one man made but not slick enough to have come from any normal production line. There were gorgeous hand-hammered curves and mitred-and-welded construction details all atop a production-type suspension unfamiliar to me.
I was looking over the pictured 1972 Indra Spyder, which belongs to Dave Miller of San Diego. Purchased in Europe and one of perhaps two examples in the U.S., it demonstrates the beauty and in places the crudeness common to low production hand-built vehicles. As a near 40-year-old car it has been crashed in the front and poorly repaired, a little rust showing around the seams and the original hood and trunk lid were destroyed in storage during the San Diego wildfires of 2007. The owner, however, is committed to seeing it restored and work gradually progresses with Dana. The day I spoke to him he was working on re-skinning the original hood frame with a fresh piece of .047” steel.
