From the March 2026 issue of Classic Motorsports
The email read: “Hi guys. Sadly, I have come down with a cold or worse, so will be unable to attend the Garage Day tomorrow. Although you may miss my smiling face, you will definitely miss the donuts I am scheduled to bring.”
Freshly baked muffins saved the day, avoiding a crisis. The weekly Garage Day–one part social and two parts mechanical–carried on. By 9 a.m., the pad around the Braunstein’s air-conditioned, four-bay garage, with its lift, bathroom, loaded toolboxes, reference books and fast Wi-Fi, was filling up.
An MGB rolls in, followed by a TD, a Sprite, a TR6, a Morgan Plus 8 and a Plus4. Soon, a stately Bentley appears, along with an MGA, a Big Healey and an MGB GT. On a busy Wednesday, a dozen little British cars may show. Most owners make the drive to exercise their cars and hang out, but a couple with problems have booked lift time.
As Mark Braunstein, the host, remembers it, the first Garage Day took place “informally” in his Central Florida garage in 2018, when fellow Morgan fanatic Rick Frazee (he and Mark have owned 40+) brought over one of his Moggies for repairs. Ditto the next week.
Photograph by John Webber.
“Before long, other Morgans showed up, and this evolved to regular Wednesday Garage Days with coffee and donuts,” he explains. “I started keeping notes on them the next year.” Later, when this resolute pair ran low on Morgans to tinker with, they invited other LBC–short for Little British Cars. Time flew, friendships grew, and eight years later, they’re still at it.
Mark explains: “We started with Morgans because a few around here were needy. Several suffered from similar afflictions, and it was easier to tackle these things together: someone to turn a wrench, someone to get stuff, someone to suggest stuff–no shortage there–and someone for comic relief. We have all those covered and more.”
Rick, a former vintage racer with a lifetime of LBC know-how, stepped up as head mechanic and co-scheduler. “That means I get the blame if something goes wrong, and I’m the last one to leave,” he says.
Why Wednesday? “Just one of those things,” Mark says. “We’re mostly retired, and midweek is as good as any. Our spouses are happy to have us out of the house. They plan their own activities. When we’re home on Wednesday, they are not thrilled.”
As word spread, ailing Morgans rolled in and drove away healed. The Central Florida British Car Club joined up (club president Jeff Corenblum is a regular), and today the group devotes itself to fixing those annoying evils that keep LBCs at home. If you’re reading this, you know what they are.
Garage Day–and yes, it’s a proper noun–mixes socializing with working on cars. Each year gets immortalized in its own annual, too. Photograph by John Webber.
Garage Day regulars number about a dozen and own more than 50 British cars (including projects) plus motorcycles and other sporty rides. These like-minded gents share a love of coffee, donuts, lunching and ragging each other while they tinker. A visitor may find a couple of engineers, a hotelier, real estate lawyer, master electrician, car rental exec, boat captain, ex-military, a business owner or two, sales manager, woodworker and professional photographer, among others.
They drive as far as 50 miles, eager to pitch in. Their talents range from keen diagnostic savvy and capable wrench-turning to not so hot but willing to learn. Their techniques vary. They’ve been known to squabble over force versus finesse–up to and including the use of a Sawzall.
They’re retired, sure, but experienced might be a better word; they’ve learned to pace themselves (sitting is encouraged), aren’t afraid to ask for help, and believe that more hands mean less work, and six or eight pairs of eyes are better than one.
Some have undergone joint replacements, back repairs and chiropractic tweaks, and all have popped their share of Tylenol Extra Strength caps. Twisting pretzel-like over and under tiny cars isn’t as easy as it once was. They joke that they need another supple enthusiast or two as “designated benders”–preferably with good eyes and a strong back. Interested? Contact Mark or Rick for an application.
Photograph by Colin Wood
What do they fix? Everything routine: oil and filter changes, tuneups, brake jobs and bleeds (occasionally their own), carb rebuilds, and they’ve replaced gaskets, radiators, fans and belts. They’ve installed anti-roll bars and suspension bushings and springs, wiring harnesses and generators, and chased electrical gremlins while cursing the Prince of Darkness.
They also tackle big greasy jobs: yanking cylinder heads for valve work, and engines for overhauls, and clutch and transmission repairs. They do complex stuff too, like fabricating mounts and installing an a/c system. They’ve fitted power steering to a Morgan Roadster (making driving easier for Mark after neck surgery) and converted a Plus 8 from propane to carbureted gas and then to throttle body injection, a job that took weeks.
They’ve rebuilt a Bentley trafficator or two. They’ve replaced crushed fenders, but they don’t tackle paint (other than buffing), body work or extensive upholstery repairs. “Once in a while, we get in over our heads,” Rick says, “but we work our way out of it.”
If they dive into a project and can’t fix it, somebody knows a guy who knows a guy. Or someone jumps on the internet for guidance. Another makes a parts run or hauls oily bits out for repair. In dire circumstances, a day may drag into multiple days. If they need to order parts, they push the stranded car into another bay or outside to make room for the next job. This group is flexible. They grouse, they wrangle, they joke and poke, but someone comes up with a workable solution. Probably.
They’re a grateful bunch, too. They agree that Mark and Rick are Morgan whizzes, and that know-how translates to most LBCs. They appreciate Rick’s guidance and the fact that Mark is extraordinarily generous–they rave about his lift–to share his garage and all its mechanical goodies.
But that’s not all. Mark recaps each Garage Day. Recaps? The man rambles about health, hurricanes, rocket launches, croaking tree frogs, lunches (food is big), recent travels and other trivia, occasionally pausing to praise Krispy Kremes: “They are normally still warm, and you can smell the sugar.”
Thus he ponders the vagaries of life while he details the day’s fixes and assigns next Wednesday’s sacred donut duty. Each week he emails this report to a massive list, and in January he compiles and publishes a slick, bound volume of the year’s activities, complete with photos. Flipping through one, we learn that on January 4, 2020, GDers installed a new brake master cylinder on a Plus 4.
The victories can range from a simple electrical repair to taking to the greens at Concours d’Lemons in a clapped-out Metropolitan. Photograph by John Webber.
John Stanley, a longtimer whose stable includes a Morgan trike, a Plus 8, a Roadster, various motorcycles and a Corvette or two, values his Garage Days. “I was a total novice on anything mechanical. I never worked on cars until I retired,” he explains. “Especially keeping that trike running is way beyond my skill set. I’ve learned so much.”
Not long ago, the transmission in his Plus 8 became progressively more difficult to downshift. Group members voiced opinions and suggested fixes. However, draining the lubricant revealed shiny metal bits. Who makes the final decision on a repair? Mark explains, “The owner always calls the shots. We may argue over what to try, but the owner prevails.”
Realizing that metal bits don’t lie, John knew the transmission had to come out. To avoid tying up Mark’s lift, he elected to do it in his home shop. So a Garage Day rescue squad drove 30 miles to his place, and the extraction proved to be as troublesome as they feared. “It’s like the car was built around it, never to be removed,” John said. Once the transmission was out, he shipped it to a specialist who found worn synchros. At this writing, it is being rebuilt.
Photograph by Colin Wood
Gary Storrs (a designated bender) owns a dozen or so LBCs, including a couple of ’50s Nash Metropolitans, built by Austin in England. “I started buying old cars back when they were cheap,” he says. “Now that I’m retired, I work on them.” To him, Wednesdays with the gang serve as a welcome stress reliever, a time to unwind. “I work on my cars alone,” he says, “but it’s a lot more fun to talk to the guys and exchange ideas while we work.”
A while back, he bought a dead Metropolitan for parts. “It was too good to cut up, but it was so crusty it made a perfect Concours d’Lemons entry,” he recalls. Except he couldn’t get it to run. As time ran out for competing in a show, the group came to the rescue. They tinkered with fuel and fire, but the Metro was having none of it. Finally, a GDer detected a weird glitch, a bad valve in the newly rebuilt fuel pump. They popped in the old valve–and it lived! “I’d put a new kit in that pump, so I would have never found that on my own,” Gary says. He drove the relic onto the showfield and chugged off with a class win. “Now it’s a winner, so I’m gonna leave it just the way it is.”
What keeps the group going week after week? Camaraderie, successes and ibuprofen. A warm shower doesn’t hurt, either. Photograph by John Webber
Raise your hand if you’ve changed the oil and filter on a 1954 Bentley R-Type. Ah, we thought so. With the 4000-pound hulk on the lift, it took a man underneath and one topside on a ladder, plus five amused helpers, to reach the elusive cannister. “It might have been easier to remove more panels,” owner Jeff Corenblum recalls, “but this was way more fun.”
Rick jokes that it was “the worst car they ever worked on,” and Mark adds, “We pulled panels to get to panels to get to other panels. The hardware was a mix of SAE and Whitworth, and once we got there, we could barely get a wrench on it. It took all day, but we walked into O’Reilly’s, held up the old cartridge, asked if they had one–and they did!”
Regulars have learned a lot by watching, and the experts among them have also held soldering lessons, deciphered wiring diagrams, shared brake system tips, conducted pre-purchase inspections and led a training class on Mark’s 1934 Morgan trike. Spoiler: It takes four guys with a checklist just to start it. Driving it requires the advanced course. “We love this car because it’s older than we are,” a GDer tells us.
Photograph by John Webber.
Garage Days have survived hurricanes, a pandemic, sickness, surgeries and family crises. They’ve brought dead LBCs back to life, made road trips and emergency rescues, and celebrated member milestones (a tutu is involved) and health triumphs. Since 2019, Mark and Rick and the gang have averaged 47 GDs a year (nearing 300 total) and serviced dozens of LBCs, some multiple times, along with a handful of Corvettes, Hyundais, SUVs, a Triumph-powered Lancia replica and one go-kart.
This diverse group keeps it light by focusing on cars and avoiding politics and religion. Along with the greasy stuff they do, they also help charities raise money, attend monthly Brit club breakfasts, and help plan and support an annual British concours that draws 250 entries. They take pride in having fun while they keep their LBCs alive and enjoy sharing them with others.
Now, about those donuts: Who’s next on the schedule?
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