Time Machine

Once upon a time, Liz Taylor was in Joburg and needed a lift to hospital. And she got one - in a growling Ford Mustang. By Thomas Falkiner

Everyone has a celebrity story to tell. You know, like that time your cousin met Colin Farrell in a trendy Cape Town bar. Or how a friend of a friend once shared a hotel lift with Sting. And who'll forget the day your sister, OMG, met Jay-Z in New York on a business trip last year. She even has the photographic evidence on her iPhone to prove it.

Yep, everybody has a VIP tale to dish out at dinner parties, but few come close to an encounter experienced by a Johannesburg man and his American muscle car. A fellow car fan with a face you'll no doubt recognise, if you've been to Hyde Park's Galleon Pharmacy in the last 20 years, 78-year-old Gerry Akakios is the king of celeb anecdotes.

Indeed, back in the early 1970s when Hillbrow was the hip place to be, Akakios was a bachelor most eligible. A handsome Greek fellow working as a pharmacist, not only did he have an apartment in the trendy Madison Square Gardens block but also keys to one of the hottest babe magnets money could buy at the time: a 1969 Ford Mustang Coupé.

"I lusted after a Mustang," says Akakios, flipping through his photo album. "A friend of mine had the Cobra Jet model and after he let me drive it, I knew I had to get one, too.

"So I got hold of this Ford dealer in New York and they made arrangements to send one over. I'd ordered a red 302, but the guys dropped it into the sea while loading it onto the ship. That's how I ended up with a black car with great fire-breathing dragons on its bonnet."

A snip at $1000 - or 800 South African Rand - Akakios admits that he felt like a real playboy when he drove it home from the Durban docks; a true man about town. Always impeccably dressed and now rolling in a ride both rare and beautiful, many a lady tried to tickle his fancy with a smile or a flash of thigh. Sadly for them, the so-called "Great European Lover" only had eyes for one: a smouldering young PR girl named Chen Sam.

"So what," I hear you say, "what's the big deal?" Well the rub lies in the fact that Chen would soon bring a most interesting element into her boyfriend's life.

Working for a promotions company called Megan Carr, the Egyptian-born 31-year-old was made responsible for putting together a celebrity tennis tournament to be held at Ellis Park late in 1975.

Designed to raise money for charity, it saw some of Hollywood's finest taking to the court, including actress Elizabeth Taylor and her soon-to-be-husband for the second time, Richard Burton.

"She made a big impression on those two," Akakios explains. "They were constantly fighting with each other, you see, and somehow Chen's presence helped calm things down a bit. Burton invited her to stay with them at the then very posh Landdrost Hotel and in no time at all she landed the job as the couple's official public relations officer."

Things got even more surreal when, and simply by association, Akakios found himself sampling the sort of champagne lifestyle most South Africans could only dream about.

"I can remember the first time I met Taylor. It was at this glamorous nightclub called Annabelle's. She hired the entire place and it was filled with famous, wealthy people. Obviously, because I went as Chen's date, I ended up sitting at her table all evening. Taylor was a lovely person, and so was Burton. But I could sense she was volatile."

Fanciful nightlife forays aside, the personal meat of Akakios's story unwrapped itself when the 42-year-old pharmacist was called into action following an after-hours medical emergency.

"Taylor wasn't well," he explains, gesturing with his hands, "so I arranged for a doctor - an associate of mine - to go over to the hotel and examine her. Soon after he arrived I received a phonecall saying that it was sciatica. She needed X-rays, I was told, and that I was to come over immediately and take her to the nearest hospital."

What unfolded next wouldn't be out of place in one of those gritty celluloid thrillers like Bullitt, The Driver or The French Connection. Quickly donning a coat, Akakios fired up his Mustang and moved urgently through the inner-city gridlock, the note of that big 302V8 engine rising operatic through a man-made amphitheatre of glass and concrete.

"I had to play it cool and not attract any attention," he says with a wild smile, "so I drove into the hotel's basement and waited for Taylor to come down in one of the elevators."

After loading her into his car, Akakios assumed all the quick-thinking astuteness of a proper getaway driver as he headed in the direction of the nearby Brenthurst Clinic. Taylor arrived at her destination without being hassled by any of the town's ever-present reporters. Next time around, however, she wouldn't be as lucky.

"Somehow the press community had learnt that Taylor was being chauffeured around in this big black Ford Mustang. So the second - and last - time I took her to hospital I ended up being followed by an entire motorcade of photographers. Fortunately I was able to give them all the slip. And instead of using the front entrance, I snuck down an alley and got her in through one of the clinic's back doors." Exciting? "Oh yes, it was. Very."

But the elation of this unexpected time in the celebrity sun was about to come to a rather tragic end. Fed up with the poor turnout at Megan Carr's tennis tournament, Taylor and Burton threw in the towel and headed back to America - with Chen in tow.

"Taylor and Chen had grown very fond of each other," Akakios continues. "They had developed this almost sisterly bond and Taylor, in particular, didn't want to let it go. So she offered Chen the opportunity to come and work with her in the US." The man goes silent for a while, eyes distant, pondering what could have been.

"I loved her, we'd been faithful for five years, but I knew this was an opportunity too good to ignore. She asked me what to do and I said, 'do whatever you think is right.' And so she left. I saw her a few times, briefly, afterwards but that was it. Now all I have to remind me of her are these photographs, my memories and, of course, that Mustang."

The only other witness to that crazy moment in time, Akakios's burly American import, kept on rumbling until, some time in 1986, it was stolen by thieves masquerading as mechanics. Recovered on the rooftop parking lot of Hyde Park shopping centre some months after the fact, its owner then stuck it into storage, where the ageing process started to take hold. Paint tarnished and cracked. Rubber seals shrivelled. Tyres deflated.

But skip forward to the here and now, and it's clear that things are about to change. For after considerable arm-twisting and numerous dinner invites, Akakios finally relented to selling Verushka (a name given to the car by Chen) to family friends Gerry and Gia Callinicos.

A lifelong Mustang fan, 27-year-old Gia is determined to massage the old Ford back to its original glory with a proper respray and a complete interior overhaul. Thankfully, all the mechanical bits are still sweet, that V8 never shy to clear its throat.

"Thanks to my dad's influence I have always had a fascination for old cars," Gia says, standing next to her new vintage charge. "I just love the fact that they're so out of the ordinary. I'm not into flashy new models at all; I prefer a vehicle that has been lived in. You know, something with an interesting history and a timeless look."

And with this wise old pony, Callinicos is getting both. But even better than checking these two boxes is the satisfaction she can garner from preserving a motor in which Gerry Akakios experienced the wildest, most bizarre drive of his life. A car with a killer tale to tell. Here's hoping that its crazy past continues to read well in the future.