By Richard Truett

VALLEY FORGE, Penn. — Exactly one year ago today, I could be found in Coventry, England realizing a 25-year dream: To visit the place where Triumph cars were built.

The factory at Canley is long gone. In its place is large industrial park. In spending an afternoon walking around this large complex, I could see only three buildings with any connection to Triumph: A small ivy covered cottage near the train station with yellow sign over the gate that said “Triumph House,” a huge warehouse with UNIPART on the sign and the Triumph factory’s social and recreation club, still with the original sign over the doorway. It’s now a bingo hall, and there is not even a picture of a Triumph car on any of the walls.

There were other reminders of activities that took place on those grounds — hallowed grounds, to me — from 1923-1980, the years Triumph cars were built on the site. In front of a daycare center, there was the bright silver Standard-Triumph monument, and the streets were named after cars. There was Herald Avenue, Spitfire Close, Vanguard Way, Dolomite Avenue and others.

I stayed at a small bed-and breakfast not far from Canley. The proprietor, a youngish lady from a different part of England, asked why in the world would an American want to spend a week in Coventry. I explained that I collect and restore Triumph cars, which used to be built there. She probably thought I was a bit odd, but, she never let on.

In walking around the old Triumph grounds, it occurred to me that the thousands of employees who built our TRs and Spitfires, Stags and Heralds, likely had no idea they were doing anything special. They were just going to work and doing their jobs. They could not know that decades later, people in other parts of the world would give up weeks of their lives and drive hundreds of miles to convene in far away hotel parking lots to celebrate their work.

But that’s what we are doing here this week in Valley Forge. I look out at a parking lot and see nearly 300 Triumphs, some in pristine, concours condition, some daily drivers, and others pretty beat up. But they are all loved.

You can’t say that about 99 percent of all Toyotas ever built.

Here at the VTR are some of the most gorgeous TR6s I’ve ever seen, including a blue 1972 car with Lucas fuel injection. There’s a museum quality red TR5, left-hand drive, a stunning laurel green 1970 Spitfire, two mint condition Triumph Italias, two prewar Triumphs, a Gloria and a Southern Cross, a red Herald wagon, 20 Stags, a pair of race-prepared GT6s and numerous TR3s that look so clean they could have been transported through time directly from a 1960 showroom.

I listen to the Triumphs driving by and hear the unmistakable rasp of a TR6 or the rumble of a Triumph-powered Stag. I think of the dads and sons in their garages all over the U.K. and USA restoring their Triumphs. I see the enthusiasm of the people here at the VTR convention. Once again, I think of the workers who built our cars. They should be proud for building a brand of cars that move people in so many ways today.

The factory may be gone. The name may be owned and forever mothballed by BMW. And two generations of drivers may have never even heard of our cars. But that doesn’t matter.

As Triumph owners and enthusiasts, we are the custodians of the Triumph brand, not BMW. As long as we keep our cars running and use them and show them off, we honor the workers that built them, and, more importantly, Triumph lives.