I am a 54 year old guy from North Carolina, in “the states” who stumbled across your website one night and devoured it in a sitting. It’s just wonderful. You must have incredible perseverance to have tracked down all of your memorabilia. I was unaware of almost all of it. 
           Your site brought back a flood of memories from a long ago Christmas. Bear with me, please. As I’m sure you know, we got the show somewhat later than you did in the U.K. The year was either ’62 or ’63 when it premiered in the tiny little town of Elizabeth City, N.C., televised from Norfolk, Virginia, which was some 60 miles away. Despite the grainy black and white picture, my friends and I were instantly smitten…I especially so. It quickly became my very favorite show, and I rushed home from school every day to sit mesmerized, as I watched it. But, related merchandise - as was common in those days - was nonexistent, outside of a few Dell comics. 
              Imagine my excitement, then, when the Sears & Roebuck “Wish book” came in the mail, one day, featuring a picture of the Remco version of “Supercar.” It was the one and only request I made for Christmas that year – sort of like that kid in “A Christmas Story”. Only my story did not have quite so happy an ending – initially, that is. Demand for these toys must have been very high, because my Dad looked high and low, but he finally located one somewhere in Virginia. In the meantime, I had taken a small “Indy” style plastic racecar, and - using a razor blade, along with an MPC plastic tent - fashioned a winged and finned homemade version of “Supercar” to carry me over until Christmas. 
            Christmas morning finally arrived, I rabidly tore the box open to get to my prize, and…unfortunately, was somewhat disappointed by what I found inside. I quickly covered my reaction, so as not to disappoint my very special Father, who had taken such time and care to find it.
             My problem, I guess, was that it just didn’t look any thing like “Supercar,” to me. My homemade version was a much better facsimile.
              Pop never knew about my “surprise” reaction to his gift. I eventually gutted it, stripped all of the gear off of the bottom and subsequently fashioned a makeshift “smooth” one. I even used “sticker” style letters to spell out “Supercar” on this crude bottom. Thus acclimated to its appearance, “Supercar” became my favorite toy in all the world, despite its aesthetic drawbacks. I played with it so long and so hard that it fell into such a state of disrepair that it eventually became broken and lost (or surreptitiously discarded by my Mom.) It became, then, just one of many forgotten, formerly beloved toys.
               I hadn’t even seen a picture of one in over forty years, until I ran across your site. Then there it was…as orange and ungainly as ever. It sure was a sight for sore eyes. A lonely little tear dribbled down my aged cheek. 
               Thanks to your site, my ancient Christmas story has a brand new happy ending. Because of you, you see, I managed to locate the Product Enterprises, joyously exact replica of “Supercar”, and purchased one. It is sitting right beside my computer, Mike Mercury at the controls, as she blasts off.  I am referring to her constantly, as I write this - the best Christmas toy I ever got…Forty-three years later.
                Good luck in pursuit of your hobby - if that is a suitable enough word for what you’ve accomplished - and thanks, ever so much, for the memories.   

                                                                                                                                              Bud Wright

A Christmas Wish