Over the years I've met countless engineers, designers, marketing peeps, and, of course, PR reps, and it's rare that (PRs aside) I find myself quite so taken with them as I was with Charles Morgan.
Morgan, who has been involved in the family business since 1985, is a very well-to-do sort of chap. Where most would expect a car company boss to be a stern type, I found a man with a boyish grin and a glint in his eye. Keen to natter about the industry and Morgan's place in it (often with candor), I got the impression that despite being born with petrol seeping through every pore, he's ready to take on the world only as a Brit can: with a grin and a "can-do" attitude.
His presence on Twitter confirms that he's got a sense of humor -- a bonus -- but also keeping an eye on the future. While sat in his office (which he fondly calls "the sauna" because it's bloody hot), he fondly remembers conversations with his father about moving the brand into the 20th century with a bonded aluminum chassis -- essentially gluing bits of aluminum together. He was tickled by his father's negative take on pritt sticking a car together yet persevered.
Being one of the "early adopters" of magnesium chassis bonding is a point of pride for Morgan -- his cars may look ye olde world but have the strongest, most advanced underpinnings available.
When we spoke to Morgan about his own Aeromax, his face seemed to light up. His car, 1 percent of the world's production run, is his daily driver. He freely admits to using it for the weekly shop and that he loves the attention it gets. He knows he's sitting on a thing of beauty and that only the hardiest of chaps can ignore its beauty.
The Aeromax's story is the one we're telling today, but it's the man behind it that makes it so special. So, audience, here's to Charles Morgan; he's the one who sits in his sauna and helps create some of the finest cars in the world.