He hired drivers by handshake. I do not recall a lawyer ever being involved in negotiations or contracts. His personal charm and persuasive cajoling brought every star sooner or later behind the wheel of a Porsche racing car for very little money. I remember him trying to get Jackie Stewart to race for Porsche in Le Mans. "Well" Jackie said on the phone, "What are you offering me Huschke?" "Offering? You mean money? But Jackie, it is an honor to drive for us". Jackie chuckled and declined, but few stars did. Huschke invented the company racing and spending philosophy: "We are the biblical David (small) pitched against the biblical Goliath (big) like Mercedes, Ford, Ferrari, GM. We are small but we have guts to lay it on the line against the big guys". We hammered that point home in every press release. I can hear him now talking to the legendary Mercedes PR Director Artur Keser. "Arturo, Arturo, you know we are sooooo small compared to you. You can entertain all the journalists in big style, while we out here in the suburbs have to make do. We just have to be more original and come up with better ideas to make up for it". Part of that was an act, but part of it was true, Huschke tried to fulfill big aspirations for Porsche on a very small budget.

He once flew out to the Helsinki Autoshow where all the big car companies gave lavish parties for the worldwide automobile press. Knowing he could not compete on that level, he was trying to think up something that would make journalists remember the occasion. So he held the Porsche press conference in a Finnish sauna, inviting everybody afterwards to roll with him in the snow stark naked. Upon his return he told me that there now was an occasion where female PR persons were a handicap. When he promoted me at a very young age to head the Porsche Press department and I voiced my concern about being female in such a male-dominated business, he waved it all aside. "If you do a good job, they'll get used to it". With this attitude he was way ahead of his time. He took me along to the various receptions held by the big car companies on press day at the Paris Auto Salon in 1965. Some were for 'gentlemen only' (the female PR invasion into the automobile industry was still a decade away). This did not deter him from walking in everywhere and introducing me in the most flattering terms, pointing to my extreme youth in such a job as an asset. It was a heady experience and something to live up to. He walked into cocktail parties without an invitation and balked at putting on a nametag. Everyone recognized him, "The Baron is here" they whispered. While he worked the room, embracing people left and right and complimenting them on their ties or their new car designs in four languages, he picked a little food here and there from somebody's plate and puffed quickly on a cigarette which he lit by holding it away from him over a candle. In this way we breezed through fifteen receptions including Renault, Mercedes, Peugeot, Fiat, Volkswagen etc. etc. in about two hours.

His own home served as a hotel and restaurant to drivers, journalists and assorted 'beautiful people' from the jet set. Ursula, his elegant wife, was a trooper par excellence. Each day, around 6:00 P.M. he used to call her from the office, letting her know that he would bring five important American Journalists home for dinner within the hour. "Just throw some strawberries and sliced bread on our antique silver, they will be impressed". The elegant parties he and Ursula gave before the Solitude Race every July became legendary. From Stirling Moss to Sir Jack Brabham, from Gunther Sachs to the King of Spain, from David E. Davis to Bernard Cahier, everybody who was anybody in the motor racing world gathered to sip Camparis on hot summer nights at the Kraeherwald.

On Thursday afternoons he used to leave for the races after a hectic morning of dishing out non-stop instructions. Exhaustedly and anxiously we waited for his departure and for a moment of peace. Seeing his orange Carrera leave the parking lot caused a sigh of relief which could be heard on two floors. We practically sank into our chairs catching our breath knowing that the first phone call from the airport would come the moment he hit the terminal. (Imagine him in a world of cell phones…). Often he asked us to page him there over the loudspeaker, "Porsche Rennleiter von Hanstein to the phone please". He loved it. Porsche was in the news, the people of Stuttgart knew he was flying out to a race, PR at every level.

The Racing Baron: Page 4