All language subtitles for Jeff.Dunhams.The.Cars.That.Drove.Us.S01E01.Vector.W8.1080p.DISC.WEB-DL.H264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

Hi, everyone.
Jeff Dunham and Bubba J here

at Dunham Family Motors.

Hi, everybody in TV land.

This next car is what happens
when someone builds a vehicle

with no oversight
and a whiteboard that just

says, "Yes."

It has the attitude of a black
ops project, the silhouette of

a stealth fighter,
and the kind of cockpit

that makes you say,
"Should I even be in here?"

The car is a legend,
but the story is even better.

How about this?

Our unbelievable 1 of 17

W8 First American supercar--
The Vector.

Throughout time, humanity has
been obsessed with getting

places using anything
but their own two feet.

We've tried all kinds
of things.

Until finally,
the greatest invention

of all time, the automobile.

Moron!

These are
the cars that drove us.

Ah, Europe in the '70s,

a sophisticated hotbed of art,

cuisine, culture,

and...

...speed.

Lamborghini Countach,
Alfa Romeo, Ferrari,

Maserati, Jaguar.

Not to be outdone,
Americans stood toe to toe

with art, cuisine, and culture.

But when it came to speed...

In the United States,
we've had fascinating design,

but in the 1970s, we had
55 mile an hour speed limits.

And there were fuel economy
standards,

there were emission standards,
crash regulations.

Safety first...

- Yeah.
- ...made America...

last.

We have the highest
technology.

We put people in space.

We build the fighter aircraft
the rest of the world wants.

Why can't America have
their own exotic sports car?

Well, we actually did.
And it was...

Built like a jet fighter
as exotic as they come.

That's right.
The Vector W8.

A car that the rules
didn't apply to.

Mostly because...

It wasn't designed
to be an automobile.

It was designed to be
aircraft or spacecraft.

And if that doesn't make any
sense, it's because it doesn't.

Because Vector visionary
Jerry Wiegert

and his automotive accomplices
made their own rules.

We just had
different priorities.

Leaving some to wonder if
these car men were con men.

But Jerry didn't
let that stop him.

If he just set out to do
something, he would just do it.

So when it came to getting
this jet-fighting, space-faring

supercar to take off,
how did Jerry just do it?

Well, as most American
automotive stories do,

this one begins
in the Motor City.

Jerry grew up
in the Detroit area.

He was a really creative guy.
Think outside of the box.

So he ended up doing
an internship

with General Motors,
that made him realize

he didn't really want to work

for a giant corporation
taking orders.

He had this dream of building
an American supercar

that could compete with
Ferrari or Lamborghini.

Which is easier
said than done.

One of the hardest things
I think you can do in the world

is start a car company.

And he didn't have a lot of
financial resources himself.

Some people might say that
you need a little narcissism.

Or in Jerry's case...

carcissism.

He had a ton of confidence,
and he believed

that he could make this car
come into production.

He was a showman.

He knew how to
attract attention.

And Jerry's
best marketing angle

was a literal angle.

Jerry came up
with the name, "Vector."

But at this point,
the Vector was only

highly performing on paper.

Need a car.

And he'd get one
by partnering with Lee Brown,

who customized the iconic
'68 Mustang GT

in the Steve McQueen classic,
"Bullitt."

While Lee worked on the mock-up,
Jerry got the word out.

Hawking it just like
in Barnum and Bailey.

And while it may not
have been the circus,

the '72 LA Auto Expo was
the perfect place to debut

Jerry and Lee's engineless
Vector mock-up shell.

But that's all it was.
It was a mock-up.

The mock-up
definitely turned heads.

But as the attention
was heating up,

Jerry and Lee's partnership
was cooling down.

Both guys had the same big ego
and wanted to claim

the ownership of the project,
so that mock-up

got taken by Lee Brown.

Leaving Jerry...

- Need a car.
- There's no cars left.

...right back
where he started.

Jerry still owned
the Vector name and design,

but with no mock-up, this motor
was trending downward.

And after several years of
no car, Jerry kind of dropped

a little bit off
the radar screen.

The Vector was starting
to feel more like vapor.

2
Without a proof-of-concept
mock-up to drum up

investment capital,
Jerry Wiegert's Vector project

was nearly dead.

But then he met this man.

I changed my name since
the original days of Vector.

But now he goes by Rob Portil.

I was making a lot of money
in real estate at the time,

so I put essentially
the first money in the company,

and we formed
Vector Aeromotive Corporation.

Jerry now had
the funds to do one better

than Lee Brown's mock-up shell
and instead built

a fully-functional
Vector prototype.

The most innovative thing
about the car was that whole

use of aerospace technology.

Right down to
the Vector's chassis.

The semi-monocoque aluminum
honeycomb chassis.

Uh, spell check, please.

Semi-monocoque aluminum
honeycomb chassis.

So, what exactly is

a sell-my-lama-cocka-million
honeycrumb-jazzy?

Think of two skins
of aluminum,

maybe three-quarters
of an inch apart,

and then there's a honeycomb
of aluminum in between the two.

It's really,
really innovative.

And Dave Kostka knows
innovation when he sees it.

After all, he's an engineer.

I was living
not that far from Venice,

where the Vector Project
was taking place.

I went by there,
and they had pushed the car

out of the garage.

And then he saw it.
- Oh.

You know, the, uh,
that thing.

Aluminum honeycomb
monocoque chassis.

Which made his heart
skip a beat.

Wow, what a cool place
to work.

So then Jerry Wiegert comes
out, and next thing I knew...

Jerry hired
this random guy

off the street to sweep
the floors or something?

- No, no.
- Uh.

- Jerry's assistant?
- No, VP of engineering.

I was volunteering
60 hours a week

on top of my 40-hour-a-week job,
and I was glad to do it.

And good thing, too,
because the Vector prototype's

development had already burned
through all the seed money

put up by Rob Portil.

Luckily, he had an elite
secret weapon up his sleeve.

Wealthy individuals.

The main source of funds
was deposits for cars.

Are these cars
in the room with us now, Dave?

And so Jerry had to put that

patented Wiegert
marketing magic to work.

The primary reason
the Vector was designed

was to be a challenge
to European dominance

of the exotic car,
luxury car market segment.

The fastest European cars
were 175, 180-mile-an-hour cars.

Could we build the first
real 200-mile-an-hour vehicle?

Well, could they?

For us to get the kind
of horsepower we needed

to get out of this engine,
we were using aircraft turbos.

That, coupled with
the lightweight of the semi...

...could potentially get
them up to those speeds.

Nobody's ever done it
before on, like,

a production street-driven car.

But Jerry was
a very special salesman

with a very special pitch.

It's a very special machine
for a very special person.

And very special people began

placing very special deposits

of over $100,000.

The number one car
was an ex-Saudi prince.

And the second order came
from another Saudi prince.

That oil money does run deep.

Third order came from
a wealthy American businessman.

Which allowed this less-wealthy
American businessman

to finally finish his prototype.

Jerry christened
his supercar the Vector W2.

The W was for Wiegert.

And went into
marketing overdrive.

He maximized
his press coverage,

and there was this sensation
created that the Vector

was a real car
and in production.

There was only one.

We just painted it
a lot of different colors.

In fact, there were journalists
that made fun of us.

They go,
"Oh, they're trying to pretend

there's a lot
of different cars."

They said that
because you were Rob,

and you could forgive them
for wondering if there was

some other pretending going on.

Vector was on the cover
of "Car and Driver,"

but the guy who wrote the story
didn't get a chance

to drive the car because, while
the styling was almost complete,

the mechanicals were
not all that complete.

And the claims, well,
we'd seen them already before.

600-plus horsepower
and potential top speeds

in excess of 200-miles-per-hour.

And you just wondered,

"Hey, man, you going
to build some cars?"

Things came to a head
with a 1987 write-up

in "Autoweek," 15 years
after Jerry had first conceived

of his fighter jet
for the streets.

The guy blasted us,

saying that "This is
never going to happen.

It's all a big
scam, it's a con."

It was not flattering,
and it characterized Jerry

as somebody
who was raising money

but never gonna produce cars.

2
It was clear that Jerry needed
help getting this fighter jet

for the streets off the ground.

So he found
a fighter jet manufacturer

from Northrop Grumman.

I was working on the F/A-18
and F-5 fighter program.

And he was used to
managing production.

Something Jerry...

You gonna build some cars?

...could use some advice on.

I said, "Not only are you not
ready for production,

I don't think you really
understand what it is."

But doing things Mark's way?

Rent facilities, hire people,
set up benefits packages,

accounting system,
tooling, equipment.

Would be more expensive.

Through the '80s,
the total amount we'd raised

was less than a million.

So Vector Aeromotive
went to the capital

of investment capital.

The stock market.

Jerry found an underwriter
to take us public.

Blinder, Robinson & Co.
had 2,000 brokers.

They were the biggest
penny stock firm in the country.

He was very good
at manipulating stock.

- Say what?
- You know, we knew this.

That's OK.

Ah, stop
while you're ahead, Rob.

Jeez, man, does your lawyer
know you're here?

They basically launched
an IPO, and that was

the startup money.

At the time we got funded,
we had promised

the shareholders that we'd have

the first production car
done in a year.

So all the team had to do
was dust off the original plans

and see which components
needed to be--

- There were no plans.
- Ugh, come on, guys.

- We're on a deadline here.
- That's-- that's pitiful.

They had to disassemble
the prototype

and lay the pieces
down on paper and trace them

and then make
a drawing out of it.

And by the time we were done
with that process,

it's like everything's
different from the W2.

We should just change
the model name.

So that's when we
came up with that...

W8.

Eight was the cylinder count
of the car.

Which still sounds like
the name of a tax form,

but whatever.

The important thing is,
Mark Bailey could finally

get started on what he
had been hired to do.

That is, if Jerry Wiegert
would let him.

Jerry and I got it at odds
from time to time

because we just had
differing priorities.

He had all kinds of
marketing campaigns.

Heads turn and eyes are
drawn to this distinctive car.

A restoration of a GMC motorhome
they wanted to use

to take to shows.

So he would borrow
my production personnel and work

on his motorhome for the day
without talking to me about it.

Which sounds like a pretty
dysfunctional way to work.

Especially now that there were
shareholders asking...

- You gonna build some cars?
- Mark was trying.

- Hm.
- That's a very complicated,

complex vehicle to manufacture.

Expensive, too,
which is why sometimes

a few corners had to be cut.

The gearbox for the Vector was
mated up to what was basically

the front-wheel-drive
transmission out of

the GMC motorhomes.

And since Jerry's motorhome
was off limits...

We went rummaging
through junkyards looking for

transmission castings to use
in the first couple cars.

It's not like we were ever
gonna let anybody know

where they came from.
- Sure, why not?

And it's highly doubtful that
this decision will come back

to haunt them at
the worst possible time.

Speaking of time...

We were scrambling
to finish the first cars.

The LA Auto Show
was the big unveiling.

And after almost 20 years,
the Vector was finally

on the market.
Price tag in today's money?

Over $1 million.

It was literally
what Jerry envisioned.

Aerospace technology
for the street.

It had a screen on the left
side of the steering wheel,

and it had a little set
of buttons to change the view.

You could look at the chassis
and see if anything was open.

You'd see your speedometer
on another screen.

And as you speed up
and accelerate,

that whole bar graph moves.

All aircraft circuit breakers.

Every one of these push buttons
in the dash are right out of

the cockpit of a military
fighter aircraft.

Loud.

And don't forget the, um, the...

Semi-monocoque aluminum
honeycomb chassis.

So a bunch of these things
that, to us at Vector,

seemed like logical things
to do, Jerry was pioneering.

But he was still
far behind on one thing.

And so the first Vector
production car,

serial number 001, was finally
delivered to its Saudi prince.

I believe it was about
a 10-year cycle from the time

he made his investment.

And soon enough, even more
of those aforementioned...

- Wealthy individuals
- ...started lining up

to kick the tires.
But billionaires weren't

the only ones lining up
for joyrides.

Of course, then all the car
magazines wanted to come

and do a story.

Automotive journalist
Csaba Csere

would be getting behind
the wheel to test

the Vector's performance claims.
At least, that was the plan.

Suddenly, the transmission
is packed up.

The engine was still
running fine, but no matter

what gear you selected,
the car is coasting.

At that point,
pulled over on the shoulder,

and there was a Vector guy
with me, a guy named Kostka.

- Oh, this guy?
- Really?

I haven't had
that problem before.

The front-wheel drive
transmission out of

the GMC motorhomes.

Motorhomes.
Motorhomes.

Luckily, there were
two cars available that day.

We called them
Pre-Production 1 and 2.

They kind of got nicknamed
PP1 and PP2.

Good thing, because David
was in deep poo poo.

And so we proceeded
with the second car.

But as soon as we started
some of the acceleration runs,

the car started overheating.
- What?

There was steam wafting out of
the various grilles behind me.

I'm thinking this car is
just, you know, half-baked.

Nope.
It's fully toasted.

2
With two broken cars,
Csaba Csere's road test

of the Vector W8
for "Car and Driver" magazine

had hit the skids.

We couldn't get a test done.

And Jerry says,
"You know, stay another day.

We'll get the car fixed."

But I was on a flight
the next morning.

Sorry, Jer.

So I go back to my hotel.

And Dave went back to
the shop to check on PP1,

or was it 2?

I get a call at 2:30 AM,

No such thing as
a good phone call at 2:30 AM.

It's Jerry, and he says,
"We got a car together."

Yay.

And this time, the car
is running reasonably well.

I got a 0 to 60 of 3.8 seconds.

I got a quarter mile of 12 flat
at 118 miles an hour.

Which was nowhere near
the W8's reported top speed.

However...

The transmission
was acting up.

Again.

And it wouldn't shift
into third gear.

We potentially have a really
bad write-up coming here.

This is not good.

But it wasn't all bad either.

Based on that test,
the Vector, performance wise,

was in league with the two
fastest cars in the world,

the Porsche 959
and the Ferrari F40.

And when the write up
hit newsstands...

"A world wonder
or a great pretender?"

But at this point,
the Vector W8 needed

some definitively
positive optics.

And soon enough,
Jerry Wiegert found them.

Tennis pro
Andre Agassi bought a Vector.

It was not quite finished.
He wanted it right now.

Apparently, Jerry asked
the tennis pro not to drive it.

He took it for a spin,
and apparently the carpet

in the backend set a fire.

We didn't sell
another car after that,

so we were running out
of money at the same time,

and I left the company.

And with the tenure
of his captain's cut shorts,

eh, short, Jerry was left all
alone atop a crumbling empire.

But Jerry's joyride
wasn't over yet.

An Indonesian firm called
Megatech came along.

Megatech, Megatech.

An investment group
so mega loaded...

They bought Lamborghini.

And they basically
told Jerry, "If you make

"your production numbers,
we will continue to invest.

If not, we're going to
take the company."

But this was the moment
he had been training for

his whole life.

And with the fresh infusion

of Megatech's
investment capital...

Jerry did not make
the production numbers,

and they tried
to take over the company.

Megascrewed.
Megascrewed. Megascrewed.

And as the Vector board
prepared to vote

on Jerry's ouster,
he hatched a plan.

Jerry essentially
barricaded himself into

the Wilmington facility.

Then he just hired
a security service.

They called it
the Waco of the West.

Not the best look when
the press compares you to

the wacko from Waco.

The standoff dragged
on for six months

until a judge ruled
in Megatech's favor.

Corporate law says
the board has control.

Jerry was finally
removed by sheriffs.

And just like that,
the joyride was over.

Megatech took over
the company.

We could sell
this car for less

if we run the Lamborghini engine
and drivetrain.

Now it was not the all-American
supercar anymore,

and so they had trouble
selling cars.

And then a bunch of money
turned up missing,

and the whole thing collapsed.

And guess who was there
to pick up the pieces?

Jerry was excited to get
Vector back in court.

And then Jerry
launched another attempt.

But his WX8 would never
make it past prototype.

Unfortunately, he was diagnosed
with stage four cancer.

In January 2021,
at the age of 76,

Jerry took his final flight

into the vast
blue highway in the sky.

Three days before he died,
he was talking about going to

the Middle East to finish WX8.

A consummate salesman
to the very end.

People might look at Jerry
and think, 20 years developing

the Vector was ridiculous,
but it's also spectacular.

We should applaud his audacity.

I think a lot of people
would have given up.

We're trying to do
what any car company has

like 500 people doing,
and we're like two people

doing that amount of work.

Jerry and his small
band of upstarts

took on the European giants

in the most
American way possible.

Doing it cooler, doing it
better, doing it faster.

But wait, did they go faster?

We actually never
broke 200 in them.

We got 198, 199.

Well, at least it
topped 200 in one way.

I watched the temperature
gauge went up to 250.

And if the ride was bumpy,

it was only because the Vector
was blazing a new trail.

It's a fighter jet plane
on wheels.

It's just flat-out badass.

But you know,
I can't help but wonder,

maybe it was just
a little bit ahead of its time.

This does not feel
like a '90s car at all.

This thing could
have been built today.

It really does feel like that.

In other words,
it might have been just

a little bit too much too soon.

And there could be anything
more American than that.

It did make a mark on history.

It's a little smaller
than we would have liked,

but it's there.

This is the Vector.

The very first true
American supercar.

I'll kill you!