As far back as he can remember, Henning Burr has always been a Mercedes fan. His father got him hooked at an early age, and as a Mercedes mechanic, it only makes sense that Henning, too, would follow in his footsteps. His father taught him the ins and outs of wrenching, and capped it with a familiar sentiment: “Henning, you would make me proud if you also drove a Mercedes.” It’s safe to say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Three years ago, on a cool summer Friday night, I stood in the garage, tinkering under the hood of a BMW while my roommates threw a bit of a house party. Just me and a few friends, polishing up parts to escape the blaring music and obnoxious college drunks. Amidst the chit chat, over what exactly I fail to remember, two young guys walked up, eager to see what we were up to. “We saw the party and figured it was okay to walk up.