More people should know Scott Hansen.

That’s why I’m sharing this conversation with you.

Scott Hansen

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I’ve known Scott Hansen for several years through the Porsche Club.

I knew him as the guy who always seemed to be helping somebody.

The guy who was involved.

The guy who showed up.

I knew he was the president of Florida Citrus Region-PCA, and I knew people respected him. But if I’m being honest, I didn’t really know Scott.

So when I had the opportunity to sit down and really talk with him, I wanted to find out what was underneath all of that.

What I discovered surprised me.

This wasn’t really a conversation about Porsche.

And it wasn’t really about cars.

It was about people.

It was about friendship, service, memories, and what a person hopes they’ve left behind when they look back on their life.

And the more Scott talked, the more I realized something.

This was a man worth knowing.

More people should know Scott Hansen

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The First Handshake

There was one part of our conversation that stayed with me long after the interview was over.

Scott told me that whenever someone joins the Porsche Club of America, he receives a notification.

Scott,

“When a new member joins, I receive an alert from PCA National. The first thing I do is send them a personal welcome letter.

Not a form letter.

Not an automated email.

A personal letter.

Then, when I finally meet them, I usually tell them, ‘You have no idea what you’re about to experience.’

The people in this club love each other. They travel together. They vacation together. They celebrate weddings, graduations, birthdays… and they stand beside each other during life’s hardest moments too.

You’ve joined something that’s so much more than a car club.”

My first thought was …

This was Scott’s first handshake — the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

This guy really cares about people.

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Friendship

One of the first questions I asked Scott was what made Porsche so different from other automotive marques.

His answer surprised me.

Not because he talked about Porsche.

Because he talked about people.

Scott paused for a moment before answering.

Then he smiled.

Scott,

“I think different auto brands attract different personalities. But I would say the Porsche brand attracts a very specific kind of person.

I’ve always thought Porsche was kind of a no-nonsense brand. The cars reflect that. They’re straightforward, very competent, and down to business. I think it attracts people who appreciate quality, attention to detail, and who tend to be driven, no matter what profession they’re in.

I was recently at the Porsche Parade with more than a thousand people, and I spent time talking with many of them. Everybody you meet—even if you’ve never met them before—you feel right at home because you can tell you have so much in common.

There’s almost a baked-in compatibility. If you’re a Porsche person, it’s almost an indicator that I’m pretty sure we’re going to get along. I don’t know of many things in life that are that strong of an indicator.”

The sound of his voice convinced me of his sincerity.

I think you’ll discover that as well.

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Serving Others

The more Scott talked, the more I began to notice a pattern.

His friendships had a way of leading him toward other people who needed a hand.

One of those friendships was with Karyn Rinaldi, a retired U.S. Navy Lieutenant Commander, past president of the Porsche Club of Florida Citrus Region, and the current PCA Zone 12 Representative. As Scott spoke about Karyn, it was obvious how much respect he had for her. Through their friendship, she introduced him to another opportunity to serve.

Scott:

“I do everything I can to support veterans and the people currently serving. Karyn, who is an incredible volunteer for the Porsche Club, is also a major volunteer for Honor Flights.

Honor Flights is an organization that takes World War II, Korean, and Vietnam veterans to Washington, D.C., at no expense to the veteran, so they can visit the memorials built in their honor. It’s often called ‘one last mission,’ especially for the World War II and Korean War veterans because many of them are now close to one hundred years old.

Because of my relationship with Karyn through the Porsche Club, she introduced me to Honor Flights. I don’t know if I would have ever figured out how to get involved if it hadn’t been for her.

That has become as rewarding as anything I’ve ever done.”

Then Scott smiled and added…

Scott:

“Porsche has introduced me to other things as well.”

I smiled back.

“Scott, I know the Florida Citrus Region has supported the Russell Home for years. Tell me about that.”

Scott:

“There’s an organization called the Russell Home for Atypical Children that I’ve now visited about ten times.

They don’t receive any state, federal, or local funding, and that gives them a lot of flexibility in the way they operate.

The place was founded over seventy-five years ago by a grandmother who began taking in children who had been abandoned because they had severe medical or mental disabilities. She never collected a dime.

Many of those same children are now in their sixties and seventies, and they’re still living there today.

Our Florida Citrus Region has been supporting the Russell Home for many years, raising significant funds to help care for what they still affectionately call ‘their kids,’ even though some of them are older than I am.

When I think about the impact those dollars have made over the years, I realize it’s probably one of the most unheralded things our club does. We talk about it when we release our annual charity calendar, and then people move on. But I can assure you… the Russell Home never forgets.

When we arrive there, they know who we are. They know why we’re there. And they know people haven’t forgotten them.”

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Memories Worth Keeping

I asked Scott if there had ever been a Porsche moment he knew he’d never forget—not because of the car, but because of the people.

He smiled almost immediately.

Scott:

“It’s absolutely my most vivid Porsche memory. I don’t know if it could ever be equaled.

At the time, I didn’t know Steve Hoffman very well, and I didn’t know you personally until I drove over to your studio to talk about the photo shoot. We got along right away. I loved your studio, and I loved all the photographs hanging on the walls.

Steve worked for NASA, so he’d been to Kennedy Space Center countless times. For you and me, though, it was something we’d never experienced.

After making our way through security, we drove out along the crawlerway toward the launch pad. The three of us were in Steve’s Cayenne, talking the whole way.

When we finally arrived, we climbed out of the vehicle and walked beneath the launch pad, standing in the middle of the flame trench.

We’d been talking nonstop for the entire drive… but when we got out of the car, nobody said a word.

I don’t think any of us spoke for five minutes.

We just stood there looking up.

Then it hit me. Once upon a time, directly above where we were standing, a Saturn V rocket carrying the Apollo 11 astronauts had begun its journey to the moon.

Standing there, it struck me that I never would have been in that exact place if it hadn’t been for Porsche. There isn’t another thing in my life that would have brought the three of us together in that place.

The day just got better. We did the photo shoot. Ray loaned me his sunglasses. I wore my Beatles shirt—one of my favorite shirts—and then, as we were getting ready to leave, Steve asked how we were planning to head home.

Ray said he was heading back to Cocoa Beach. I was going toward Titusville and Orlando. Steve smiled and said, ‘Why don’t we take the beach road? It’s where the astronauts used to race their Corvettes.’

We all climbed back into our cars, and just before we pulled away, Steve looked over and said…

‘Alright, you boys… try to keep up.’

I still have those photographs hanging on my wall.

Someday, somebody’s going to look at them and think…

‘How in the world did that happen?'”

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The Measure of a Life

Before we finished, I had one last question.

“Scott, when people remember you twenty years from now, what do you hope they’ll remember?”

He smiled.

Then, almost apologetically, he answered.

Scott:

“I hope they’ll remember that I was dedicated to the people I cared for.

That sounds a little like a Hallmark card…” (he laughed).

“But throughout my career, if you were on my team, you knew I had your back. I expected a lot from people, but I always had their back.

I hope people remember me as someone who created opportunities for them. Maybe that meant helping them build a career. Maybe it meant helping them provide for their family. Maybe it simply meant helping them achieve their dreams.

I love to help. I don’t want to say ‘promote’ because that sounds too businessy. I just love helping people I care about.

I don’t have children, so over the years my focus has changed. Today, I want to create memorable experiences for people—things they’ll still remember twenty years from now.

When people look back, I hope they remember that I helped them succeed… whether it was in business, in retirement, with their family, or through a hobby they loved.

That I supported them every chance I had.”

I smiled.

Because I couldn’t let him get away with calling it a Hallmark card.

“Scott… it’s not like you do it on purpose. That’s just who you are.”

He smiled back,

“I’d like to think so.”

There was a brief pause.

“I hope so.”