CarPort

Back in February when we explored the world of sedan delivery automobiles, we made mention of a rumored 1950 Oldsmobile delivery, and found a picture of one on the web.
Fred Summers, our resourceful St. Louis bureau chief, remembered he had once seen another, and he’s just sent some photos.

One day he was driving a blue highway through Utah, and came across a building that advertised vehicle storage. Fred being the inquisitive type, he stopped to take a look. Hiding amongst a gaggle of Opels was this 1950 Olds sedan delivery, in process of restoration. Its owner repeated the same story, that it was a prototype built as a feasibility study and was the only one produced, echoing the information we found in the Standard Catalog of American Light Duty Trucks.

Apparently it had been stored by a gentleman from “up east,” who fell behind in his rent. The landlord eventually took title, in exchange for the back rent plus some cash, and commenced to restore it. Fred notices that its taillight orifices are of the sort used on the Model 76 Olds, rather than the 88 type, and indeed its front fender is devoid of trim, so it’s undoubtedly a six-cylinder car. Interestingly, the steering column seems to have the quadrant for a Hydra-Matic transmission. We can’t say for sure whether this is the 1950 Olds sedan delivery, but it’s more likely that a utilitarian vehicle would have been built in the entry-level 76 series. Or did they actually build an 88 version, too, as a test of speedy delivery?

Those taillights, by the way, are a marked contrast from Pontiac’s
stalk-mounted lamps. The Chevrolet sedan delivery, on the other hand, had only a single taillight, of the rectangular design used on the pickup.

It’s an uncanny coincidence that we learn GM is reinventing the sedan delivery – after a fashion. The 2007 Chevy HHR Panel, introduced at the South Florida International Auto Show in Miami Beach the week before last, is a throwback to the panel truck and sedan delivery of half a century ago. Basically an HHR with blind rear quarters and no rear seat, it retains the rear side doors for ease of loading (and simplification of manufacture). In that respect it’s not a real sedan delivery and is more like the Dodge Caravan Cargo Van, a cargo modification of a vehicle designed for people moving. Still, it seems like a promising market segment. The Europeans have been using small vans, like the Citroën Berlingo and Ford Transit Connect, for decades.

Perhaps. The size and shape of the Antique Automobile Club of America’s Eastern Division National Fall Meet have been changing for nearly all the event’s 50-year history. Originally a field event, the swap meet and car show has increasingly been held in paved parking lots. This year vendors from the former grassy White Field were relocated, most of them to the parking lot outside the Giant Center. A few, however, were assigned to a new Orange Field, once the site of a golf course.

Asphalt paving has several virtues, among them the elimination of mud, but also some drawbacks, including runoff, sore feet and the radiation of heat on a hot day.

As always, variety abounded at this year’s “Hershey,” held October 3rd to 7th. One could buy a 1961 Plymouth with cross ram air, bodies old and new, the latter available in wood or steel. Mrs. Brewster, doyenne of Hershey 2005, was back with a heart-front sedan and buyers had a bumper crop of nerf protection devices from which to choose. In the southern section of the Red Field were Joel Horne and Randy Poole (right), tempting shoppers with a 1970 Imperial and a nose clip composed of various Chrysler Corporation parts.

In the car corral, now on the location of the old Blue and White Fields, were such diverse cars as a 1927 Jordan Tomboy and a 1962 Chrysler hearse. In the Green Field, the mating instinct of automobiles was demonstrated as a Renault mounted a Dort. The car show on Saturday morning took on an idyllic dimension, as autumn foliage contrasted with the green of the former golf course.

The show is one of the largest found anywhere, and always has unusual vehicles, this time a 1912 Tudhope and a 1960 Meteor, both Canadian-built. Unrestored cars have their own class, drawing the likes of a 1929 Nash and a 1926 Minerva sedan. There’s even a class for mini-bikes.

The weather was kinder this year than last, with rain falling only at night. By Saturday afternoon, though, vendors were holding close-out sales and buyers were loading up their newly-bought treasures. As night fell, this Nash eight-cylinder engine was waiting for its new owner to return. While the moon set at dawn on Sunday, I hitched up my classic Shasta trailer and headed home to Connecticut.

Meet sponsor Hershey Region of AACA is at the mercy of Hershey Entertainment and Resorts, owner of the land. Present plans call for paving all areas by next year. If the scheme reaches fruition, it really will be the end of Hershey as we have known it.

Henry Ford’s interest in self-propelled vehicles was partially born of his dislike for farm work. It’s no surprise, then, that after putting America on wheels with an inexpensive passenger car, the Model T Ford, he started to build tractors. In 1917, with his son Edsel he founded a new company, Henry Ford & Son, which produced its first gasoline-powered tractor toward the end of the year. The name “Fordson” was chosen for the new machine because another party was already building Ford tractors in Minnesota. Ford knew there would be a ready market for his tractor as several aftermarket entrepreneurs were already selling conversion kits for Model Ts.

The Fordson Model F followed Model T practice in having an L-head four-cylinder engine, at 251 cubic inches about 40 percent larger than the T powerplant. It used thermosyphon cooling, a gravity feed fuel tank located over the engine, a low-tension flywheel-mounted magneto with trembler coils, the latter mounted in a box on the left side of the engine. It was the first tractor to use engine and transmission castings as the vehicle’s chassis. The Fordson departed from Model T practice, though, in having a sliding gear transmission with a multiplate clutch rather than a planetary drive train. Initially there were no brakes, but in 1923 a transmission-mounted multiplate brake was added. A high-tension magneto was a popular aftermarket accessory, as was a water pump. Fordsons were manufactured at Dearborn and later at the River Rouge plant until 1928.

Ironically, the Fordson had a longer life abroad. Manufacture was initiated at Cork, Ireland, in 1919, and continued until 1932, at which time Ford’s new English plant at Dagenham, Essex, took over. A new model, the N, was introduced in 1928, with a larger bore engine, high-tension magneto, water pump and axle brakes. This continued in production until the end of World War II.

Whereas in America Ford tractors had experienced a hiatus from for more than ten years until the all-new 9N Ford tractor was introduced in 1939, in Britain there was no letup. At war’s end, further updates were introduced on the E27N Fordson Major, still very much a Fordson but with a higher stance, single-plate oil-filled clutch, optional electric starting and lighting, and hydraulic drawbar. A six-cylinder Perkins diesel engine became available in 1948. The E27N remained in production until replaced by the E1A New Fordson Major in 1952. Thus the Model T of tractors, which had lasted barely a decade in the United States, managed a 33-year run abroad.

On October 29,1959, Chrysler Corporation entered the compact car sweepstakes with Valiant, intended as a corporate competitor to Ford’s
Falcon and Chevy’s Corvair. The Big Three automakers thus served notice that American Motors and Studebaker would not have this new market segment to themselves.

In contrast to the rather bland styling of Falcon and Corvair, and AMC and Studebaker’s use of old tooling, Chrysler offered a distinctive car styled by Virgil Exner, reminiscent of his 1950s Ghia-built d’Elegance in both front and rear aspects. Powered by the new slant six engine, Valiant used Chrysler’s hallmark pushbutton control transmission or, if a manual gearbox was fitted, a nifty floor shift. An industry first was the use of an alternator for better low-speed charging of the battery. In addition to the four-door sedan, a four-door wagon was offered. Bodies, as nearly all 1960 Mopars, were unitary and dipped for rust protection.

For 1961, Valiant got a new grille and a Plymouth badge – the car had been just “Valiant,” though sold by Plymouth dealers. 1961 also brought a smart two-door hardtop. Sales, though, were less than half of Falcon’s and somewhat behind Corvair. With the addition of intermediate-size cars by Ford and Chevy in 1962, Valiant fell even farther behind. When Exner styling was replaced for 1963 with the rectangular runes of Elwood Engel, however, sales improved, more so in 1964 and ‘65, by which time the distinctive “fishbowl-tail” Barracuda had been added as Plymouth’s ponycar contender.

The ‘Cuda took on a personality of its own in 1967, by which time a convertible and notchback hardtop coupe had joined the catalog. By 1969, Barracuda was a muscle car, available with engines as large as 383 cubic inches (from 1970, a 440 was available). The turning point in Valiant’s life, though was the introduction of the semi-fastback Duster coupe in 1970, which promptly captured 80 percent of production. The Duster remained the best-selling Valiant nearly to the end of production in 1976, when it was succeeded by the fairly forgetable Volare. Valiant had spawned an Australian offshoot, powered by the small block 273-cubic-inch V8, which had become a US option in 1964. Dodge dealers, too, wanted a Valiant, so a Lancer version was spun off for them in 1961 and ’62.

The homogenized post-1962 Valiants sold better than the early Exner-designed models, proving, perhaps, that blander is better. For a distinctive collector car, though, you could be well served by a 1960-62 Valiant, if you can find one.

The 1960 Valiant that tops this page is in the eclectic Virtual Salvage section of Sunman Classic Ford Supply in Seminole, Oklahoma. If you need a project car or parts, of FoMoCo or other make, contact them or check their inventory on line.

Autojumble, that is. Inspired by Hershey but not a clone of it, Autojumble was conceived and christened by Michael Ware, now the retired director of Britain’s National Motor Museum, in 1967. Held on the grounds of the Museum at Beaulieu, Hampshire, Autojumble opens for a weekend each September. This year’s event was the fortieth.

Smaller in size than Hershey, Autojumble offers convenient food and drink and amenities like free storage for one’s purchases and delivery of them to your car at the end of the day. The majority of Autojumble wares are parts, like engines, lenses, even a radiator for your Fournier cyclecar. There’s a section devoted to motorcycles, and plenty of accessories like lighting and picnic accoutrements. There are plentious cars, too, both life size (e.g. Bristol 401, Delage, and Stanley Steamer) and miniature (Chrysler Thunderbolt, Morgan trike, Bugatti and friends, even a few Tonkas).

There’s a section called Automart, near the Museum building. Roughly analagous to Hershey’s Car Corral, it was offering such delicacies as a rare Healey Sportsmobile, a delectable James Young fabric bodied Sunbeam, a Lanchester 14, and a newly-discovered Scimitar SSI. This caravan (camper) is a one-off, built in 1947 by aeronautical engineer William Leach, and a barn-fresh Morris Minor was a big hit. The Lada Niva was a Russian-built Fiat. If you couldn’t afford an SS100 Jaguar, you could build a reasonable replica.

A Bonhams auction has become a regular fixture of the weekend. Auctioneer James Knight coaxed winning bids for such treasures as a Renault Vivasix landaulette (£5,500) and an “Adenauer” Mercedes 300d (£7,000). A 1966 Humber Hawk went to the top estimate (£600) while a somewhat poorer sister car set a new Bonhams record at just £10. A rare Triang Rolls-Royce pedal car (£2,200)had belonged to the Lines family, owners of Triang, and a life-sized flying lady sent its new owner into ecstacy (£1,600). My favorite was a nicely restored 1933 BSA 10 hp saloon, which went for just £5,000. All prices are exclusive of the 15 percent buyer’s premium.

In recent times, Beaulieu Autojumble has staged a special event just outside the Autojumble area. This year, custom car impressario Andy Saunders and crew worked flat out through the weekend to create the world’s lowest car. Starting from a Fiat 126, by 5 PM Sunday they had chopped, sectioned and channeled it, creating a car just 22 inches high and named, appropriately, Flat Out.

On Saturday, the organizers honored their long-time Autojumble vendors. Elder statesman among them was Cornish Calcott collector Ernie Warmington, first to enter the 1967 event and a vendor every year since 1969. Ernie will be back for the fortieth anniversary Autojumble, to be held 8-9 September 2007. You should go, too.

Not long after Jill and I were married, it became apparent she should have a car of her own. I usually drove the Rover, and while we also had a Chevy pickup she preferred something smaller, a car that could “turn on a sixpence,” like a Triumph Herald.

The Herald had been introduced by Standard-Triumph in 1959 to replace the Standard Ten (which had been sold under the Triumph name in the United States). While the Ten had a unitary body, the Herald was given a cruciform chassis in order to simplify the sourcing of body panels from outside suppliers. It used a version of the Ten’s engine, and came in four body styles, sedan, convertible, coupe and estate wagon. The estate version came later, in 1961. Only the sedan and convertible were regularly sold in the United States.

As it happened, we found a 1966 Herald convertible not far from home, at a modest price (from which the seller was happy to bargain). Jill quickly cleaned it up and enjoyed it, particularly in summer months. Our son Nick was fascinated with it, always eager to help me work on it. It could indeed turn on a sixpence, or a dime – much more nimble than our neighbor’s Cadillac, if a bit intimidated by eighteen-wheelers.

Mechanically it was very similar to the Triumph Spitfire – in fact the Spitfire was derived from the Herald, not vice versa. In order to tighten up the steering, I was able to buy a Spitfire steering rack from a junkyard and bolt it right in.

The chassis frame that was the Herald’s virtue was also its fault. Made of light gauge, box-section steel, it was prone to rust. After about four years I began to run out of places to weld reinforcements on the frame. We sold it for a modest profit, and I’m sure the next owner, if he could weld, had fun, too.

Triumph’s greatest triumphs in the US were sports cars; the sedans and estate cars never seemed to catch on. Triumph sedans were popular in Britain until the late 1970s, but the day of the British sedan in the US had already passed.

And a tail tuck. Studebaker introduced the 1959 Lark, its first “compact” model, as THE NEW DIMENSION IN MOTORING. Inspired by American Motors’ success in reviving the 1955 Rambler as the Rambler American, Studebaker sought to crib a maneuver from AMC’s playbook. But Studebaker had to do more than dust off old dies, since all previous Studies were considerably more than “compact.” Anticipating the 1962 hit song “She Got a Nose Job” (recorded by Jeanne Hayes, Mike Russo and the Dellwoods for Big Top Records), Studebaker took the old sedan tub, developed for 1953, and gave it a nose- and tail job, then added the panoramic windshield greenhouse first seen in 1955.

It was pretty effective. Although the wheelbase shrank by just eight inches, overall length of sedans and wagons was lopped by a whopping 25 inches. To my eyes, the amputation improved the proportions of the car markedly. Particularly attractive was the hardtop coupe, as was the convertible, Studie’s first since 1952, introduced the next year. Metal stamping economies were apparent inside, too: the Lark’s instrument panel used the tooling developed for 1956. For 1962 and ’63 the Lark gained a Mercedes-inspired grille, perhaps influenced by Studebaker’s US distribution arrangement for the German automaker. For ’64 there was another nose job, and another new tail treatment and roof line.

By 1965, every American automaker needed a vinyl roof and bucket seats, and Studebaker wouldn’t be left behind. By that time, though, production had long since moved to Canada. Studebaker’s engine foundry had remained in Indiana, so Chevrolet powerplants were purchased. Oddly, the 1965 brochure used an outdated illustration for Studebaker’s own V8 (calling it “brand new Thunderbolt V8 engine (283 cu. in. displacement…) instead of the small block Chevy actually in the car.

It wasn’t enough. Although Studebaker’s sales, which had languished around 13th place in the mid 1950s, surged to tenth for 1959, the introduction of compact cars, the Ford Falcon, Chevrolet Corvair and Chrysler Corporation’s Valiant, by the Big Three for 1960, sent Stude’s sales skidding again. The last Studebaker, a 1966 Cruiser four-door sedan, was built on March 16, 1966. It had been a long road, in the end a dead-end street, but Studebaker had certainly got its money out of those 1953 body dies.

School opened in our town today. Twenty-four years ago, my son Nick set off for his first day of school. After a hearty breakfast, seen off by his mother and younger sister, he boarded Bus 19, a big yellow International.

I remember my first school bus, too. As it happened, it was a Plymouth station wagon, called into service because our only town bus, a 36-passenger Mack, was too small for the student body of booming babies. No pictures of the Mack survive, but it had the familiar 1940s nose and a streamlined body similar to this one that languishes in the woods in a neighboring northwest Connecticut town. From the interior configuration I think it’s a 1940-47 Ford.

No other town had a Mack bus; most had Chevys and GMCs, like the buses that replaced our Mack, and a few Dodges. By sixth grade, I rode a spiffy Thomas-bodied Ford like this one, still later a Wayne-bodied International. The bus contractor in nearby Canaan always insisted on White chassis, and my high school had a Reo, used mostly for athletic events and field trips.

Many years later I was intrigued to encounter the Crown Coach, the popular California transit-type school bus with underfloor engine. We had nothing like that in the east, although the Amtran Genesis, with International chassis, and Blue Bird flat-front have been gaining some traction here. Our town still uses conventional Internationals, though, as far as the eye can see. They’re probably on the road as you read this. If you like school buses, you’ll find plenty to enjoy at School Bus Explorer and Josh’s School Bus Gallery.

Nick’s first day of school was a great success. When his sister Harriet welcomed him home, he was anxious to tell all about his adventures. He still is. He’ll turn 30 next spring and is still studying – for his PhD in neuroscience.

“Jaguar” means sports cars to most people my age (and for the moment let’s imagine the British pronunciation – JAG-you-ur, three syllables, not JAG-wahr as most Yanks say it). The XK-120 gave great speed (120 mph), thanks to an advanced twin-overhead-cam six-cylinder engine, at a bargain price. The voluptuous E-Type (XK-E in America) aroused the hormones of more than a few adventurous youth.

Jaguar’s birth was less auspicious. An outgrowth of the Swallow Coachbuilding Company, whose initial products were motorcycle sidecars and custom bodies for Austin Sevens, the early cars were badged SS. The first, the SS-I came in 1931, followed by a smaller-engined SS-II. Particularly attractive were “Airline” coupe bodies available in the mid-1930s. The Jaguar name first appeared on the SS-100 of 1935, built until World War II.

After the War, when “SS” had sinister connotations, Jaguar became the marque name and so it has been ever since. My sports car period having ended many years ago, it is Jaguar’s sedans (saloon cars) that appeal to me now. A Mark V provided my first Jaguar ride (saloon, not drophead) and a Mark VII was the first Jag that I drove. By the time the Mark designations reached X the cars had become rather ungainly, but a smaller line, variously called 2.4, 3.4, 3.8 and Mark II, appeared in 1956. The flagship XJ6, introduced in 1969, had a near-20-year run before being replaced by a less svelte XJ40 (called, curiously, XJ6 in the USA). In 1975, the E-Type was replaced by the somewhat nebulous XJS, based on the XJ cars. Jaguar’s fortunes have ebbed and flowed, as quality and fashion have varied. Today the marque is owned by Ford, which is both a blessing and a curse.

Today’s Jaguars don’t excite me very much. The entry-level X-Type looks too much like a Buick (although the Sport Wagon is interesting). The XJ8 comes only with a V8 engine (most un-Jaguarlike), and the “sports” XK8 is hardly more exciting than the XJS. The only current Jag for which I feel any empathy is the S-Type, and that may be only for its retro themes.

Some day I’ll own a Jag. It must have the XK-type dohc engine; preferably it should be a Series III XJ6. I passed up a cheap Series I at Hershey (at least the clock worked). A 3.4 Mark II at Beaulieu Autojumble last year was downright scruffy, but came with carefully-preserved vintage cigarette butts. The car I probably should have bought, a 1986 Series III XJ6, was being offered by the Larz Anderson Auto Museum last summer but is no longer available. One day I’ll find my Jaguar. Folly, you say? Don’t forget: I once drove a Rover 2000 as my everyday car for fifteen years and 120,000 miles.

Wayne Graefen is the CarPort’s Texas ranger. He roams the range in search of interesting automobiles, and this time he’s come up with a 1960 Mercury Park Lane Crusier hardtop coupe. It is, says Wayne, “one of those ’60 Ford products that were federally illegal to be on the highway due to width.”

Indeed, the full size 1960 Mercurys were, at 81-1/2 inches in overall width, tied with the big Fords (and short-lived Edsels) as fattest cars of the year. Wayne’s recollection is that a Federal 80-inch width limit forced Ford Motor Company to put the cars on a crash diet. Slimmer, 79.9-inch ’61 Fords and Mercs were the result, supporting this line of thinking.

It’s not so simple, though. Ford and Mercury were not the only 1960 cars to break the 80-inch barrier. According to the annual Statistical Issue of Automotive Industries, there were five other over-80 makes: brother Lincoln at 80.3, Imperial at 80.5, Olds at 80.6 and even Chevrolet (80.8). Interestingly, Wide-Track Pontiac, while keeping the industry-unique 64-inch tread dimension first seen in 1959, was, at 80.7 inches, a tad narrower than Chevy. Moreover, Mercury, Lincoln, Imperial and all GM cars except Chevy were 80-plus in 1959.

All FoMoCo makes retreated below 80 inches in 1961, Lincoln to 78.6. Chev and Pontiac were 78.4 and 78.2 respectively (and Pontiac, while advertising “Wide-Track” well beyond 1961, actually narrowed the tread dimension to 62.5 inches). Imperial, however, was not to be constrained, shamelessly puffing up its cars to an unprecedented 81.7-inch width from 1961 to 1963.

Trivialists my wonder what was the narrowest car of 1960. Automotive Industries tells us that, too: Corvair at 66.9 inches. Interestingly, Corvair also had the least overall height, 52.8 inches. Tallest cars were Lincoln and the Pontiac Catalina, tied at 58.4 inches. (Note that by March 15, 1960, AI had already forgotten the Edsel.)

I’m not quite sure what to make of the Federal limit. Although today we have Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards, administered by the US Department of Transportation, in 1960 there was no such thing. Most motor vehicle regulations were administered by the states. The only 80-inch stricture I’ve found is a requirement for clearance lights and identification lights on certain wide vehicles. The lighting regulations have been around for a long time, the nickname “ICC lights” coming from the US Government body, the Interstate Commerce Commission, that required them.

I’m not sure if you’d be ticketed for driving a 1960 Mercury on the road today. I’ve worked out a remedy, though, for those who may be apprehensive. Wayne, your street legal ’60 Merc is ready!