Kit Foster's CarPort

Small and Swift

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 21:43:00 +0000

The Overland car, volume seller from John North Willys's Willys-Overland Corporation, held a steady second place to Ford during the 'teens, but sagged measurably in the early 1920s. So in 1926, Willys came up with an inexpensive car, the Whippet. Small and swift, like the canine whose name it bore, the Whippet caught on quickly, helped by the Model T's old-age decline. It's visual cue was a gently-rounded radiator shell, topped with a bounding dog mascot. Some cars were badged as Overlands, but most bore the Whippet emblem.

Body styles included coupe, coach and sedan, and sales of 253,000 cars, helped by prices as low as $610, pushed the make to third place in 1928. Power came from a 134 cubic inch L-head four, and later a six was added to the mix. The flagship sleeve-valve Willys-Knight continued in production, but drew few buyers.

In 1929, though, Hudson's Essex nudged past Whippet for third place, and 1930 was no better. Total Willys-Overland sales sank below those of Pontiac and Oakland. For 1931, the Whippets gave way to Willys sixes and eights, but sales slipped to sixth, then tenth. For 1933, John Willys decided to concentrate on the low end of the market, and discontinued the large cars in favor of the Willys 77. In a time when the Terraplane was helping Hudson out of the doldrums, you'd think it might have been a tonic. Alas, sales fell still further, to 15th place, and stayed there for most of the thirties, despite updated models. The Whippet's little four cylinder engine, though, went on to become a hero. Re-engineered and refined, it went on to power the immortal Jeep.

The Last Stutz

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 04:03:00 +0000

Stutz was the "Car that made good in a day," turning in a creditable performance in the inaugural Indianapolis 500 in 1911. It is the Stutz Bearcat, of course, that became best known, despite the fact that there were Stutz sedans and touring cars throughout the car's life. In the 1920s, the "Safety Stutz," with its low-slung chassis and iconic "Vertical Eight" overhead cam engine made its mark in America. Although the low-priced companion make Blackhawk of 1929-30 was not a success, the four-valve DV-32 engine and Super Bearcat model kept marque in the public eye until 1934.

Then, alas, the money ran out and production stopped, although a few chassis sent to England were bodied there and sold as 1935 cars. Finally, in 1938, the remains of the company were sold at auction.

But motor vehicle production did not stop there, not quite. In 1932, Stutz acquired the Pak-Age-Car, a compact rear-engine delivery van, which had been distributed through the Stutz dealer network. Re-engineering the Pak-Age-Car to use a four-cylinder Hercules engine, Stutz put it into production at its Indianapolis factory. It was a stand-and-drive vehicle, with the engine mounted to the rear transaxle, the whole power train easily removable for servicing.

When Stutz bankruptcy loomed in 1938, the Pak-Age-Car moved to Auburn factories in Connersville, Indiana. Auburn, too, was in trouble, so off-loaded Pak-Age-Car marketing and distribution to Diamond T, which continued to sell the little vans until March 1941, when war preparations took over the Connersville plant.

According to The Stutz Club, only about four Pak-Age-Cars survive. I snapped this unrestored example at the National Automobile and Truck Museum of the United States in Auburn, Indiana, next to the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Museum. As it happens, there was once a Pak-Age-Car operating near the CarPort's headquarters in southeastern Connecticut. John M. Russ of Norwich purchased a new Pak-Age-Car from John P. Nielsen & Sons, the Hartford Diamond T dealer in April 1940. An independent route man, he delivered products for Thumm's delicatessen. I'm grateful to John's widow, Pauline Russ, for these photos.

Retromobile 35

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 04:28:00 +0000

This year marks the 35th Rétromobile show held in Paris at the Porte de Versailles. Rétromobile, the largest indoor old car event in Europe, occurred a fortnight earlier than in the past, due to scheduling conflicts at the exposition grounds.

Rétromobile is not just a European Hershey held indoors. The formula does not really translate to any other venue. To be sure, there are vendors of automobile components and ephemera: tools, polish, car covers, leather outfits, pedal cars and model cars. If you're restoring a French car, you'll be happy to find an engine for your Chapuis-Dornier or a radiator for your Citroën. You can even buy an electric power steering kit for your Delahaye.

But there are also high-end collector car dealers with some mammoth motorcars, and auto manufacturers as well. At one time, the French Big Three were stalwarts, but Renault pulled out some years ago. Peugeot and Citroën are faithful followers, though, the former showing off a 602 Eclipse and the latter touting 40 years of the SM and GS. Mercedes-Benz celebrated the legend of the gull wing (which the French call "butterfly doors"). BMW/Mini pulled out this year, replaced by Mazda, which had some seldom-seen models on display. Alfa-Romeo, too, was a welcome surprise, celebrating its centenary. Also with a presence was the German gearbox maker ZF.

It's the clubs that add enthusiast depth to Rétromobile, organizations like Amis de Delage and Club Vedette, the latter with a V8-engined Simca Chambord. Morgan France had a strong presence, but their kinship to the 124 Spider group was somewhat of a mystery.

There's always an auction at Rétromobile, in recent years conducted by Bonhams. This year's headliner was the Bugatti from the Lake, a Brescia rescued from the depths of Lake Maggiore near the Swiss-Italian border. An incomplete car, it was nonetheless sold for €260,500 ($375,120), to a buyer who has promised to preserve it.

There are always centerpiece displays at Rétromobile. This year celebrated two centuries of urban transportation, corraling a flock of microcars and a vintage DeDion bus. Another display demonstrated the intricacies of filming action scenes with automobiles.

My favorite, however, was La Baleine, the whale-like creation of French artist Paul Arzens. Constructed in 1938 (take that, Harley Earl!), it shows subtle clues of its origin as a 1926 Buick.

Rollers, Hissos and Plymmies

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 12:49:00 +0000

I've heard it said that in the upper reaches of collector car circles it's considered coarse and crass to refer to a Rolls-Royce as a "Roller," although "Rolls" is generally acceptable. The same goes for Hispano-Suiza: "Hispano," certainly, but never "Hisso." Why, then, does everyone refer to a Duesenberg as a "Duesie"? In fact, the nickname is so ingrained in the language that it now describes anything that is grand or large or immense, either good or bad. I'm not sure about "Bug" for Bugatti.

Why is a Cadillac called a "Caddy," while a Lincoln is never a "Linky"? A Chevrolet can be a Chevy (in fact the manufacturer promotes it as such), but Mopar mavens recoil when a Plymouth is called "Plymmie." "Studie" (or "Stude") is all right for Studebaker, but a Packard is never a "Packy." If someone tells you he's got a "Merc," you need to know what continent he's on. It could be either a Mercedes or a Mercury.

Somehow it's frequently okay to shorten car names to a single syllable: Jaguar to "Jag," Oldsmobile to "Olds," but why is a Daimler never a "Dame"?

The single syllable cars, Ford, Cord, Dodge, Nash, Stutz, escape nicknames entirely, but how about the two-syllable makes: Hudson, Buick, Marmon, Edsel, Franklin, Saturn, and even three-syllable DeSoto? I've never heard any of them abbreviated.

It seems logical to make Pontiac into "Ponti," but Pontiac partisans apparently prefer "Poncho" instead.

If you can shed any light on the above mysteries, please direct it to the CarPort, or perhaps you have similar questions of your own.

Finally, a couple of notes on pronunciation. Porsche is a two-syllable word, and Willys does not rhyme with "Phillies." I knew John North Willys' grandson, and he told me the family name was always pronounced "Willis." So, too, did the company's television commercials call the Aero Willys car back in the 1950s.

Autocar

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 08:54:00 +0000

When I was young I used to wonder why a company called Autocar built only trucks. One frequently saw Autocars then. They were as popular as Federals and Brockways, if not as common as Reo or White. My father explained that once upon a time Autocar had done just that: built cars.

The Autocar Company was established in 1900 in Ardmore, Pennsylvania, a suburb of Philadelphia. It was said to be the first American car with shaft drive, and Autocars pioneered other features like left-hand drive and controls on the steering tiller or column. At first the cars were of two-cylinder configurations, but in 1905 the Type X twin was joined by a four-cylinder Type XI.

In 1907, Autocar began to build commercial vehicles. These were of cab-forward design, and included buses as well as trucks. This 1912 model once belonged to high-profile collector Henry Austin Clark, Jr. By 1911, the trucks were so successful that Autocar ceased to build cars.

Early Autocar trucks had the engine under the seat, initially a twin-cylinder but fours from 1920. In 1927, a conventional line, with the engine up front under a hood, was added. Six-cylinder trucks of five-ton capacity came in 1928, and by the mid-30s a pattern of sustained sameness set in, with a simple upright grille with prominent nameplate and squared-off cab. A streamlined cab-over-engine model was offered as well.

Autocars were big trucks - there were no pickups as offered by Reo or even Mack. They were found in over-the-road service as well as on city streets. By the 1960s, diesels had become the mainstay of the fleet.

Financial woes in the early '50s resulted in acquisition by White in 1953. The trucks didn't change much as they became the top-line model in the White catalog. This continued through the 1960s, '70s, and the White-Volvo-GMC period of the 1980s and '90s, The Autocar name was finally dropped in 2000.

But Autocar lives. In 2001, Grand Vehicle Works of Highland Park, Illinois, purchased the name and now builds Autocar Xpeditors for the refuse collection industry.

Last month while on an errand to southern Vermont I came across this field of Autocars beside the road. Parked long ago, they basked in the afternoon sun, a flatbed, a stake body and a dump truck. Old Autocars never die - they just sit and watch the traffic.

Bargain Buick

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 08:37:00 +0000

Buicks for 1959 were all new. The baroque behemoths of 1958 were replaced by a clean, finned motif reminiscent of a supersonic airplane. The design had been presaged by the attractive 1957 concept XP-75, also known as Skylark II. The only holdover was the square-buttons in the grille. The brochure called them "Buicks so new even the names had to be new." The time-honored series of Special, Century Super, Roadmaster and Limited were tossed aside and replaced by new series designations.

The entry level car, named for the 1951 concept car, was called "LeSabre" and took the place of the Special. Taking the place of the Century and Super was "Invicta." The LeSabres and Invictas were on a 123-inch wheelbase. At the top of the range was the "Electra." Three of the six Electras were more or less equivalent to the former Limited and were called "Electra 225," for their overall length.

With a design this fresh and new, you'd think Buick would have come up with a marketing name, something like Nash's "Airflyte" and Chrysler's "Forward Look." Instead, the cars were pitched to the public on the basis of affordability: "The car within reach of two out of three new car buyers." And so the LeSabre was sold as the "Thiftiest Buick," the Invicta with short wheelbase and big engine the "Most Spirited." The Electra was, naturally, the "Most Luxurious Buick."

Engines were two versions of Buick's famed "nailhead" V8. New "Alfin" front brake drums combined iron braking surfaces with finned aluminum drums. A portable transistor radio could be removed for use at a picnic or on the beach. Best selling, not surprisingly, was the "thrifty" LeSabre with the greatest number of body styles, amounting to more than half of total production.

Curious, however, was GM's corporate strategy. Alfred Sloan's "Car for Every Purse and Purpose" was thrown to the wind, as Oldsmobile virtually paralleled Buick's market segment, or vice versa. Buick prices ranged from $2,740 to $4,300, Olds' from $2,837 to $4,366. Given Olds' fussier styling and slightly higher price, I'd have thought Buick would sell better. But Olds at least made a big deal of the new styling, and in the end sold 100,000 more cars than Buick. Go figure. For The General, however, it was win-win, as the two divisions' sales locked up 77 percent of the upper-medium price segment, far overpowering Mercury and DeSoto.

Dennis David found a bargain Buick of his own several years ago. Discovered behind a farmer's logpile, the car had been parked when the elderly owner found it difficult to drive. He had purchased it new many years earlier and had specified a very basic Buick: LeSabre hardtop coupe, with automatic transmission and heater, but no power assists - nor even a radio.

Dennis had it towed home, rebuilt the braking system and gave the engine a tuneup. The car started easily and ran well. He spiffed it up with new carpeting, and drove it for about five years. He finally sold it in a spate of collection-thinning. It had been, like the new 1959 Buick LeSabres, quite a bargain. You, too, can buy a bargain Buick. The Krause Collector Car Price Guide says that 1959 Buick LeSabres are still less expensive than comparable Olds Dynamic 88s.

A Fabulous Five

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 04:45:00 +0000

The CarPort went live just five years ago this week. This post makes 255 features in that time, just shy of one per week for the entire period. I'm not a great fan of "best of" lists, but I do wallow in nostalgia now and then, so please indulge me while I reflect on the CarPort's first half-decade.

We launched with a piece on French flatheads, something I had intended to use in print journalism before my principal outlet canceled my column. Who knew that the Ford flathead was being produced for Gallic armies right into the 1970s...

We've highlighted many discoveries of Wayne Graefen, our Texas Ranger, as well as those of St. Louis Bureau Chief Fred Summers. Dennis David has been a ready source of sad Saabs and ostracized Opels, and we shared several readers' cars, like Frank McMullen's DeSoto and Michael Della Gala's Barnette Chevy ambulance. I was sad to learn of the sudden passing, this last July, of faithful follower Randy Poole, before he was able to complete much work on his DeSoto Suburban.

We've covered auto events from Greenwich to Hershey to Amelia to Beaulieu, even Paris and Nairobi. Notable scoops have included the Ghia Centurion and Alain Cerf's Cugnot replica, and along the way I've introduced you to several members of my family and some of the cars in their lives.

We can take satisfaction, too, in the destiny of some of our featured vehicles. The Wayward Bus, for example, is now being restored and I'm hoping to show it again when it's finished. Others have been rescued, whether for restoration or parts.

Steady CarPorters will have noticed that I take the term "automotive" pretty broadly, including such peripheral vehicles as snowmobiles and agricultural machinery. In fact, the single most popular item, judging from reader comments, was the posting on Gravely tractors.

So, with thanks to all who have had a part in making the CarPort what it is, we look forward to another five years and more.

A Car for Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 16:02:00 +0000

I don't expect Father Christmas or anyone else to bring me a new car this season, much as I would welcome it. But sixty years ago today something like that happened to my family, although it was the local dealer, not Santa, who delivered a new Mercury.

The 1949 Mercury was "All New" - though ours was one of the later models: the '49s had been introduced in March 1948. Originally intended to be the 1949 Ford, it was the last design from the studio of E.T. Gregorie before he left Ford Motor Company., When the smaller Ford from the consultancy of George Walker was chosen, the "old Ford" was bumped upstairs to be a Mercury, and the putative Mercury became the entry-level Lincoln.

Just four body styles were offered, a two door Coupe that was more of a sedan and a handsome station wagon of half-timbered construction with a lovely woodgrain dashboard - friends of ours had one. At the top of the line was a convertible, but the most popular was our model, the four-door Sport Sedan. The 110 bhp engine was a larger, 255 cid version of Ford's venerable flathead V8. Priced from $1,979 to $2,716, they were competing with Oldsmobile, DeSoto, Chrysler and even the Packard Eight.

For 1950, Mercury got a cosmetic facelift and a new dashboard. The 1951 cars were more heavily facelifted, and lengthened with longer rear fenders. A prestige model for 1950 and '51 was the fabric-roofed Monterey, a stopgap measure to counter GM's hardtops.

Our Sport Sedan was black, like this one, but lacking whitewalls and fender skirts. The interior and dashboard were almost opulent for the day - our car had green where this one is blue, but otherwise was the same.

It was logical for us to buy a car that winter - more than a year earlier we had replaced Mommycar, the 1935 Ford, with a Willys Jeep. Intended to be truck, tractor and passenger car, it proved more of the former than the latter. I had never understood, however, just how the transaction came about.

My mother kept a daily journal for nearly 50 years. I was recently reading the 1949 volume, and therein lay the answer. My uncle was being married on the 23rd of December that year. On the 22nd she wrote: "Frank Howe brought the Mercury over for us to borrow for the afternoon and took the Jeep back to work on." Frank was the sales manager at the local garage; "the afternoon" presumably referred to the following day's wedding. On Saturday the 24th, we learn "When Phil called Frank Howe to ask if we might keep the car over the weekend, he said 'Well, you better keep it at least a year'."

We kept it for nine years, until it was traded on the Peugeot 403. Oddly, we took few pictures of it, and most of those were during our "Polaroid period," the products of which faded badly. Here it is outside our house, and here at my cousin's in New Jersey.

Part of my puzzle was how we paid for two new vehicles in little more than a year. We were of modest means, but my father had an aversion to debt. The entry for Thursday, December 29, 1949, tells all: "We took out a note with the garage to pay for the car. It was so nice to be able to handle it all through Mr. Tracy [the bank manager] and Frank Howe. I still can't believe that we can own such a beautiful bit of luxury. But we have waited a long time for such an indulgence. We are like snails, putting our house money on wheels and riding around in it."

The Jackrabbit

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 16:11:00 +0000

Who among us hasn't wanted to build his own car at one time or another. Most of us have only thought about it. My cousin Tom is one of the few who actually did it, at least part way. When Tom was in his early teens he bought a Crosley two-door sedan (like this one). He managed to get it running, but rather quickly became bored, so he took the body off. For a while he drove the naked chassis around in the fields and woods near his home.Then things got adventurous, as Tom learned to weld.

The two-seat body-less Crosley became a monoposto machine, with the engine and rear axle mounted on a sprung subframe. Then he happened upon the rear axle from a 1950 Dodge, so he designed a tubular frame that would accept the Dodge rear and the much narrower Crosley front axle. It was made up out of threaded steel pipe, screwed together and welded at the joints.

Then he purchased a worn-out 1935 Ford, like our old Mommycar. The Ford's V8 was transplanted into this new car, overwhelming the Crosley front suspension, so the Ford front axle and wishbone were adapted. About the only Crosley parts that remained were the steering wheel and the seats; its engine was relegated to running the arc welder.

He called it the Jackrabbit, not to pay homage to the Apperson car by that name but to describe its demeanor. With virtually no weight, the engine was basically pulling itself, and the car fair bounded over hill and dale. The brakes were two-wheel hydraulics, operated with a hand lever, and the shift lever was relocated to the rearward cockpit with a parallelogram linkage.

I helped him with some of the welding, here in October 1956. After a time, Tom tired of the Jackrabbit and sold it to his younger brother Dennis. Tom's later projects included a Benson gyrocopter and a Bradley GT, both from kits. He went on to found his own computer company.

There were many such home-built cars created in the 1950s. Some of the more sophisticated ones were given fiberglass bodies, a good medium for one-offs and small lot production. Geoff Hacker, a guru of fiberglass cars has an awesome website devoted to them.

The Jackrabbit was eventually scrapped, never having had a body. One wonders what it might have looked like clothed in fiberglass. One impediment to making it street legal would have been the position of seating relative to the engine, making forward vision difficult. At the very least, a lower radiator would have been required.

403

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 10:05:00 +0000

The summer I turned 14, my parents bought a new car. It was 1958, and we were in the second Eisenhower Recession; economy cars were hot. It seemed an opportune time to trade in our 1949 Mercury, which, though it had fewer than 60,000 miles, was anything but economical. The popular Volkswagen was too small and we were not a Microbus family. We looked at the Triumph Ten, but found it almost as cramped as the VW. Peugeot, however, had just hit the American market with their 403 model, still drawing raves in France three years after its introduction. After a few test drives and appropriate deliberations, we bought a Peugeot 403 Grand Luxe Berline (sedan) from Hamzy's Garage, the local dealer. Hamzy's also dealt in two other imports that were becoming popular, Renault and Borgward.

The 403 was mechanically a refinement of the 203 model introduced in 1948, and which continued in production. The engine, a hemi-head inline four, was enlarged from the 203's 1,290 cc to 1,468, but the car retained a four-speed column-shift overdrive gearbox and worm gear rear axle. Suspension was a somewhat unconventional setup, independent in front with a transverse leaf spring and rack-and-pinion steering, and a coil-sprung live axle in the rear with "wishbone" radius arms. Whatever, it handled superbly, in part due to the standard Michelin X radial tires. The body was an entirely new design by Pininfarina. US models could have whitewalls as a no-cost option, but the handling suffered since they were not radials.

There were five different models of 403s, at least in the home market. In addition to the Berline there was a natty little Cabriolet, beloved of Peter Falk in the Columbo series, and an eight-seat Familiale station wagon. The Limousine Commerciale was a utility version of the wagon, and there was also a Camionette Bachée (covered van). Only the Berline, Familiale and a few Cabriolets came to the United States.

Our car, in the soft green shown in the brochures, had the standard features of manual sunroof, reclining seats (which made a lumpy bed) and large trunk with readily accessible spare tire. It took us everywhere, to church (Easter Sunday 1960), on vacation, around town, for more than ten years. By that time it was still running well despite having covered 100,000 miles, but the salt of northeastern winters had taken its toll on the unibody. Eventually they gave it away. You don't often see them restored (think salt on unibody), but every time I do I get nostalgic.

Sweptside

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 08:47:00 +0000

Undoubtedly the most flamboyant of 1950s pickups, Dodge's Sweptside was a clever innovation by one of America's more conservative truck manufacturers. In the early years of the decade, Dodge pickups were upright and utilitarian, much more staid than the Advance Design Chevys and F-series Fords. Even a new greenhouse for 1955 didn't shake off the "Backward Look" for which the trucks had been known, although a dressed-up Town Panel was available for upmarket businesses.

For 1957, the updated cab was mated to a Forward Look nose, but Dodge was still upstaged, for pickups lagged the competition in style. In 1955 Chevrolet had introduced the snazzy Cameo Carrier to complement its standard pickups. The Cameo covered the pickup's bulbous haunches with gently-sculpted fiberglass panels. Dodge product planners responded with their own commercial version of the Exner look, the 1957 Sweptside pickup.

Implementation was deceptively simple. Steel side panels, complete with Swept Wing fins and taillights, were adapted from the station wagon line. The standard bed and tailgate were used.

Ford bypassed the prestige pickup phase entirely, bringing out its Styleside bed, with full-width cargo area, for 1957. International did likewise with the mid-1957 A (for "Anniversary") Series.

Sweptside pickups were built in 1957, '58 and '59. By that time all makers were following Ford, Chevy having introduced the Fleetside pickup in 1958 and phased out Cameo production. Dodge followed suit in 1959 with the Sweptline pickup, and the last Sweptside was built that January.

Total Sweptside production is believed to be about 1,250, compared to more than 10,000 Cameos. It was a noble experiment, and can probably be considered a success, because, even though sales were few, engineering and tooling costs were minuscule.

This 1959 Dodge Sweptside was offered for sale in the 2009 Hershey Car Corral. A V8-engined, four speed truck, it had been driven but 31,000 miles. For less than $42,000, you could have driven it home.

Original Miles

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 15:00:00 +0000

I think we all understand the concept of original miles. They represent the distance a given car has been driven since its birth. The choice of the word "original" is a bit peculiar, as it implies that the car does not have replacement or replica miles, that the miles have not been transferred from another car (well, that could happen, if, for example, the speedometer and odometer had been replaced). It's common to advertise a car's "original miles," however, particularly if the mileage is low, like this 1976 Cadillac seen in the 2009 Hershey Car Corral, or this '73 Pontiac Grand Prix.

Then there are "actual miles," which amount to the same thing, although the context suggests that they are neither figurative or fake. Actual miles were also rampant at this year's Hershey meet, blatant in some cases. And there was even one car that had both original and actual miles.

As the miles, whether original or actual, get higher and the car less pristine, they become less important, often an afterthought on the For Sale sign, although a car with high miles can still be very desirable. Sometimes, with a very distinctive car like a De Tomaso Pantera, it's sufficient to say simply "miles."

There comes a time and place, however, when even "miles" is superfluous, when the number alone speaks for itself.

Top Truck

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 23:33:00 +0000

Nineteen thirty-seven was a very good year. Production of US cars, at 3.93 million, was the best since the peak year of 1929, and trucks, at 891,016 even surpassed the earlier year's record. Particularly significant was Ford's tally, first place among truck manufacturers.

The 1937 Ford trucks were not revolutionary. The sheet metal was basically the same as 1936, but with a blunted grille shell and a split windshield. The major changes were under the skin, where the new chassis frame for passenger cars was adopted by the light trucks, along with cable-operated brakes and an updated 85 hp V8 engine. Also new was an optional 60 hp V8, a 136 cubic inch unit available in Standard passenger cars and nearly all trucks.

I've always liked 1937 Ford trucks, mainly because of the grille that's "softer" than the 1936 item. For 1938-39, Ford trucks got a new cab as well as a new "barrel front" grille. I don't care for those as much, finding the new grille too bold. Sales in 1938 dropped to a post-1934 low, as a new recession took hold.

I stumbled across this '37 Ford pickup at Hershey last month. Basically complete, it looked like it had been slumbering in a swamp. The engine looked inert, and the body was rotten. I couldn't tell whether the sagging was due to cab rot or a broken frame. There was no price evident, but it was clearly a project only for the stout-hearted, even with a spare cab included.

Second Time Around

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 16:48:00 +0000

How many times have we heard the familiar lament: "If only they brought back the _____, they'd sell a million of 'em." Fill in the blank with the name of your favorite car: Model T, Model A, VW's old Beetle and the list goes on. In reality, if they did (and could comply with environmental and safety regs) they'd probably sell a few dozen, given the speed with which technology advances. But one manufacturer did revive a dead model and make a success of it: American Motors with the Rambler American.

To be sure, the old car had been out of production less than two years, so the model was not old and stale. And as timing is everything, they were reviving an economy car in a recession, when small imports were gaining market share and the Big Three had nothing to offer in that segment. The new Rambler American was a small-change investment, since it was essentially the old Rambler that was discontinued after 1955, with a new grille and taillights turned upside down. The engine, too, was old hat, a near dupe of the 1955 flathead six with merely a new water pump location. When the powerplant was updated for the "big Rambler" in 1956 and given overhead valves, the water pump was moved from behind the generator (and driven by it) to the "conventional" spot at the front.

The Rambler, you will remember, was introduced in 1950 as a small car in the Nash line. Initially sold only as a well-optioned convertible, it was much more successful than Hudson's Jet and Kaiser's Henry J. A station wagon joined the ragtop that year, and later a hardtop coupe. For 1953, it was restyled with cues from the '52 Nash, and longer-wheelbase four-door sedans and Cross Country station wagons were brought out for 1954 (the illustrations are 1955 cars).

The revived Rambler, dubbed "American" to distinguish it from the larger models, joined the 1958 line, as a two-door sedan or station wagon, both on the short 100-inch wheelbase. Priced from $1,775, it undercut Ford by $200 and Chevy by nearly twice that much. Production for the year was modest, slightly more than 30,000, about equal to 1953. For 1959, though, sales soared to 91,491 the best year yet. In 1960, a four-door sedan was added, also on the short wheelbase, and production hit a new high of 120,603, though no match for the new compacts from Ford, Chevrolet and Plymouth. They didn't sell a million, but 242,674 cars in three years nearly equaled the six-year total of the first Rambler.

For 1961, the American got new sheet metal, but underneath was the same Airflyte unitary understructure. A new offering was the convertible, which differed from its 1950-53 antecedent in having a fully-retractable top. With minor trim changes, the freshened American soldiered on until 1964, when a wholly-new Richard Teague design was introduced.

The car that heads this feature belongs to David Dykes of Waterford, Connecticut. I saw it, complete with authentic aftermarket swamp cooler, at the auto show put on by the Greater Norwich Area Chamber of Commerce back in September.

Africa Concours

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 07:35:00 +0000

We think of the concours d'elegance as an American institution, despite its French origins. These days, nearly every car show adopts the lofty title, despite the fact that only the most prestigious really qualify. What are we to make, then, of the Africa Concours d'Elegance, held in Kenya? Courtesy of my daughter Harriet, whom you've met before, we can take a tour and decide for ourselves.

This year's Africa Concours took place on September 27th, and Harriet and her husband Don Howard, who live in Nairobi, went to take a look. The rules are interesting. "Any normal roadworthy car,utility vehicle or motorcycle made in 2007 or earlier is eligible to compete." There are 20 classes, of which eight are for motorcycles, and cars are grouped mostly by engine size. Also interesting is that cars are judged on "cleanliness and condition without regard to originality."

Contestants were as diverse as Rolls-Royce and Volkswagen, Alvis and Plymouth. Of particular interest were the last Peugeot 404 ever assembled (they didn't say where), a diamond-plated Mini Moke and a Metropolitan. A Ford Fairlane was seeking a new home, and a British Ford E83 truck displayed an original emblem from the Kenyan dealer. Cleanliness was a transitory commodity, as dust settled as soon as the polishing cloth was put away. And where else but Africa would you see a Peugeot 505 4x4?

Around the periphery were displays from manufacturers, including Daihatsu, Kia, Mahindra (India) and Subaru. The Chinese automaker Chery showed a hint of America's upcoming imports, and even General Motors made a good showing, with the familiar Chevrolet Aveo and upmarket Optra, both Daewoo products. You could buy bull bars for your SUV, a Howling Moon roof tent for camping, or take driving lessons for Kenya's dangerous roads. You could also get your suspension, the Achilles' heel of many a Kenyan car, tested for free. Also on hand were the Kenya Automobile Association and the Vintage and Classic Car Club of Kenya.

Once the judging was complete, the Starehe Boys' School marching band played, and the Ugandan Motorcyclists' Club led the parade as cars passed in review. Overall winner was this 1928 Model A Ford, whose restoration had been finished shortly before the event. The costume prize was taken by this Hillman Minx convertible. The surprise of the afternoon? See if you can spot the Railton.

Under Three Grand

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 07:18:00 +0000

From time to time, the guys over at the Hemmings Blog, one of the more inspired forms of journalism to emanate from the Green Mountain State, look at cars available for under $5,000. That seems to be about the minimum for a car that runs in which you'd dare to be seen. For people of my generation, though, that seems like a lot of money, for we can remember when $500 would buy a pretty decent car.

While at Hershey the week before last, I decided to keep my eyes open to see what sort of car I could buy for $3,000, a sum of money I could easily lay my hands upon and, not coincidentally, the price I paid for Angus the Hudson in December 1976. I was surprised at the results.

We all know about stratospheric "Hershey prices," so I did not take the $3,000 limit too seriously - there's always room for negotitation, particularly on Saturday afternoon - but some of the asking figures were, frankly, insane. Granted, barn-fresh prewar cars can be expensive, like the Lincoln service car at $21,500 and the '39 Ford convertible sedan for $14,999, but why pay tens of kilobucks for a restoration project when you could probably drive home in a nice Model T roadster for $6,500. A little less money would buy a 1940 Bantam coupe, that might also run. The 1941 Ford one-taillight-one-wiper Special coupe was certainly rare, but does that make it more valuable than a Super Deluxe model in comparable condition? Grandpa's 1937 DeSoto at $27,000, though, makes it look like good value indeed. Neither the 1930 Whippet nor the brokeback '37 Ford had a price listed, nor did the 1927 Buick, but at least the latter left room for haggling. The $600 Model A Ford and Overland we'll dismiss, as they're not whole cars.

Postwar cars were similarly diverse. Thirteen-five for a '57 Olds with broken windows seems high, but the value guides do show a premium for the hardtop wagon. Seven grand for a sun-dried Cali-Camino is indeed rich, but perhaps they'll get it. Ten-and-a-half big ones is too much for any standard VW, in my opinion, but the value guides disagree. Unfortunately, the Beetle that fit my budget was a bit tatty. I wouldn't pay $4,500 for a Mercury that you couldn't leave out in the rain, though $4,300 for a '62 Ford Galaxie might be palatable, if I actually thought the car was attractive. A '48 Dodge seemed a relative bargain at $1,500, but it was not a running car. The only hope for an impecunious drive-away seemed to be a $2,500 '64 Ford F100, though it showed that "rust free" is a relative term. Then I saw the '61 Studebaker Lark being offered in the car corral. "I think it's worth $3,800" said the seller, and it came with the original owner's manual. If I were serious about buying a car, I'd have seen how close to my $3,000 limit he would come.

All Roads Lead to Hershey

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 13:12:00 +0000

In October, all roads lead to Hershey, and on the roads are lots of old cars. That's because Hershey, Pennsylvania, hosts the world's largest old car event, the Eastern Regional Fall Meet of the Antique Automobile Club of America. This was my 27th consecutive year.

Hardly had I arrived than a saw an old acquaintance, a 1974 Ford Maverick Grabber that was a no sale last year. The owner had dropped his price by $2,000, which must have worked because it was gone before the show closed. Other treasures included a 1917 Overland engine for $600, toys, radiator shells and a flathead Ford V8 - demonstrated regularly. Throughout the grounds customers were taking home parts and memorabilia.

Every year a bunch of barn-fresh cars come out, like this 1939 Ford convertible sedan, a 1923 Lincoln converted to service car, and an unobtrusive 1930 Whippet Six sedan. Vehicles that caught my fancy in the Car Corral included a rare 1951 Frazer Vagabond, a 1958-9 Chevy milk truck, and a 1941 Ford Special coupe, a bottom-of-the-line model with minimal chrome, a seat that flips up to access the inside storage area and a single taillight. The nastiest vehicle I saw was a 1937 Ford pickup, in great danger of disintegrating on site.

A 1947 Ford cab-over-engine truck, like the one we featured some years ago, sold early in the week. There was also a nice 1959 Dodge Sweptside pickup and a 1947 Canadian-built Mercury panel truck. We've seen 1950s Packard station wagons before and Hershey had an interesting one, obviously converted from a sedan, its roofline and bustle giving it away. The storied Tucker convertible was on show and drawing crowds. I find it attractive, but I'm skeptical about its stories. The innovative 1955 Flajole Forerunner was mesmerizing many, particularly this mystery man with a camera. I'd never before seen a Hanover but Hershey had one, a 1922 model being sold by Hyman Classic Cars. There were two (count 'em) DeLoreans and a single Bricklin. Faced with a choice I'd take the Bricklin, as there were parts available in the Red Field.

One could get a close look at the Futurliner belonging to the National Auto and Truck Museum of the United States. Of great interest were the dual front wheels which have differentials in the hubs. They also run on genuine Parade of Progress tires. Most people, though, were watching the show, not the wheels.

On Saturday morning, all visitors head for the car show where there's always something new to see. A nicely-restored 1948 International KB-2 pickup was carrying a beautiful Simplicity garden tractor, just like mine. There was a Crosley ladder truck, a Reo Gold Comet school bus (when was the last time you saw one?) and a 1926 GMC motor home.

The cut-off date for AACA recognition is now 1984, so we see such things as a first generation Bronco, a Suzuki LJ50 and a Jeep J4000 pickup with 360 cubic inch V8 (Dan Strohl, eat your heart out!). A Maryland collector showed a matched pair of 1960 Valiants, one with red interior and the other in blue.

My favorite part of the show is the Historic Preservation of Original Features class. Drawing crowds was a Willys Silver Knight roadster (you can look it up), and a Springfield Rolls Phantom I with Brewster Suburban body was nearby. You could also see a Day-Elder truck and an unrestored 1914 Haynes. In the main show were a 1932 Detroit Electric with balloon tires on wire wheels and a companion 1976 Citicar electric. Around the corner was the first Browniekar I'd ever seen.

The only auction in town these days is the RM sale held at the Hershey Lodge. One of the stars of the sale was the unrestored 1909 Stanley E2 runabout that took part in the 2006 Amelia Island Concours d'Elegance. Prepped by specialist Mark Smith, it steamed across the dais to be knocked down for a high bid of $160,000, twice the high estimate.

After a brief respite at headquarters of the Society of Automotive Historians, it was time to go since nearly all vendors had left. Dennis, Chris and Billy helped break down the tent and I loaded my remaining wares for the trip home. It had been a good Hershey, marred only by high winds on Wednesday and some overnight showers. I'm already looking forward to year 28.

A Land Office Business

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 07:44:00 +0000

"It may go, or it may not." So said Mr. Bishop to Mr. Titus, and according to local legend that's how Waterford, Connecticut's, Mago Point got its name. Titus and Bishop, partners in the land company that bore their names, were developing a subdivision of 255 lots, each 25 feet wide by 100 deep, on the eastern shore of the Niantic River.

To assist their marketing, they ordered a 1925 Chevrolet Superior commercial car from the Thompson Chevrolet Company in their home city of New London. As supplied, with hood and front fenders, but no body, it listed for $425. The partners then had a local carpenter build a miniature bungalow on the back, complete with hip roof, bay windows and a porch for the driver. "Little Down - $1.00 a Week Buys a Lot" read their marketing: "Ask the Man."

As it happened, Mago Point didn't go, at least for Titus and Bishop. After the land was foreclosed during the Depression, the Chevy went out to pasture. Following World War II it was sold to an oil company and used as a service vehicle, then laid up in the owner's back yard.

Karl Hansen grew up in the neighborhood, and he and other children often played in the Chevy's bungalow. In 1972, he asked the owner if he could buy it. Having turned down previous offers, the owner took a liking to Karl and accepted his offer, and even the impecunious teenager's time payment plan. Having fulfilled the $125 full price, Karl gave the truck a coat of white paint, reshingled the roof and began to participate in local parades and car shows.

By the mid-1990s, though, the Chevy had been sidelined as Karl bought and sold other collector cars. Finally, he decided its time had come and began a full restoration, replicating the original theme right down to the lettering and American flags on the roof.

Although about the same displacement as a Model T engine, the Chevy's ohv powerplant puts out 35 bhp, nearly double that of its rival. Its sliding gear transmission was more advanced, but otherwise the truck is quite primitive, with sparse instrumentation, an "armstrong" windshield wiper and rudimentary weather protection. The front doors are constructed like gates. It performs well, mostly due to light weight, as the 3.8 to 1 gearing is pretty tall for a truck. Karl has added a surveyor's transit to its equippage, as Titus and Bishop very likely used it to lay out their lots.

Mago Point eventually did go, but not until the 1950s. The lots now sprout plenty of big bungalows, and the original land office also survives, as an Italian restaurant.

The Big E

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 07:22:00 +0000

When I was young the favorite fall activity was attending the Springfield Fair. Officially the Eastern States Exposition, it was (and is) a surrogate state fair for the six New England colonies, each of which is too tiny to mount a state fair of midwestern proportions. For reasons I cannot explain, I had never been to Springfield Fair, or "Eastern States" as we sometimes called it, or the Big E as it is known now. So when my family asked what I wanted for my birthday, which occured earlier this month, I said "Take me to the Big E!"

The Big E began in 1916 as an agricultural show, and it remains substantially so today. It is held in West Springfield, Massachusetts, over 17 days in September and October. We arrived as the Jersey cows were entering the show ring, and took a stroll through the barns of sheep, goats, pigs and poultry. There's a large presence of FFA and 4H Clubs, dairy promotions and plenty of handicrafts. But agriculture takes machinery so not far from the gate we were greeted by vintage tractors. These were mainly Farmalls and John Deeres, but there was also an assortment of garden tractors. I was delighted to find an old friend, a Farmall F-12, just like the one I drove in my farming period, right down to the accessory overdrive for road travel.

I was surprised there were so few exhibits of new tractors, just a Bobcat among the backhoes and loaders, and a bevy of TYM tractors, a make I'd never heard of but which are built in Korea. New England is snow country, so of course there were snow plows aplenty and the first ever MXT International pickup I'd seen in person.

But what about cars? Were there cars at the Big E? Well, there was a Subway/Aflac Ford Fusion racer, with obligatory false face, and soon I stumbled across a slightly slammed AMC Hornet. It turned out to be one of the cars from the James Bond film The Man with the Golden Gun, a center-steer stunt car from the barrel roll scene, the work of stuntman and demo derby entrepreneur Jay Milligan.

It was Connecticut Day, so we went to the Connecticut building, and saw author Billy Steers autographing children's books with his own Tractor Mac Farmall Cub. Around the back was a mysterious 1929 Buick and a Camaro convertible ostensibly for Connecticut's Outstanding Teen, Acacia Courtney. The Connecticut State Police had an authentic 1958 Ford cruiser of the type I remember, correctly fitted out with lights, radio and three speed stick shift, just as I remember back in the day. They also had later generations of LTD cruisers and a current Crown Vic, and even one of the short run of Plymouths ordered by Governor Meskill back in the 1970s. A flock of Harley-Davidsons completed their display.

Close by was a GM Futurliner bus, now owned by Springfield's Peter Pan Bus Company, and a curious thing promoting Lupa Zoo, which displayed some of the customary characteristics of a car. And then there were trucks, from the local chapter of the American Truck Historical Society. Announcing that the national ATHS show is coming to the Big E grounds in 2012, they had assembled a good contingent, including an authentically-outfitted 1924 Model T huckster wagon. Chevrolet is the "official car" of the Big E, enshrined in Chevrolet Court and centerpiecing a new Camaro. Much play was given to the fuel cell Equinox and ethanol-drinking HHR.

But the Big E is hardly a car show. There's a big midway with rides, state exhibits like Massachusetts cranberries, and pitchmen for every concievable contraption, from floor mops to Sham Wow. We filled up on fair food, walked our feet off and had a thoroughly good time. You can, too. The Big E runs through October 4th.

Something for Everyone

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 07:07:00 +0000

I seldom go to car shows these days. Somehow, rows upon rows of muscle cars or Corvettes leave me somewhat jaded. I'd rather spend my time pursuing some arcane corner of automotive history. Last Sunday, however, was the annual show put on by the Greater Norwich Area Chamber of Commerce, not far from my Connecticut home. I hadn't been in some years, as the September date usually clashes with my near-annual trip to Beaulieu Autojumble, which I passed up this year so I could do the Morgan Centenary instead.

The Norwich show is held at Dodd Stadium, home of the Connecticut Defenders baseball team, although they're leaving the area. It's not the ideal place for a car show, as the field is all blacktop and there's no shade, but the day was nice so I went to take a look. I discovered one of the most unusual shows I've seen in a long time.

The first thing to catch my eye after leaving the entrance gate was a covey of Chrysler Crossfires. It didn't seem to be a class display; perhaps it was a Crossfire club. In any case, the orphaned model is bound to be tomorrow's collectible. Not far away, among the dealer displays, Norwich Public Utilities was showing off a brace of hybrid biodiesel bucket trucks.

The class judging areas were a veritable kaleidoscope of automotive serendipity. Not far from a tidy 1959 Rambler American with authentic swamp cooler was a full-blown '61 Chevy. There were real British sports cars, real-looking British sports cars, and unreal British sports cars. Connecticut is funny. Our state issues "Early American" license plates to cars that are unAmerican.

Not all was shiny. A 1937 Ford coupe looked too good to restore, and a 1957 Chevy Nomad looked too good to drive. A pair of unpretentious Ford trucks began a class of commercial vehicles that culminated in a big Mack. In between was a frog-colored and frog-eyed Dodge. In the imported vehicle class, a tricked-out Toyota Tercel competed against an odd-couple Bricklin and DeLorean (wearing consecutive license plates) and the obligatory Herbie replica.

There was no class for pre-1917 cars, so the 1911 Hupp, oldest car on the field, sat with 1920s cars and the two 1912 vehicles were off by themselves. The Model A class was pretty sparse, probably because some cars had left. Falcons were in good supply, and there were bevys of Thunderbirds from the 1960s and '70s. If there were Corvettes I missed them, and I gave short shrift to the muscle cars.

For the hot rod purists there was a Deuce Lowboy roadster, and for the Bowtie boys a big block '29 Chevy. Slammers had been at work on such oddities as a Cornbinder pickup and a '40 DeSoto, the latter giving me a dose of bittersweet nostalgia. There were vendors aplenty, but one had to look hard to find car parts among the crafts and household goods. The car I most wanted to take home? Probably this 1955 Studebaker Champion.

Good Sportsmanship

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 06:31:00 +0000

At first glance this may look like a Ford convertible without its skin. That's because it is a Ford convertible without its skin - the very heart and soul of a Ford Sportsman, actually. It's tempting to assume the Sportsman was a response to Chrysler's wonderful wood Town & Country, but actually the T&C and the Sportsman were developed nearly in parallel.

During World War II, Henry Ford II had a cut down Model A on which a wood runabout body was built at the factory for his Long Island beach house. HF II became rather fond of it and asked E.T. "Bob" Gregorie, the head designer, to come up with something similar for the postwar catalog. The result was the Sportsman, announced in September 1945, two months after the assembly lines resumed operation. Returning to full production, however, was a full-time task, so the first Sportsman wasn't delivered until December.

The understructure was the same as the standard convertible body, with precision-jointed wood on top. The bodies were produced at the same Iron Mountain mills and assembly works in Michigan's northern peninsula that had been supplying wood and building bodies for Ford station wagons since 1929.

The Sportsman had hydro-electric windows and top, and all had the postwar 59A-B 100 hp V8. Standard rear fenders and taillights wouldn't work, so fenders from the sedan delivery were used instead, with 1941 taillights. Seats were faced in genuine leather, in a choice of red, tan or blue-gray, but any pairing with exterior colors was possible, leading to some unlikely combinations. The trunk was enormous, at the price of a very large and heavy lid. Early models had the red-accented trim of 1946 and early '47, later ones the stylish translucent hood ornament.

There was also a Mercury Sportsman, in 1946 only. Just 205 were built before it was discontinued. The Ford Sportsman continued into 1947 and the 1948 model year, the last one built at the very end of 1947. Production, including the Mercurys, totaled just 3,692.

The cars shown here were part of the Nick Alexander Ford woodie collection, which was sold at auction on August 13th. Included were five Sportsman convertibles, one 1946 Ford and two from 1947. The single 1948 is believed to be the last Sportsman completed, and was owned by a San Diego school teacher for its first 35 years - until it was stolen from her garage. Pride of place, and high money for the sale ($368,500) was taken by this 1946 Mercury, interestingly with blackwall tires and neither radio nor heater. Mr. Alexander dislikes whitewalls, so few of his cars had them. He also prefers cars optioned the way they were first delivered, so some his cars had radio and heater, and others just one or the other.

All cars were sold at no reserve, the "lesser" convertibles bringing $214,500 to $275,000. In all, the collection of 51 cars grossed over $7 million. At sale's end, many collectors went home with some excellent and correctly-restored cars.

The full story of the Ford and Mercury Sportsman convertibles, as well as the wood-bodied station wagons, can be found in Lorin Sorensen's excellent book Famous Ford Woodies.

Full disclosure: As it says on my bio page, I neither appraise nor sell cars. I do, however, occasionally research and write about them, including the catalog for this sale.

Old Home Week

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 21:26:00 +0000

One neat thing about the internet is the way it can put you in touch with friends you haven't seen for many years. Not too long ago I heard from Midge Frueh Cortesi, whose father I used to work for in my Farmall era. We were able to share our memories of Falls Village, the northwest Connecticut hamlet where we grew up. Her sister, Lauriann Cardinali alerted me to a Falls Village automotive artifact on eBay, the photo that heads this feature.

Many of you will recognize it from its headlights as a Pierce-Arrow Model 33 from the early 1920s. It has been converted to a wrecker - you can see how it was cut down from a sedan in order to mount the wrecker boom. This was the fate of many old prestige cars in the 1930s - they were cheap, sturdy and powerful, well-suited to towing disabled cars or disentangling wrecks.

I remember Schreiber's Garage. We used to buy gas there, and have our car repaired. The Pierce wrecker was gone by the time we moved to town, replaced by a purpose-built 1935 Ford. I wondered, then, just when the photo was taken, so I began to look at it carefully.

The wrecker is parked in front of a small store on Main Street. The garage can be seen at the extreme right. The windows are open, so it must be a warm summer day. We can just see a car behind the wrecker, and on the car is a dealer plate (plates for new car dealers in Connecticut, then and now, start with X). Schreiber's was a Chrysler-Plymouth dealer, so not surprisingly the car is a Plymouth, a 1938 model, judging by the bumper guards. It looks pretty new and shiny, so perhaps the photo was taken that summer.

But there are other clues, in the shop window behind. The most obvious isn't much help. It advertises dry cleaning. But on the other side is a movie poster, from the Stuart Theater in nearby Lakeville. There's another one from the Colonial Theater in Canaan, the next town to the north. The Stuart burned on Christmas Day in 1958, but the Colonial is still standing - and operating.

On the posters, we can just make out the titles of two coming attractions, Lady of the Tropics and The Wizard of Oz. The extremely helpful Internet Movie Data Base tells us that Lady, starring Robert Taylor and Hedy Lamarr, opened on August 11, 1939. Wizard, starring Judy Garland, Frank Morgan, Ray Bolger and Bert Lahr, came two weeks later, on the 25th. So it is indeed a summer picture, taken at the end of July or beginning of August 1939.

Schreiber's closed around 1955. The owner had died, and his widow sold up and moved away. The building was later occupied by John Fitch & Co., headed by the renowned racing driver who built his Sprint conversions for Corvairs there, and developed the stillborn Phoenix by Fitch in 1966. It was later a grocery store. The building survives as 100 Main Street, home to Flying West Music, the studio of composer Joshua Stone.

So you can go home again, and the internet can take you there.

Hernando

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 20:18:00 +0000

I thought I knew all the cars of the 1930s, '40s and '50s - I'd been carspotting ever since I could remember. But the summer I turned 16 I came across one I'd not seen before. The grille was like that of the 1940 Pontiac, but different, in an attractive sort of way. A look at the nameplate showed me it was a DeSoto, a 1940 Custom sedan. It was parked at a gas station, for sale, and the price was a moderate (even then) $30. I had to have it.

So have it I did. I paid my $30 to the owner, who worked at the station and had traded up to a newer Studebaker Commander, borrowed a set of dealer plates, and my friend Gene, who was six months older and already had a license, drove it home for me.

I was elated. I named it "Hernando" for reasons that will be obvious to most CarPorters. The black paint was in fairly good shape, and both it and the chrome polished up well. On the other hand, the fact that we had to tow it to get it started was not encouraging, nor was the fact that the engine's casting plugs were weeping water, which the owner had tried to fix by filling them with window putty...

One of the rear wheel cylinders leaked, which I repaired without much trouble. The engine did not run evenly, though, and a compression check showed the rear two cylinders had none. "It needs a valve job," I decided (it was my valve job period, when all ills could be cured with a valve job). When I got the head off, I found the gasket was blown through between the two cylinders, which had also caused a water leak, which in turn had rusted a head bolt that broke when I tried to remove it.

There was also a burned exhaust valve on the front cylinder, so I bought a new valve, along with a head gasket, from the local DeSoto dealer. "Gawd," said the parts man, "that's 20 years old!" I thanked him for his wisdom.

More ominous than the burned valve was a chunk missing from the front piston. It hadn't scored the cylinder and I didn't relish dropping the pan to change it, so I put things back as best I could, drilled out the broken bolt, retapped the hole and buttoned it up. The engine ran better than before, though not as well as I'd hoped, and seemed to run a little hot.

Hernando looked good, though, all polished up. I painted the wheels red, imitating a treatment on 1950 Buicks that I liked, and bought a set of Port-o-Walls. I also attempted to dye the brown cloth seats red, not successfully as they came out a shade of purple. Still, I thought Hernando was handsome and got him properly registered for the road.

The first time I drove Hernando some distance, he blew out the weeping casting plug, and I had to retreat home while losing most of the water, which didn't seem to cause permanent damage. I replaced the plug with a bolt-in type. The car bounced badly - the shocks were shot - but the radio made lovely music, with deep booming bass notes and the Safety Signal speedometer changed color as the car went faster. After a few weeks, though, the engine began to make suspicious noises. I retreated to the Nash Rambler convertible that had been handed down by my mother, and left Hernando to sit outside the barn. We put the Port-o-Walls on my friend Tod's 1936 Plymouth, and the radio went into his Crosley. Over time, I parted Hernando out, fenders and bumpers to Texas, hubcaps to Massachusetts - and I've still got a few bits left.

It could be argued that I'd made a bad choice, thrown my money away because Hernando gave me so few miles for my investment. But I'd learned a lot, spent little more than $100 and had a good time doing it. Besides, Hernando had helped restore a number of other 1940 DeSotos. After all, that's what it's all about.

Morgan's Birthday Bash

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 23:07:00 +0000

Few automakers are celebrating these days. General Motors virtually ignored the corporate the corporate centenary in 2008, and not a whimper has been heard of a 75th anniversary observance for Chrysler, be it Corporation or LLC. Ironically, the biggest bash has been reserved for what might be the least of them: the Morgan Motor Company of Malvern Link, Worcestershire, England.

It is fitting that Morgan should celebrate, not only the company's survival under family management but also its status as the last vestige of the indiginous British motor industry. To that end, the company and the several Morgan clubs mounted a huge centenary celebration comprising more than a week of activities. In addition to the church service held in the Morgans' home village of Stoke Lacy, Jill and I attended the final event, a convocation of thousands of Morgans at Cheltenham Race Course on Sunday, August 2nd.

Throughout the morning Morgans queued for entry, and by early afternoon there were Morgans as far as the eye could see. They came from nearby France and Belgium, from Norway, Austria and Spain. They came across the seas from Canada, British Columbia, in fact, and from Victoria in Australia. Satoru Araki, of the Morgan Enthusiasts Club Japan, brought his Morgan home to Britain for the first time in 30 years.

Perhaps most interesting were the three-wheel Morgans on display. Their owners are some of the least pretentious of enthusiasts, their cars lovingly preserved, not restored, and frequently driven. This 1924 Standard Popular, owned by Brian Betts, is considered a National Treasure, never restored but simply "sympathetically maintained." Other venerable three-wheelers included an Aero model, Ford-engine F-Type and a nifty little van.

Of particular note was the one-off Plus 4 saloon, built by Cooper Bodies of London in 1952. There were also two examples of the much-maligned Plus 4 Plus, the late Peter Morgan's unsuccessful 1960s attempt at updated Morgan styling. Poorly received by purists, just 26 of the fiberglass bodies were built before a fire destroyed the molds. Considering the current Aeromax coupe, it just may have been a car ahead of its time.

The Morgan Motor Company had a showroom tent with current models and other concepts, including a replica of the original 1909 prototype, a fuel cell LIFEcar, a bright orange Aeromax and some toy three-wheelers. Outside were some significant Morgans like Peter Morgan's Plus 8 AB16, and his late wife's Plus 8 convertible coupe, the only such model and probably the only Morgan with an automatic transmission.

Specialty Morgans included one in German police colors (but right-hand drive and with British registration) and a "Morgan" golf car. Concours judging had taken place on Saturday, and winning cars were proudly wearing their ribbons.

Throughout the day, enthusiasts were competing in AutoSolo events, a British form of Autocross, while family members had the option of amusement rides, slot car racing (with Morgan slot cars, of course) and various types of music. Clowns on stilts and riding bicycles wandered through the grounds and the obligatory steam traction engine did its thing. One could purchase Morgan art work, or meet and join some of the Morgan clubs. Some folks, however, were content just to picnic among all the Morgans.

We left before the evening entertainments, which included the English Symphony Orchestra, but counted the day a success. Not only had we seen thousands of Morgans, including many rare ones, but I had figured out why the Aero 8 design has finally grown on me. The first models had an unattractive cross-eyed look. With a new headlamp design, the strabismus has been largely corrected.

Taking Your Morgan to Church

noreply@blogger.com (Kit Foster) — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 07:05:00 +0000

The apocryphal low-mileage car that was "driven only to church on Sundays" is unlikely to be a sports car. It might, however, be a Morgan, for Morgans have a long history with the church. The marque's founder, H.F.S. Morgan, was the son and grandson of clergymen, and he religiously returned to his birthplace each week for church and Sunday dinner. On the way home he tested each car on a steep hill leading out of the village.

Last week, Morgan, the sole remaining British-owned automaker, observed its centenary, so it was fitting that the village of Stoke Lacy, Herefordshire, where H.F.S. was raised, celebrated with the company and enthusiasts from all over the world with a service at the village church.

The Church of St. Peter and St. Paul has special significance for Jill and me, as we were married there 35 years ago this June. It is special to Morgans, for the Reverend Henry Morgan was rector there for 16 years and his son Henry George for another 50. H.F.S., his parents, siblings and son are all buried in the churchyard, and over the years the Morgans have been consistent benefactors - one only has to look at the windows to realize it. Some years ago, a memorial window was dedicated to Morgan enthusiasts from California, and in 2005 another window was dedicated to Peter Morgan, H.F.S.'s son and successor, the Plus 8 and the Morgan factory in nearby Malvern Link.

This year's service, held on 30th July, drew many Morgans, in town for the celebrations, owners from all over the world, and villagers who value their Morgan connections. Charles Morgan (at right), Peter's son and the current managing director, delivered one of the readings, and the Reverend Michael Smith, retired rector of Stoke Lacy and himself the spouse of a Morgan owner, gave an inspired address about the contributions of the Morgan Motor Company and the Morgan car to the development of transportation. The congregation sang four hymns in spirited fashion, and parishioners delighted in meeting enthusiasts who regard Stoke Lacy as doubly hallowed ground.

The church and lychgate were specially decorated, and Morgans clogged the lane. Attending were such notables as Harry Out, head of the Dutch Morgan club and his wife Helga, driving their Morgan 4/4, and Andrew Duncan, solicitor for the Morgan Motor Company and current custodian of Peter Morgan's last car, the Plus 8 registered AB16.

Across the road, in the driveway of The Old Rectory where H.F.S. grew up, were Charles Morgan's own Aeromax coupe and a Morgan Plus Four that had made the pilgrimage from Massachusetts. The people of Stoke Lacy are proud of their Morgan heritage. It was good to see so many Morgan enthusiasts enjoy it with them.