Saturn reached for the stars

Automobile brands abandoned by their parent company are an integral part of the story of the American automobile industry.

Even the Sky Roadster of 2008 was unable to draw enough consumer interest to sustain Saturn.

THE rise and fall of Saturn is a particularly interesting story - to a degree it mirrors the short-lived history of Ford’s Edsel.

It begins in 1982 General Motors when initiated an extensive study of the current and potential market for a small car built with the US domestic market in mind. This included styling considerations, projected trends, and the influence of Japanese and European automobile manufacturers on the American market.

The following year at a press conference about the project, then chairman Roger Smith announced plans to create a subcompact line of vehicles that would offer a direct challenge to imports.

The vehicles would be sold under the Saturn name, a reference to the rockets that had carried Americans to the Moon. True to his word, in near record time, the first Saturn prototype was readied for showing in 1984.

The project was placed on the fast track. The Saturn Corporation, also known as Saturn LLC, was established on January 7, 1985, as a GM subsidiary. Spring Hill, Tennessee, had been selected as the site for a state-of-the-art production and distribution facility. Then Joseph Sanchez died just three weeks after he was named Saturn's first president. In retrospect it was perceived to be an ill omen.

GM proved its commitment to the endeavor when ground was broken at Spring Hill and construction of a $1.9-billion manufacturing plant commenced in 1986. A few months later the Saturn logo was created and trademarked. Then in 1988, with great fanfare and extensive media coverage, the ribbon was cut for the revolutionary manufacturing facility at Spring Hill and 3,000 workers commenced to build the car of the future.

The innovative Z-body was developed entirely in-house at Saturn. Aside from the space frame design used on some Pontiacs during the 1980s it shared little with the rest of the General Motors model line. As the side panels did not carry a load, they were made of plastic polymer instead of metal. The dent and corrosion-resistant properties of the panels was incorporated into advertising campaigns.

Meanwhile GM had initiated an extensive program to establish a network of dedicated Saturn dealers and dealers that would add the new car to their line of offered General Motors products. In 1990 an extensive marketing campaign Saturn that focused on a brand-wide "no haggle" sales technique was launched to coincide with commencement of sales.

Production facilities, use of plastic body panels and visionary marketing campaigns were not only the innovative things about Saturn. The UAW (United Auto Workers) and GM initiated a series of meetings in 1983 to negotiate a labor agreement. In 1985 announcement was made that a labor accord for the Saturn operation had been completed. It included unprecedented terms including a twenty percent pay cut for workers at the Spring Hill factory in exchange for guaranteed profit-sharing and bonuses based on attainment of production and quality goals. Certain other rights pertaining to seniority, work rules, grievance procedures, were also modified.

The second cloud in the company’s bright future occurred in 1991 when an engine coolant problem necessitated the replacement of 1,836 Saturn’s. As with the Edsel, these issues tarnished the new cars reputation, made potential customers consider other available models, and created a public relations nightmare.

The Aura RX sedan was intended to achieve volume penetration. It didn’t.

This proved to be a minor setback. In early 1992 the company announced the sale of the 100,000th Saturn. Later that year Saturn was placed at the top of the list in the J.D. Power Customer Satisfaction index list. Then only a few months later the embryonic company was dealt another blow when it was announced that more than 300,000 Saturn’s were being recalled for the repair of an electrical issue.

Still Saturn reported its first profitable year in 1994. Again, much like what happened to Edsel, sales did not meet projections. As a result, there was a lay off at the Spring Hill production facility and production was curtailed. This was part of a company-wide reorganization that included the folding of Saturn into GM's Small Car Group.

But the company continued working on innovative programs and marketing campaigns to develop brand loyalty. One of the most novel of these initiatives was the Saturn Homecoming.

In the spring of 1994, the company invited 605,000 Saturn owners to Spring Hill for a celebration of the owners, the vehicles, and the people that built them. More than 38,000 people accepted the invitation. The only states not represented by owners were Wyoming, North Dakota, and Montana-the only states where Saturn had no dealers. L.B. Tseng, a Saturn dealer from Taipei, Taiwan, held a drawing among his customers and awarded 20 of them with a free trip to the homecoming, a promotion that cost him $50,000.

It was an unprecedented two-day event. There were bands, singers, magicians, and a firework display with "God Bless America" and "America the Beautiful" as background music. Blacksmiths gave demonstrations. Tattoo artists were available to provide an unforgettable souvenir. Angie Weaver and Curt Natter, two young Saturn dealership employees from Pennsylvania chose the occasion to get married before a chaplain of the United Auto Workers union. Saturn President Richard LeFauve said, “This is the first owner recall in the history of the auto industry."

The Saturn, like the Edsel, should have been a success. The S-Series produced until replacement by the Ion line in 2003 won numerous awards. Powered by a 1.9-liter four-cylinder single cam or dual cam engine paired with five-speed automatic or four-speed manual transmissions, the cars developed a cult like following. MotorWeek, Automobile Magazine, J.D. Power & Associates, and Motor Trend praised the car in feature articles. More than 2 million S-Series were produced.

 Still, by 2000 Saturn had lost its identity. The midsize L-Series in sedan and station wagon body styles was produced at a GM plant in Delaware. They were based on the Opel Vectra.

In a valiant attempt to keep the brand alive, General Motors expanded the Saturn line. The Vue was introduced as a crossover in 2002. In 2005 the Relay minivan debuted. Two years later the stunning Sky roadster was offered.

But GM was in a dire financial condition. The company was losing billions of dollars and facing bankruptcy. When GM chairman Rick Wagoner testified before a Congressional banking committee, he explained that the company was in the process of streamlining by concentrating on its four core brands: Cadillac, Buick, GMC, and Chevrolet.

 Saturn was doomed. Following GM’s bankruptcy and restructuring in 2009, the company attempted to sell Saturn. The only interested party was race car driver Roger Penske. The negotiations were stillborn when a deal to have Nissan-Renault supply cars to Saturn collapsed. With little ceremony GM quietly halted production of Saturn on October 1, 2009, and officially discontinued the line on October 31, 2010.

But just as with other orphans Saturn lives on. It still retains a staunch loyalty from owners. And a new generation of enthusiasts, many of whom were not yet born when the car debuted, have discovered the durable and sporty Saturn coupes. They have spawned a cottage industry of aftermarket and used parts.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Mitchell – a short lived dream

This brand grew big, fast … then America was hit by a post-WWI recession.

 MAKERS showing great promise and innovation that vanished with little to mark their passing.

The history of the American auto industry is littered with such stories.

Consider the Mitchell, manufactured in Racine, Wisconsin.

As with many early automotive companies, the Mitchell evolved from a successful wagon works. The Mitchell and Lewis Wagon Company launched a subsidiary bicycle company, the Wisconsin Wheel Works, in the mid-1890s to capitalize on the national mania for the two wheelers. By 1900 the company had diversified into the production of motorcycles. This opened the door for the manufacture of automobiles.

Shortly after initiation of automobile production in 1903, the company abandoned the manufacture of cycles, both peddle and motorized. The wagon-building portion of the company, reorganized as Mitchell and Lewis Company, continued in operation until 1917 when it was acquired by Deere and Company. Further diversification came in 1905 with the production of buses and trucks, a division of the company discontinued after 1908. These are but a few examples of what separated Mitchell from the multitude of companies there were being organized.

The initial automotive offerings by Mitchell were two distinctly different models; a two cylinder, four-horsepower, chain-driven version with left-hand side tiller steering and seven horsepower model with two speed planetary transmission and a steering wheel, on the right-hand side.

In its second year as an automobile manufacturer the company again offered two distinctly different models. One was two cylinders and the other four. Both were air-cooled. The following year the customer could choose between water and air-cooled models.

A similar array of choices was available throughout much of the companies’ history. As an example, for 1910 buyers could choose between two four-cylinder models or the six-cylinder Model S. Then in 1916, the company offered a six-cylinder, promoted as the “Six of ‘16,” and an innovative V8-powered model.

The Mitchell was classified as an assembled car as many components were purchased from outside sources. Even so, from its inception, the owners of the company took great pride that Racine-based companies produced most everything used in the car’s construction. They also took pride in building a quality vehicle with a reputation for durability that sold for a mid-range price.

Production figures indicate that the consumer agreed, this was a good car for the money. For 1904, the first full year of production, the company produced 82 vehicles, the following year 315, and the year after 666. The annual geometric progression of sales continued through the company’s zenith in 1919 when annual production topped 10,000 vehicles.

But the era of independent manufacturers was drawing to a close. The post WWI recession of 1919, restrictions on the supply of steel, the growing market dominance of giants such as General Motors, Ford, and Nash began taking their toll on the smaller companies, and Mitchell was not exempted. Coupled with these issues was increasingly dated styling that failed to ignite excitement with the potential customer.

In 1920, sales plummeted to a mere 2500 units; the following year was no better. Profits followed the collapse of sales and in the summer of 1923, Mitchell entered bankruptcy.

 As an succinct epitaph the January 1924 issue of Automobile Topics noted: “Factories of the old Mitchell Motor Company are now entirely dismantled and consequently there passes from the industry a name that was once familiar to everyone, and a concern that in the early days was a real factor in the business.”

As Mitchell was just one of dozens of automobile manufacturers that was closing its doors, it is not surprising that the company was quickly forgotten.

The final chapter came the following month with the sale of the former Mitchell factory to Nash. Production of the Ajax, another forgotten chapter in automotive history, commenced shortly afterwards.

The demise of the independent auto manufacturer was a long one, a slow process of rank thinning that began with the demise of Mitchell and Columbia, Jackson and Briscoe, and dozens of other companies. The ranks were further decimated during the dark days of the Great Depression. It culminated with the demise of AMC that, ironically, was using some of the old Mitchell production facilities for the manufacture of components.   

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Call me a cab – the Checker story

How the industriousness of a destitute Russian immigrant drove America’s most famous taxi.

 FOR every Louis Chevrolet, Horace Dodge, David Buick, or Henry Ford there are a dozen automotive innovators and pioneers whose obscurity is astounding, especially considering their many contributions.

Looming large in the pantheon of forgotten innovators is Morris Markin, a Russian immigrant who created an American icon. His story as well as that of the cars his company built are one of the most enigmatic in the history of the American automobile industry.

The legend of Checker begins in the post WWI economic recession that decimated the auto industry. The owner of Lomberg Auto Body Manufacturing in Joliet, Illinois, had overextended himself with diversification into the manufacturing of taxi bodies for Commonwealth Motors, a company that sold the completed taxis under the Mogul name. In need of capital, he turned to a successful Chicago businessman and friend, Morris Markin, who provided $US15,000 in exchange for an interest in the company.

That is the first mystery. Markin had arrived in America as a destitute Russian immigrant less than a decade before. He had found employment with an uncle who was a tailor in Chicago. Together they had built a profitable company. Still, how is possible that Markin had this amount of money to invest in a struggling auto body manufacturing company?

The influx of capital provided by Markin offered but a brief respite. The difficult economic times and a marked decline in sales as well as the rising costs for raw materials crippled Lomberg Auto Body. To recoup his investment Markin assumed controlling interest in the company and reorganized it as Markin Auto Body Corporation. Still, the company’s primary customer Commonwealth Motors was on the cusp of imminent financial collapse. They were unable to pay for a shipment of taxi bodies already delivered which in turn pushed Markin to the brink of bankruptcy.  

An order for a fleet of Mogul taxis by the Checker Taxi Company of Chicago, a consortium of independent operators offered a ray of hope. However, before production could be initiated demand for payment by suppliers and other creditors forced Commonwealth Motors to enter bankruptcy.

In a deft and complex move, Markin utilized the assets of Markin Auto Body and the pending order by Checker to secure adequate financing for the purchase of Commonwealth Motors from the bankruptcy trustees in October 1921. Then in May of the following year he reorganized the companies as the Checker Cab Manufacturing Company.  

Fast forward six decades. On July 12, 1982, the last Checker rolled from the factory in Kalamazoo, Michigan and vehicles produced by the most independent of the independent manufacturers became another orphan. This is the beginning and the end of the story. In between are sixty years of fascinating vehicles, innovation, and a dizzying number of unanswered questions.

Did Checker ever build something other than taxis during the company’s infancy? That is the unanswered question behind a 1925 advertisement in the Automobile Blue Book, a leading route guide of the period. The text of the promotional piece reads, “A car must be sturdy, long-lived, economical on upkeep and performance, also easy riding to do Blue Book road drafting all over the country and the Checkers are giving satisfaction.”

The illustration is of a Checker roadster with, “Automobile Blue Books Official Car” lettered on the side. This a car that that the company never officially produced. Were they built as a special-order project? This vehicle may have been the first manifestation of the company’s development of niche market vehicles that became a hallmark of Checker.

Another enigmatic chapter would be the production of trucks. The company did produce a limited number of stake bed trucks utilizing the standard chassis of the Model M that had been introduced in 1930 as well as sheet metal from the front doors forward. The question, however, is how many of the trucks were manufactured and in what years. There are vague hints that some trucks were also built on the platform of the Model M replacement, models T, K and L.

Another intriguing vehicle is the MU6 Suburban Utility introduced in June 1931. This may have been the ultimate utility vehicles of the era. In long wheelbase configuration, advertisement proclaimed the vehicle was a nine passenger, one-ton station wagon that quickly converted to a package car or hearse! Do any of these survive?

The Model A taxi introduced in 1940 was revolutionary and fascinating. Its retractable rear roof section was patented as were more than 18 other components. The cars styling that was crafted by Raymond Dietrich ensured that the vehicle would never be mistaken for anything else on the road.

The company is best known for its taxis. But Checker was involved in array of intriguing projects. As an example, working with American Bantam to create a light duty, all terrain scout car prototype for United States Army testing the company developed a four-wheel drive, four-wheel steering vehicle in 1940. An existent model is on display at the Gilmore Museum in Hickory Corners, Michigan.

In preparation for the post war market, Checker developed several prototype taxis with front wheel drive and a transverse mounted engine in 1946. In the mid-1950s the company developed and tested taxis with diesel engines. In the late 1960s the company offered as an option, Perkins diesel engines.

Taxis, and intriguing niche market vehicles, are all a part of the fascinating Checker story. But so is the question riddled story of Markin’s attempts to buy out John Hertz’s Yellow Cab Manufacturing Company, and what led Hertz to sell to General Motors. Another intriguing story is the intertwined relationship with E.L. Cord that led to an investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission.

The rarity of pre 1958 Checker vehicles has contributed to the company’s obscurity, and to the mystique. Underlying the scarcity of early model Checker built vehicles is Markin’s unique business model.

Beginning in the mid-1930s, Markin began accepting used taxis as trade ins. These were refurbished and then sold to overseas customers in Turkey, Tahiti, Scandinavian countries, and in Africa. Recently two exceedingly rare 1950 Model A4 Checkers were discovered in a Norwegian farm field.

Checker is truly an American icon. It was the ultimate independent auto manufacturer. And the cars that have survived are treasured by their owners.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleys

When selling sizzle was truly an art

The methods for marketing cars have changed dramatically over the years.

MUCH has been written on the early technological development of the automobile, the visionaries who moved it from circus sideshow curiosity to necessity, and the dramatic societal changes wrought by replacement of the horse and buggy.

Curiously, a vital component in this transition from stirrup to throttle and public acceptance of the automobile is seldom given more than cursory examination.

In the beginning automotive advertisement was as primitive as the machines that they promoted. Patent medicine and shoes were often promoted with more enthusiasm than the automobile. The automobile was marketed with dry and wordy advertisement void of illustration. Filled with technical terms and scientific terminology they were as exciting as an insurance seminar.  

As an example, an advertisement for the 1900 Porter Stanhope begins with a banner headline proclaiming that this was “The Only Perfect Automobile.” A small pen and ink portrayal of the vehicle and a notation of weight and price was followed by several hundred words of text. “A handsome, stylish vehicle which can be started instantly and without previous laborious or lengthy preparation, can be stopped promptly, can be run at any speed up to twenty-five miles per hour …”

An advertisement from 1903 is more than stark in its simplicity. “The Jaxon – Steam is Reliable and Easily Understood.”

Another from 1903 presents only a side view illustration of the car followed by the address of the manufacturer and, “Wanamaker Automobiles – The New Searchmont.”

 Many leading proponents of the automobile openly questioned the need for manufacturers to advertise at all. In 1897, Edward Goff, editor of the The Motorcycle, asked that question in the May issue and answered it by saying, “…it would require volumes to produce arguments in its favor. The manufacturer of the motorcycle is in a position to take advantage of more free advertising than any other industry.”

When it came to automotive advertisement, initially not even increasing competition, dramatic technological evolution, and a rapidly changing public perception of the automobile changed this school of thought. However, a few astute businessmen, such as Ernest Elmo Calkins, felt that the establishment of artistic standards as well as tailoring promotion to target a select market would benefit a manufacturer. He also felt that that this would give an automobile company an advantage over the competition and that the company that provided this promotional service would have unlimited potential for profit.

And so, in 1908 he partnered with Ralph Holden and launched Calkins and Holden, the first American advertising company to focus exclusively on automobile promotion. The company’s first customer was Pierce-Arrow.

The work of this pioneering advertising agency elevated the concept of automobile promotion above the perception that it was a pulp mill for wordsmiths’ incapable of earning a living as a writer. It also provided new opportunities for artists that earned their living from the creation of paintings used for penny post cards, posters, or book illustrations.

Active recruitment of artists for promotion of the Pierce-Arrow by Calkins and Holden was the first step towards establishment of the artistic standards envisioned by Elmo Calkins several years before. This was also an industry first.

Among the renowned artists who lent their talents to the promotion of Pierce-Arrow for the agency were Edward Borein, a master of western art in the style of Remington, and Ludwig Hohlwein, the leading German poster painter of the time.

Other artists included Newell Convers whose illustrative work for the books penned by Robert Louis Stevenson had made him legendary, and Joseph Leyendecker, famous for this Saturday Evening Post covers.

The resultant work was stunning, capable of conveying the message that Pierce-Arrow was not an average automobile for the average buyer. As the advertisements had few or no words, they stood in stark contrast to what had been the industry standard. In an instant, the Victoria era of advertisement was rendered antiquated and dusty.

What Calkins & Holden did for art in automotive advertisement Edward “Ned” Jordan did for colorful, concise, inspiring word pictures. Jordan began honing his skills for the development of automotive advertisement in the summer of 1907 for the Thomas B. Jeffery and Company, manufacturer of the successful Rambler, a company owned by his wife’s family.

In January of 1916, Jordan announced his resignation from Thomas B. Jeffery and Company and that he would soon be forming a company for the manufacture of automobiles. The resultant Jordan was a fine automobile that would most likely have faded into obscurity with the hundreds of other forgotten cars that were built during this period if it had not been for the advertising and marketing genius of the company’s namesake.

In a brilliant move the first advertisement for the Jordan appeared jointly in Motor Age and The Automobile with neither giving the identity of the company other than the trademarked Jordan Arrowhead in bright red. The advertisements were old fashioned with no photos, just concise well-chosen words that stirred the imagination. A footnote that inquiries for purchase or dealership opportunity were to be forwarded to either publication followed. The next week’s advertisement featured the Jordan name and an eight-page insert entitled, “The Realization of a Great Ideal.”

This format of teaser followed with full-blown descriptive promotion would become a hallmark of Jordan advertisement. However, the true legacy of Ned Jordan is the advertisements composed of stunning word pictures designed to stir the imagination.

“Smart Designs for Smart Folks” “The Jordan Silhouette – Women, with a natural appreciation of comfort, atmosphere and poise …” “Someday in June, when happy hours abound, a wonderful girl and a wonderful boy will leave their friends in a shower of rice …” “Somewhere west of Laramie there is a bronco busting, steer roping girl who knows what I’m talking about …”

Cadwallader Kelsey, the brilliant sales manager for Maxwell-Briscoe, laid the next foundational stone for the development of automotive specific advertisement. Stunting for sales had been an integral part of automotive promotion at least since 1896 when the Duryea Motor Wagon received top billing over the albino, dog boy, and fat lady at the Barnum and Bailey Circus.

Kelsey honed and perfected promotional stunts into a veritable art form. As an example, in Philadelphia, location for his first agency, Maxwell automobiles drove up the steps to the classiest restaurants in town, on a thousand-mile trip up and down Broad Street, and countless other stunts with banners flying. Then he added a modern twist with the hiring of Lubin Film Studios to capture the stunts for showing at nickelodeons. The filmed automobile commercial was born. 

Completing the foundation of modern automotive promotion was the development of slogan usage. Initially these slogans focused on a cars ability to overcome the difficulties of the pioneering motorist. As a result, they today serve as wondrous time capsules.

For the Jackson “No Hill Too Steep, No Sand Too Deep” and the Pope-Toledo was the “Quiet Mile A Minute Car.”  The Allen was “The King of Hill Climbers.”

With the establishment of customer loyalty and standardization of the industry, the honing of slogans and jingles into messages that provided instant association for a manufacturer became an integral part of any promotional campaign. Cadillac has been “The Standard of the World” for almost a century. “Ask the Man Who Owns One” left little doubt that Packard owners were satisfied customers. The Lozier was, “The Choice of Men Who Know.”

Quantum leaps in automotive technology made cars dependable and less costly to operate than a wagon and team. This in turn gave way to a rise in the supportive infrastructure needed for automotive usage to be practical beyond the confines of urban areas.

The development of automotive advertisement, however, was key in the transformation of the automobile from a household luxury to a necessity, from sideshow curiosity to a multimillion-dollar business, and from the dream of eccentrics to a reality of steel and glass. It was automotive advertisement that encouraged people to “See the USA in a Chevrolet,” and to think about the “Ford in Your Future.”

  Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Powells’ sport wagon – it looked to the future and relied on the past

Sports utilities are now a global success story. In the 1950s’, however, they were very much an oddity – not least the Powell, a new vehicle relying on recycled parts.

THERE is little to indicate the Powell brothers, Channing and Hayward, were overly imaginative individuals - nor could they be considered visionaries.

It is most apt, perhaps, to call them ‘opportunists’. The brothers Powell were astute and successful businessmen who capitalised on a need.

It was their ability to spot profitable trends that prompted their initial automotive related venture in 1926, the production of light delivery scooters with optional sidecars for use in the increasingly urban environment of Los Angeles.

In post-World War II California, they saw opportunity in the rise of suburbia. This was the catalyst for their most ambitious venture, the production of a light duty, multipurpose utility vehicle that was inexpensive to purchase as well as to operate.

After careful deliberation, the brothers determined that the most profitable way to capitalize on what they perceived to be a lucrative niche marker was the utilisation of an existent chassis and other components.

This would enable the company to produce a light utility vehicle, with a sales price of less than $1000. To this end, the first operational prototype completed in 1952 utilised a refurbished 1940 Chevrolet sedan chassis and a Powell designed pickup truck body with fibreglass bonnet and wooden bumpers.

By the time production commenced the Powell brothers had decided the 1941 Plymouth chassis would better suite their needs. Unlike the Chevrolet these cars had an open drive shaft rather than torque tube, a more modern brake system, and independent front suspension. They also had full pressure oil systems and insert rather than babbitt bearings. Another factor was the availability of donor vehicles in wrecking yards throughout the southern California area.

The first production Powell, a “Sport Wagon” truck, like the Chevrolet Suburban, rolled from the plant in October of 1954. Almost immediately, the narrow focus on 1941 chassis expanded to include any six-cylinder Mopar through 1950 as well as industrial engines cannibalised from equipment such as forklifts.

With exception of the fibreglass bonnet and grille, and wooden bumpers and tailgates, the Powell was all steel but still weighed 200 pounds (90 kilograms) less than the standard 1941 Plymouth sedan.

The trucks stood sixty-eight inches (172cm) high, rode on 6.00x16 inch wheels and tires, and had an overall length of 168 inches (426cm). As production began in earnest the decision was made to continue using polished oak for the bumpers, and painted oak for the tailgate, on the sport wagon as well as a pick up truck.

The options list was relatively short; turn signals, chromed wheel discs and two-tone paint in combinations of white, red, green, and yellow. One of the more fascinating options was a concealed tube built into the right rear fender, running lengthwise, for carrying fishing poles and similar items. Another was an in-house built pop up camper for the pickup truck that made up for the 200-pound weight savings.

Production of Powell trucks began with the removal of bodies and the rebuild of all usable parts from the Mopar chassis including steering and suspension components. Engines were rebuilt and bench tested, and transmissions received new seals as well as replacement of worn gears. New wheel bearings were installed, and the rear differential was rebuilt.

The steel components of the Powell bodies, all built on special jigs, were then fitted to the rebuilt chassis, fiberglass components were formed and attached, new gauges were installed in the donor cars dash faceplate. Unlike with contemporary trucks, the cab and box were integral units.

The completed vehicle was rated a quarter ton truck. The originally target sales price was missed but still that base list price was $US1095, and $US1198 for the deluxe configuration. Included in this price was a 90-day or 4,000-mile warranty on all mechanical components.

Motor Trend magazine extensively road tested a Powell Sport Wagon in 1956. Their writer’s impressions were mixed but editor Walt Moron, the primary driver, felt there was merit in this niche market vehicle.

Even though sales were barely adequate to keep the limited production capabilities of the company busy, the positive response to the line of trucks and wagons led the brothers to revive ideas to produce a lightweight, small self-contained motor home. They had initially toyed with the idea shortly before WWII. Two prototypes were built in 1956 but plans for production were suspended after it was determined that building the Nomad would exceed production capacity and possibly jeopardize the truck project.

Still, in the late fall of 1956 the last Powell trucks rolled from the Compton, California plant. It was not financial instability of the company that ended production of the short-lived Powell. Nor was it a lack of sales as the company had orders for several hundred trucks when it closed its doors. It was that the supply of readably available donor vehicles was exhausted, and the company management deemed it cost prohibitive to consider another type of vehicle.

The Powell scooter was largely a local product with many sales being in the Los Angeles and San Diego area. Despite national publicity, a requirement that vehicles be picked up from the Compton factory resulted in most Powell trucks being sold to buyers in southern California and the southwest.

Powell pickup trucks and wagons were relatively scarce when new. Attrition and time have greatly thinned the ranks but those that remain stand as mute testimony to the contributions of independent thinking.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

The man behind Hudson

Roy Chapin was instrumental in the expansion of the American automobile industry.  

ROY Dikeman Chapin was one of those inexhaustible men who seem to wring 48 hours out of every 24 hour day.

His tragic death from pneumonia in 1936, at the age of 56, ended an utterly amazing and diverse career that spanned the automotive industry, highway development, politics and banking.

Born on February 23, 1880 in Lansing, Michigan, Chapin attended the University of Michigan where he studied business. In 1901 he accepted a position at Olds Motor Works but most of the work was initially menial that had little to do with his areas of expertise. For $35 a month his primary tasks were take publicity photographs, run errands, and file gears. Still, Ransom E. Olds was an excellent teacher and had an eye for recognizing untapped talents. Chapin was an eager and observant student.

During his five years with the company Chapin rose through the ranks, learned about automobile manufacturing, marketing, labour management, financing and distribution. In 1904 he became the company’s national sales manager.

A career changing event for Chapin took place in 1901 when Ransom Olds asked him to drive one of the new curved dash Oldsmobile cars to New York City for the second annual Auto Show. The grueling 820-mile trip took a full week to complete. Rutted, rocky and muddy roads, and in some rural areas a scarcity of gasoline, proved to be major obstacles to overcome.

Still, the trip which proved the mechanical prowess of the car brought much fame and recognition to the “Merry Oldsmobile” which was priced at $650. And this fueled a meteoritic rise in sales from 425 vehicles in 1901 to 2500 in 1902. By 1904, Oldsmobile was the largest manufacturers of automobiles in the United States.

The adventure made Chapin a subject of interest for journalists and provided networking opportunities with manufacturing pioneers. And this adventure also played a pivotal role in his work with the establishment and development of good roads associations that commenced in earnest in 1904. His crowning achievement in this endeavor was an association with Henry B. Joy of the Packard Motor Car Company that spearhead construction of the Lincoln Highway, the nation’s first coast to coast automobile highway.

One of Chapin’s greatest attributes was diplomacy and his ability to move fluidly between competing entities without recrimination or lasting animosity. When the Smith family, majority shareholders in the Olds Motor Works, and the companies’ founder, Ransom E. Olds reached an impasse about what direction to pursue, Chapin maintained a long an amicable friendship with both parties even after Olds left his namesake company and the Smith family promoted him to general manager.   

His diverse contacts in the automotive industry and in media, and skills honed during his tenure at Olds Motor Works were the foundation for his next automotive endeavor, the development of Thomas Detroit. But this as well as his work at Chalmers Detroit were merely a stepping-stone on his path to automotive tycoon.  

In 1909, with the partnership of former Olds Motor Works alumni George Dunham, Roscoe Jackson, and Howard Coffin, and with financing from department store magnate Joseph L. Hudson, Chapin launched his greatest automotive venture to date. The resultant Hudson Motor Company would quickly become an industry leader in technological development, and by 1929, one of the nation’s largest automobile manufacturers.  

Aside from taking an active role in the management, engineering development and marketing of Hudson, Chapin was also serving on the executive committee of the Lincoln Highway Association and writing feature articles about the importance of a nationwide system of all-weather roads and the how the automobile was enhancing American society for numerous publications including the Saturday Evening Post. And he traveled extensively to promote Hudson as well as the work of goods roads associations.

Chapin steered the Hudson company from its infancy, through the post WWI economic recession, and ensured that the company was an industry leader in the areas of production as well as technological development. He also was instrumental in the launch and development of the Hudson Super Six in 1916, and the Essex line that included the industry leading Essex Coach. Edsel Ford noted that the coach transformed the buying habits of the consumer from seasonal to all year round and credited this car for record winter sales throughout the industry.

Few things attest to Chapin’s remarkable ability to maintain long-term relationships with business associates than the one that he shared with the Ford family. With Edsel, he developed a close friendship as well as business relationship and with Henry, he earned a grudging respect. He also retained a friendship with Ransom E. Olds, and a working relationship with Charles Nash, Walter Chrysler, and other leaders in the auto industry.

A blemish on his record for integrity resulted from his association and managerial position with the controversial Guardian Group, a complicated investment vehicle consisting of banks, holding companies, and automotive finance entities established in the mid-1920s. He and others involved in this endeavor included men involved with the direct management of Oldsmobile, General Motors, Chrysler, Ford, Studebaker, and as well as leading Detroit and Chicago banks. There were also questionable political associations.

With the dramatic stock market collapse in October 1929, and economic contraction that commenced in earnest in 1931, the Guardian Group became intertwined with the collapse of banks and resultant of loans, stock dumping, and practices, pushed several automobile manufacturers into receivership or bankruptcy. In 1932, Chapin relinquished his management position at Guardian Group and accepted an offer from President Hoover to fill the vacated position of secretary of commerce. His almost unanimous approval for the position indicates the level of respect he still commanded despite an ongoing investigation of corruption in Guardian Group.  

With the election of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Chapin returned to Detroit and resumed his managerial position at Hudson, a company on the very brink of collapse. The company’s slide had begun in 1931 as reflected in a loss of almost $2 million and a precipitous 85 percent slide in manufacturing. The red ink continued to flow through 1932 and in 1933. With losses of $4.4 million, suppliers threatening legal action, a bank loan of $8 million overdue, and Commercial Investment Trust hinting it might refuse to further finance Hudson’s new car sales the company was in a precarious position.  

Through Herculean efforts that involved restructuring, extensive international travel to facilitate diverse partnerships, and complicated negotiations with labor as well as banks, Chapin miraculously restored the company to solvency in 1935. This was also the year he resumed his position of spokesman for the auto industry, a position that included representation and lobbying in Washington D.C.

The Chapin story ended abruptly in February of 1936 with the death of an independent thinker of epic proportion. What a man of this vision, of this ambition could have accomplished for Hudson, as well as the nation is left to speculation.  

  Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Continental: Engine maker to the US vehicle industry

Recalling the history of the enterprise that would power a diverse count of car and light trucks.

IF asked to compose a list of the 10 figures most responsible for the development of the American automobile industry, would your list include A.W. Tobin and Ross Judson?

Those men today may be less than an obscure footnote to automotive history. Yet the business they created was the very cornerstone for a staggering number of famous and forgotten manufacturers. It was also a foundational element in the development of the fledgling American aeronautical industry.

The story begins in 1901 when Judson, a gifted engineering student, had an opportunity to dismantle and examine a Mercedes L-head four-cylinder engine and noticed numerous flaws. The mechanical odyssey filled him with unshakeable conviction that he could resolve these issues and vastly improve that engine.

In 1902, almost immediately after graduation from the Armour Institute of Technology, Judson drafted a sales pitch that he presented to Tobin, his brother-in-law, an up-and-coming financier. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Judson soon had a partner in Tobin, a $US2000 investment of capital from this partner, a rented hayloft converted to a machine shop in Chicago, and a company incorporated as Autocar.

Judson’s first engine showcased by an eye-catching display debuted at the1903 Chicago Automobile Show. Judson and Tobin were possessed of unbridled confidence and had high expectations from this endeavor, but the inundation of orders must have left them stunned.

To fill these initial orders, the company hired 25 men and launched full-scale production along with expansion of the facilities. By 1904, Judson and Tobin found themselves in the enviable position of needing to find a location suitable for dramatic and immediate expansion.

Incentives provided by the city of Muskegon, Michigan, resulted in the relocation of Autocar operations and the construction of a state-of-the-art, 16,000-square-foot factory in 1905.

The following year, the company experienced equally dramatic changes and was already planning expansion as a result. As an example, Studebaker, just one of several customers, increased its order from 100 engines to 1000 in just six months. Production of stationary engines commenced and the number of employees increased from 25 to almost 600.

Then the fledgling company hit a major obstacle in the form of a lawsuit. Autocar, a manufacturer in Ardmore, Pennsylvania, had used the name since 1899 and was threatening to sue if the name of the Muskegon based company was not dropped. As a result, Tobin and Judson reorganised their company under the Continental name.

As an example of the men’s willingness to adapt to changing markets, in 1908 the company developed an aircraft engine production-and-development division. This would become a subsidiary, Continental Aircraft Engine, in 1929, with the 170hp A-70 radial engine as the foundation.

From its inception the company had turned a profit and expanded production each year. Then in 1910, with receipt of an order for 10,000 engines by a new manufacturing concern, Hudson, Continental launched an ambitious expansion programme that included addition to the Muskegon facility and construction of a second factory in Detroit. Two years later, Walter Frederick, a former engineer for the truck manufacturing concern Autocar, assumed Judson’s position as chief engineer.

Under his supervision, the company dramatically expanded the engineering department and launched the development of a line of engines specifically for catalog sales to automobile manufacturers, companies in need of stationary industrial engines, aircraft firms, and tractor manufacturers. And if a client requested engine specifications not listed in the catalog, staff engineers modified existing models accordingly.

The next 20 years were golden for Continental. Automobiles manufactured by Apperson and Case, Crawford and Jordan, Ace and Vellie, Durant and Erskine, and more than two dozen other companies ran on Continental engines. Companies that manufactured trucks exclusively including Corbitt, Federal, Schacht, Selden, Sterling, and Reo used gasoline and diesel engines designed by Continental for industrial applications.

The 1920s was another pivotal period for the company. W.R. Angell, a member of the company’s board of directors, finalized an agreement with William Durant, the founder of General Motors and Chevrolet, to supply engines for his new lines of automobiles – Durant, Star, Flint and Ruby trucks for export.

The success of the company led to numerous purchase inquiries, and merger overtures. The most promising and thought-provoking merger negotiation was between Continental and three automobile manufacturers that utilized that company’s products – Peerless, Moon, and Jordan. In the midst of discussion Jordan was placed in receivership, Moon sales plummeted and Peerless suffered a series of dramatic setbacks. As a result, any plans for merger were abandoned.

The new decade and the dawning of the Great Depression began at Continental with Judson’s retirement and the rise of Angell to the presidency of the company. His expansion of the diesel truck, aircraft, stationary, and agricultural engine divisions of the company kept it afloat and even relatively profitable during the early days of the economic calamity.

However, his decision to initiate the launch of a Continental-manufactured automobile and the acquisition of a truck manufacturer nearly sank the company. The short-lived Continental Beacon, Flyer, and Ace were little more than new emblems placed on the equally unsuccessful De Vaux. The acquisition of Divco, a manufacturer of delivery and step vans, in 1932 proved another unwise, costly venture.

Norman De Vaux, a close friend of William Durant, had had several successes in the auto industry. He was instrumental in establishment of the California dealership network for Chevrolet and had worked with Colonel Elbert J. Hall in the establishment of Hall Scott Motor Company to produce aircraft, tractor, and bus engines. The De Vaux automobile endeavor was their second partnership.   

Resultant of the worsening economic climate, poor sales, quality control issues and other problems, the De Vaux introduced in early 1931 was on the cusp of receivership by midsummer. To further complicate issues the company had an arrangement with Hayes Body Corporation to produce De Vaux bodies. And so, when the company was acquired by Continental, it was deeply in debt. Divco was not in much better shape. And so Continental was pushed to the brink of insolvency resultant of the acquisition. But the company survived.

The richly diverse legacy of independent thinking Ross Judson did not end with the Great Depression or the heady days of the post-war era. Continental engines powered the grandfather of the Jeep, the Bantam Reconnaissance and Command Car prototype, as well as the iconic Checker taxi through early 1964. Nor did it end with the cessation of engine manufacturing as Continental lived on into the late 20th century as Ryan Aeronautical and Teledyne Continental Motors.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Remembering the Ruxton

The story of America’s first front-wheel-drive car is a turbulent tale.

THE Ruxton could have changed the direction of America’s automobile industry. It could have been the saving grace for Moon. It might have transformed the Hupp Motor Car Corporation and enabled the company to survive the Great Depression. It had the potential to give Kissel a marketing boost.

But there were two major obstacles that proved insurmountable. One was the dramatic economic downturn that kicked off with the stock market crash in October of 1929. The second was Archie Andrews, a swashbuckling financier and promotor not constrained by ethics.

The Ruxton story starts with William Muller who was working as an experimental engineer at the Edward G. Budd Manufacturing Company in the mid-1920s. The company was a major producer of auto bodies for numerous manufacturers that was looking for opportunities to diversify operations.

This worked well for Muller who had an idea for a revolutionary front wheel drive vehicle. After presenting his ideas to the board of directors, he was given the green light to develop a prototype. Upon completion, plans for the car that had been dubbed Ruxton by Andrews, with Budd body, would be sold to an established manufacturer under limited license for production and distribution.   

Archie Andrews was a member of the board of directors for several companies including Budd and Hupp Motor Car Corporation. The Ruxton project piqued his interest. So, he deftly used his position on the boards in the hope of having Hupp manufacture the car. When that initiative failed, he established New Era Motors in April 1929 with plans to produce the car himself.  

But Andrews was unscrupulous. Indicative of this was use of the Ruxton name. When Andrews had first gained control of the project at Budd, he had been involved in back door negotiations with William Ruxton, a financier that was a member of the New York Stock Exchange. Ruxton chose not to invest in New Era Motors, but the Ruxton name on the car enabled Andrews to attract investors. It took William Ruxton several years of legal wrangling and lawsuits against Andrews to prove that he was not involved with the company and had not given permission for use of his name. By then the Ruxton was an historic footnote.

New Era Motors had a prestigious address in New York City. It had eager investors and it had excited stockholders. It had a colorful prospectus. It had a stylish front wheel drive prototype with Budd body. It had exclusive production rights secured from Budd. But it was all a façade, an automobile manufacturing company without a factory, engineers, a dealer network, or plans for distribution.   

With the colorful low-slung front wheel drive car powered by a 100-horsepower eight-cylinder engine produced by Continental as his business card Andrews aggressively sought partnership with a company to produce the Ruxton. Negotiations with Peerless, Gardner and Marmon were fruitless. Next, he prepared a sales pitch for St. Louis based Moon, a company that had been established in 1905 and that was on the cusp of receivership resultant of declining sales, quality control issues, and a growing reputation for unreliability.    

In November 1929, a press release announcing that Moon would be producing the exciting new Ruxton was published in trade journals as well as St. Louis newspapers. The board of directors at Moon staked it all on the project that had two components. The Ruxton and production of the Moon bodies by Budd as a cost saving measure, an arrangement negotiated by Andrews. What they had not counted on was Andrews ruthless back room deals.

As part of the arrangement, Andrews would provide designs and limited patent rights for the Ruxton in exchange for a sizable, preferred stock interest in Moon. Unknown to the directors he had also acquired blocks of stock through purchase by a proxy before closing the deal. These were sold at a profit with announcement that Moon would be manufacturing the new car. Then came his boldest move which was an attempt to remove the board of directors with plans to assume complete control of the company. His plans also called for restructuring the company and using it as collateral to fund acquisition of several small independent automobile manufacturers that were on the cusp of bankruptcy.  

C.W. Burst and the Moon board of directors filed for an injunction hoping to stave off Andrews company take over. When the stay was overturned, they filed an appeal and literally barricaded themselves in the boardroom while awaiting a decision. Andrews and Muller that had been lured from Budd with the promise that he would be appointed president at Moon, and several hired thugs broke down the door and served court papers giving him control of the company.

As suits and countersuits circulated in the courts, and precious cash reserves were expended on legal fees, the Ruxton and the Windsor, a rebadged Moon, entered production in June 1930. The Ruxton was also being produced in the Hartford, Wisconsin factories of Kissel, a company that Andrews had manipulated into producing the car as well as transmissions and final drive assemblies.

When Andrews attempted a take over of Kissel in a manner like that used to gain control of Moon, the Kissel brothers shuttered their company and filed for bankruptcy. As Moon’s cash reserves had been depleted, parts suppliers were demanding payment, and the Ruxton project was brought to a standstill without the Kissel produced components, Andrews was forced to suspend all production on November 10, 1930. A filing for receivership was submitted on the 15th.

Kissel, a company that had began operations in 1907 as Kissel Kar, reorganized as Kissel Industries and manufactured automotive components into the 1940s. Andrews had so financially entangled Moon with other companies, resolution of the bankruptcy, and subsequent claims and lawsuits were not completed until 1965!

Incredibly this was not the end of Andrews automotive endeavors. He maneuvered his position on the board of directors at Hupp and was elected chairman. Angry Hupp stockholders that had lost money on Moon and New Era Motors filed a string of lawsuits when Andrews attempted to gain full control of the company and use assets to take over Gardner, Stutz and Peerless.

Andrews was forced from Hupp, and private assets were seized. For the next few years Andrews was engaged in constant legal battles. They only ended in 1938 because Andrews died of heart failure at age 59.

Only about 500 Ruxton automobiles were manufactured but some were not sold until 1932. Of these about twenty-five had been produced at the Kissel factory. This included two custom phaetons produced for the Kissel brothers. Four other special bodied show cars were produced in the Moon factory. The production models were roadsters and sedans.

For all his shortcomings, Andrews was a promoter and showman extraordinaire. Ruxton automobiles were finished in outlandish tricolor or two tone finishes with color combinations such as lavender, black, and grey. They sat ten inches lower than most production cars manufactured at the time, and there were no running boards. The narrow Woodlite headlights gave the car a distinct appearance. The Ruxton would not be mistaken for anything else on the road.

Surprisingly, the cars were well engineered. Owners expressed overall satisfaction with the Ruxton. And unlike the first generation of the contemporary front wheel drive Cord, the Ruxton did not have shifting or transmission issues. And those that have survived into the modern era are treasured by collectors.  

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Spark of genius

Albert Champion did not invent the spark plug, but his name lives on today with this vital component.

EARLIEST references to sparking plugs date to 1839 and newspaper articles about Edmond Berger who had created and was experimenting with such a device.

What it was to be used for and how it was powered are a mystery.

Another reference was made in 1859. Jean Joseph Etienne Lenoir, a Belgian-born French inventor built a single cylinder engine that used an electric spark to fire a mixture of kerosene and air. Detailed information about the endeavour is lacking.

Sir Oliver Lodge, a British scientist, developed an electric sparking plug in the mid-1880s and had the first financial success with the technology. A decade later his sons established the Lodge Sparking Plug Company. And in about 1900 the eccentric inventor Nikola Tesla developed an electric igniter for use in petrol engines.

But it was Albert Champion who is best known for perfecting the device, and in the process played a pivotal role in the development of the auto industry.

 Born in 1878 in Paris, France, Champion’s first employment was as a courier for a bicycle manufacturing facility. Seeing a promotional opportunity in his speed, the factory sponsored his entry in several competitions. Champion became a champion and soon, an award-winning competitive cyclist he came to the United States.

The bicycle craze of the 1890s overlapped with the development of a practical horseless carriage, and many a bicyclist, including Champion, Barney Oldfield, and Louis Chevrolet were enamored with the new transportation option and the quest for speed. And so Champion added auto racing to his resume but in 1903 he was seriously injured in the crash of the Packard Grey Wolf during an event at the track in Brighton Beach in Brooklyn, New York. He sustained a compound fracture that left one of his legs two inches shorter than the other and ended his career as a bicycle racer.

Champion made the best of the incident and while recovering in France initiated the study of mechanics and automotive engineering. As his studies progressed, he sharpened his focus and was soon working exclusively with electrical components including magnetos and seeking ways to improve them.

In 1905 he secured financing from investors, returned to the United States, and opened a small factory in Boston, Massachusetts, to manufacture a spark plug of his design and distribute imported magnetos. What made his spark plugs unique was the use of insulators made from a special clay imported from France and kiln firing. His protection of the center electrode from grounding, from engine heat, and from moisture with ceramics was an industry first.

The spark plugs soon became a favorite of auto owners and sales soared. To meet the exponentially growing demand, he established a second Champion Ignition Company factory in Toledo, Ohio.

Champion’s success was meteoritic. Shortly after establishment of General Motors in 1908, that company’s founder, William C. Durant, met with Champion and negotiated an agreement that led to Champion Ignition Company relocating to Flint, Michigan. With Durant as an investor, the company was reorganized as AC Spark Plug. As part of the arrangement, Champion was contracted as the sole provider of spark plugs and ignition components for Buick. The following year the contract was rewritten to have Champion supply these items for the entire GM line.

In late 1909, Durant initiated an ambitious plan to acquire all parts suppliers and fold them into the General Motors conglomerate. This included AC Spark Plug. Then in 1916 when Alfred P. Sloan launched an ambitious restructuring of the company, AC Spark Plugs was again reorganized as the AC Division, an independent division of GM just as was Chevrolet, Buick, Oakland, and Oldsmobile.

Sloan also expanded the scope of manufacturing at the AC Division. In addition to spark plugs and ignition components, the company began producing speedometers, ignition coils, magnetos, and automotive light bulbs.

Through all these iterations, Albert Champion had deftly ensured he was retained as the president. From that position Champion negotiated acquisition of Sphinx Sparking Plug Company, the largest spark plug manufacturer in England and the British Empire, and Oleo Company, another spark plug manufacturer in France. He also positioned the company to supply ignition components to leading aircraft manufacturers. When Charles A. Lindbergh used AC spark plugs during his historic solo flight across the Atlantic in May 1927, and as per arrangement, praised their reliability in company promotion, sales soared.

Five months later, Champion and his wife sailed to Europe on their annual vacation. It was to be a business and pleasure trip as Champion was to inspect the new AC factory opened by General Motors in Paris, France. However, the day after his arrival, during dinner with his wife, friends, and business associates at a Paris hotel, Champion collapsed and died almost instantly. An autopsy revealed the cause of death as a pulmonary embolism.

The Champion story didn’t end with his death. In 1916, Remy Electric was merged with Dayton Engineering Laboratories Company of Dayton, Ohio, to form Delco-Remy Corporation, another division of General Motors. Manufacturing at AC Division was later expanded to include Rochester carburetors. In 1971, Delco-Remy was reorganized as the United Delco Division.

Three years later GM streamlined the manufacture and distribution of parts operations and the two divisions were merged into ACDelco. Then in 1986, GM established Service Parts Operations as the umbrella for several divisions including ACDelco. Champion itself became a division of Federal-Mogul Corporation.

Champion never acquired the dubious immortality that is having a name transformed into a brand. Still, his work is at the foundation of empires that were built by Dodge, Ford, Chrysler, and Chevrolet.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Charles Kettering - an extraordinary American inventor

This engineer, businessman, and the holder of 186 patents was the electric starter, fast-drying car paint, the world’s first cruise missile and an engine that became known as the copper-cooled calamity … plus so much more.

HIS contributions to the development of automotive technology, to education and even to medicine transformed the world.

He eliminated the need for a hand crank to start a car. He almost sank Chevrolet. He was a commonsense philosopher that espoused the benefits and value of failure - “99 percent of success is built on failure.” His was a life well lived.

Charles Franklin Kettering was born on August 29, 1876, in Loudonville, Ohio. Plagued with poor eyesight, he was a voracious reader even though this often led to blinding headaches.  

Surprisingly, even though he was well read he was only a mediocre student. Still, after graduation he accepted a teaching position at Bunker Hill School. He challenged and engaged students, encouraged them to evening scientific lectures on electricity, heat, magnetism, and gravity, and was immensely popular.

His quest for learning led him to resign from teaching and register for classes at the College of Wooster, and then Ohio State University. Resultant of his eye problems that led to almost crippling migraine headaches, he abandoned higher learning and took a job as foreman of a telephone line crew. He was a quick learner and enjoyed experimenting on his own time.

Fascinated by electricity, he again registered for classes at Ohio State University after an optometrist was able to rectify some of his vision problems. He graduated in 1904 with an electrical engineering degree and was hired directly out of school to head the research laboratory at National Cash Register.

In this position he developed a revolutionary credit approval system that would later be adapted by Diners Club, one of the first credit card companies, in 1950. In 1906 he developed a small electric motor and created the first electric cash register. During his five years of employment at NCR, from 1904 to 1909, he secured 23 patents for the company.  He attributed his success to a good amount of luck but often quipped, “I notice that the harder I work, the luckier I get.”

In 1907, his NCR colleague Edward A. Deeds, Kettering, and other NCR engineers, including Harold E. Talbott, established the “Barn Gang.” Together they would work nights and weekends in Deeds's barn to develop products or ideas to enhance everyday products. In 1909, Charles F. Kettering and Edward Deeds left NCR and established a company of their own, the Dayton Engineering Laboratories Company, known today as Delco, in Dayton, Ohio. Despite developing an array of products and acquiring patents, the company was only moderately successful. It was a tragic accident that propelled Kettering and Delco to success.

Many injuries and even deaths had occurred resultant of the hand crank used to start automobiles. Byron Carter, a prolific inventor from Jackson, Michigan that had developed bicycles and various automotive technologies, as well as the friction drive Cartercar, stopped to assist a motorist on Belle Isle near Detroit. While cranking the vehicle he was severely injured and died several days later. Henry M. Leland, an automotive engineer that had been involved with Cadillac from its inception, a friend of Carter’s, became determined to develop an electric self-starting device for automobiles. When he and his team of engineers failed, they turned to Kettering and Delco. An operational model was delivered to Leland in February 1911.

It exceeded all expectations. In addition to the electric starter the system included key operated ignition spark and as a source of current for the lighting. Leland ordered 12,000 units and the 1912 Cadillac became the first production vehicle with a modern starting and electrical system.

In 1914, Kettering became a founding partner in a company that manufactured motorcycle sidecars. The same year he launched a company to mass produce generating systems for rural farm lighting applications. This included experimentation with the use of solar power as a source of electrical generation. He also was a founding partner in the Dayton-Wright Airplane Company.

The following year he accepted a contract from the United States Army to design an unmanned "flying bomb" which could hit a target at a range 64 kilometres.  Formally called the Kettering Aerial Torpedo it was jokingly called the Kettering Bug. It was built by the Dayton-Wright Airplane Company with Orville Wright acting as an aeronautical consultant and Elmer Ambrose Sperry as assistant engineer for the design of the control and guidance system.

The innovate aircraft was powered by a two-stroke V4 40-horsepower DePalma engine mass-produced by the Ford Motor Company at a cost of $40 each. The fuselage was constructed of wood laminates and papier-mâché, and the wings were made of cardboard. The cost per unit was $400.

It was launched using a dolly-and-track system like the method used by the Wright Brothers when they made their first powered flights in 1903. It could fly at a speed of 80kmh. A small onboard gyroscope was used to guide the aircraft to its destination. The control system also used a pneumatic/vacuum system, an electric system, and an aneroid barometer/altimeter. An intricate mechanical system was devised that would track the aircraft's distance flown. Before takeoff, technicians determined the distance to be traveled relative to the air, considering wind speed and direction along the flight path, and then calculated the total number of engine revolutions needed for the Bug to reach its destination. When a total revolution counter reached this value, a cam dropped down which shut off the engine and retracted the bolts attaching the wings, which fell off. This began the ballistic trajectory into the target which ended with an impact detonation of the 82 kg payload.

In 1916 Kettering negotiated the sale of Delco to United Motors Corporation, an automotive parts and accessories company that was acquired by General Motors in 1918. Then in 1919 he accepted a position as head of the new General Motors Research Corporation in Dayton, Ohio. He would continue working for this GM division for 27 years during which he acquired 186 patents.

Kettering was also the man behind Duco, the paint that revolutionised automobile painting. Prior to Duco many automobile manufacturers hand painted cars. Still regardless of system used the drying process required days. Duco developed with Du Pont cut that time to hours.

Not all his projects were successful. “It doesn’t matter if you try and try and try again and fail. It does matter if you try and fail and fail to try again.”

In 1919 his first assignment for General Motors was to develop two air cooled engines: a four cylinder for Chevrolet and a six cylinder for Oakland that could also be used in Oldsmobile. The Oakland/Oldsmobile project was shelved, but the Chevy air cooled engine made it into production. It was an abject failure as the car tended to overheat when operating in conditions of high heat and humidity. It burned valves and bearings, and lost compression when hot.

Only 759 of these cars were built. Except for two cars, all were recalled from dealers or bought back from buyers. It was the first automotive recall in history, and it almost caused the demise of the Chevy division. 

Chevy sales had been strong since 1916 but there was no growth. An attempt to introduce a V8 engine as a Model D in 1917 proved a costly failure. During the post WWI economic recession, the Chevy division hemorrhaged cash. The air-cooled engine project exacerbated a critical situation. Only the last-minute intervention of Alfred P. Sloan prevented the Chevrolet division from being culled.

As an interesting side note, trying to resolve the problematic detonation issue of the air-cooled engine led Kettering to begin experiments with fuel. In 1921, working with General Motors engineer Thomas Midgley Jr., Kettering created a new additive which worked to reduce the “knocking” in car engines. That additive was tetraethyl lead. And that resulted in the development of leaded gasoline.

Another dubious invention that at the time was heralded as a world changing discovery was Freon gas for use as a refrigerant. Kettering also played a key role in the development of automotive safety glass, a lightweight diesel engine for application in trucks, an electric auto theft prevention system, and diesel-electrical dynamo engines for locomotives. But Kettering’s interests were not limited to cars, trucks, airplanes, and trains.

His launched research into magnetism and its use in medical imaging devices and designed an incubator for premature infants that he patented. He created a formula for synthetic aviation fuel and pioneered the mechanism for retractable aircraft landing gear. He perfected the spark plug and devised a process for extraction of bromine from sea water. He is credited with the creation of the first practical two-filament headlamp. And he established the Charles F. Kettering Foundation for medical research, partnered with Alfred Sloan to establish the Sloan-Kettering Institute for Cancer Research, and funded establishment of the Charles F. Kettering Memorial Hospital, as well as Kettering University.

Charles Kettering is an example of a life well lived. He is an inspiration. And in the modern era, he is largely a forgotten pioneer.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Roland Conklin’s amazing land yacht

When one of the wealthiest men in America decided to take his family on a road trip he did so in grand style – with a cook, maid, driver and mechanic.

FROM the perspective of transportation, World War One was an odd blending of the past and the future.

Armies used horse cavalry as well as tanks and airplanes. Draft horses pulled artillery pieces; four-wheel-drive trucks hauled supplies.  Motorised ambulances shard the roads with pack trains of mules.

With the cessation of hostilities, recognising the need to modernise, the United States Army launched a series of initiatives with the extensive use of motorcycles, trucks, and staff cars.

One manifestation of this was a coast-to-coast convoy in the summer of 1919, testing the military’s mobility in wartime conditions. The United States’ army’s expedition consisted of 81 motorised vehicles and 302 men. They went from Washington, DC to San Francisco, a venture covering 3251 miles (5231km). One of the participants of that 62 day venture was a young Lieutenant Colonel named Dwight D. Eisenhower; a future president of the United States and the man credited with launching the interstate highway system.

The venture highlighted the poor and even antiquated condition of America’s rural roads even though there had been tremendous expenditure to modernise them. Wooden bridges had to be reinforced to support the heavy trucks. Covered bridges had the tops removed to accommodate the loaded trucks. There was deep sand, muddy quagmires. Soldiers collapsed from exhaustion after driving and pushing their vehicles for 20 miles. Tires were shredded and radiators punctured. It was a grueling endeavour.

Four years prior, before the roads had been improved, Roland R. Conklin of the Chicago Motor Bus Company, Roland Gas-Electric Vehicle Corporation, New York Motor Bus Company and Hexter Truck commissioned the construction of a luxurious land yacht that he dubbed the Gypsy Van. Then he set out on a transcontinental family outing with a cook, maid, chauffer, and mechanic.

As Conklin was one of the wealthiest men in America, the venture was newsworthy. But it was the Gypsy Van, a summer cottage on wheels of epic proportions that was the showstopper. It and the arduous journey over poor roads was described in detail in newspapers, trade journals and publications that targeted the automobilist.  

From the New York Times, August 21, 1915: “The first impressive thing about the vehicle, which Mr. Conklin calls his ‘land yacht,’ is its size. Overall, it is twenty-five feet in length, six inches longer than the Fifth Avenue buses.

“It is seven and a half feet wide and thirteen feet high. It weights between seven and eight tons without gear, filled water or fuel tanks, passengers and supplies. The size of the great automobile ceases to dominate one’s thoughts when one investigates the comprehensiveness of its equipment. It is really a house on wheels, though it runs smoothly at moderate speed.”

“As speed was not a special object, a comparatively small motor of 60 horsepower could be used, especially geared for power grades. Canvas strips for sandy sections, a knockdown, portable bridge to ford streams, and a winch operated by the motor, strong enough to pull the car out of a mudhole or ditch are special items of equipment. No such vehicle has ever been attempted before on this scale, but his experience in designing large vehicles for traffic, as the President of the New York Motor Bus Company, convinced Mr. Conklin that his idea for a double deck bus with roof top garden was practical, so he went ahead.”

 “The transmission is of the selective sliding dog type, with gears always in mesh. It is really a double-gear box, as it gives nine speeds forward and three in reverse. This unusual transmission was necessary because of the special requirements of this vehicle. It must be able to travel faster on good roads than the ordinary motor truck of similar weight and must also be able to negotiate far steeper grades and deep sand. The gear ratio on the lowest forward speed is 86 2/3 to 1, as compared with 26 to 1 on a Fifth avenue motor bus. The gear ratio of the highest speed is 8 2/3 to 1. Final drive is through worm gears. Solid tires 5x36 inches, dual on the rear, are fitted to steel wheels.”

It had a generator with electric lights and a vacuum cleaner, and storage for the motorcycle to be used in the case the chauffer had to go for assistance. There were freshwater tanks and a shower bath, folding bunks, a hideaway card table, a kitchen with electric cooking range, and bookcases, built in lockers for food, clothes, guns, fishing gear, and tools. There was even an ice box that hold 100 pounds of ice, and a fold out canvas awing.   

“As you approach the car from the back you see a wooden door, but no steps, unless you happen to recognize the folding steps of a pattern similar to that used on some of the New York surface cars. When you turn the doorknob and open the door these steps unfold easily. When you have mounted and opened the screen door you find yourself in the rear compartment, which probably combines more different functions with less waste of space than any yacht or launch cabin in existence.”

“In one side of this a folding metal wash bowl not unlike those in the washroom of a railroad parlor car. A little pull brings this basin down into its position for use. It is fed from the large water tanks on the roof. Above this basin is a water filter for drinking water, one coil of which passes through the icebox, so that chilled water of filtered quality is constantly on tap. Next to the icebox toward the front of the car is a neat porcelain kitchen sink, and near it is an electric range with several burners and a large oven. A miniature dresser with spices, sugar, flour, and the like are on the wall, and other cunningly contrived cupboards and racks hold pots and pans and a plentiful supply of cutlery.”

As luxurious and well prepared for rugged uses as the Gypsy Van was, the road conditions ensured that the odyssey was fraught with challenges. 

“Mr. Conklin and his party will take the Post Road to Albany. The route will then be through Buffalo, Chicago, Denver, Yellowstone Park, Glacier National Park, San Francisco, San Diego, and Los Angeles. The party will return to New York by steamer through the Panama Canal, leaving the van to be shipped East.”

New York Times, August 23, 1915:“The land-going yacht in which R.R. Conklin, of the Motorbus Company of New York, and a party of twelve are going from Rosemary Farm, near Huntington, L.I., to the Panama-Pacific Exposition, came near foundering on her second day out, and was obliged yesterday to send a save-our-yacht call at 4:32 P.M. to the nearest port, Briar Cliff.

“The automobile, with its kitchen, hot and cold water, beds, tables, and even a roof garden, was stuck fast in the slippery mud which lined its channel, the State road just north of Briar Cliff. Puffing contentedly, the big double-decked cross between a Fifth Avenue bus and a prairie schooner left Long Island on Saturday and proceeded on the first leg of its 5000-mile transcontinental voyage. At the last moment, a change was made in the plans, and the automobile ship steered through Briar Cliff instead of going through White Plains, as was first intended. A bridge only ten feet wide was the cause, the yacht needing but twelve as a minimum.”

Two months and more than 5000 miles later the trip was completed. A journal from the trip notes an endless array of issues and problems that resulted from road conditions; bridges unable to support the weight, mud, deep sands, washed out roads, steep grades, and fording streams. But it also details an exciting pioneering odyssey.

News stories about the trip and the amazing Gypsy Van inspired the wealthy and the innovative to create their own motorised home on wheels. The Conklin’s adventure and the military convoy, as well as Emily Post’s bestselling book, By Motor to The Golden Gate about her cross-country odyssey also inspired road trips and galvanized the Good Roads associations to action as they worked to craft a national network of modern highways.  

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

‘Cannon Ball’ Baker – a true high-powered hero

He started racing bicycles … and then went into record-setting with motorbikes and cars. Ultimately, his name is remembered through an unofficial, unsanctioned car race that rebels against authority.

MANY big name start-ups in the automotive industry began with bicycles: So it went with Erwin Baker, a man who became known internationally as ‘Cannon Ball Baker.’  

Born March 12, 1882, in a tumbledown log cabin near Lawrenceburg, Indiana, Baker was a sickly youth and an indifferent student. His parents worried over his future and wondered if he might even survive into adulthood. No one could have possibly guessed that Baker would become an internationally-acclaimed celebrity who inspired countless imitators.

His family moved to Indianapolis shortly after Baker turned 12. To supplement his father’s meagre income, before he’d turned 15 birthday Baker went to work toiling in 10 hour shifts at the Indianapolis Drop Forge Company. The hard work transformed the scrawny boy into a sturdy man who craved a hearty lifestyle. In 1905 Baker joined a traveling acrobatic vaudeville act. He entertained audiences by beat punching bags with his feet while standing on his head and using his head as a battering ram to shatter various items.

To earn extra income, and to fuel his passion for the thrill, he began bicycle racing. In 1906 he purchased an Indian motorcycle and begin racing on the board track circuit. The long string of record setting finishes, and his natural talent as a showman, earned notice from Indian and in 1909, Baker was offered a position with the factory Indian motorcycle racing team. His first race as a company representative was at the inaugural event at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on Aug. 14, 1909.

Conditions at the new Speedway were less than ideal. The surface of the track was crushed limestone with a thin coating of oil. It was deemed treacherous by automobile drivers. For motorcyclists accustomed to racing on surfaces of hardpacked beach sands or board tracks it had the potential to be deadly at high speeds. As an added hazard there were sharp rocks bound to destroy tires. Thirty riders entered, four finished. Baker claimed first prize. G.H. Westing Company, the sole distributor of Indian motorcycles in central Indiana, was quick to capitalise on the success with an array of advertisements.

While the rest of the factory team was board track and beach racing to promote the company, Baker was given a free hand to develop publicity events. Resultant stunts included racing passenger trains between towns. Bear in mind, these were days when roads were little more than frontier era trails pocked with mud holes and rocks.

George Hendee, co-founder, and president of Indian, was ecstatic about the publicity. In 1912, Baker was tasked with staging a promotional tour of South America. As export sales of Indian soared, the tour was deemed a success.

For Baker it was a heady adventure, a 14,000-mile cross country tour of South and Central America as well as Jamaica and Cuba. Never one to rest on his laurels, a few months after returning to the United States he became the first man to cross the United States on a motorcycle. Then he set a record for miles covered per day on a motorcycle on a ride from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, to Tijuana, Mexico.

These events sold Indian motorcycles and transformed Baker into a celebrity. In May of 1915 he moved from motorcycles to automobiles when commissioned by Harry C. Stutz, founder of the Indianapolis-based Stutz Motor Company, to drive coast to coast as a promotional stunt for the new Bearcat model.  

Stutz received a tremendous return on investment as Baker arrived in New York City after 11 days, seven hours and 15 minutes, a new record for a solo driver. Newspapers in the city proclaimed him ‘Cannonball’, a reference to a record-setting train. Baker ever the showman quickly recognized the value of the name and copyrighted it as ‘Cannon Ball.’ The following year he bested this record by four days, this time in a Cadillac.

Building on his successes, He began offering his services to other automobile manufacturers with a “no record, no money” guarantee. Nash, Lexington, Willys St. Claire, Franklin, and Graham-Paige were counted among the companies that hired Baker to boost sales through the setting of records and the subsequent garnering of headlines internationally.  

Promoters in Australia chose two cities and challenged Baker to ride between them on an Indian motorcycle. He accepted the challenges and, in each instance, set new records. For Oldsmobile, he drove a sedan coast to coast in America in high gear. In 1924, to promote Gardner automobiles, he made a North American transcontinental run in the dead of winter. To promote Rickenbacker, he started in Vancouver, British Columbia, and ended in Tijuana, Mexico. In 1928 on a run from New York to Chicago, he bested the 20th Century Limited locomotive that was promoted as the “pride of the railroad.” For Buick, he drove a two-ton truck loaded with Atlantic Ocean water to San Francisco in just under six days. Then in 1933 he established a record that stood for 40 years, a 53-hour solo drive across the United States from coast to coast.

When he was not setting records, Baker was racing. At the behest of Henry Ford, a pioneer automobile racer himself, Baker drove a Frontenac at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 1922. Despite an array of mechanical and tire issues that resulted in numerous pit stops, Baker finished the 200 laps in 11th place. Not surprising, in 1948 when NASCAR was established, Baker accepted a position as commissioner.

Though his record setting days were behind him, Baker continued to race and test new cars all through the 1950s’. Then, on May 19, 1960, he collapsed from a heart attack and died at Community Hospital in Indianapolis, Indiana. The monument at Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis that towers over his grave notes that here lays Cannon Ball Baker. In 2017, an Indiana state historical marker commemorating "Cannon Ball" Baker was installed by the Indiana Historical Bureau in front of Baker's home at 902 East Garfield Drive in Indianapolis.

The most enduring homage paid to the legendary record setter was one many have heard about; the Cannonball Run. The initial Cannonball Run (named in a nod to the exploits of Cannon Ball Baker) in 1971 was more a protest of the newly implemented 55 mile per hour national highway speed limit than a race.

Organised by automotive journalist Brock Yates, at the end of the event he thought it might be a good idea to do it again and compete with other drivers, and The Cannonball Run was officially established. The full name of the race was the "Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining Sea Memorial Trophy Dash." Many people referred to it as the "Cannonball Dash," and it has since become most familiar as "The Cannonball Run" due to the movie series about the race.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

The Duesenberg era was short, but made powerful impact

The rich and famous, including many of Hollywood’s most glamorous, bought the cars in all manner of body styles, ranging from brash two-place roadsters to long, elegant limousines.

 THIS company had burst on the scene, streaked toward the heavens, and was nearing a crash all in less than a decade.

One division produced vehicles that had become synonymous with speed, style, and performance. It had even become a part of the American lexicon and a comparative as the word ‘doozy’ was derived from Duesy, the nickname given the mighty Duesenberg.

Born in Lippe, Germany, the Duesenberg brothers Frederick, and August came to America as children in the 1880s. The immigrant family settled in Rockford, Iowa, the heart of farm country, fortuitous for the inquisitive brothers. Fred lacked formal training and was largely self-taught yet by age 17 he was making sizable contributions to the family’s income by repairing farm machinery and building windmills. Soon Augie was lending his skills to the endeavor and learning from his older brother.

When bicycle mania began sweeping the country in the 1890s, the brothers established a repair shop. Then they began customising and racing bicycles, and then they launched the manufacture of a bicycle that they had designed.

As with the automobiles that they would later build, the bicycles creation was rooted in experience gained through racing. By 1900 they were adding gasoline engines and transforming the bicycle into a motorcycle. Financial success from the endeavor proved elusive and in 1903 the Duesenberg brothers bicycle business ended with bankruptcy.

But the brothers landed on their feet. In 1902, Fred relocated to Kenosha, Wisconsin, and went to work as a mechanic for Rambler. Then before the ink was dry on the bankruptcy, they had opened a garage and were specialising in the transformation of cars into performance machines. This brought them to the attention of a wealthy Iowa attorney, Edward Mason, who was obsessed with automobile racing.

It was a questionable and shaky partnership but the blending of Mason’s money, and that of some of his friends, and the Duesenberg’s mechanical prowess resulted in the launching of the Mason Automobile Company in 1906.

It was advertised as "The Fastest and Strongest Two-Cylinder Car in America," a claim built on a series of successful entries in hill-climbing events and races. The zenith for the Mason company came in 1912 when the Duesenberg’s took their first shot at the Indianapolis 500, nearly qualifying a highly modified four-cylinder model.

The following year the brothers left the company, relocated to Minnesota, and established the Duesenberg Motor Company to produce high performance four-cylinder engines like that used in the Indianapolis 500 Mason. Fred’s reputation as a gifted mechanical engineer soared. Augie had proven himself to be a craftsman. And so, their company prospered with the manufacture and sale of their engines for automobiles and boats, all of which the brothers promoted through racing.

With the advent of WWI, they turned their attention to the development of aircraft engines and relocated their company to Elizabeth, New Jersey. One of their projects included a collaboration with Bugatti on the development of a straight-eight engine. And at the end of the war that engine design would serve as the cornerstone for the brothers building a revolutionary straight eight powered car.  

In 1920, the brothers debuted that vehicle with an overhead valve straight-eight engine and the first four-wheel hydraulic brakes on an American car. The body styling was worthy the advanced mechanics of the car but the timing for the launch of a new car company could not have been worse; the post war economic recession was gaining strength.

Magnifying the company’s problems was Fred's obsessive perfectionism that led him to redesign the engine as an overhead cam unit just as advance orders were being taken. As a result production was postponed until 1922. In turn this precipitated a battle with investors in the Duesenberg Automobile and Motors Corporation.

Only 600 Model A Duesenbergs were produced in the next five years. They were expensive, stylish, and race proven. The crowning achievement was a race tuned prototype driven to a first-place finish at the French Grand Prix. The brothers approached business as they did with racing - unbridled optimism, outside of the box creativity, boundless energy, and overextension of resources. It was not uncommon for Fred and Augie to lead a team on a 72-hour working spree to transform an idea into a reality.

Obviously, this was not a formula for a company to financially succeed. Enter E.L. Cord, the young whiz kid that transformed Moon, and then resurrected Auburn from a moribund company to major automobile manufacture. Cord acquired controlling interest in the Duesenberg company and merged it into an Auburn combine. Then in 1929 he added the revolutionary front-wheel drive Cord to the stable. With Cord at the helm Duesenberg was transformed into the ultimate luxury performance brand.

Cord tasked the Duesenberg brothers with but one task, build the fastest and most luxurious car in the world. And so, as money was no object, Fred and Augie applied all of their skill and talents, and harnessed Fred’s perfectionism. The now legendary Model J debuted on December 1, 1928 at the New York Automobile Salon.

The Model J was mechanical perfection personified. With exception of the limited production SJ and SSJ models, and modified racers it would continue in limited production until the collapse of E.L. Cord’s automotive empire in 1937.

Every aspect from styling to mechanics were stunning. Under the hood was a massive 420-c.i.d. (7-litre) straight-eight, twin-cam overhead valve engine. It was a glorious piece of mechanical sculpture. The immense block was painted in the trademark Duesenberg green and adorned with flawlessly machined aluminum camshaft towers, intake manifolds, and external pump housings.

It was outfitted with an array of revolutionary gadgets such as an automatic chassis-lubricating system. Unlike the stately, almost dowdy Model A, the new car was an artistic masterpiece with sensuous lines that accentuated the nearly 20 foot-long car. The prow was a bold, upright radiator. The sales price was as astounding as the car; $US8500. As a comparison a new Ford roadster could be bought for $US385.

They were beautiful automobiles with bodies designed by Gordon Buehrig, or by a factory approved list of custom coachbuilders including Le Baron, Derham, Murphy, Brunn, and J. Gurney Nutting. But it was the Duesenberg’s speed and power that captured the imagination of the world. The company claimed 265 horsepower, enough to propel the four-thousand pound plus beast to speeds of more than 110 miles per hour. In head to head competition it outperformed every luxury automobile built anywhere in the world.

“He drives a Duesenberg” became the simplistic advertising slogan for the Model J, which was openly claimed to be “the world’s finest motor car.” The rich and famous, including many of Hollywood’s most glamorous, bought the cars in all manner of body styles, ranging from brash two-place roadsters to long, elegant limousines. In May 1932 Fred improved on perfection and introduced the Model SJ, a centrifugal supercharged version of the J that was rated at 320 horsepower in production form. It could be ordered in a special 400 horsepower competition version.

Stock sedan bodied models were tested to 104 miles per hour in second gear and almost 140 miles per hour in high gear. Lighter bodied roadsters were clocked with 0-100 miles per hour times of seventeen seconds. In 1935, Ab Jenkins, a famous endurance driver, took an SJ with a lightweight body to the Bonneville Salt Flats and averaged 135.47 miles per hour for twenty-four consecutive hours. During a one-hour sprint he sped across the salt at 152.1 miles per hour, and he was clocked at over 160 miles per hour during a short burst. The Duesenberg SJ reigned supreme as the fastest production car then in existence.

Tragically Fred Duesenberg never lived to see these accolades for his masterpiece. Three months after the SJ was introduced, he crashed one of the cars while descending Ligonier Mountain near Johnstown, Pennsylvania on the Lincoln Highway. He died weeks later of complications from injuries suffered in the wreck. Augie would live until 1955 and would continue working to develop performance automobiles.  

There is one more chapter in the Duesenberg story. It was written in 1935. Gary Cooper, one of Hollywood’s top stars, entered the Duesenberg showroom in Los Angeles and examined a short, 125-inch bare chassis SJ that had been built for display purposes.

Cooper purchased the display and paid to have it shipped back to LaGrande in Indiana, where a lightweight roadster body would be installed. This was the SSJ (for “Short Supercharged J”). A second car was ordered by Clark Gable, also a loyal Duesenberg customer. These were the only SSJs that would ever be fabricated, and they remain perhaps the most glamorous and valuable of the Duesies built.

In desperation to save his company, and to maintain the prestige of the Duesenberg brand, Cord assigned Buehrig to create a “Baby Duesenberg” which could be sold at a price more competitive with the top of the line Packard, Pierce Arrow and Stutz. The car came to market in 1936 as the Cord 810/812, the now classic front wheel drive “coffin-nosed” sedans and roadsters with hidden headlights.

Neither speed, luxury, nor Cord’s business acumen could save Duesenberg or the company. By mid-1937 the Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg empire was placed in court ordered receivership. Aside from the treasured cars that grace automotive collections what remains is a simple phrase, “It’s a doozy” as testimony to the ultimate automobile.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

The glory and tragedy of the Dodge brothers' story

The death of the Dodge brothers marked the end of an era and sent shock waves through the American auto industry.

THE implications of the Spanish Flu pandemic that began its relentless march around the world in 1918, much like COVID 19 today, were far reaching.

While at the National Automobile Show in New York City in January 1920, both John and Horace Dodge became sick. There is still some debate over their illness but at the time the consensus was that they had been infected with the last wave of the devastating Spanish flu pandemic that killed more than 50 million worldwide.

As with many victims of COVID 19, on January 14, mere days after becoming ill, John was afflicted with pneumonia and died in his hotel room at the age of 55. Even though he suffered from cirrhosis of the liver, the official cause of death, Horace recovered from influenza and pneumonia but was nearly bedridden for most of a year in Florida before dying on December 10 at the age of 52.

The death of the Dodge brothers marked the end of an era and sent shock waves through the American auto industry. It also brought an end to plans to revolutionize the industry from manufacturing to sales and marketing.

The brothers epitomized the American dream of rising from humble beginnings to vast wealth. They were rough and tumble, hard drinking blue-collar men from Niles, Michigan.

John Francis was born in 1864, Horace Elgin in 1868. Their grandfathers, father and uncles were machinists. Both were mechanically inclined. John was somewhat reserved; Horace developed a reputation for a hair trigger temper.  Together the redheaded Dodge boys were an inseparable team.

The brothers never were able to move beyond their brusque blue-collar ways even with the acquisition of tremendous wealth. In 1910, the Detroit Times enhanced their reputation as brawlers with an article that detailed a wild bar room fight. John Dodge responded by first publicly apologizing to the bar owner and then paid for damages. He then threatened to kill the paper’s owner. Horace once beat a man unconscious in the street after he made fun of him for being unable to crank his Ford. The brothers were known throughout the Detroit area, as well as in Chicago and New York City, for hard drinking exploits while wearing identically tailored suits and speedboat racing.

Even though they were counted among the wealthiest men in America, they were excluded from Detroit high society. So, when the Grosse Pointe Country Club wouldn’t admit him, Horace built an enormous mansion on the adjacent property, with a 12-car garage and testing facility that faced the country club. They also funded the Detroit Symphony and led the effort to build their Symphony Hall.

The brothers began making their mark in Detroit almost as soon as John moved to the city in 1886. The following spring Horace joined him. The brothers were bright, ambitious, and hardworking, and soon John was earning $16.50 a week as a foreman and Horace $13.50 as a machinist in a boiler manufacturing company.

In 1892 they began working for an equipment manufacturer in Windsor on the Canadian side of the Detroit River. They also developed a ball bearing bicycle, the Evans and Dodge Bicycle, in the hope of profitably tapping into the tsunami of interest in the two wheeled transportation phenomena. In 1900 they established their own machine shop in Detroit. They placed an advertisement in the city directory that mirrored their confidence and ambition, “we are prepared to do any class of work that can be done in a first-class modern shop."

They soon established a reputation for quality work and within one year had secured a contract from Ransom E. Olds to supply engines for his fledgling Olds Motor Works. The brothers began supplying transmissions for the company six months later. In February 1903, the second major contract was secured. This time the customer was Henry Ford who retained their services to manufacture the running gear for his forthcoming Model A.

As this was Ford’s third attempt to launch an automotive company, and as he had a reputation of being pursued by creditors, the Dodge brothers entered the agreement with concerns that were made manifest a few months later. In June 1903, with Ford owing the brothers more than $7,000, they negotiated an arrangement that would change their lives and the course of the auto industry. They agreed to write off overdue payments and extend Ford an additional $3,000 in credit, due in six months, in exchange for ten percent of Ford Motor Company stock.

For a decade, the Dodge Brothers worked almost exclusively for Ford, and John Dodge accepted a position as vice president of the company. By 1910 their production facilities had become a bottleneck and so they opened a massive, state of the art factory complex in Hamtramck, an enclave surrounded by Detroit.

By 1913, the Dodge brothers had 2,500 full time employees and were the largest supplier of automotive parts and components in the United States. It had been a meteoric rise and the brothers were wealthier than could have been imagined when they moved to Detroit. But as John Dodge once quipped, “I'm tired of being carried around in Henry Ford's vest pocket.”

And so, the brothers initiated an ambitious 18 month plan that included suspension of their agreement with Ford, additional factory expansion, designing an automobile, and purchasing the machine tools needed for manufacture. Dodge Brothers Motor Car Company, one of one hundred and twenty automobile manufacturers launched that year, was established on July 1, 1914. The initial announcement was made in the Saturday Evening Post in August. This was followed by simple advertising and promotion designed to pique interest. "Dodge Brothers."

Then, “Dodge Brothers, Reliable, Dependable, Sound." were added. There were no illustrations or details. This was followed by carefully selected interviews and press release distribution. "The Dodge Brothers are the two-best mechanics in Michigan … When the Dodge Brothers car comes out, there is no question that it will be the best thing on the market for the money," wrote the Michigan Manufacturer and Financial Record in August.

In November, the first Dodge dealership opened in Detroit, and at the debut display of the new Dodge more than 6000 people came to see it in just one day. The five-passenger open touring car was an instant success. It had a 35-horsepower four-cylinder engine with a sales price of $785. A new Ford Model T sold for just $490 but it was rated at only 20 horsepower. And unlike the Ford, the Dodge had as standard equipment an electric starter and lights, a 12-volt electrical system, and a speedometer. The cars were also the first to use an all-steel body. Dodge Brothers manufactured everything for their new cars but the bodies, tires, glass, lights, and batteries.

The Dodge brothers had entered an extremely competitive market. An industry study determined that cars selling for $676-875 accounted for 15.5 percent of the market in 1915 and 19.8 percent in 1916.

There were 15 manufacturers competing in that narrow price range. The Dodge brothers were undaunted. They exported to nearly 50 countries and targeted a multifaceted commercial market that included aircraft companies, communication companies, ship lines, and taxi franchises.

The company was launched with 5000 employees but grew to more than 7000 within a few months. By mid-1919 there were 17,000 men and women working for Dodge Brothers in Hamtramck. Besides Ford they were also the only manufacture to hire African American workers. Other innovations included the first dedicated test track built on the factory grounds.

Like Ford, Dodge Brothers did not make annual model updates. Instead the focus was on mechanical improvements. They also added a wider range of models and commercial vehicles. It proved a recipe for success. Sales soared from just over $US11 million for the year ending June 30, 1915 to $US161 million for 1920. In that same time production had gone from 370 vehicles in 1914 to more than 145,000 in 1920.

In less than 20 years, John and Horace Dodge had built an empire. Then in 1919 their fortunes were magnified exponentially when Henry Ford bought their Ford Motor Company shares for $25 million in cash. This and the dividends cashed over the years gave the brothers a mind-boggling $32 million return on their initial investment of $10,000 in 1903. 

One can’t help but wonder what might have been. With the death of John and Horace Dodge, their widows inherited the company. But management foundered without the brothers and in 1925 financial advisors recommended that the Dodge Brothers’ widows sell their interests in the company. Three years later, Walter P. Chrysler purchased Dodge for $170 million in cash and stock options.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica

From bicycles to automotive marvels

Alexander Winton successfully convinced the American public that automobiles were more than a passing fad.

BORN in 1860 in Grangemouth, Scotland, Alexander Winton immigrated to New York City at the age of 19.

He worked as an engineer apprentice on an ocean steamship for several years before accepting a position as superintendent at an iron factory in Cleveland, Ohio; a city was at the heart of what would soon become a tsunami of national interest in bicycles.

To capitalise on the rapidly expanding market he founded the Winton Bicycle Company in 1891 with his brother-in-law as a partner.

As bicycles became a national mania, and Winton and his partner had a head for business, the company profited almost as soon as the doors were opened. But as with many successful businessmen of the era, Winton found himself increasingly drawn to self-propelled vehicles. Winton filled every available minute with study and the reading of everything he could find on the subject and began developing his own engine designs.  Soon his company was producing bicycles as well as motorised bicycles.

Then in 1896, Winton unveiled his first “motor wagon” to the press. The following year he incorporated the Winton Motor Carriage Company. He introduced the cars with great fanfare and a drive through town to the Glenville Track where he was clocked at a then astounding 33 miles per hour. By 1898 he was selling cars and perfecting as well as promoting them through racing.

As a bit of historic trivia, one of Winton’s most notable racing losses came against Henry Ford. Ford’s success put him in the automotive spotlight and eased his ability to find needed investors for the establishment of the Henry Ford Motor Company.

There is another Henry Ford connection: Leo Melanowski, Winton’s trusted chief engineer, had proposed hiring Ford as a mechanic. Winton, however, felt that Ford lacked the temperament needed to take orders or focus on bringing a project to completion.

In 1902, Winton built the first of three custom race cars, all named the Bullet.

Bullet No.1 was the first car to win a sanctioned race at Daytona Beach, Florida. Bullet No.2 was built for the Gordon Bennett Cup in Ireland in 1903 and was one of the first eight-cylinder automobiles built.

As a result of mechanical issues, this car did not complete the race. However, after being brought back to the United States and repaired, Barney Oldfield drove it to a near-record of 80mph at Daytona. Before retiring from racing Winton retired built a Bullet No.3. Oldfield toured the country with that car and launched an award-winning racing career that would span decades.  

Aside from racing, Winton used practical application as a promotional platform. In 1897, Winton and William Hatcher, shop superintendent, drove from Cleveland to New York City with tremendous media attention. In 1899 he made a second trip with Charles Shanks, a Cleveland Plain Dealer reporter as a passenger and sales soared with 100 vehicles finding buyers by the end of the year.

Not all the customers were satisfied. James Ward Packard purchased a vehicle in 1898 and broke down several times on the way home. In a heated argument with Winton, Packard was told that if he thought he could build a better automobile he should do so. The challenge was accepted and the Packard Automobile Company was born.

In 1901, Winton set his sights on an unprecedented adventure that would also ensure international media focus on his automobiles. With Charles Shanks on board to cover the odyssey, Winton proposed a coast-to-coast drive of the United States, the first by automobile.

The ill-fated venture left San Francisco with great promise but ended abruptly on the east side of the Sierra Nevada mountains.

Shanks wrote: “That the expedition failed is no fault of the machine Mr. Winton used, nor was it due to absence of grit or determination on the part of the operator. Neither was the failure due to roads. The utter absence of roads was the direct and only cause.”

Dr. H Nelson Jackson triumphed where Winton had failed and became the first to cover the distance, in 1903. As Jackson was driving a Winton, the company benefitted mightily from the endeavor. Sales soared to 850 cars in 1903, and 1100 by 1907.

Winton quickly developed a reputation for inventiveness and generosity. Over the course of his career he would develop, and patent more than one hundred items related to automobiles, engines, and bicycles. Indicative of his character, he offered his safety related patents for free to interested manufacturers.

Winton continued building cars through 1924 with innovations like a steering wheel in 1901, shaft drive, external and internal brakes on the same brake drum, and the first American diesel engine in 1913. The post WWI economic recession struck the auto industry hard and even pioneering companies such as Winton were not spared. Sales plummeted and in 1922, Winton issued a statement that the company was “financially embarrassed.” In 1923 there was a stillborn initiative to merge Winton with Haynes and Dorris. On February 11, 1924, Winton closed the automobile company and initiated liquidation.

However, he continued operation of a subsidiary company, the Winton Gas Engine and Manufacturing Company, that manufactured marine and diesel engines. The company prospered into the early years of the Great Depression before being sold to General Motors.

In the pantheon of automotive pioneers Winton is in good company, as he is but one of many that has been relegated to obscurity. Still, one can’t help but ponder what the world would be like today if Winton hadn’t added a motor to a bicycle, selected a steering wheel rather than the traditional tiller or perfected the diesel engine.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Style leader from small beginnings

 Auburn made numerous pioneering contributions and was known for innovation, style and performance.

 IN 1900, Frank and Morris Eckhart saw merit in making automobiles. With funding from their father, Charles, they established the Auburn Automobile Company that year.

The initial product was an assembled car built with parts sourced from an array of companies. The assembly process took place in a corner of the carriage company factory, whose craftsman built the wood framing for the bodies.

Nothing much came from their enterprise until the brothers displayed a car at the 1903 Chicago Auto Show. That put them into the spotlight.

By 1909 the brothers were successful enough to absorb two local automobile manufacturers and relocate production to a larger facility in 1909. The company enjoyed moderate and steady sales growth until the First World War, a shortage of materials dramatically curtailed manufacturing.

For investors and in media interviews the brothers painted a rosy picture, but the truth is that the company was in serious financial trouble. In 1919, on the cusp of bankruptcy, the company was sold to a group of Chicago investors that included William Wrigley Jr., the chewing gum mogul. Still, the company languished result of the economic recession, dated styling and a limited dealer network.

By 1924 only six cars a day were rolling from the factory and yet there was a surplus of unsold cars that was growing. Then to salvage something from their investment, the board of directors turned to E.L. Cord, the Chicago whiz kid that had transformed the St. Louis-based Moon from a moribund automobile manufacturing company to solvency.

After evaluating the operation Cord accepted the position of general manager at Auburn in exchange for a modest salary, stock options, and the option of buying controlling interest in the company.

His first step? Add nickel trim and repaint unsold stock. Then he cut the wholesale price but added an options list and hosted an auto show for area dealers on the town square.

He offered the dealers huge discounts and, within a few months, had sold off his overstock. As the log jam of unsold inventory began to move, in 1925 he contracted with Lycoming for eight-cylinder engines that were then installed in the formerly six-cylinder Auburns. This as well as a slight tweak to the bodies to present a more streamlined appearance and two-tone paint options led to a dramatic increase in sales.

Incredibly by 1926, Auburn was not only a profitable company, it was also counted among the top 20 manufacturers in the United States; no mean feat as there were dozens of automobile companies in operation at the time.

Rather than rest on his laurels, Cord hired Alen Leamy and Gordon Buehrig, cutting edge young automotive designers, and entered a limited partnership with the Duesenberg Company that had limited production of high-performance automobiles. He also established an extensive nationwide dealer network with a focus on select cities.

Cord used the Duesenberg association as the cornerstone for building a diverse industrial empire that included a new line of performance-oriented luxury cars. He incorporated some of these features into the L-29 Cord, the American automobile industry’s first successful front wheel drive car. Then with acquisition of controlling interest in Duesenberg, he shifted into high gear even though the economy was beginning to falter.

In 1928, the Auburn 8-115 was introduced with hydraulic rather than mechanical brakes. These cars were used to establish Auburn’s reputation for speed, performance, and luxury at the price of a Buick. At Daytona that year the Auburn 8-115 was driven to a speed record of 108.46 miles per hour.

The resultant media attention and a brilliant marketing strategy resulted in 1929 being the best year yet for the Auburn Automobile Company. Dealers clambered for cars and production was unable to meet demand even though manufacturing facilities were expanded.

Using the profitable company as leverage, Cord began acquiring companies to streamline operations, diversify income streams, and lessen the company’s dependence on other manufacturers. He purchased or acquired controlling interest in Stinson Aircraft, Anstead Engine Company, Lycoming, Limousine Auto Body, Duesenberg Motors, and Columbia Axle Company. He also expanded into the commercial market by introducing the Auburn Saf-T-Cab, a car purpose built as a taxi. This led to a limited partnership with Checker Cab Manufacturing Company.

  Even thought the economic situation had deteriorated dramatically, and automobile sales had plummeted, in 1932 two new Auburns were introduced, the eight cylinder Model 8-100 and the astounding Model 12 series with V-12 engines at an incredible price of just $975 for the coupe. And as an option, a Columbia dual ratio rear axle was available. For promotion, a fully loaded Auburn Twelve Speedster set several speed records at Muroc Dry Lake, many of which stood until the late 1940s.

Even though sales and profits were plummeting precipitously at the end of 1932 the Auburn 851, a boat tail speedster designed by Gorden Beurig, with a Lycoming straight eight engine and a Schwitzer-Cummins supercharger was introduced. The car was sold with a written guarantee of 100 miles per hour and a plaque on the dash stating that the car had been tested to that speed by Indianapolis 500 driver Abe Jenkins. About 500 of these stunning Auburns were built and sold for $2,245. Still, the company lost money on each car sold as it had been conceived to get buyers into the showroom with the hope of selling them one of the cheaper Auburns. Initially the scheme was a success as sales of Auburn increased by 20 percent, but overall sales had declined by nearly 60 percent since 1929.

To stave off impending collapse, a six-cylinder model was introduced in 1935, initial development of a proposed diesel-powered limousine for 1936 was launched and production of the V-12 and the straight eight were cut. Then precious resources were diverted to the now legendary 810 and 810 Cords. As a result, the last Auburns rolled from the factory in 1936 with little fanfare.

Under investigation from the Securities and Exchange Commission, largely resultant of a questionable partnership with Checker Cab Manufacturing, and the Internal Revenue Service resultant of accounting practices, Cord sold his interest in Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg. On August 7, 1937, the Auburn Automobile Company went out of business and assets were liquidated. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small loss for Cord as at this time he was one of the richest men in the world. He owed airlines, aircraft companies, communication companies, ship lines, and other businesses including taxi franchises.

The Auburns that have survived into the modern era are treasured and revered. When equipped with the Columbia two speed axle, they blend modern road manners with classic car styling and luxury making them an ideal touring car for the modern enthusiast.

Written by Jim Hinckley

Film star, inventor – automotive pioneer

She proposed the turning indicator, electric windscreen wiper and stopping alert on a car and never made a cent from these breakthroughs.

FLORENCE Lawrence was a very unusual woman, to say the very least.

One of the first superstars of the silver screen she also became a passionate automobilist as well as an accomplished mechanic.

And if that wasn’t enough to ensure that she was a media sensation in an era when women in America were not allowed to vote and the Jaxon was promoted as ‘a car so easy to drive, a child or woman could operate it’, she also became an inventor who contributed to the early evolution of the automobile.  

The swirling mists of time have obscured much of her early history. Lawrence was born in Ontario, Canada sometime between 1886 and 1890. Her father, George Bridgwood, worked as a carriage builder and her mother, Charlotte, was a vaudeville and stage performer that used the professional name Lotta Lawrence. So, it was only natural that Florence would join her mother on stage and become an important part of the Lawrence Dramatic Company.

With the advent of the motion picture, Florence Lawrence transitioned from the stage and made her film debut in 1906. Early studios often refused to put actors’ names in the credits, especially women. Nonetheless she quickly became a familiar face to a legion of fans and soon the media had dubbed her the “The Biograph Girl” as she was working for Biograph Studios. Her career spanned decades and the film credits included more than 300 motion pictures.

As her fame soared so did her income and soon, she was earning an astounding $500 per week. Now she was wealthy enough to afford an automobile, something she had become enamored with after a friend provided her with an exhilarating ride through the countryside. She often noted that driving provided her with an unbridled sense of excitement and of freedom. After ownership of a succession of ever more powerful automobiles, in 1912 she purchased a Lozier.

Since 1907 this company had been establishing a reputation for speed and endurance. Over the course of a four-year period cars built by Lozier had been driven in every major race in the United States and several in Europe. No other car of the era broke as many records for speed, for 24-hour endurance runs or for long distance touring without mechanical failure.

All of this came with a price. As an example, Lawrence’s six-cylinder Knickerbocker Berlin model carried a factory list price of $US6500. As the beautiful starlet performed much of her maintenance and repairs, and often took long drives unaccompanied by mechanic or driver, she was a popular focus of interviews and news stories.

After a friend was severely injured in an accident, Lawrence began giving thought to ways for improving automotive safety. In 1914 she devised an innovative mechanism that signaled turns to trailing drivers. With the simple push of a button, a flag was raised and lowered on the rear bumper of the automobile to inform other drivers what direction the car was turning. Next, she developed an ingenious device to alert drivers of a pending stop. When she depressed the brake, a small sign reading “stop” would pop up at the rear of the car.

Unfortunately, she failed to patent any these developments. Likewise, with another that she developed in 1916, the first electric windshield wiper. Even without the patent she prospered from the invention by establishing the Bridgwood Manufacturing Company for the manufacture and distribution of the wiper motors as well as other aftermarket items. As other companies began producing the wiper motor, Lawrence’s mother would try to remedy the patent oversight, but it was too late.

In the late 1920s her movie career was, for the most part, over. After suffering severe burns while attempting to save an actor in a studio fire, and extensive surgeries, she found herself more and more relegated to working as an extra or making step on appearances.

Still, Lawrence maintained an active interest in automobiles and automotive development and invested heavily in various companies including the manufacturers of automobiles as well as parts. And she continued developing aftermarket components such as a radio antenna that could be installed under the running board for Bridgwood Manufacturing Company and established a makeup company. With the crash of the stock market in 1929, and the onslaught of the Great Depression, her companies were forced into bankruptcy and Lawrence was financially devastated. Tragically on December 28, 1938, Lawrence committed suicide.

Lawrence was not the only woman to contribute to the embryonic auto industry. In 1902, Mary Anderson was visiting New York City and became increasingly frustrated as the trolley driver was continuously stopping to clear snow from the front windows. Shortly after returning home to Alabama she designed and patented a hand operated blade that would clear the window without leaving the trolley. Soon numerous automobile manufacturers began offering a “windshield wiper” as an option or as standard equipment.

In 1924, Marie Luhring made history by becoming the first female truck designer when she was hired by Mack Trucks. She also became one of the first woman to join the Society of Automotive Engineers.

Raymond Loewy was an automotive designer of renown. He was also a progressive visionary as evidenced by his hiring of Helen Dryden and Audrey Moore Hodges for the design studio at Studebaker. Nash was another progressive company. They hired Helen Rother Ackerkncoht at assist with development of streamlined bodies. The functional artistry of the 1941 Hudson instrument panel was the creation of Betty Thatcher.

Today Lawrence and her many accomplishments, as well as those of Helen Rother, Marie Luhring and Mary Anderson are less than historic footnotes. But they are only a few of the woman who contributed to the evolution of the automobile, and yet today are largely forgotten.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

The age of the cyclecar

The purpose was to fill a gap in the market between the motorcycle and the car; placing the engine of the first into a construct used by the second. It was a budget experience that bloomed … for a while.

Without a doubt the most intriguing manifestations of the cyclecar in the United States manifested from the fertile imagination of James Scripps-Booth.

IT was an interesting concept, a vehicle that bridged the gap between the automobile and the motorcycle.

 For a time during the early to mid-teens, it was an international fad that launched hundreds of manufacturing endeavours.

 And then in an instant the entire movement became less than an historical footnote. Yet in a way it was a glimpse of the future, the post WWII years when microcars would enjoy popularity, especially in Europe.

As understood at the time, the term cyclecar was in reference to a vehicle with a single cylinder or V-twin engine. They were often air cooled, carried one or two people, had open air light weight bodies, and had two or three wheels. They were born of taxation, especially in Europe, that provided a sizable discount for registration and license of cars with engines under a certain displacement.

 The first cycle cars appeared in 1910. By 1912 they were popular enough to justify Temple Press’s investment in a new magazine, The Cyclecar, on the 27th of November. Also, in that year the Cyclecar Club, forerunner of the British Automobile Racing Club was established.

 But truly indicative of the diminutive car’s popularity are the explosion in manufacturers. As an example, in 1911 the number of cyclecar manufacturers was less than a dozen in Britain and in France. By 1914, there were over 100 manufacturers in each country, as well as others in Germany, Austria, and other European countries, and in the United States.

 Even though the cyclecar was a niche market of the burgeoning automobile industry, especially in the United States where the consumer was already beginning to show affection for larger vehicles, more than one automotive pioneer invested in the idea.

 Benjamin Briscoe had been involved with the auto industry almost from the beginning. As a Detroit sheet metal manufacturer, he had supplied materials for body construction to Ransom Olds, Henry Ford and a multitude of automotive pioneers. He was the initial money man behind David Buick and had partnered with Jonathan Maxwell to create Maxwell-Briscoe. After an ill-planned venture to create a General Motors styled company that led to the collapse of Maxwell-Briscoe, he turned his attentions to European automobile companies. This led to Briscoe’s role in the cyclecar fad.

On his return to the United States, Briscoe purchased the manufacturing facilities of the defunct Standard Electric Car Company in Jackson, Michigan. After acquiring investors, he launched the Argo Motor Company in early 1914 to manufacture an American version of the Ajax, a car Briscoe and his brother had produced in France. Even in 1914, the customer could not expect much of a car for a mere $295, but the Argo was a surprise.  

Essentially this was a luxury version of the diminutive cyclecar. It was a 12-horsepower two-passenger roadster with a four-cylinder water cooled engine, shaft drive, sliding gear transmission that had 44-inch tread and weighed a mere 750-pounds.

For, Briscoe it proved to be a short-lived endeavour. In 1916 he radically transformed the Argo into a more traditional car, and then sold the company to Mansell Hackett. Hackett had built a profitable business buying and liquidating bankrupt automobile manufacturing companies. He continued producing the Argo for two more years alongside the Hackett, a car built from a hodgepodge of parts.

Without a doubt the most intriguing manifestations of the cyclecar in the United States manifested from the fertile imagination of James Scripps-Booth. His first vehicle debuted in 1912. A feature article about the car appeared in The Automobile under a headline that read, “Detroit Man Designs Strange Vehicle.”

The headline was an understatement as the BiAutogo was unlike any vehicle built before or since. It was a two-wheeled, two passenger vehicle with two stabilizing wheels like a bicycles training wheels that could be raised or lowered with a lever in the drivers cockpit.

It was powered by a 45-horsepower V8 engine, the first to be manufactured in Detroit. It had a compressed air starter and four speed transmission. The chain drive enclosure was incorporated into the body. But what people found most striking was the bright red paint and a cooling system that consisted of 450-feet of copper tubing that flowed from the hood and along both sides. Scripps-Booth spent $25,000 building the prototype, and then decided not to manufacture the oddity.

This was not the case with the Rocket, a tandem seat cyclecar. Power was produced through an air cooled Spacke manufactured vee-twin. The car had a wheelbase of 100 inches, and tread 36 inches. It was belt driven with a two-speed transmission and sold for $395. Four hundred cars were produced before the fad began to pass on the US side of the Atlantic. And so, Scripps-Booth turned his attention to the manufacture of a more conventional automobile, at least in appearance.

By 1920 the cyclecar craze was on the fast track to becoming an historic footnote. Today it is a nearly forgotten chapter. And the Argo and the Rocket, the National and Nebraska, Daisy and Fifty-Fifty cyclecars that have survived into the 21st century are revered and treasured. They are tangible links to a brief time in automobile manufacturing history when smaller was better.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com

Remembering C Harold Wills

He was known for an infectious and boundless energy, a sharp mind and a profound ability to transform ideas into reality.

A Wills Saint Clair 1921 Roadster

THE pantheon of men and women who played a role in putting the word on wheels at the dawning of the 20th century is lengthy.

A select few such as Henry Ford, John and Horace Dodge, Louis Chevrolet and Charles Nash were awarded a dubious form of immortality as brand names. Others have faded into obscurity with the passing of time. Counted among the latter is C. Harold Wills.

Wills was known for infectious and boundless energy, a sharp mind, and a profound ability to transform ideas into reality. His mother was an avid fan of the writings of Lord Byron, specifically Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.

Childe Harold Wills despised his name and insisted that instead people use his first initial. His father was well known in Fort Wayne, Indiana as a railroad master mechanic, and began teaching his son the use of tools almost as soon as he could walk, according to stories told by Wills. At age 17 his four-year apprenticeship with the Detroit Lubricator Company commenced. In the evenings he took night courses and studied metallurgy, mechanical engineering, and chemistry. With completion of his studies he accepted a position with the Burroughs Adding Machine Company and by age 23 was employed as the company’s chief engineer.

Fortuitously in 1902 he was introduced to Henry Ford. Intrigued by Ford’s work with the building of a performance cars, Wills began assisting at nights with two legendary race cars, the 999 and the Arrow. This relationship would last seventeen years before ending in a heated argument.

As Ford’s principal shop assistant Wills’ first major contribution drew upon his metallurgical training as he worked on a means to produce lightweight, strong, nickel-chrome vanadium steel in volume. A relentless search to find a mill that would work with him led to a small company in Canton, Ohio. The new lightweight but strong steel was used in production of the 1907 Model N. He was also a major contributor to development of the Model T as it was Wills that conceived and developed its planetary transmission. As a curious historic note, he was an amateur calligrapher and designed the now legendary Ford script.

By WWI Wills and Ford's relationship was strained. Time and again Ford had claimed credit for his work and Charles E. Sorensen was hired as Ford’s right hand man. In 1919, to strengthen his hold on the company Ford began buying out shareholders. This included the Dodge brothers (John Dodge had served as the vice president of Ford). Rather than meekly submitting to Ford’s power grab Wills threatened legal action if a full accounting of the accrued profit-sharing income owed was not completed. With more than $5 million in his pocket Wills parted ways with Ford. He also had nearly $4 million from investment in steel companies that he had persuaded to produce vanadium steel.

Wills had long toyed with the idea of manufacturing an automobile of his own design. But he was a dreamer, a visionary and launching an automobile company was but one component in a much larger plan for the future. In 1920, he initiated plans to build an automobile manufacturing factory that was to be the anchor in an industrial park as well as a planned housing community for employees that included a park, schools and a complete business district with theater.

The car was named Wills Sainte Claire, after the St. Clair River that separated Marysville, Michigan from Ontario, Canada. The fatal flaw in Wills planned automotive empire was an absolute obsession to create a mechanically perfect automobile. Resultant of that attention to detail, the Wills Sainte Claire introduced in 1921 stunned the automotive community. The car was powered by the industry’s first overhead-cam V-8 designed for automotive use. It had a displacement of 265.4 cubic inches and that was rated at 67-horsepower. That engine was a refined version of an overhead valve V-8 engine Wills had designed for aeronautical application during WWI. The engine made extensive use of molybdenum steel, had crossflow induction and exhaust routing, and the block and cylinder heads were cast as a single unit.

The car was doomed from its inception. It debuted with a $3,000 price tag in the midst of a post war reception that had decimated automobile sales. As a comparison, a comparable Cadillac could be purchased for $2,800. Mechanical complexity equaled a high cost of repairs. Still, Wills had realistic expectation and set his breakeven point as 1,500 cars annually. The first year’s production was a mere 900 cars. Anemic sales, and Wills near constant improvements to the manufacturing facility and the cars fueled mounting losses. Even eye-catching plaid paint jobs were not enough to keep the company solvent and in 1927 production ceased. Only 12,000 cars were manufactured under the Wills Sainte Claire name.

Wills was out but not finished. He signed on with Ruxton to assist with development of a transmission for the front wheel drive automobile. He then went to work at Chrysler as a metallurgist. Unfortunately, his attempts to sell or collect royalties under a limited license arrangement for a patented process for production of all steel body shells were unsuccessful. Both Ford and General Motors deemed the process cost prohibitive and continued using wood framing for their vehicles. The smaller independent companies such as Hudson, Packard, Studebaker and Nash could ill afford the investment either, especially amidst the economic troubles of the Great Depression.

Interestingly enough, Wills patents expired in 1937, the year that Ford and GM introduced their first all steel bodied automobiles. It was the final chapter in an amazing automotive career. In the closing days of 1940, Wills suffered a major stroke and was rushed to the Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit. He died there before the dawn of the new year.

C. Harold Wills, a forgotten automotive pioneer.

Written by Jim Hinckley of jimhinckleysamerica.com