Cord 810

Cord 810 1930s American classic car

Errett Cord was a man on a mission. To get rich – or die trying! Maverick to his core, cars were one of several saucers he was spinning. Cord may not have loved cars unconditionally – but he sure as heck loved selling them. Cars like the Cord 810, in fact.

By ’29, Cord had already acquired Auburn and Duesenberg. In due course, he returned both of them to profitability. Time, then, for him to start up his own company. The first model off the line was the Cord L-29. It featured a Lycoming engine and front wheel drive. The motor was not much to write home about. But the FWD most certainly was. Indeed, Miller racing cars were fitted with it. As a result, they were leaving rivals languishing in their wake. Cord decided he could use some of that. Sadly, its FWD was not sufficient to make the L-29 a commercial success. It was held back by its high price and transmission issues. As well as the mediocre motor!

The Cord 810 was launched at the NY show – in December ’35. Its unique selling point – FWD – had been upgraded. More to the point, powering it was a new V8. With the optional supercharger, it produced 190bhp. That gave a top speed of 110mph. Gear changes were electric – literally. A small lever activated cog-shifting solenoids. The 810’s innovative engineering allowed for radical styling. Its unitary construction – with no separate chassis – let Gordon Buehrig design a ‘low rider’ profile. Headlights blended in with the fenders – enhancing the car’s clean lines still further. Inside, too, the Cord cut a dash. Its instrument panel looked as aeronautical as it did automotive. A convertible, phaeton – and two sedans – were on offer. But – even with so much going for it – the 810 did not overburden the showroom tills. To be fair, the Great Depression was not the ideal time to launch a new car. Plus, Errett Cord had other things on his mind. His ‘creative’ business practices attracted attention – some of it from financial regulators. As a result – in ’34 – Cord sought a safe haven in England. With its erstwhile captain no longer at the helm, the good ship Cord was cut adrift. In ’37, it sank without trace. For all that, the Cord 810 – and its 812 successor – had well and truly made their mark. In the annals of avant garde design, that is. Alas, not at the cash registers!

AMC AMX

To all intents and purposes, the AMX was a stripped-down AMC Javelin. It was a foot shorter – and weighed a lot less. On its release – in February ’68 – it was the sole US 2-seater sports car. It stayed in production until ’74. If AMC stood for American Motors Corporation, AMX did the same for American Motors eXperimental.

When a car sets 106 speed records, you know you are onto something. When it does so in a month, you know you have hit pay dirt! So it was when Craig Breedlove got behind the wheel of an AMX, shortly after its launch. Unsurprisingly, AMC saw fit to mark his success – with 50 red, white and blue AMX Breedlove specials. Rewind to the real world, and top speed for the AMX roadster was 120mph. The SS version – complete with a 390ci V8 – made at least 340bhp, and probably a whole lot more. Muscle car stats at the time tended to be understated. Built with one eye on the drag strip, just 50 SSs were sold. Partly, that was because its price was supercharged, as well as its power! If you needed more muscle from a standard AMX, way to go was a Go Pack. It included a bigger 401ci V8 motor. Output duly climbed to 330bhp. The Go Pack also provided uprated brakes, suspension and wheels/tyres.

By ’71, though, the AMX’s hot shot days were numbered. At that point, the top-of-the-range Javelin ruled AMC’s roost. Come ’74 – and the end of its run – its superstar status was substantially reduced. In its day, though, the AMX was more muscular than most. And certainly more modish. Saying that, the Mustang gave it a run for its money in the stylishness stakes!

Excalibur SS

The Excalibur SS was styled by Brooks Stevens – one of the great industrial designers. Stevens was prolific, to say the least. In the course of his 61 years in the profession, he amassed 550 clients – and thousands of designs. Thankfully for gearheads, some of them were for cars. Probably the best-known was the Jeep Jeepster … the first cool 4×4!

Arguably even cooler than the Jeep was the Excalibur J sports-racer. It first appeared in ’52. But, Stevens really hit the jackpot – at least in publicity terms – with the Excalibur SS concept car. Unveiled in ’63, it catered to the increasingly popular trend for all things ‘retro’. The SS wowed the NY Auto Show. Stevens was inundated with orders. With its Studebaker Lark chassis – and supercharged V8 engine – the SS was an intriguing mix of old and new. Dyed-in-the-wool vintage fans did not like it. Everyone else loved it!

Concept car complete, Stevens’ next step was to render the SS roadworthy. A Chevrolet Corvette engine was duly inserted into the rear of a modified chassis. In true vintage style, there were flexible metal exhaust pipes and an aluminium radiator shell. The retro body panels were, in fact, glassfibre. Stevens’ two sons were tasked with marketing the SS. Roadster and Phaeton models were available. Peak power was 300bhp. Top speed was 140mph. To be fair, the Excalibur SS was never going to satisfy every taste. Just 359 cars were built. But surely – even the most fastidious vintage car aficionado can find something to like about it? Oh, well – perhaps not!

Plymouth Prowler

The Plymouth Prowler was a hot rod for the new millennium. Tom Gale was head of design at Chrysler – Plymouth’s parent company. He had long been a hot rod aficionado – and was especially enamoured of those made in the 1930s. Gale picked up his pen – and drew a modern variant on the classic theme. Fast forward to Chrysler’s stand at the ’93 Detroit Auto Show. Gale’s sketch had been turned into ‘dream car’ reality. The public’s response was favourable, to say the least. Chrysler’s top brass immediately saw an opportunity to reinvigorate the Plymouth brand. They reckoned hot rod culture was deeply embedded in the American psyche. Lots of folk would love to own one – but did not have the time or know-how to build it. Why not build it for them? Feasibility studies duly completed, the Prowler project was given the green light.

According to Chrysler, customers were getting the best of both worlds. The Prowler provided the practical benefits of modern technology – as well as retro-style good looks. Whopping 20″ rear wheels were wrapped in 295-section rubber. The front wheels were 17″. The nose of the car was iconic hot rod – high cheek-bones, jutting jawline, and a slimline grille. Only the bumpers on some models gave the chronological game away. They were a plastic concession to modern-day safety legislation. Consummately-crafted suspension components were in plain view. Bodywork was steel and aluminium.

The Prowler was powered by the Chrysler Vision V6. The 3.5-litre engine produced an impressive 218bhp. Purists would probably have preferred it to have been a V8 – but you cannot please everyone. Top speed was 125mph. 0-60 was reached in 7.7s. Acceleration was assisted by light weight – just 2,900lb of it. 11,702 Plymouth Prowlers were sold – in a five-year run. Chrysler were proved right … the hot rod was still an integral part of the American Dream!

Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz

The Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz was one outrageous roadster. Launched in ’59, it looked like a Saturn space-rocket. Certainly, you could have seen it coming from a mile away. Not that it would have arrived as quickly as a rocket – its top speed being 115mph. It would have helped, too, had said mile been a smooth stretch of freeway. The Biarritz’s springy suspension might have got the jitters, otherwise. But – given the right road – the Biarritz was a car like no other. The epitome of OTT styling, it took Fifties sci-fi mania to another level. Rear fins had never been higher – up to a skyscraper-like 42″. Jutting out of them was a ray-gun of indicators and brake-lights. And – were they tail-lights or after-burners? A cosmetic rear grille inspired further flights of spaced-out fancy.

Powering the plot was a 6.3-litre V8. It made a more than respectable 345bhp. Much of that, though, was soaked up by the Biarritz’s two-ton weight problem. It did not do the fuel economy any favours, either. A measly 8mpg were available. There again, petrol in ’50s America was cheap as chips. Holding it all together was a perimeter frame chassis. Drum brakes were fitted all round. Not exactly space-age, technically. But, then, that had been sorted by the design department!

The Biarritz was off-the-clock comfortable. Zero-gravity, you might say! That was due, mainly, to its super-soft suspension settings. All six seats were power-adjustable. The boot-lid opened electrically. Headlight-dipping was automatic. Of course, there was power-steering. The hood and windows were also electrically-operated. Transmission was via a 3-speed auto. The car was named after a mythical city, made out of gold – and a sophisticated French seaside resort. Cadillac’s Eldorado Biarritz was everything you would expect from a machine so dubbed. Oh – space-walks were an extra!

Edsel

In brand-name terms, the Edsel and Mercury were peas from the same pod. In reality, the Edsel was made by Ford. Technically, though, Edsel was a marque in its own right. Certainly, it was sold as such – from ’58 to ’60. Ford forecast that – in the first year alone – it would sell 200,000 Edsels. As it turned out, a mere 62,000 shunted through the showrooms – in the whole of its two-year run. The Edsel had cost Ford $250,000,000 to develop – so, the mediocre sales figures were not good! To say the Edsel was a white elephant would be an understatement. Which was a shame, actually – because it was a car that could have had a lot going for it. Sadly, though, Ford’s timing was out. Not that it was really the Blue Oval’s fault. Ford’s sales team had targeted lower-middle demographics – lodged somewhere between their up-market models and the cut-price Mercury. When the Edsel went into production, however, the automotive industry was depressed. Customers were looking to buy cheap. The Edsel was stuck in marketing no man’s land.

As with the Mercury, there were echoes of the Ferrari Dino in the Edsel. At least, insofar as both were presented as stand-alone marques. Both, too, were named after prematurely deceased sons. Dino Ferrari – and Edsel Ford – passed before their time. The cars were fathers’ tributes – from Enzo and Henry, respectively. It was especially sad, then, that in the case of the Edsel, sales were so poor. A front-end feature that definitely did not help was the vertically-shaped grille. American buyers simply did not take to it. Ironically, the rest of the car was quite conservatively styled. As compared with its Fifties rivals, at any rate. The Edsel ‘brand’ comprised 15 models – including saloons, convertibles and station-wagons. The one part they had in common was the floor-pan!

The Edsel’s engine came in one of two flavours – straight-six or V8. Peak power was 350bhp. Top speed, 108mph. Manual and auto ‘boxes were both 3-speed. Biggest capacity was 6,719cc. Edsels are now highly sought-after. In different economic circumstances, the Edsel may well have been a success. As it is, it has to settle for an impressively high ‘one that got away’ rating!

Chevrolet Corvair

Sadly, the Chevrolet Corvair did not deliver on its potential. That was down to the fact that it garnered a reputation for oversteer. Pro motoring whistle-blower Ralph Nader pounced all over the Corvair’s alleged defects. They lay, he said, mainly in the handling department. Nader duly detailed them in his book Unsafe At Any Speed. This was a tract devoted to automotive health and safety. His words were diligently read by American drivers – and the Corvair’s fate was sealed. A ’64 revamp – with revised rear suspension – was a last-ditch attempt to rid the Chevy of its wild child image. It did not work.

Certainly, though, the Corvair got a tick in the box marked technical innovation. For a start, it featured a rear-mounted flat-six engine. Also, its suspension was fully independent. Throughout the Sixties, several versions of the Corvair were released. As well as a sporty coupé and stylish convertible, there was a turbo-charged model. The latter produced 180bhp. Which gave a top speed of 105mph.

Chevrolet designed the Corvair to take the fight to cheap European cars, flooding into US showrooms, at the time. It was marketed as ‘compact’ – though that was more by American than European metrics. Size-wise, it was similar to the British-made Ford Zephyr. Styling-wise, though, the Corvair’s restrained lines were cut from distinctly European cloth. More so than most of its American siblings, anyway. Indeed, Chevrolet went so far as to dub the coupé version, the Monza. And, the Corvair would go on to influence the Hillman Imp and NSU Prinz. Over a million Corvairs were built. It should have been more. Those misgivings about handling never quite subsided. As a result, ’64’s Ford Mustang galloped ahead, in sales terms. So far as American automobiles were concerned, however, the Chevrolet Corvair blazed a perfectly-formed trail for European-style sophistication.

Hudson Commodore

Founded in 1909, Hudson was a middling motor car manufacturer. Up until ’48, that is. Which is when their Step Down models were launched. Overnight, Hudson became a byword for cool. Even the bottom-of-the-range Pacemaker was sought-after. The Commodore was coveted!

Hudson’s design department had worked overtime. Either that, or something had suddenly clicked. The curves of the Commodore’s bodywork revealed a new set of shapes. They would dominate car styling through the Fifties. In particular, the Commodore’s low-rider profile was ahead of the game. It was enabled by Monobilt – a unitary-construction process Hudson had developed. The Commodore’s floor-pan was beneath the chassis. So, occupants literally stepped down into the cabin. But, Monobilt was more than merely pleasing on the eye. It was safer, too. Passengers were surrounded – and, indeed, protected – by a robust perimeter frame.

As 6-seater saloon cars go, the Commodore was pretty quick. The 8-cylinder engine version produced 128bhp. That made it good for 93mph. Half a million Commodores were duly sold. But – sadly for small car companies – the automotive sharks were circling. Firms like Hudson were small fry, compared to the bigger fish in Detroit’s pool. With Ford, GM and Chrysler as rivals, it had always been on the back foot. In ’54, Hudson bowed to the inevitable and merged with Nash – simply to stay afloat. By then, though, it had had its day in the sun. Hudson’s Step Down cars – most notably, the Commodore – were stylish, functional, fast and safe. What was not to like?

Lincoln Continental

It is not often that a car plays its part in history. Sadly, though, that was the case for the Lincoln Continental. For, it was while riding in the stretched Presidential version – through Dallas, Texas, in ’63 – that John F Kennedy was fatally shot. The Continental was tailor-made for affairs of state. The MkII Continental – released in ’56 – came with virtually every mod con going. Naturally, it was graced with a price tag to match. What distinguished it was its pristine lines and sober styling. Chrome and fins were in evidence. But nothing like so much as on most other highway exotica, of the time. The Continental packed serious gravitas. In short, it had class!

’61 ushered in the most iconic Continental of all. That was the legendary ‘clap-door’ model. It acquired the tag on account of its rear-hinged back door. To say the least, it needed to be opened with care. Backwards-looking visibility was not its strong suit. Beware passing motorcycles! The second the new Lincoln was launched, celebrities’ minders strong-armed their way to the showrooms. Before long, everyone who was anyone had gone Continental. The new car had the lot! Shapely elegance, lashings of luxury – and, courtesy of Ford – a rorty V8. The Continental’s top speed was 125mph. Its 3-speed automatic gearbox made it a breeze to drive – especially if you were in the ‘power-top’ convertible version. The Continental saloon ate straightaways for breakfast. Corners – it has to be said – were slightly less to its taste. 7.0- and 7.5-litre engines were fitted. Maximum output was 365bhp. So – performance-wise – the Continental was no slouch. And that was with 5,215lb of body mass to move.

The Continental was a crowd-puller from the get-go. With its bulbous nose – and ‘egg-crate’ grille – it was a magnet for passers-by. Subsequent models, though, were less charismatic. The MkIII Continental, for example, had all of the size – but less of the charm – of its spotlessly-styled predecessor. So meticulously built was the original that Lincoln lost money on it. Into the ’60s – and the Continental continued to pick up plaudits. It comprised, after all, the best of both worlds – American scale and European refinement. Brawn mixed with chic, so to speak. All in all, the Lincoln Continental was one of a kind. A fitting backcloth, then, for that doom-laden day in Dallas – when the whole of the world held its breath!

Pontiac Firebird

The Pontiac Firebird flew onto the American car scene in February, ’67. Released at the same time as GM’s Chevrolet Camaro, they were two peas from the same pony car pod. The most iconic early ‘Bird was ’69’s Trans Am. The ‘Trans-American’ was a road race – organised by The Sports Car Club of America. The Pontiac Trans Am was a star turn. Complete with rear spoiler, beefed-up chassis and Ram Air power delivery, it was a muscle car par excellence. Blue and white livery set it off to a tee. Its split-grille nose became the stuff of legend. Indeed, the Firebird would be a flagship for the Pontiac brand for years to come.

The Firebird entered its second phase in 1970. Restyled for the new decade, it was in the Seventies that the car came into its own. In ’78 alone, Pontiac sold more than 93,000 Trans Ams. Customers could choose one of three models – standard, luxury Esprit or Formula. For sure, the Firebird was spreading its wings. In fact, it was lucky to have fledged at all. GM considered pulling the plug on the Firebird in ’72. They were not convinced that performance cars were the way to go. Thankfully, the Firebird was given the benefit of the doubt. As things turned out, GM would be well-rewarded for their faith in the Firebird.

A third generation of Firebirds arrived in the Eighties. Its charismatic, but time-worn nose had had plastic surgery. It was now more finely-chiselled – and sported cowled headlamps. ’87’s GTA version featured a 350 cu in V8 engine. Top-of-the-range as it was, the GTA was good for 125mph. It hit 60 in just 5.4s. Design-wise, though, the Firebird was starting to look its age – especially parked next to hot foreign competition. As a result, sales suffered. So, Nineties Firebirds were given a stylistic facelift. No ravages of time, though, could detract from the glamour of the early years. One of the all-time great American automobiles, the Pontiac Firebird blazed a phoenix-like trail. Whatever automotive fashion dished out, it somehow always rose from the ashes!

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