(first posted 5/29/2016) In 1967 Annie and I had the 1961 Comet and the 1964 VW Beetle that I shared with my father as a commuter car to the NYC subway system. We also had a baby son, Chris, who seemed to travel with more luggage and accessories than his parents combined.
It was time for Annie to get a car that she wanted. She never really warmed to the Comet. I know, that’s hard to believe. Annie wanted a car with a better measure of reliability, more safety features, more room (especially in the trunk), an automatic transmission, and power steering.
There were a lot of cars back then that fit Annie’s requirements. The one we liked best looked good and acted well.
I perused the usual suspect car magazines of the day and all the gurus were waxing eloquent about Pontiac’s overhead cam 6 that had been introduced in model year 1966. They proclaimed V8 power in a six. Sounded good, but most car savvy people took this to be more a case of GM marketing than an end user reality.
Still, the benefits of an overhead cam straight six were tantalizing.
The hot ticket Tempest was the one that came with the OHC-6 Sprint option. This version was a performance machine with a four-barrel carburetor, hot cam, high compression ratio, large valves, stiffer valve springs, and a split exhaust manifold.
But we were married folks with a child, and it was the base version of the Tempest and its still esoteric but more modest engine that we liked.
The base Tempest OHC-6 sounded like a neat “European-style” car with an engine that would be smooth, quiet, maybe a bit rev-happy, but also practical.
It had a big trunk and impressive safety options such as collapsible steering column, seat belts, lane changing directional signals, 4-way hazard lights, dual circuit brake lines, and locks that kept the front seat backs from folding forward unintentionally.
It was a sensible car for sensible people with just a subtle touch of élan.
When one becomes a parent, one’s priorities change.
Remember those child seats you hung over the back of the front seat. You know what I mean; they came with a little plastic seat belt and steering wheel? Depending on your age, you might remember them or you might have sat in them.
The front seat back locks of the two door Tempest made these child seats “more secure”.
Sometimes I’m surprised that any of us survived the pre-safety revolution period of motoring.
To this day, when I have to make an unexpected quick stop I throw my right arm out to protect a car-seated child who isn’t there. Where is he? In Ohio; he’s 50 years old.
The Tempest was also attractive to our 1967 eyes. It still looks good to me in 2016.
Paul did a write up on this Pontiac A-body Here and JPCavanaugh did one There. But these two CC articles were looking at the top or near top models. Annie and I were looking at the lowest level of the Tempest hierarchy.
The Tempest had that signature Pontiac split grill, the vertically stacked headlights, and a sleek rear window treatment that some people called a flying buttress.
The base 1967 Tempest OHC-6 had 230 cu. in., generated 165 hp at 4,700 rpm, and was fed by a one barrel carburetor. This A body was 206 inches long and weighed just a bit over 3,000 pounds.
Note-1: 206 inches! That only 15 inches shorter than my current 18.5 foot long 2013 Toyota Tacoma double cab long bed and that Tacoma’s length continues to intimidate me in crowded parking lots and some other places as well. Funny, I never thought of the Tempest as “big”. After all, it was the “compact” Pontiac.
Our Tempest came with a two speed automatic transmission and a 2.56 rear axle.
That two speed automatic transmission felt like Powerglide and the shift quadrant looked like Powerglide, but it wasn’t called Powerglide. Pontiac called it “two speed automatic transmission”.
Maybe Powerglide sounded too Chevy-ish.
With all the fancy names given to automobile transmissions over the years one would think that GM could spend seven minutes thinking up a name for the Tempest two speed unit.
Perhaps they did. Hey Boss, how about calling this “The Tempest Two-speed”. People like alliteration, right?
Or maybe GM’s Tempest transmission terminology team (sorry) was a bit like the Waco kid in Blazing Saddles:
Sherriff Bart: What’s your name?
The Waco Kid: Well, my name is Jim, but most people call me … … … … Jim.
Or maybe they just named the transmission the way Holly Golightly named her cat.
I’ll stop now.
The transmission and axle combination meant that it long legs, good for low engine RPMs at highway speeds, but not very quick off the line. One day that lack of acceleration would be very important to this writer.
I never tested how fast it would go in first gear. It did seem like it could accelerate forever without shifting, like a 1950 Buick straight 8 with Dynaflow. But, as the owner and payer of any subsequent auto repair bills, I didn’t want to find out.
Interesting features of the Pontiac OHC-6 included an oil pump, distributor gearing, and mechanical fuel pump drive that were located along the outside the right (passenger) side of the block and driven by the OHC fiber-glass reinforced cogged rubber timing belt.
I was never aware of any restrictions regarding the life of the timing belt as I would be later with my Honda and Mazda COALs. Perhaps I just forgot or missed that section of the owner’s manual. The Tempest engine was not an interference design, so even if the belt broke, the valves would not impact the pistons. Fortunately in its 100,000 plus miles life, the timing belt never broke or needed any adjustments.
The interior was GM neo-spartan. Functional, hot in the summer, cold in the winter, and easy to clean after little Chris’ bottle of formula came back up.
No A/C. When I said spartan, I meant spartan.
Lap belts only, but that was good enough for me. The lap belts I installed in the ill-fated 1959 Ford wedding gift had served me very well.
Note-2: Looking back at that time frame from 2016, I am amazed that the US auto industry, with all of its engineers and millions in development dollars, could not come up with the simple concept of retractable three point seat belts. I mean, this was not exactly rocket science. Or heart surgery. Indeed, the first heart transplant took place in late 1967, but design effective and easy to use seat belts? That was too hard!
Our regular runs from Long Island to Binghamton NY where Annie’s mother lived were a breeze in the Tempest. It was quiet, comfortable, and the engine had a surprisingly nice touch of thrust (with no down shifts) when pulling out to pass slower traffic at speed. Once the OHC-6 got its RPMs and ground speed up a bit, it went like a gazelle.
Chris sat in that hang-on-the-seat-back car seat and steered it like he stole it.
After driving the 53 Chrysler, the 57 Olds, the 59 Ford, the 61 Comet, and the 64 Beetle, this was definitely a nice step up in comfort, perceived safety (it still had drum brakes), reliability, and lightness of being. I could and did drive this car all day long and never feel fatigued. Nice work Pontiac!
And Annie loved it. That was important.
Back in the 1960’s buying a new car was to many people riskier than getting a used one. Most new cars had to go through a shake down phase where defects were identified and rectified (sometimes reluctantly) by the dealer’s service department. What was normal then would be unacceptable now.
The Tempest had two issues. First, the energy absorbing steering column had a kink in it. Turning the wheel in either direction would result in a vague clicking sound and a kinking sensation. I felt it; Annie did not. It took one visit to get the dealer’s service department to fix it. Once fixed, it stayed fixed.
The second issue was more problematic; the engine had a knock. Not loud, but definitely there. It sounded like one of the pistons was a tad too loose in the cylinder. It did not seem like a minor issue. The dealer was reluctant to address it the first time. On second visit we insisted that this was serious and our complaint was elevated up the ladder to the “area rep”. I even wrote a letter to Pontiac’s Division Head John Z Delorean asking for assistance and suggesting that GM’s “Mark of Excellence” was in danger of losing its luster.
I do not think JZD intervened, but the dealer did call us and ask us to bring the car in. They would need it for “a while” and we were given a 1965 Tempest 4 door sedan as a loaner.
Note-3: In the early 1990’s I worked for Digital Equipment Corporation (which would become Compaq and then HP, long story – another COAL) in technical sales support and was meeting a customer in a fancy French restaurant in Bernardsville NJ. While we waited I realized that John Z. Delorean was sitting alone at a table for two near a window and had placed a single red rose on the plate opposite his. He waited a long time at that table. While our customer and the DEC sales rep were talking, JZD finally got up and left the restaurant alone, red rose still on the opposite plate. He looked terrible, beaten down and now stood up. I felt bad for him. He died in 2005 at age 80. No matter what the world thought of his late life business dealings, he was one heck of a good car guy.
We had that 1965 loaner four door for five weeks. One Sunday Annie, Chris, and I went to the closed dealership to see if “our” car was there. We did not see the car itself but there was a big blue motor on the service workbench. Not sure if it was ours, but I bet it was.
When we got the car back it was fine. I was a bit troubled that a new car needed a five week repair, but we were both happy to have it back, and even if they offered us a replacement, how much trouble would the new replacement be? Not exactly a Catch-22, but not too far from it either.
From thefreedictionary:
catch-22 n
- a situation in which a person is frustrated by a paradoxical rule or set of circumstances that preclude any attempt to escape from them
- a situation in which any move that a person can make will lead to trouble
I comforted myself by saying I had car with a hand built motor.
When we got the Tempest I was still at Shell Oil. The change to Grumman in 1969 was traumatic in many ways. Where Shell was a wood desk hushed carpeted office 9 to 5 work place, Grumman was steel desk bull penned chaos, where 12 hour days were not unusual. Every minute of work had to be accounted for and applied to either a Navy contract or overhead. And each Navy contract had officials who made sure any time charged to their projects was verifiable and needed.
In early 1970 Grumman created Grumman Data Systems (GDS). The office building at 1111 Stewart Ave in Bethpage Long Island was built for GDS and named Plant 35 in the parlance of Grumman facilities. Today, it is the home of Cablevision. Letters from Cablevision with the return address of 1111 Stewart Avenue Bethpage NY still make me smile.
It was hoped that GDS would go after and win non-Navy information technology (IT) contracts and add to Grumman Aerospace’s revenue much as MacDonald Douglas Automation had done for its parent company.
While the Navy provided most of GDS’ initial business, we developed a proposal team to go after government and private sector RFPs (requests for proposals). This required long hours working on the detailed and complex RFP responses. We often worked all night and multiple days in a row to complete these proposal responses by their deadlines.
When completed, the responses had to be delivered to the requester in Washington DC.
GDS management played it safe. We made twice as many copies of the proposal response as needed. One set was taken to Washington by the project team leader on Grumman’s corporate Gulfstream 1, a turbo-prop version of what would later become the famous Gulfstream corporate jet line. Nice plane. The G1 had a flight attendant who served snacks.
Another set of proposal responses were given to a low level employee (that was usually me) to take to Washington on the Eastern Airlines shuttle. This was the plan in case one of the planes crashed. These proposals responses were valuable; a lot of time and money had been spent developing them.
Apparently, low level employees were expendable.
I would drive the 64 VW Beetle to LaGuardia, buy a ticket at the little EAL shuttle booth, and then walk out to the waiting three tone silver and blue plane, usually an old 727. I didn’t mind doing this; flying to and from Washington was time well spent looking out of windows. The plane itself was kind of worn out and shabby. Shuttle duty was rough on flight attendants and some of them took it out on the passengers. No food was served.
I was also showing my management how many programming feats I could perform using the Mark IV file management system. GDS management liked what they saw and invested in additional Mark IV features that made the system more powerful and a greater challenge to the then dominant Cobol cabal at Grumman.
But all of this business excitement and long hours took my eyes off family life. Computers are easy to work with; people are much more complex. And spouses are more complex still.
Annie was a mother, worked at a church school, was working on one or more masters degrees, and was married to a man who was rarely home. This all was taking a toll on her that I might have seen had I not been so consumed with my own work. Or maybe I saw it and could not, would not, or didn’t know how to, deal with it. Like I said, computers are easy; people are hard.
There were arguments, bouts of temper, and then quiet but ultimately temporary resolutions. I think my refusal to engage in arguments with Annie made things worse. Perhaps if I had argued back it would have provided some cathartic relief for her. But my nature was to withdraw. Our marriage was not going well.
Maybe the little cottage was giving us cabin fever. We bought a small two bedroom house built in 1918 in Rockville Center for a very low price. We took over the low rate mortgage and got a second loan for much of the balance. It was a handyman’s special and on top of that also needed termite remediation work. We set about to fix it up.
The kitchen was 1930’s or so and the stove was mounted on a bed of bricks that went along the floor and up the wall. We ripped out the kitchen and the bricks and put in a nicer kitchen. I cut wood to replace the termite eaten areas and got a gallon of liquid chlordane. It was legal then.
I soaked the cut wood in the chlordane and brushed the strong smelling thin white liquid onto areas I could not soak. There was a lot of splashing and spills. No gloves. No masks. No eye protection. I guess no brains either. When I was done replacing the bad wood with the chlordane soaked pieces, I poured the rest of the poison around the foundation where the termite tunnels were seen.
I carved my initials into those chlordane soak wood pieces with the date “1970”. I wonder if they are still there.
I’m not exactly sure what the following means, but it doesn’t sound good:
ACUTE/CHRONIC HAZARDS: Chlordane may be toxic by ingestion, inhalation or skin absorption [033],[062]. It is an irritant and may be absorbed through the skin [051],[102],[346],[371]. Effects at higher dosage levels may be cumulative [421]. When heated to decomposition it emits toxic fumes of carbon monoxide, hydrogen chloride gas, chlorine and phosgene [043],[051],[102],[371].
I did wash my hands afterward. I’m not a complete idiot.
The house didn’t solve our relationship issues. If anything, the constant tasks the house demanded of us made those issues worse. Annie and I continued to grow apart with little Chris in the middle. The more we dove into our respective worlds, the worse it became.
What has this dreary tale about marital strife and homeowner woes have to do with Curbside Classic COALs?
It will all come together.
Literally.
(That’s Cuba Gooding Sr.)
Just wow. Back in 1997, had the chance to buy a ’66, Tempest, OHC 6 and three on the floor. I passed. Why? It was not from around here (PacNW) and it was a little too rusty for me. I could have got it for $800; I regret not buying it now
All employees are expendable: that’s what I was told March 31st, 2015 by the branch manager at Eoff Electric Supply, Portland branch, when I was “laid off”
I know the feeling…after 35 years with Snap-on Tools, I was told there was no place in the organization for me (by an HR person who had been there less than 2 years) when my department was eliminated by a new CEO.
3-point inertia reel belts were fitted to the Vauxhall Viscount from introduction in June 1966, so GM did have such things. The 3-point belts were mandatory fittings on all new UK cars since the mid ’60s, but most were fixed point and had to be adjusted by the wearer.
Vauxhall’s Viscount was top of the range, the Tempest especially the one in the post wasnt.
yes, of course they knew about 3-point belts. the point is that gm wasn’t looking out for their customers best interests. that hasn’t changed.
really great article. this is the kind of thing that keeps me coming back.
as an aside, i think dec (digital equipment corp) which the rl mentions in the article is a largely unsung hero of the digital era. i used their early systems in college and learned video editing on something called a cmx which was a dec computer modified by ex-nasa engineers. i believe windows nt which is the basis of modern windows was largely based on code that microsoft acquired from dec.
I heard it wasn’t the code but Dave Cutler’s expertise which NT inherited from DEC’s VAX/VMS.
Little known fact. Both the ’67 Pontiac and the ’64 Beetle actually were built with anchor points for outboard shoulder belts both front and rear. But if belts were installed they would have been the old style 2 piece manual adjustment type belts. They could have been ordered from the dealer or retrofitted with used belts.
Great series, hope it has a happy ending marriage wise. (I suspect it does).
I would love to have that Pontiac, ideally it would have the HO 6 Cyl with 4 barrel, a 5 speed overdrive trans, and a front disc brake setup. And add the shoulder belts. The rest, even the color is perfect.
Getting 100k miles out of this engine, especially with the original timing belt is pretty amazing.
Had a friend who in the early ’80’s bought a ’67 Firebird basket case with the 4 speed and the 4 barrel OHC 6 engine. Towed it home for her. Lost contact with her, don’t know if she ever got it restored, it was in pretty rough shape.
My second car was a 1971 VW Karmann-Ghia convertible equipped with separate manually adjusted front shoulder restraints. A very tight lap belt has never felt restrictive to me (perhaps from millions of air miles?) But in order to have the shoulder belt tight enough to be effective you could only operate a vehicle with internal confines more like the Mercury Space capsule. It may have been more tolerable had it been anchored at a point above your shoulder, but absent a B pillar this one went over then below your shoulder behind the seat. So the end result was I stopped wearing it. To this day I carry a scar just below my nose and above my lip where my face impacted the steering wheel when a large Buick pulled out in front of me following an extended evening at a Drive-In theater then stalled from fuel exhaustion as soon as the automatic choke opened. The good news is the lap belt kept me in the car.
I’ve never owned (or driven) the Pontiac OHC-6, but it always intrigued me. It was almost as “out there” as the Corvair Flat-6. Totally un-American. Okay, maybe not as wild as the Corvair engine… I seem to recall that the block was very close to the Chevy Stovebolt, but still, GM took a chance. The next time they took a chance like that was the Vega engine, and after that dismal failure, GM really never took a wild chance on an engine design again.
“GM really never took a wild chance on an engine design again.”
I have two words for you: Oldsmobile Diesel. 🙂
Point made even stronger.
Cadillac V 8 6 4.
Don’t forget “V-8-6-4 Fuel Injection”. 🙂
In the early 70s a co-worker bought a 67 Sprint that looked like the red example in that ad pictured here. For a car with a 6 cylinder engine that car was quick.
I have to say, however, that I prefer the 66 Le Mans over the 67.
The OHC 6 was different and exotic enough to be shunned by buyers 50 years ago, but now those qualities make it interesting. My “dream” Pontiacs would be a 69 Le Mans hardtop (2 or 4 door? I don’t care.), or a special/custom-built 71 or 72 Firebird Espirit with an OHC 6 replacing the Chevy 6.
We build excitement.. PontiAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – sorry got
carried away! – AAAC! ?
#1. That engine block(the red one)
looks lean and mean. kind of like an upright
‘Slant’ 6.
#2. I NEEDED that baby seat in 1977 – the
year my Dad went straight at a L-R turn only –
into a tree across from the Stop. Now, faces
and math are a problem for me after I face-
planted into the dash and W/S.
#3. Eastern 727: ??? Miss u Eastern.
first airline I ever flew on. Can you imagine,
in 1980 they were flying huge L1011s on
the NY-Orlando route? 727 flew us home.
Eastern must have liked three-engine jets. My parents flew to and from their honeymoon on an Eastern L1011 (how Dad, not a “car guy” or “plane guy” remembers this is beyond me.) NY to Bermuda and back.
Chris M:
I’m only in my 40s and I’m like that too: I
remember stuff from decades ago but
my short-term is shot all to hell. LOL!
Great read, as ever. Thanks.
In 1975 This was my first car, my dads boss asked him if I wanted it for free as his son didn’t want it. it looked just like the white one in the ad. My dad said don’t put any money into it because the floors had holes in them . The o h c six was a POS, when it ran it sounded like klak, klak ,klak it needed a cam shaft which rogers pontiac replaced .after that it sounded like a chevy six which it was based on .it had the power glide transmision ,I don!t care what pontiac called it it had that distinct sound of a power glide when idling in neutral
Again, it’s NOT Powerglide, although its operation was very similar.
Probably a Super Turbine 300 without the Super (variable pitch stator).
That drives me about as nuts as clam brains calling the 153 Chevy II engine, and its industrial/marine 181 brother “IRON DUKE”
But in all honesty, was the Pontiac OHC engine itself a POS, or was the one you owned simply a worn out, eight-year-old engine that was well past its prime?
Another excellent read, thank you! Anybody who can effectively insert a reference to Holly Golightly into a discussion about transmissions is alright in my book. Once again, I eagerly await Sunday mornings!
This was an interesting story. My father worked for Flight Safety International at la guardia on the Gulfstream 1 1970- 1973 commuting from Darien CT in a 1971 Scamp.
From todays perspective, it is hard to understand why GM would saddle so many of an exciting model like an OHC 6 Tempest with a 1 barrel carb or a two speed automatic with no name. You put is in the time though that for yourself and many other people who bought the car would require simplicity and durability. The way the ohc engine came alive was just a little gravy to be occasionally enjoyed.
Because Pontiac was trying to sell cars to EVERYBODY, including the 99% of the auto market who never heard of Road & Track, much less read it. Who cared nothing about a car except for the reliability and the deal they got buying it.
We always remember Pontiac’s exciting cars. We forget that the majority of sales were of models that were just as dull as any Chevrolet, Ford, Plymouth or Dodge on the road. Just because they had a relatively exciting engine design doesn’t mean they wouldn’t put out costed-down versions that would compete with the base Stovebolt or Slant-6.
I totally agree that it was perplexing that Pontiac had gave the OHC 6 a 1 barrel carb and a two speed auto. The gears would have to be so tall so that it didn’t rev extremely high on the highway, but then it would be a slug off the line. If they had more advanced transmissions and put a much shorter gear in the rear end (along with overdrive), the OHC 6 would have been pretty competitive. Even the performance version of the OHC 6 would have been hampered by the gearing. But you have to wonder how competitive that the suits would have wanted it to be…..because it would start competing with the V8’s marketshare. It seemed like they kind of purposely wanted it to tank.
Considering that Pontiac axed the OHC 6 after a fairly short run, they probably either begrudgingly let John develop the engine, or gave him the blessing with the caveat that if it didn’t sell, that it would have a short leash. There was a fair bit of GM (and or Pontiac) that didn’t see eye to eye with DeLorean’s vision. DeLorean and GM had butted heads over the Banshee (stating that it would cut into Corvette sales), and the GTO package was created out of a loophole in corporate policy. I get the feeling that if DeLorean was working with Pontiac if they weren’t affiliated with GM, he would have been able to really develop some of the ideas that he really wanted to, but that’s probably easier said than done, considering that he had GM’s money to play with, in the first place.
“Every story has a car.” I’m really enjoying your COAL series, especially given your son is only a few years younger than I – so this is like listening to my Uncle relate his car stories. (c:
I’ve owned both a ’64 Beetle and an OHC6/2sp ’66 Tempest four-door, which have only added to my enjoyment of your writings.
I remember as a boy (in-between getting carsick in the back) riding in the then-newish Tempest which my grandparents had purchased new. Comments from the front seat (three full-grown adults therein) were peppered with statements about how smooth the engine was and how you really had to watch your speed because “you’d be doing ninety before you know it!”
The car was equipped with Wondertouch™ power brakes and steering – and I remember that wheel seemed to spin around (effortlessly!) nearly forever going between locks. Pontiac also had a cutsie name for the radio and rear-window defroster; I need to dig out my owner’s manual sometime and refresh my memory.
The car eventually passed over to my Uncle (there he is again) after my grandparents bought a ’71 Catalina (400/2bbl, auto), which would be their last Pontiac before jumping ship to Mercury. He drove it to work for a while, but even though he was a meticulous maintainer, the weak spot of the OHC reared its head (hah!) and the top end sludged up and stopped lubricating itself, which effectively bricked the engine. Before this sad event, I occasionally drove the car when mine was down for some issue or another, and the smooooooth two-speed was always interesting. When I bought my current ’15 Honda Fit, its CVT reminded me instantly of that old “not-Powerglide.”
The car then passed into my hands in return for me doing a respray of my Aunt’s ’71 Torino wagon for my Uncle. I was living with my grandmother while at Georgia Tech at this point, Grandpa having passed after my freshman year.
The SBC 350 I had bought for my Vega (and subsequently didn’t use, instead opting for a Buick 3.8L) got a rebuild and I’ll never forget the night my grandmother, then in her 70s, assisted me in the driveway in the installation of the engine into the Tempest (she ran the engine hoist) in front of a THM350. The transplant “took,” and I had a real sleeper on my hands, as I left the rest of the car in very stock condition.
I drove it for a year or so, and then was smitten by the then-new Suzuki Samurai, and sold the car to help raise a downpayment for what would be my first-ever new car purchase.
Thanks for bringing back this flood of memories about the Tempest. They say smell is the sense most closely tied to memory, and when I saw the photo of the open trunk, with the hounds-tooth liner, I got a powerful memory of that “trunk smell.”
Enjoyed the read!
The reason the transmission wasn’t called Powerglide is that it wasn’t Powerglide. It was the transmission Buick called Super Turbine 300, which was made by Hydra-Matic Division for Buick, Oldsmobile, and Pontiac; Chevrolet built Powerglide for its own use and for some export customers. The ST-300 was very similar to the aluminum-case Powerglide in operation and layout, but they weren’t identical — for one, the ST-300 doesn’t have a rear pump — and I don’t think much of anything interchanges. (The Buick and Olds versions also used a switch-pitch stator for a while, but Pontiac never did.) Why Pontiac never came up with a unique name for it I have no idea.
IIRC, the section on this transmission in my early ’70s “Motor’s” manual is titled “Buick Super Turbine 300, Oldsmobile Jetaway and Pontiac Two-Speed”.
I wonder if Pontiac’s refusal to name its automatic was from a kind of sports car snobbery – the people who wanted an automatic really did not care whether it had some kind of crazy name (not by 1966-67, anyway) and the sports car snobs who looked down on such things probably appreciated that Pontiac seemed to treat the automatic as an afterthought. Thus, they satisfied everyone.
I really do find cool that there was a transmission which must not be named.
V8-equipped Pontiacs of that era did have a named automatic transmission, the THM400.
The Pontiac OHC 6 could have been the basis of Pontiac building an “American Jaguar” – with the right transmission, gearing, and suspension – a long legged highway cruiser with good handling and a smooth engine. Something as a counterpoint to the brute force of the muscle car era.
The OHC 6 was yet another reason GM corporate must have hated Delorean. ‘American Jaguar’ was exactly where he was aiming with that engine and, if he had had his way, would have put it into a lightweight car with a better power-to-weight ratio than the Corvette. Unfortunately, he was now getting a little too close to Ed Cole’s pet. I can imagine Cole seething when he saw Delorean’s Pontiac Banshee concept car which, presumably, was where the OHC 6 would reside. It’s worth noting that once Delorean moved on to Chevrolet, the Pontiac OHC 6 was quietly cashiered.
I am not sure the Banshee with the ohc 6 or the Apollo with the aluminum Buick V8 were really impinging on Corvette. Me too fake European cars were not got going to measure up to the Corvette, which was actually unique, and uniquely American. European car fans were not going to buy American, then or now.
This was also true in the reverse as American engine Panteras and Bristol were not as revered as Ferraris and the Aston Martin with their local designed engines.
At least the aluminium Buick 215 V8 actually became a bona-fide European engine, thanks to Rover.
It must have had a stigma though. Jaguar supposedly designed the engine bay of the XJ40 XJ6 to make sure the now Rover engine would not fit.
@John: That wasn’t a reflection of a stigma about the Buick/Rover engine per se, more of a sign of Jaguar’s resentment at the erosion of its identity during the period it was owned by British Leyland.
DeLorean’s problem (in GM’s eyes) was that he was coming up with “different” solutions. And “different” invariably translated out to “more expensive” than the accounting-department-bowdlerized cheapest solutions that GM had already put into play.
They got introduced because there was a possibility that they just might take off and be more profitable than the standard solution. When the hoped-for increased profitability didn’t happen, they were quietly dropped in favor of the standard (usually Chevrolet) solution.
Well of course GM would let you do anything you like in those days as long as you could sell a million to a million and a half copies every year. Then economies of scale would kick in. 😛
Delorean was an ‘out-of-the-box’ thinker before the term had been coined. Of course, his environment with Bunkie Knudson and Pete Estes also allowed (and probably encouraged) it. None of those guys had a reputation as a GM bean-counter in the mold of, say, Roger Smith a couple decades later. IOW, they weren’t the type of GM finance leaders who became known as being ‘penny-wise, pound-foolish’ that, eventually, would nearly drive GM into bankruptcy.
Which leads me to something I’ve always wondered about. I once read that GM corporate was really pissed about Delorean’s end run around corporate rules to get the GTO into production, so much so that if the GTO hadn’t become the hit it was, Delorean would have been fired. But what about Knudson and Estes? Surely they were complicit in the GTO gambit, too. Wouldn’t they have been fired, as well? Or would they have been willing to allow Delorean take all the blame. I guess the latter since Delorean has always been known as the ‘father’ of the GTO in the same way that the Mustang is known as the brainchild of Lee Iacocca.
All things considered, Delorean, Knudson, and Estes were all at the exact right place at the exact right moment in automotive history. Unfortunately, it was only Estes who would continue on and ultimately achieve the GM holy grail.
The one who had to face the music on the GTO was Estes, not DeLorean. (Knudsen was long gone by then, running Chevrolet.) Hyperbolic later hype notwithstanding, I seriously doubt either would have been fired even if the GTO had been a flop, although the degree of its success undoubtedly factored into how loudly they were scolded for the whole thing.
The overriding consideration, I’m pretty certain, was that Estes was able to point to a significant upswing in total Pontiac sales — the GTO itself was small potatoes except as a publicity vehicle. You don’t sack managers who give you numbers like that over a minor protocol breach; at worst, you grumble at them and tell them they need to respect the chain of command.
If DeLorean’s job had been on the line over stuff like that, he wouldn’t have been picked to run Chevrolet in 1969. That was a promotion and it was a big deal for career GM execs.
The ‘minor protocol breach’ that got the GTO into production could be a good topic for automotive history debate. Prior to 1970, GM had valid safety (as well as legal) concerns about not exceeding specific power-to-weight ratios in any mainstream GM product (the Corvette was the exception) and I suspect that any exec who ignored it, no matter how high up the food chain, did so at their own peril.
Of course, that all went out the window when the biggest big-blocks were able to be had as RPOs in GM intermediates in 1970.
There were two basic protocol issues in the GTO: that the A-bodies weren’t supposed to exceed 330 cubic inches’ displacement and that new models were supposed to be approved by upper management. The rationalization for both was that the GTO package was just an option, which was nominally within Estes’ purview. So, it really came down to a “letter of the rule versus the spirit of the rule” kind of thing — which, again, is the sort of issue that gets people scolded, not fired, unless the boss is looking for a reason to fire them. If Pontiac’s sales were down and the dealers were restless and it looked like things were going badly in general, that kind of thing might be the last straw, but that wasn’t the situation.
Now, if Estes had asked for permission, been refused, and done it anyway, that would have been a different story, but of course that’s why he didn’t ask first!
“Bunkie” Knudsen did have a different story by ending as president of Ford which didn’t pleased Iacocca and didn’t pleased later Henry Ford II who according to Iaccoca’s autobiography, said Bunkie entered HF II office without knocking on his door and treated him like a simple comrade.
I wonder how GM would had been if it was “Bunkie” Knudsen who head of GM instead of Ed Cole?
Bunkie’s story is another great one. It didn’t look like he was going to get the top spot at GM, so he jumped ship to Ford. While Iacocca probably didn’t give him 100% effort, Bunkie simply couldn’t adapt from the GM-style leadership. His two biggest accomplishments were the ‘Bunkie Beak’ nose on the front of the 1970 Thunderbird (where he tried to make it look like a Pontiac) and the aircraft-carrier sized 1971 Mustang. All that, combined with his apparent lack of reverence toward Hank the Deuce, meant Bunkie didn’t last long. In fact, one of my favorite jokes is the play on Henry Ford’s famous saying, “History is bunk” to “Bunkie is history”.
Then there’s the story on how Henry Ford II couldn’t bring himself to personally fire anyone. Supposedly, someone called Bunkie at home and simply told him, “Henry said to tell you tomorrow is going to be a bad day at work…”. Bunkie then went in the next day, walking around asking random people, “Am I fired? Am I fired?”. Classic stuff.
Agreed! I wrote my post above before I had read yours here, but I do strongly agree that Delorean’s ideas were being seen as too risky, but also too revolutionary and possibly too good, in that he was really starting to alienate the corporate types that tell you to shut up and just go with the flow. It reminds me a bit of the Larry Shinoda story–incredibly talented, but his ambitions had also rubbed many people the wrong way, and no matter how great his ideas, his personality became an issue in conflicting with the other big personalities above you that you need to appease to move up the corporate ladder.
In order to hit a home run like Iacocca did with the Mustang, you have to go against the grain of popular thought. The Banshee was probably still too niche oriented to sell in as high of numbers as the Mustang (not to mention less practical with two less seats), but it’s still an incredible idea due to the design of the car, but also the idea that a performance based overhead cam 6 cylinder could provide a possible bridge in between muscle cars and European flair, in that a six cylinder didn’t have to necessarily be for mere transportation purposes. Incredible enough that the ’68 Corvette appears to have borrowed much of its front end (though Shinoda was toying with that Mako Shark design for awhile…..not sure if Shinoda influenced Delorean or the other way around), and the rear end definetely showed up on the 70’s Firebirds/ Trans Ams
Yeah, I was going to mention Shinoda but thought my comment was already long enough. In fact, Shinoda reminds me, a lot, of another brilliant but abrasive auto exec: Hal Sperlich. While Iacocca gets all the credit for the Chrysler minivan, it was really Sperlich who coordinated the project and got the package together. All Iacocca really did was oversee and approve the final product.
Much like Knudson and Shinoda, Iacocca could overlook Sperlich’s personality quirks but there was one guy who couldn’t: Henry Ford II. When Hank the Deuce finally got fed up with Sperlich (brilliant as he might otherwise be) and fired him, Iacocca knew his days at Ford were numbered, as well. Sperlich was Iacocca’s man, and when the big boss gets rid of your go-to guy, you knew you were going to be following him in short order.
Then, when Iacocca went to Chrysler, one of the first things he did was hire Sperlich, who brought with him the the minivan project he had pitched (to no avail) to Henry while at Ford.
So, there you have it. Henry Ford II got rid of not one, but two, of the brightest automotive guys in the latter half of the 20th century, simply because he didn’t like their personalities.
More like an “American Benz,” since by DeLorean’s own admission, the Pontiac engine was modeled on the 3-liter Mercedes OHC six, not the much more complex DOHC Jaguar.
Was the Toyota M-series engine also modeled on the Benz six? Someone said that on the thread about the Crown Road Test review.
That child seat is nearly comical by today’s standards. I’m sure I rode in a similar one, having been born in 1967. My parents had a Tempest at the time too, a ’65 model. We were rear-ended at an intersection on the way home from a dinner at my grandparents one rainy night. No safety seat for me that night, I’d been asleep on the back seat, and reportedly rolled off on impact. No long term injuries, but a cut on the forehead from hitting a metal seat mount or something along the floorboard. Our Tempest was replaced by a ’68 LeMans, which was a year-old hand-me-down from my paternal grandparents after the Tempest was totalled. My father actually swung a deal with the insurance company to keep the totalled Tempest, ultimately rebuilding the car and repainting it in our garage. A friend of his bought it from him for a nominal sum and drove it for several years. In family lore that Tempest is always referred to as one of the good ones.
We were rear-ended in our ’60 Biscayne when I was about five or six. My next-youngest brother and I were in the back seat (no belts, of course), and infant brother Number Three was in a carrier in the front seat next to Mom.
No. 2 and I went flying into the footwell, and I’m sure Mom did the “right arm maneuver” on No 3. Other than the initial rough-and-tumble, we were all okay. The Biscayne (which would have been pushing eight years old) fared worse, and I think it was replaced shortly after with a Rambler American.
I rode in one, and I was thinking the same thing – comical. But as I’ve noted before, people didn’t bring their children with them as much in those days.
And to think, during the relatively rare times they’re in the car or truck I put my dogs into harnesses, which are then clipped to a nylon strap, which I then clip to the ISOFIX/LATCH anchors in the rear seat area. And to be honest, that’s as much to protect me if they were to come flying toward me as I’m driving – either from the force of inertia during a crash, or their own movements.
Funny someone would bring up the dogs. Just after making the comment above I took my dog to my mother’s for a “playdate” with their border collie and decided that he’s too afflicted with ADHD to be in the car without a harness. In a 1 mile ride he managed to fall across the center console onto his ribcage and careen all over the car falling blissfully over and over. And yes, I’ll harness him for his safety, but even more so for my own sanity. Terriers don’t respond at all to, “Do I have to stop this car!?!?!!” And the right arm trick is useless, as it turns into a game.
Here are two options that I use.
The top one clips to the harness on one of the day end, and the ISOFIX/LATCH anchor in the base of the rear seat. The lower one attaches to a seat belt buckle; unfortunately, it doesn’t latch securely in all cars, and in the Mustang, my dog sometimes steps on the seatbelt release button and frees himself (this is the same dog that chewed completely through one of the ones shown on top, back when he was a hyperactive pup).
With either, I can’t emphasize enough that they must – I repeat, must be attached to a dog harness, and never to the dog’s collar. And as I said, it’s as much to protect me from a flying dog as anything else.
Thanks for the overview. I’ve already done some pre-shopping. We recently took a long weekend car trip 1000 miles each way and opted to leave the dog at home because we were rushed to leave and didn’t have time to pick up a harness and restraint system before going. Fortunately we had a free dog-sitter a mile away, but he’ll for sure need to be kept still if he’s going to have his travel horizons broadened.
I was born in 1951 and I’m sure that at some point I rode in one of those clip-on car seats. I know for a fact that my younger siblings rode in them. For the most part back then kids were simply herded into the back seat and that was considered good enough. Later on, after my dad remarried, he bought a (very) used Pontiac station wagon and the younger children often rode in back, where they were free to roll around on the floor. People from my parents’ generation were accepting of a lot more risks than people are today; I suspect the fact that most of the men had survived World War II had something to do with it. After dealing with the Wehrmacht a few bumps and bruises might seem trivial indeed.
I don’t think people were more tolerant of risk. I just think they did not know better. Safety cars were a weird futuristic oddity.
My older sister’s first serious boyfriend had a gold 66, bought used, about 1968 or 9. I remember it for having a Hurst 3-speed in the floor. I was 10 or 11 and found the combination of the OHC and Hurst shifter to be pretty exotic, and I really loved that car. The boyfriend was going through a bit of a counter-culture hippie phase, and the car ended up covered in flower-power stickers that were usually associated with Type II VWs (kids, ask your grandparents). They had a rather dramatic break-up (probably for the best) and boyfriend left town. I didn’t think much about the car again until I was with my Dad a few months later at the local Chevy dealer looking for a work truck for the family farm (bought a s**t-brown ’64 Chevy C10 I later learned to drive in). There on the lot was Jimmy’s 66 Tempest. It still had the flower stickers on each of the four dog-dishes.
“Here’s a six that acts like an eight”. Far better than “Here’s a four that acts like half an eight”.
Great article. And the pictures give plenty of opportunity to appreciate the beautiful design. The car is almost perfect from every angle.
And larger than a current Dodge Charger. It wears it’s size well.
my next door neighbor’s Dad bought a LeMans Sprint (probably a 67) to complement his wife’s 66 GTO. I did not realize at the time how completely different those two cars must have been in their personality. Both were four speeds, but they sounded completely different as they accelerated away from the driveway.
I can echo many of the other comments about a fascination with this OHC 6, child safety etc, but I won’t waste too much space. I will add that though our ’64 Volvo had 3-point (non-inertia reel) belts in front, it had none at all in back (and we had bought it new, European delivery, so they hadn’t been deleted by a previous owner). My mom finally had some added when I was already about 11 or 12 years old. This was an outstanding piece of work, weaving together personal, cultural, and automotive reminiscences in a wonderful way. A perfect companion to my Sunday morning coffee! Thank you!!
Well written, enjoyable article except for one “nagging” item: RPM = “revolutions per minute”, therefore “RPMs” is an incorrect usage. Just my little nit! 🙂
“It had a big trunk and impressive safety options such as collapsible steering column, seat belts, lane changing directional signals, 4-way hazard lights, dual circuit brake lines, and locks that kept the front seat backs from folding forward unintentionally.”
Just to clarify: All of these (with the possible exception of the 4-way flashers) were standard, not optional, equipment starting in 1967. Before that model year, lap belts had already been standard and 4-way flashers were an option, but the energy-absorbing steering column, locking seat backs on 2-doors, and the non-detent position for the turn signal stalk weren’t available at all.
[We had a total of six new 1965, ’66, and ’67 Pontiacs in our family (a family friend was a Pontiac sales manager) – including a 1967 GTO with automatic on the column and factory air.]
The parents’ 1968 Bel Air wagon had all those things plus side marker lights. They were all required by NHTSA (or whatever its predecessor agency was called) by 1968.
BelAir! They were so uptown compared to our Biscayne.Our neighbors Impala was true flash next to our car.
If an engine ever matched a car’s styling this was it, the OHC 6 just looks so natural in the engine bay with the way Pontiac did their fenders/stacked headlights in 66-67. Just an industrial design marvel IMO
Didn’t look too shabby in the Firebird’s engine bay, either (particularly if it was a convertible).
I don’t know for certain, but I think the issues with the OHC 6 is it wasn’t all that much lighter than the 326 V8, it made less horsepower and torque, and it cost just as much (if not more).
Another great point–you’re likely right on the money, and the pitfalls of not being much lighter, making less horsepower and torque, and costing as much (if not more) than a V8 is a potential Deadly Sin. The OHC 6 didn’t have the years and years of R&D of being a base transportation test mule, and Americans really weren’t used to (or liked) rev happy better breathing engines that made power higher up in the powerband, so its days were definetely numbered.
Yeah, OHC engines are a great example of an old industry adage: Americans talk horsepower, but they drive torque. In the days of cheap gas, the benefits of a rev-happy OHC six simply couldn’t compete with those of a much cheaper V8.
The only way OHC would eventually come to the fore is when their fuel economy benefits over pushrod engines became a major selling point. Suddenly, Americans could live without that low end torque if they got better fuel mileage to compensate.
I am going to be really sad when this COAL series comes to a close.
Thanks for sharing!
RLPlaut, another wonderful read. I have but two comments:
First, there’s not a bad line on that car. In terms of styling, Pontiac flat-out owned the 1960s.
Second, you’re one hell of a writer, and I hope you don’t turn to writing ad copy because I doubt I could withstand the competition. (That goes for Wm. Stopford and Brendan Saur as well.)
Well written .
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Subscribed .
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-Nate
You are right – how did any of us survive the pre-safety era? Many of course did not, as the road tolls show. In the very early 1960’s I survived many dozens of five hour drives between Brisbane and a town called Goondiwindi (tongue twister Australian Aboriginal name!), the last two hours being on what were quantly termed “unsealed roads”, in a clip on child seat just like the one in your photo. The mere thought of using one today sends shivers down the spine.
My Dad also worked for Shell back then, as an area manager in Western Queensland.
A new car was provided every year, either a Holden Special or a Ford Zepher and later Falcons. He drove thousands of miles on poorly designed mainly gravel roads in exceptionally hot weather (no AC of course!) in these three speed six cylinder cars with vague steering, average brakes and bouncy suspensions. The biggest hazard seemed to be breaking a windscreen, which nearly always happened in the middle of no where on a rainy day and involved an overnight stay at some motel while it was fixed.
He often recalled how great those days were – driving around in cars he thought got better and faster every year. The dangers apparent to us were not even a consideration back then.
I heard a Tempest with an OHC driving away at a car show once; it’s really a great-sounding engine. There’s a guy on v8buick.com who bought a 400 Firebird and swapped it out for a Cammer 6. He apparently had one once and he wanted another one, and now he’s doing all kinds of experimental work with it.
http://www.v8buick.com/showthread.php?219250-The-Break-Down-of-a-69-Pontiac-OHC-inline-six&highlight=
“The house didn’t solve our relationship issues. If anything, the constant tasks the house demanded of us made those issues worse. Annie and I continued to grow apart with little Chris in the middle. The more we dove into our respective worlds, the worse it became.”
Perhaps that house CAUSED them! You mentioned
the anti-termite solution used in those days, which
contained Chlordane. That, on top of dental fillings
containing 50% mercury, and paint containing lead,
the lead in car exhaust, plus more than 50% of the
adult American population smoked! All of these
things combined, in various proportions, not only
contributed to chronic illnesses, but have been linked
to changes in our psychological makeup and how
we behave and react to each other in situations
involving conflict or resolution of differences.
When I wax nostalgically about the “good ole days”,
this episode gives me pause.
And marriages never break up any more nowadays, thanks to the removal of these toxins.
Back in my high school days, my young Latin (yes, Latin!) teacher, Miss Winter (who I had a huge crush on), had a pale yellow ’67 LeMans convertible with the OHC that she let me drive to pick up some needed supplies for our annual end-of-school year Latin Banquet (togas & all). Compared to my wheezing, rusty, oil-burning ’57 Chevy 6 cylinder, 3-on-the-tree 4-door sedan, that dropped-top drive was awesome and one I will always remember!
I was debating about responding to this article, mostly because of the waves of nostalgia it brings. I seem to think my comment should be as long as a book, but, anyway here goes.
This was my first new car. I interned for a company in the summer of 1966 after my junior year of college, and they promised me a job after graduation. During the school year 1966 a college classmate got a 1966 Tempest Sprint (3-speed w/Hurst floor shifter) and I knew I had to have one. Having been promised the job, I felt confident in ordering a car for spring, 1967 delivery.
In June, 1967, with new wife and new job we took delivery of new car. It was a Tempest Custom Convertible with the Sprint package. About the only options were the 4-speed, power steering and the AM radio. Color Burgundy, black top, black vinyl interior. Some years ago I discovered that the total production of 1967 Tempest Convertibles w/Sprint package was somewhere in the 2000’s.
I was really spooked the first day we had it….while we were apartment hunting it failed to start with a dead battery. Alternator infant mortality. That proved to be the only problem worth mentioning in the 5 years we had the car. The plastic rear window got cloudy after a few months, but was replaced under warranty and never got cloudy again.
The car was everything I expected it to be…reasonably fast, good handling, decent fuel economy and quiet (for a convertible). It did not exhibit too much body flex and shake, which I suppose was due to the BOF construction. The exhaust note was magic.
In 1970 our firstborn came home from the hospital in that car (see infant seat pic above). Somehow we all survived.
During the winter of 1967-1968 I treated the Tempest to a set of studded snow tires. A few days later we got several inches of snow, and it got very cold and windy. I spent the evening trying to get the car stuck by busting through all the snow drifts I could find. Never got stuck. Next morning went to the apartment parking lot to go to work and the car started right up, but was running really shitty. Missing, wouldn’t take any throttle, what’s up? I opened the hood and found snow packed from fender well to engine on both sides and from firewall to radiator. Took an hour to poke the snow out and get going.
Many more memories. After nearly 50 years I still have the wife, but the Sprint is gone. In 1972 I fell in love with the Mercury Montego, plus a co-worker was bugging me to sell him the Sprint. Deals were done.
I still dream about that car.
This has to be one of the best-looking American cars of the 60’s–as others have noted, really not a bad line anywhere. One heck of a design job.
And one heck of a story! Really loving your COAL series–you really are an excellent writer. It’s more than about the cars; in many ways a re-telling of a life well lived. I eagerly await the next installment!
looking at the engine photo, what is the tall cylindrical object on the right rear side? Perhaps the oil filler? Doesn’t look like a cap on top.
It is the oil fill tube; perhaps the cap is something non-standard. In other pictures I’ve seen of the OHC6 the cap is the same color as the tube, sort of an aluminum color.
Got a 1967 DeLorean OHC6 in 1987 or so. I would like to have teh engie rebuilt this coming winter of 2017-18.
Any Suggestions? Does and or Don’ts ect.
Any shops you care to suggest or advise me to stay away from?
I am from the east cost but will possibly be willing to haul the block off to a reputal place if absoultly need to.
Thanks for a very enjoyable read! 1111 Stewart Avenue, Bethpage caught my attention, I retired from Cablevision in 2011. Spent a bit of time there.
The first car that I recall wearing seat belts in was in our new ’64 Pontiac Tempest wagon. It was a couple of years after we got it, I had read Unsafe at any speed, I was always a precocious reader. I remember having to dig out the belts from between the seat cushions. Years later when I drove my own cars I always used the lap belts, the separate shoulder belt was too cumbersome. I last encountered that problem in 2015, with my ’70 Mustang. I could not reach the radio, heater/defroster or windshield wiper switch with the shoulder belt attached.
We didn’t use those little baby seats when I or my brothers were infants. My Mom just carried us in her arms, or laid us down on the seat to her right side. She of course sat unbelted next to my Dad. When we were older we sat unbelted in the back seat.
At least you got a seat. My parents sat in the front seat of our 63 Chevy wagon. My older brother and sister got the back seat. My younger brothers and I got the “way back”. No seat. Just the metal sides of the cargo area to bounce off off.
This series just kept getting better and better. On with the show!
I’m not sure if it exactly applies, but there’s the old auto industry adage of “timing is everything”. Maybe if the 1961 ‘rope-drive’ Tempest had gotten the OHC 6 instead of the big Trophy 4 ‘Hay Baler’, it might have had a better chance at surviving. Who knows, a well-balanced, solid performing, early OHC 6 Tempest with a rear transaxle might even have kept the GTO from making production.
I don’t know what the fuel mileage was like or how well it would have adapted to emissions regulations, but there’s a chance the Pontiac OHC 6 could have been a winner during the dark days of the seventies when oil prices began their steady climb, too, maybe starting by going into the Nova-based 1971 Ventura. Of course, not long after, GM bought back the old Buick V6 from AMC, which was a much better fit into small cars.
While I don’t feel old, I must be at least sort of, old enough lets say.
1. Yes, I remember my mother once throwing her arm out in front of me in a sudden stop. Of course I was 14 or 15 by then and bigger and stronger than her, and wearing a seat belt (as well as having a teenagers attitude) so I gave her a hard time about it.
2. I’m not sure I did ride in one of those “over the backrest” childseats. I’m not sure they were out. I do recall riding in back a lot and in those rare moments up front being given strict instructions not to stand up, where I could see. Which I of course understand now.
3. We never had a wagon, but a few friends did and it was always a treat to ride all the way in back and slide around. It was fun. Same with pickups. As late as ’72 I recall one time taking the neighborhood to a LA Dodgers ball game. My roommate had promised them but his 64 Fairlane’s driveshaft hit the frame with the load of kids. So my 57 Bug and I got roped into transport duty. Back seat folded down with 5 kids crawling all over each other like a bunch of puppies, all having a great time. And all very illegal now, I’d probably get years in prison now for transporting 5 kids in a car with out seat belts.