(first posted 11/9/2012. Some of you might have missed my father’s one brief period of ownership with a truly awesome car) Fathers can be hard to figure out sometimes, and none more so than mine. Now you might be willing to argue that point, but those who knew my father likely wouldn’t. He was a farrago of contradictions, particularly when it came to cars. He could explain the thermodynamic processes of an internal combustion engine with detailed formulas, and rattle off the chemical composition of gasoline. But that didn’t keep him from putting premium gasoline in his slant-six Dodge Dart or being unable to figure out how to open the hood, much less how to check the oil. He had very strong opinions, even when they flew in the face of common sense. Which (sort of) explains how he came to own a limited-production, 375 hp, high-performance 390 cubic inch 1961 Starliner with a four-speed transmission. Of course, I played a little role in that too…
In Austria, my father had taken the very comprehensive mandatory preparation course for a driver’s license but never actually got his license or bought a car there. After we had arrived in Iowa City from Austria in 1960, he bought an elderly 1954 Ford Mainline V8 sedan equipped with the Fordomatic transmission. As it was for so many other immigrants,”Ford” and “V8” were synonymous with the best of what America had to offer. Well into the ’70s, European, and especially Asian immigrants still strongly preferred Fords for that reason. Henry’s legacy was long-lasting, especially overseas.
But having been trained on a four-speed stick while in Austria–and priding himself on having mastered it (in his mind)–he never was happy with the Fordomatic. That seemed especially true in spring 1961, when it finally came time to look for a new car. “Vy don’t American cars come wizz a four-speed stick shift?” But Pop, they do! You can get a four-speed 1961 Chevy! “A Chevrolet? Nein! Out of the question; I vant a four-speed Ford V8!”
In those days I practically lived at the car dealerships on Saturdays. One April day I was sitting at a salesman’s empty desk, reading brochures, when I came across a one-page notice from Ford to the dealer announcing the limited availability of the T-10 four-speed. I asked the salesman if it was really so, because my father wanted a four-speed V8 Ford. “Well, if your dad wants one, I can get one for him. But he’d better want one really bad.” He had a funny smile on his face as he said that.
I rushed home with the news, which naturally made Pops very excited. “Holy mackerel, Paul; if you’re right, and I can get a four-speed V8 Ford, I vill buy it for sure. You can bet on it!” It was too late to go back that day, so all weekend long he talked about having to have one. And so right after work on Monday, he and I hopped into the old ’54 and drove downtown to the Ford dealer.
My father had looked at the ’61 Fords before, and what he was envisioning when we showed up was a stripper four-door sedan, in black, with the dull 292 Y-block backed by the suddenly magically-available four-speed. He confidently strode up to a salesman and announced, “I vill buy a black Ford V8 four-speed today!”
Some of my father’s qualities were inherently contradictory; one of them was cheapness punctuated by rare moments of extravagance. You just never knew which way that wind was going to blow. He’d talk about thrift and saving and begrudge you your 25¢ allowance, and the next day hand you a five-dollar bill and insist that you take your friends to go see a movie, have pizza and play mini-golf. What’s more, he also maintained a decidedly stubborn sort of pride, especially once he had committed himself to something.
All this quickly came to the fore when he learned that the only model in which the four-speed was available was the top-of-the-line Starliner hardtop. “Vatt is this Shtarliner?” I could see my father’s lips twitching nervously. “OK, OK–but I don’t vant the fancy wheel covers like in the brochure here.”
And then the salesman explained that the only engine with which the four-speed could be had was the Thunderbird Super V8, a limited-production version of the brand-new 390 cubic inch FE V8. Rated at a whopping 375 hp @6000(!) rpm, and 427 ft.lbs of torque @3400 rpm, it featured a solid-lifter cam, big valve heads, aluminum high-riser intake manifold topped by a massive Holley four barrel and cast-iron exhaust headers.
The salesman proudly informed him that Car Craft magazine had just tested one and proclaimed it the hottest street engine of 1961 after getting one down the 1/4 mile in 13.24 @107.18 mph; well, at least one with the dealer-installed triple two-barrel intake setup rated at 401 hp. The four-barrel might run just a tad slower, the salesman said apologetically. My father looked at him in confusion, and then looked at me accusingly.
And then the salesman showed us some clippings of Freddy Lorenzen’s ’61 Ford with the very same 375-horse engine that was tearing up the NASCAR strips in the South.
He explained how the Thunderbird Super 390 was replete with forged and high-strength parts that enabled it to sustain such stresses. Somehow, that spoke to my father in a rather abstract way: “Ja, Ja; a very strong motor”. He was trying hard to rationalize the corner into which he’d painted himself.
But one final bit of information almost pushed him over the edge: The four-speed transmission would arrive in the trunk, and the dealer would have to swap out the standard three-speed in order to install it. “Vat is this? How can this be? Ford invented the assembly line, no?”
In the end he was too deeply committed, and I couldn’t believe how it all had transpired. It was something beyond my imagination: My father actually buying the hottest car of 1961? He drove like a nun–well, more like a tipsy nun. I was torn by alternating waves of excitement and dread. How would all this play out? If only I had a different father…
On a sunny Saturday morning four weeks later, we went to pick up the shiny black Starliner. The engine made wonderful noises from beneath the long, black hood, courtesy of that solid lifter cam, the low-restriction air cleaner, and the dual exhausts: rumpety-rumpety-rumpety…
Granted, twenty years earlier my father had taken driving lessons in a stick-shift car, specifically a 25-hp VW that one had to give plenty of gas before letting out the clutch. Well, that’s exactly what my father did now for our initial takeoff, and the results were highly memorable. He left a smoldering, half-block-long layer of rubber before he got his terror enough under control to back off. And then came second gear…and more rubber. My ham-footed father simply couldn’t get used to feathering the throttle and clutch for a proper take-off, and so became the terror of Iowa City that summer.
Riding with him was a potent blend of terror, embarrassment and headiness unlike anything I had ever experienced as a kid. Not only did he pop the clutch endlessly (and with predictable results– he wore out the first set of those little 14″ tires by July), but he also stuck to the admonition he had learned about not lugging the engine and keeping the revs up on an air-cooled VW. Thus, he roared about town in first gear to avoid any more shifts than were necessary. You could hear him coming from a half-mile. Or more, if he was having an off day.
His driving technique did impress the young local hot-rodders, and word quickly spread around that my father had the hottest car in the county, if not the whole state. Soon, all manner of hot cars started circling our house on Holt Avenue on Saturday nights, their drivers hoping to goad my father out of his philosophy books and into some grudge racing. No such luck. But at least I was kept busy opening the hood to show off the bad-ass 390 and four-speed. I should have charged 25¢ admission.
That year, our annual summer vacation trip to Colorado was highly memorable. The sluggish acceleration of our ’54 Ford always made passing on two-lane Hwy 6 terrifying, but now the tables had been turned. Despite being essentially a race car, the Starliner had no tachometer, so my father calculated the various maximum speeds-per-gear in his head and followed that matrix religiously. That meant downshifting into second for passing–except below 45 mph, which called for first gear (in which top speed was well over sixty). The results were paradigm-shattering, even with all six Niedermeyers and their luggage aboard. I’m not even going to try to describe the drive up Pike’s Peak; my mother just closed her eyes and prayed fervently. My sister also threw up a lot, and refused to get back inside the car after we’d reached the top.
Had my father possessed even a shred of natural driving ability, these could have been peak experiences for a kid like me. But everything was so forced, cerebral, harsh and herky-jerky, and my father’s countenance while gripping the wheel with both hands (no power steering with the Thunderbird Super 390) was a peculiar mixture of determination and horror, especially the time he passed a long line of trucks on a two lane highway at 120 mph. In the mountains. In third gear. The scream of a solid-lifter FE at redline is permanently enmeshed in my mind with the screaming of women and children. What should have been every kid’s dream was instead a nightmare. I regretted ever having told him about the four-speed Ford.
Somehow, we survived those first six months in the Starliner only slightly better than did its rear tires. Then came the fateful December day that brought the first minor snowfall of the year. We wondered about its effect as he got into the car to drive to work, and we all went to the front window to watch. The Starliner was parked out front, since he had long ago given up trying to get it into reverse. After a couple of minutes of warming up, the usual roar arose, followed by the Ford flailing around like a fish just pulled from the water.
The Starliner’s fins pointed this way, than that, and then did several one-eightys before one of the rear wheels crunched against the curb and popped a tire. My father got out, slammed the door and trudged off to the hospital, never again to set foot in that car.
Later that day, a salesman from the Ford dealership came by to put on the spare. He drove off in the Starliner, and that evening my father eased gently into the driveway in a brand new 1962 Ford Fairlane–a stripper four-door with the smallest 145 hp, 221 cube V8 and…the two-speed Fordomatic.
After that, we were not permitted to speak of the Starliner incident under the threat of great peril; it simply faded into one of the better-suppressed chapters of my family’s colorful life. But now that my father has passed on, I consider it my duty to tell my family and younger brothers and about this almost-forgotten chapter in the Niedermeyer story. Indeed, the truth must come out at last, for you all know how important to me it is to always tell the truth.
PS: My apologies to Mel Parks, the owner of this splendid and rare 1961 High-Performance Starliner, for my unorthodox write-up. He bought it in very poor condition some ten years ago, and despite its missing engine and transmission, code numbers confirmed that it was the real deal. He spent four years carefully restoring it all by himself, and even did his own repainting. The engine is fully authentic, (right down to its wonderful noises) but the four-speed is not. Only about a hundred four-speed ’61s were ever delivered, all with the T-10 in the trunk. So no, this is not my Father’s former Starliner 🙂
I saw Mel’s Starliner in front of me while on the road the other day; when he pulled into a restaurant parking lot, naturally I followed him. Thanks for the tour, Mel, and enjoy your baby. You drive it so nice and gently…
Ok, Paul, nice April Fool’s story, even if the calendar says November 9!
Now if the “not Niedermeyers” across the street in Iowa City had bought one of these, it would have been believable.
My insides hurt from laughing!!! Great write-up on a truly great car. Awesome!
What a great story, Paul! (Oder, soll ich sagen: So eine tolle Geschichte, Paul!)
The Starliner is one of the few cars on my to-see-in-person list that I haven’t quite achieved yet.
You had me going there for awhile. Beautiful car.
Is that an ignition ballast resistor on the front corner of the engine, next to the exhaust manifold?! At least Mopar ballasts are up on the firewall away from the engine heat, and in an easy location to test and change if they fail.
Really a fun story, Paul. It makes me think of my oft said maxim, “Not all drivers need 400 hp.” Still holds true today.
My father endlessly repeated the maxim that 250 hp was the most any car needed (or should have). He tended to stay at about 50% of that or less. Maybe he knew himself well enough.
I go by the formula of 100 hp for 1000 kg. Seems to have worked for any car I have driven.
Any driver who thinks he “needs” 400hp instead needs a remedial driving class.
Unless he’s driving a tractor-trailer, in which case…
Great story! You do so well at describing the wide range of emotions that are involved. I followed the link and read your father’s obitituary. He was an interesting fellow, indeed. I can imagine that there were few things in common with the type of four speed cars he was accustomed to and the Starliner. And Mel Parks has a beautiful car. Thanks!
Now that, sir, is a beautiful car!
Cars, more interesting than houses. This makes me wish I had really convinced my dad on the Supercharged LSS 15 years ago this Christmas.
….At least he didn’t get the stripper Eighty Eight.
Most drivers I see should have no more than 100hp! Sweet car, I think that car might have been at the all Ford drags and car show at Woodburn Dragstrip this past August
Man, that’s a funny story, whether the “truth” was stretched or not.
I never knew a 1961 Ford could be so beautiful…and I REALLY miss red interiors.
+1 to both of those!
+1 to any interior that is in any color other than monotonous, dull, and bland black, grey, or tan.
Wow, amazing story. I think our dads are cut from the same cloth – except when it comes to autos. He puts too many miles on his car to buy a new one, so he won’t be buying a 2013 Taurus SHO in the future. But your story resonates with me to no end. Plus, its a beautiful car.
Nice car and great story.Thanks for another great read.
Has a very similar ring to Jay Leno’s story about the 7 Liter Galaxy he tricked his father into buying.
For better or worse my father was a car guy and always drove something “hot”, so there was always performance cars in the driveway.
It did ruin my chance to buy a beautiful 87 Grand National when I was 17 because Dad knew it was too fast for me…Sometimes I wished he was less knowledgable about cars when I was growing up.
Paul, it’s a good thing my office door closes, so I can laugh out loud as I read these. You really had me going, up through the 120 mph. truck pass. I hope somewhere your Dad is appreciating your unique talent. I wonder-an encephalographer would need excellent visual-spatial imaging skills-is that where some of your carpentry/visual storytelling skills come from? Thanks for making our Friday!
I see the ghost of Jean Shepherd grinning through your story, Paul. Just wonderful.
The biggest car event of my car-crazy childhood was the arrival of our black ’61 Sunliner convertible. Black and white interior (should’ve been red like these), the 2-barrel “Thunderbird 352 Special V-8” with dual exhaust, “Cruise-O-Matic” and “Equa-Lock” rear end. I went absolutely wild. Those brochure shots tickle deep memories, I devoured them.
Not just from childhood enthusiasm, to me the ’61 is the cleanest, most elegant of all the turbo-taillight Fords. Long straight lines across rounded shapes, minimal chrome. Simple star grids in the grille, echoed across the back, and in the Starliner’s four-pointed stars. These great photos bring all that out. Nice.
I agree with you on the looks of the 61 – IF you chose carefully. The featured Starliner and your family’s ragtop are beautiful and elegant cars. Unfortunately, most of the 61 Fords I saw as a kid were dull and faded dark blue strippo Fairlane sedans with the awkward, ungainly roofline, and those were just not that attractive.
These cars also feature my favorite door handles ever, where the handle is integral with the metal trim that edged the fin.
Agree with you about it having to be the right ’61. And I’m kicking myself for not getting a close-up of the door handle, very much like the T-Bird’s of the time.
The front end of of the ’61 is a bit weak, and looks like it belongs on a dull sedan; the ’63 is much better and conveys a more dynamic quality.
Agreed, the sedans were way too plain. Like this one…anybody recognize who it belonged to?
Andy Taylor!
Amazing how Mayberry could afford to buy him a new Police Interceptor every year from 1960 to 1967…
I really liked the 61 Ford, no matter what model. The restoration of the conservative but “corporate” Ford look after the ill-advised aping of Chevrolet in 1960 was such a relief. The door handles integrated with the side trim, the big round taillights and hint of fins, the wide, handsome grille, and simple side styling without much sculpting or adornment, all good.
My aunt and uncle were a bit like Paul’s Dad, swinging back and forth from extravagance to frugality, especially in buying cars. Thus they traded in a heavily optioned but tired 55 Oldsmobile four-door hardtop they bought new for a new 61 Ford Custom two-door sedan with a radio, six, and three-on-the-tree – in that seafoam green mentioned here (the 61 was later traded for a snazzy new 66 LTD two-door hardtop and they bought LTDs from then on). I still liked their 61 because it was such a handsome, well-styled car.
Starliners were really rare in the middle west; I remember seeing very few when new, nearly always in red or black, and later on the few survivors were real beaters due to hard use. One of the great ones.
It does indeed have overtones of Jean Shepherd — high praise, I think. A very entertaining piece.
OK, I’m a little confused…………did your father own one (not this example) or is the whole story an early April Fools joke?
We were a big family, with eight children……all car junkies. Our driveway looked like a used car lot at times. My brother in 1969 had a used 61 Fairlane 500 4 door, green (Mint Green I think, see wagon illustration below) 390 4V w/ 3 on the three. Even the 300HP version was pretty stout!
Really cool brochure btw! Nice combination of photos, cut-a-ways, and illustrations
http://www.oldcarbrochures.com/static/NA/Ford/1961_Ford/1961_Fords_Prestige_Brochure/1961%20Fords%20Prestige-17.html
A fabulous read, Paul. Although I was not sure if you were pulling our legs or not, I was still wiping tears from my eyes from laughing for a full 10 minutes after reading the piece. The buildup to the (attempted) take off after the first snow was masterful.
Your story answered the question that has lingered in the back of my mind for so long – just what was the attraction to Ford V8s that Herr Niedermeyer seemed to harbor during his early years in this country. Now I get it.
I will never be able to look at a 61 Ford (or even a 62 Fairlane) the same way again!
Endless possibilities
Hilarious! Somehow I get the feeling that if this had actually happened you wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge to joyride it… and that the combination of determined eight-year-old and 400+ HP might have precluded my eventual existence.
But hey, at least you ended up with a four-speed Ford… and with the same Hurst shifter as that gorgeous Starliner.
Umm; three speed, actually…but more, if you add the overdrive gears.
Great story, and it reminds me of the difference between my two Grandfathers:
My dear paternal Grandfather was a very mild man from Holland who learned to drive a car in Canada when he was 42. He always drove with two white knuckled hands on the wheel, so Grandma had to work the heater controls. He rarely exceeded 40mph and had me drive home on the 401 from a family visit when I was 16. His first brand new car was a 1971 Toyota Corona, like this but yellow. I’ve never seen another.
My maternal Grandfather learned to drive in a Model A at 22, also in Holland, and he had a much better grasp of the whole driving thing. In his later years he favored Oldsmobiles with large V8s for pulling trailers. My favorite was a 65 or 66 and was probably equipped with the 425. I only rode in that car once and remember being quite terrified at the acceleration.
So if my one Grandfather had borrowed the other’s car, what would have ensued would have been exactly as you described, Paul.
Cheers.
As Paul’s younger brother by 5 years, I was indeed too young to remember much of anything of 1961. However, every atribute and mannerism Paul ascribed to our dear father is true. Associating events that I can recall, such as the trip up Pikes Peak or any of the trips to Colorado, and applying them to a 390 ci Starliner in our father’s hands would most likely lead to years of therapy to deal with repressed fears.
I do recall the same nightmare unfolding as Pop, after some period of indecision, would pull out into the oncoming lane to pass that line of trucks in the stripper Fairlane with the family of six and enough luggage for several weeks in the mountains. We could have used a few extra ponies under the hood during those frightful times. (*shutter*)
Later in life I managed to avoid Pop’s driving despite living in the same town. Then on the occassion of our youngest brother’s wedding, I caught a ride with Mom and Pop a day earlier for the rehearsal. The two hour drive up I-95 to the Philadelphia area was going fine until we came up on our exit and he suddenly became indecisive about it being the correct exit. Familiar fears washed over me as he whipped the steering wheel back and forth as the car pointed to the exit ramp one moment and back towards the traffic lane the next, all while stomping on one peddle or the other as his mind raced back and forth.
The ensuing voices filled with fright from both Mom and I raised every suppressed memory of trips of yore with Pop. When we got to the top of the exit ramp, I insisted on driving the rest of the way. There was no other way I could be in the car. And so it was ever since.
Paul’s story may well be true.
What’s certainly true is that he was one of the worst drivers ever. And he had an uncanny ability to instill fear and insecurity in his passengers even beyond his actual technique. One just had sit in the back seat and look out the side window, otherwise it was almost unbearable. Someone was looking over him all those decades on the road.
“But everything was so forced, cerebral, harsh and herky-jerky…”
What a great story, Paul. And I am thinking of four friends in particular – none of them my parents, fortunately – who drive exactly how you describe. As with your Dad, they are all intelligent people for whom handling wheel and pedals in real time just…does not compute.
I visited with a 390 4-speed recently, in a ’64 Mercury Monterey Park Lane of all places. One of many write-ups I feel like I owe you folks.
Any information on the quite rare big Ford with the 4-speed linkage on the column?
Here’s a link: http://www.mre-books.com/sa25/sa25_5.html
The new Thunderbird Super 390 (375 or 401 hp form, depending on whether it had a four-barrel or three-two barrels) was probably the most powerful engine in 1961 of the low-priced sector. It would have spanked the Chevy 348 except that the Ford was a bigger and heavier car. And it was very competitive with the Pontiac 389. The Fords won a number NASCAR and drag racing events that year. It’s the reason Chevy rushed out the 409 for a late intro in 1961.
But it was also hampered by the lack of a four-speed, which had been available on Chevys. So starting in the spring of 1961, the Ford could be ordered with a T-10 four speed, but it arrived in the trunk, and the dealer had to swap out the three-speed for it. Only some 100 of the four-speed cars were ever sold, obviously for serious racers.
The 390 Thunderbird Super was a precursor to the 406 and and 427. It had a special block with additional ribbing. What Ford learned from racing the 390, it applied to the 406 and 427, which also had cross-drilled mains and other unique characteristics.
Here’s another link: http://www.mre-books.com/interchange/interchange11.html
Paul, reading that article reminded me of my father. Our family emigrated to the US @ the same time as yours from Poland (our families were once subjects of the same Empire*). My father only owned 2 cars in his life, a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda hardtop w/the 318 cu. in. engine & a 1973 Ford T-Bird w/the 460 cu. in. engine. His driving abilities were rather interesting to watch & experience. I think our fathers shared the same quality of stubborness & I think my father would have driven the ’61 Ford the very same way.
*My father loved Strauss waltzes & watched New Year’s Eve in Vienna every year.
My father’s family too. It was a huge empire…
Great story. Laughed a lot. Thanks
I’ve thought of many Ford’s as “handsome” but this one inspires full on lust! 😛
Paul, the only thing solid about your story is the lifters inside that 390. As an advertising copywriter–and thus no stranger to fiction–I found this a delightful read from start to finish. Hell, if they can put a Janitor in a Drum, why not a Tranny in a Trunk?
As the first fresh-from-the-dealership car to get an entire family and their luggage to the top of Pike’s Peak and back down again, I nominate this as our 1961 CCOTY.
You do know that the tranny in the trunk part really was true? Stranger than fiction…
Oh, that’s just all kinds of wrong. Was this before the days of factory warranties? If there was one, certainly the tranny swap would have either voided it or triggered a huge disclaimer.
It was a dealer-installed option, which was pretty common in those days. Lots of A/C units, radios, and other options were installed by the dealer, and with full warranty.
The T-10 came in the trunk, and it included the dealer swap-out in the price. Presumably, the dealer would send back the three-speed; or? Like I said, only about 100 of these cars ever were ordered and shipped that way, probably all destined for the hands of racers, part-time or full-time.
Ford seemed to like that sort of “option list” for items it didn’t think would sell much or make much money on.
I remember the Maverick had a similar power-steering kit…it didn’t get factory power-steering until 1972. Ford seems to thrive on chaos…in Henry’s day; in the 1950s; in Hank The Deuce’s times of pot-shots at executives.
“Vat is this? How can this be? Ford invented the assembly line, no?” Priceless.
Great story, with a lot of resonance for many of us I’m sure. I have a feeling there’s a book in you somewhere 🙂
Yes, a collection of short stories like this one….. We all love to think of more ways for you to spend your time, Paul!
Reading this post made me miss my Dad more than ever. He passed away in 2005 at the age of 85, and every day I consciously miss him. Anyhow, I commented before on my Dad’s cars as I grew up, 59 and 64 Biscayne 2 doors, and a 72 Polara 2 dr HT when I was in the service.
Dad drove all of his cars very gracefully. His 3 on the tree shifting was the smoothest possible, and when he got the Polara, the automatic was even smoother. Driving a car was a ritual with him, smooth acceleration and braking, along with graceful turning and parking.
He drove every car I ever owned in the same fashion, only much slower in his later years. No speeding for Dad, speed limits were posted for a reason.
My Dad was a great guy in every way. I was indeed blessed with a wonderful father.
Dave…beautiful post. Thank you.
That’s the type of man I always strived to be like. It never happened but I still try anyway 🙂
The apple does not fall far from the tree you know. Thanks so much for sharing that.
I read the obit for Dr. Niedermeyer (which I encourage all of you to do), and I am very impressed with the life he lived. Do they still make men like Ernst Niedermeyer? Wonderful name, BTW. Isn’t “Ernst” the German word for “serious” or “earnest?” Anyway, the Starliner story really brings him to life.
True or not, that was hilarious! My wife was trying to figure out what I was laughing at.
Thanks, Paul. I needed that!
And, that is one *beautiful* old Ford.
Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, car.
One of the best reads on here by far, thanks. I miss my dad.
Great story. Dad had a 61 Ford but not nearly as sharp as that one. Had a 352 I think and an automatic. Pretty fast but it was the type car you couldn’t have if you were fickle. Couldn’t wear it out.
My dad also had a ’61, only it was a stripper Fairlane 4-door, white with blue (vinyl/nylon) burlap interior, Sof-Tred, Carpet-Textured Rubber Floor Covering (quoting the brochure), Mileage Maker Six, three-on-the-tree, radio, and heater.
Just a few weeks after Dad bought it, we (my parents, two cousins and I) took a road trip from south Jersey to southern California to visit one of my mom’s aunts. At the time the Interstate system was but a dream, and except for isolated segments here and there the limited-access highways pretty much ended at Chicago until we got to the freeways of Los Angeles. I guess Dad was pretty conservative in passing on the two-lanes with a car weighing close to 3800 pounds plus two adults, three kids, and plenty of luggage, powered by 135 gross hp, because I don’t remember any terrified screams coming from Mom. At the age of 7, I was just excited to find out there was a world outside of south Jersey and the Pennsylvania Dutch country where Mom’s relatives lived.
As the years went on, Dad loosened up and made his peace with automatic transmissions, power steering and windows, and air conditioning. I suppose he had a hot-rodder hidden deep inside, because years later when I was working and would drive back for Christmas with a Mustang GT or similar car, he’d always ask if he could drive it around a while. I suppose he just wanted to prove to himself that he could still drive a car with a stick, but I like to imagine him leaving a little rubber on the road.
Thanks, Paul, for a wonderful remembrance, even if it wasn’t strictly true.
Sigh. We had to live with a ’62 Rambler. I guess Czechs are thriftier than Austrians!
Lovely story, even if not completely true. I think I’ve read enough on CC to know the description of your dads reason to buy a 390 Starliner are very exact, except for the price of the car…and offcourse the excessive horsepower 😛
My dad does not resemble your dad very much at all, except he would never spend much money on a car. The first time he ever loaned money for a car, it was an 11 year old (euro) Granada 3.0GL manual (138 hp essex v6) And he could drive it properly 😉 Just like he drove the old Taunus v4’s and Ecort 1300 for what they were worth, mostly if my mom was not in the car 🙂 He calmed down in his late-20’s though. There are stories where I come from, about him passing some friends of him who had given up on a gravel road up a mountain, with their Mitusbishi Pajero 4×4. At that time he had an mk1 Escort 1300… wagon, rwd, open differential….But somehow he just grew tired of cars in the end, and has only driven motorbikes the last 18 years 🙂
The 1961 Starliners were by far the best looking ’61 Fords. The featured car is a amazing example, nice to see it on the street still being enjoyed.
Is that car craft quoted 1/4 mile time accurate? I don’t remember these cars being that quick (at least in stock form). I pulled out a few old articles I have, and I couldn’t find one for the 401 hp 390, but I did find one for the 1962 405 hp 406 with a 4-speed. Motor Trend got a 15.6 sec @ 92 mph with a 3.50 gearset. I also found a Car Life test of a 1963 Ford NASCAR with a 427, 4-speed and 3.50 gears that ran 14.2 sec @ 102 MPH (top speed of 155 MPH!), but this of course was a race car.
I can’t find the link right now on this laptop, but that was with a drag-prepped car, probably with a very high (numerical) axle, and open headers. More to show what it was capable of in the hands of stock-class draggers than that of a true street car. I was trying to make a point…
That’s what I figured, especially being Car Craft. No doubt it was fast even in stock form, especially compared to a typical 292 or 352 V8. I was just surprised that it ran that fast, even today that is a quick time. People often seem to be remember cars from the this era as being faster than they actually were.
If you do find the link, please share though…
Here: http://chrysler300country.com/1961_ford_390_biography.htm
Thanks for the link. Good info.
I’ve often thought about when the affordable drag racing fun of the fifties turned into the expensive mess it is today. A high school kid with a flathead ford could have fun at the strip. Even in 61 there were classes for everyone. In the sixties you could still run a 20 second vw in it’s class but something had sure changed. This time frame is as good a candidate as any. I certainly could not have afforded a new ford.
One of my classmates did. It had the hot 352. The rest of us hated him but it was just his turn. Prior to that the most hated kid had a 58 impala with the 348. Before that it was a plethora of 57’s and one 54 Ford with a 312 swap.
Speed costs. How fast do you want to go. Me, I think I will watch from my rocker.
You can still have fun at the right event without spending a fortune. Apart from seeing things like a Nissan Patrol run a 20-sec pass at an off-street meet, at a club day I’ve been to there were dial-in races where you nominate your time, there is a handicap start and the fastest car that does not break out (go under the nominated time) wins. So you can have a 16-sec car beat a 13-sec car if the driver is more consistent. We split cars at over/under 14 sec though, to put a limit on the speed differential.
Thanks for another fantastic article Paul – brought up some great memories of my own father, but the ‘statute of limitations’ has not expired on those yet (ie. he is still alive), and I hope it does not do so for many years yet.
This has to be one of the all-time best CC articles. I read it on my phone last night while I was working, sitting in my car on some desolate stretch of rural road waiting for a tree crew to come hack up an enormous felled Maple that had got into a fight with some power lines, and won. It was freezing cold and my only company was an annoying local talk radio station, the even more annoying rotating amber beacon atop my car and this article, which had me laughing out loud and feeling not so cold after all.
I couldn’t tell whether or not I was reading a true recollection or not, until I got to this line:
“Vat is this? How can this be? Ford invented the assembly line, no?”
Something about that just really set me off and summed up the entire piece very nicely. Even though it didn’t actually happen, it’s easy to see that this probably WOULD have happened if the cast of characters in this story had ended up in such a scenario. Really a beautiful, and unorthodox, remembrance. I read the obituary and was amazed by Paul’s father’s story and achievements, but I felt like I had known him for 20 years after I read this.
I first stumbled across this website because of the subject matter, but the quality and depth of the writing staff here is what keeps me coming back on a daily basis – none of them better than Mr. Niedermeyer himself. I would submit this article as primary evidence to that fact. Very nicely done, sir. I’m sure your pop would be proud.
Oh, and the car!
Here’s how I feel about Ford: historically, most of the stuff they make is horribly bland and disposable. I’ve never been a big fan of the Blue Oval in general and never will be… but when they get something “right”, they get it so unbelievably RIGHT that it’s painful. This is one of those cars and one of the most “right” ones they ever did. In fact, I love all of the ’61 Fords, or ’61-’64 Fords rather, with ’61 and ’63 being the best of the bunch. Out of those, there is nothing I’d want more than this one right here. They also should have gone back to Henry’s “You can have it in any color…” scheme for those years, because it’s a crime to have one of these in anything but beautiful BLACK. Every single thing about this car is perfect, I really don’t know what else to say!
Those of you who like the design of this year Ford have very good taste. This particular year for Ford was highly regarded. I can not remember the name of the industrial award, but this car was awarded first place in a well known Italian design competition, even “beating” Ferrari.
All I could think about was that day in 1961 when my father came home with the new family hauler. Yep, a 61 Ford. Only problem was that it was the rock bottom entry level stripper 4 door sedan with the Ford-O-Matic as the only “luxury” in deference to my mother who was planning to get a driver’s licence. I spent 3 horrible years in that back seat constantly throwing up from car sickness and having waffle burns on my thighs from the mandatory Fingerhut clear plastic seat covers because of my propensity to need to spontaneously vomit. Of course, my father’s driving could never have been the cause of it.
Paul – your Dad’s obit was quite remarkable. What a tremendous journey he’s had.
My dad’s been gone nearly 20 years….what I wouldn’t give for a beer and a brat with him with a Yankee game on, arguing about politics. Even with his miss-matched immigrant plaid & stripes wardrobe.
“It was something beyond my imagination: My father actually buying the hottest car of 1961?”
Apparently it was NOT beyond your imagination, Paul, as you imagined it very convincingly in this story. So convincingly that it wasn’t until you started stressing “how important it is to always tell the truth” that I started to doubt the veracity of it all. Although I had been wondering to myself, “An egghead professor type from Austria with no interest in cars bought one of these ultra-rare monsters? Really? And Paul’s only getting around to telling us about it now?” a couple of times earlier during this highly amusing “shaggy dad story” of yours.
A really nice little piece of light fiction. Take out some of the gearhead minutiae and it could be something by James Thurber or other distinguished humorist. And although I’m more of a GM guy, the CC in question here is seriously bitchin’ for a Ford of that era.
My own father drove for the last 12 years of his life a ’59 Olds Dynamic 88, black with grey interior, and what I believe was a 394 under the hood. Although it was the four-door sedan, my ultra-conservative, ultra-stingy Scots-Presbyterian dad did at least spring for the chromed B-pillars and the full-size wheel covers. Or maybe that was just the one on the lot when he plunked down the four grand cash (Scotsmen don’t do financing). It also had a speedo by Technicolor: an entertaining horizontal ribbon that (IIRC) ran green up to 30 mph; blue from 30 to 60, and red from 60 to 120.
I’m aware that Paul has declared that year’s Olds an unremarkable design — and in the history of the autombile it probably was — both dad and I loved that thing. Although I was very young, I remember him taking it up to over 100 mph on the New York State Thruway as we rushed to get to the 1964 World’s Fair. He might well have taken it higher still if that Thruway’s quarter-gobbling toll booths weren’t spaced only a couple of miles apart 🙂
Although an insurance man, a solid citizen in a narrow-brimmed hat, and certainly no hot-rodder, he was a competent driver and could peel out when the occasion warranted. When side-by-side at the lights with some young Brylcreemer in a jalopy, my dad also liked to surreptitiously drop the Dynamic’s three-speed auto tranny shifter down into “Super” (as the Low gear was called on this model) and stomp on it. Don’t thinkn my mother enjoyed this too much, but I of course thought it was the great thing that ever happened.
Dad’s long gone now, and sadly so is the Dynamic 88. It was intended to be passed along to me when I was old enough to drive. But between my father’s passing and my turning 16, tragedy struck. Around 1972, a couple of strangers in a brown version of the same car rang our doorbell and asked about the black one that had been sitting immobile on our lawn for a while. They were interested in it as a parts car. My mother, a dear woman but occasionally prone to boneheaded decisions, warned them “It doesn’t run,” and therefore let this piece of machinery AND family history, go for an infuriating $35. No, there are no missing zeroes in that figure, and it is not a typo: THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS.
Knowing my dad’s maniacal fastidiousness where the Dynamic 88 was concerned — actually, knowing my dad’s maniacal fastidiousness where ANYTHING was concerned — I am convinced the only reason that car “didn’t run” was a dead battery. I’m also convinced that when the new owners got “my” Oldsmobile home, they quickly realized that this new black one was way better than their old brown one; and that THEIR Olds was now the “parts car.”
Like I said: infuriating. How much more popular in high school I would have been with that car. Instead I learned to drive on my mother’s replacement vehicle, a lightly-used ’67 Dart slant-six two-door hardtop — a nice enough car in its own right, and one that better fit my mother’s small size (at 5’1″, she’d had trouble seeing over the steering wheel on the 18-foot Olds), but far less desirable to me as a teenager. Or now, for that matter.
Not as desirable as a ’61 Starliner with four-on-the-floor, perhaps, but desirable enough that I still, uh, desire one. And still drop 12 bucks for things like the August 2009 edition of Collectible Automobile for the feature “Upper-Medium-Priced Cars of 1959.”
A great recollection. I spent some time in a neighbor-mom’s 59 Dynamic 88 as well – a white 4 door hardtop.
If I am not mistaken, your father’s Oldsmobile would have actually had one of the last of the really good 4 speed Hydra-Matics (the Jetaway HydraMatic). I don’t believe that the big Olds got a 3 speed until the unlamented Roto-HydraMatic in 1961.
I remember that speedometer. And didn’t the car have the greatest steering wheel ever with that deep, deep, deep dish between the two spokes.
“If I am not mistaken, your father’s Oldsmobile would have actually had one of the last of the really good 4 speed Hydra-Matics (the Jetaway HydraMatic).”
Maybe that’s what I’m remembering. I have vague recollections of my dad referring to the car’s “Super” gear that made it fast off the line, being some sort of special, “extra” setting that others cars didn’t have. So the tranny being a FOUR-speed might explain that. Tanx for the info, my good man.
And yes, Paul, I did (eventually) forgive my mother for her automotive sins. In fact, her disposal of the vehicle came in useful during my turbulent teens as a sort of bargaining chip whenever my mother and I might clash over the usual adolescent parent-child conflicts (hair length, beer drinking, pot usage, etc). This way, when she would hit me with the predictable guilt-trip cliche of “It’s a good thing your father’s not here anymore to see this!”, the teenaged Alexander could then counter with, “And you think he’d be happy to learn that his beloved black Oldsmobile, after it was promised to me, you let it go for a lousy THIRTY-FIVE BUCKS? You’re lucky his ghost isn’t HAUNTING you over that!”
Here’s the one that was in Collectible Automobile a couple of years ago — a 98 h/t, and therefore a little flashier (and a couple of inches longer) than ours:
http://www.kingoftheroad.net/59olds/olds-1.html
Here’s the deep-dish “Safety Vee” steering wheel JPC mentioned:
http://www.kingoftheroad.net/59olds/album/image/59Olds243.jpg
And it turns out that Technicolor speedo was called the “Safety Spectrum.” Safety steering wheel, safety speedo — who knew Detroit was that concerned with safety back then? Somebody inform Ralph Nader, quick! Because from what I recall, dad had to pay extra for even a little padding on an otherwise all-metal dash to keep his infant son’s brains from being bashed out in a collision. And seatbelts were still a decade away. Whatever “safety” that car possessed derived primarily from its being an 18-foot, two-ton battering ram. “Safety” consisted in knowing that, whatever harm you might suffer in an accident, at least the other guy would get it worse 🙂
Quite the sad ending (: I hope you could find it in your heart to eventually forgive her.
Those were some wild and tough cars. My brother’s friend had a ’60 Olds two-door hardtop (hand-me-down), and I loved riding in that (except in the summer sun, in the back). It still knew how to hustle…
Nothing unremarkable about the 1959 Olds. That was the year GM had freaked out about the 1957 Chrysler products and decided to join the jet age with much lower, wider, longer, jettier cars. The previous year Oldsmobiles and Buicks were on the old straight no footwells frame, and the ’59’s were on frames that permitted lower floors with wells.
The four door sedan (not hardtop) was maybe the stodgiest, but still pretty pre-Kennedy admin Camelot.
Although the 1961, particularly in the soon to be gone glassy two door hardtop, was just awesome.
That is a great, great reminisce. Thanks for sharing, Paul.
Great story Paul. It reminds me of the time my grandfather finally listened to my grandmother about getting a smaller car and traded his ’68 Caprice for a ’69 Camaro.
The Camaro he choose because he liked the shade of green had a 396 THM 400. My grandfather only had one speed, foot to the floor. After 3 weeks of laying tire everywhere he went, the Camaro was replaced with a ’70 Monte Carlo that was just as green and only slightly less quick of the line.
This was truly a great story and I certainly could appreciate it. While at San Diego State in the early 1970s, I had a 1957 Ford Custom with a 390 out of a 1963 Thunderbird with a 4 speed. I installed it all myself and actually wanted to put mechanical fuel injection on it, but never did. I later had a 1967 Cougar GT 390 with a 4 speed and 427 heads that would scream up the 8 freeway near State going 90 in third gear. My Cougar had a set of Cobra Lemans valve covers that were off a Cobra. I sold that car to a friend when I graduated for $1100. I have since had multiple new Black Z28s and currently have two 1997 Z28s. So thanks for your story and thoughts. I really enjoyed the story about how your father drove. I always drove in a similar fashion for fun. Love all the Fast Fords!
Very nice story Paul ;
I really like the car too .
My Pop was also a weird driver , he never liked American cars though and after selling the 1960 IHC Travelall , never bought anything but imports .
I’m thinking back 50 + to the years of auto travel with Pops , always with the windows closed even in Summer and never AC , maybe his erratic driving was because of that , not just dying of lack of fresh air .
It seems puking and Pops having screaming fits was just a normal part of travel back then .
I made sure my Son never experienced any thing like that .
-Nate
Thank you for attaching your dad’s obituary. It really helps put a face to the story:-).
Very few people below the age of 40 believe me when I tell them how my Mother taught me how to “Power Brake” a vehicle, using her “Grocery Getter” ’66 Ford Country Sedan wagon, equipped with Ford’s 390 4-barrel “Thunderbird Special” engine as the test mule.
“C’mon Mom, Light ‘Em Up Again!”
I can still see the dirty looks my Father gave my Mother (and me, even though I was all of 12 years old at the time?) as he rotated the tires, trying to get more even wear out of them.
A good and highly amusing (rainy and windy) Saturday read !
Although dad was on the road every working day, he never was really interested in cars, or automobile-technology in general. He didn’t care about where a car (or any other kind of vehicle) was built, which engine and transmission it had, how fast it could go, its road manners, etc.etc.
But he did have (and still has) the perfect “feeling” for driving; both forwards and backwards. Mopeds, cars, vans, trucks (all sizes), tractors with semi-trailers, farm tractors and forklifts. No matter the kind of transmission, he starts the thing and drives off without drama. In all the decades (since the mid-sixties) and hundreds of thousands of miles he was on the road, he never was involved in an accident.
This post is what hooked me on CC three years ago.
While we (Dad, Mom and their “car crazy” 10 year old kid) poured over the brochure for their special ordered (above mentioned) ’66 Country Sedan station wagon, Dad quietly mused “In theory we COULD order a 4 speed with this 390 engine option”. (Dad HATED all automatic transmissions wayyyyy back then).
As I giggled in glee at the mental thought of THAT combo; Mom shot Dad a dirty look seldom seen from her. The “Dual Range” C6 Cruise-o-Matic automatic transmission was quickly & quietly agreed to.
Paul, it’s been a long time before I smiled, guffawed and chortled out loud before my third cuppa cawfee.
Thanks!
Having the 4-speed transmission shipped in the trunk for dealer installation may not be as outrageous as it first may seem. I would imagine that when a lot of people (like me) think of ‘transmission’, they think of a big, heavy automatic transmission with the huge bellhousing attached. Getting that in the trunk of a car, even a big car from the sixties, would take some effort.
But a manual transmission (by itself, without the clutch/pressure plate assembly) isn’t nearly that big or heavy. So, having it in the trunk of a large car isn’t really that big of a deal.
But the three speed would be a column shift and the four speed a floor shift, so not just a matter of plugging in the different unit.
Paul, I hadn’t laughed so hard in years at your article and subsequent comments.
And on a more somber note your father must have been a truly an amazing person. He had to be to survive what he survived in early adulthood. There were a large percentage of soldiers in the German Army who did not want to be there. My dad said his maternal grandfather was a conscript in the German Army in the late 1800’s and as soon as he got out he emigrated to the US.
As far as immigrants to this country it seemed like a lot of my friends had either one or both parents were foreign born, this being in Portland during the 50-60’s just a few hours from you. As I spent many a dinner at their houses, I learned to appreciate their diverse cultures. As 6 out 8 of my great grandparents are also foreign born, I can appreciate the melting pot this country is.
As far as Fords being their car of choice it is true in my observations of their cars. Not everyone had a Ford but the were in the clear majority. Thanks again for the article.
I don’t remember this one, Paul–it must precede my lucky “discovery” of CC. Here’s a handy early-1961 summary of all of the Detroit’s hottest engines (doesn’t include the 3x2V for our 390, though):
Thanks for that (as always). That 315 hp 283 Chevy fuelie was quite the mill, given its output from that displacement. If there’s any doubt that it was a peaky engine, its max torque at 5,000 rpm confirms that.
Paul: I just read your story about your dad and his “61 starliner… I laughed till i cried!! I to remember going with my father ( a cold sat. in Dec. 1960) out old highway 6 to the small town of Casey iowa so Dad could price a new ’61 Ford station wagon. I remember sitting with my dad and the salesman @ his desk in the 1 car show room and he had a large book that showed the different interior colors and fabric patterns that he could choose from. When all was said and done, he ordered a red and while “61 4dr. country sedan with the 352 v8 and cruise-o-matic tranny. Just like in your story, when it came to selecting the “wheel covers” , Dad didnt want the full wheel covers, just the “hub caps” would suffice. ( He also so no need to pay good money for a “clock” as he wore a “wrist watch” and there was no need for that “extravagant” option!!) Oh ya…and “vinyl ” floor mats were the “order of the day”,no need for fancy carpeting!! But on the “flip side” of his frugality, he did opt for front “bumper guards”!! Anyway, about 3 weeks later the car arrived and so late that weekday nite we drove out to the dealorship to pick it up. ( Dad traded in a perfectly good “57 Merc 2dr Hrd top wagon with push button tranny and 368 turn pike cruiser engine….He “hated” the push button tranny..thats the only reason he “dumped” the Merc.) Anyway, we all pile in the new Ford and head back on old hiway 6 to Urbandale (about a 45 mile drive). No sooner had we left the townof casey when dad realized ( its about 10 pm @this time) that his new ford only had about 1/8th of a tank of gas in it, gas stations were closed and its “sub zero” outside…Needless to say, when we got to Waukee there was a “truck stop” ( emerald Isle) open and he was able buy some much needed petro!! Anyway, the ford was a “mundane people hauler” and provided many years of useful service. ( I still remember how when we got home that nite and parked it in Dad’s garage, rite away we had him”pop” the hood. He was amazed at how they place the battery ( power punch) so that it sat at an “angle” mext tothe radiator!!) He loved the power steering, the padded dash and the “electric” rear window.. I also remember he had ordered 2 extra rims with the car..So the first thing he did was he went and had a new pair of Firestone Town and Country snow tires ( wide whites to match those on the car) mounted on the new red rims!!!!
Great story, Paul! We all have stories about particularly scary rides with family members driving. My Dad did the reverse, where power was concerned. He went from a 1955 Buick Century Riviera coupe (owned for four days before it became clear that it was too small), followed by a 1955 Super Riviera sedan and a 1958 Super Riviera hardtop sedan, to a 1961 Ford Fairlane 500 sedan. My Mom thought that he was spending too much on cars that were larger than we needed, so he bought the Ford in the fall of 1960. It had the “Mileage-Maker” inline-six gutless wonder of an engine, with the horrible two-speed Fordomatic transmission. The following summer, on a trip to the Catskill Mountains, the car almost didn’t make it up one particularly steep hill, much to my Dad’s consternation. To add insult to injury, once we reached our destination, I managed to lock the ignition key in the trunk, necessitating a phone call home to get the key number, and a long-distance trip to an area Ford dealer, fortunately open on Saturday, for a replacement key. After that incident, at age 13, I had my own car key as a precaution, and the incident was never repeated. I agree that the ’61 can be good looking, in the right configuration. Unfortunately, our car wasn’t it.
Surely my favorite Paul Posting.
Gonzo, old-school Car and Driver/National Lampoon-style fiction aside, my biggest takeaway was how Ford bookended the sixties with some legitimate musclecar speed. First off, it’s tough to remember how big a thing a 4-speed was back in the day. Hell, Chrysler didn’t have a widely available 4-speed until, what, 1964? Until then, they made do with a heavy-duty 3-speed or TorqueFlite in all but stuff like the Max Wedge.
On top of that, I suspect the biggest thing that put the kibosh on Ford’s street performance program was GM’s early killing of all factory-sponsored racing. I’m sure Ford figured if GM was bowing out, there was no point to them continuing. Oh, sure, there was stuff like the 427 SOHC, but that engine was quickly terminated when NASCAR ruled it had to meet volume production numbers (to which Chrysler responded by releasing the 1966 Street Hemi).
For the most part, after the 1961 390 4-speed Starliner, Ford really didn’t get back in the game until the 1968 1/2 428 CobraJet. And, as everyone knows, it was pretty much too late by then.
CC Effect? Or CC Subliminal Suggestion?
Reading about the other alternative universe Dr. N car yesterday, I briefly mentioned this CC, but got the year wrong calling the Starliner a ‘62.
It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever read here, and remembered it when a I read about the “Dr. N… Caddy”.
If you haven’t done so already, I highly recommend clicking the link to Paul’s Dad’s obituary. He was a very interesting guy who led a really full life. A story worth its own CC, if there isn’t one here already.
Thanks for reposting this one, Paul.
Thanks for posting this. I read it previously, but enjoyed it again, and this time I read the obit on your Dad. I must say I was never keenly aware of POWs having been transported all the way across the Atlantic to midwestern U.S. prison camps. Somehow I imagined that they would have all been brought to Britain perhaps. Just goes to show, you learn something new every day, especially on CC.
Actually, most were kept in crude camps in France, near where they were captured. A modest number came to the US My father considered himself very lucky to be included in that, as he was concerned about starving at the camp he was in. The food rations there were not adequate, and many German POWS did succumb as a consequence.
There’s a bit on his time in the US as a POW in this CC:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1990-pontiac-lemans-the-lows-and-rocky-mountain-highs-of-gms-deadly-sin-12/
This picture is him revisiting the foundations of Camp Hale in Colorado in 1990. He had been there in 1945 to tear the barracks down.
Paul, I’d missed your account of your father’s wartime service–thanks for pointing me/us to this today. It always amazed me how POW’s captured in Europe were brought back to the U.S., so many thousands of miles away. But I guess troopships taking our men to Europe had plenty of empty space on the return lap, so might as well bring back the POW’s, I guess….
That said, the early-60s Fords were the first ones I really paid attention to, memorizing all the powertrain options and such. Even if today’s Starliner would be too much for me, one of these would be a fun “hobby car.”
Thanks Paul, I read the Le Mans article. Come to think of it, my father in law was captured as a POW in WW II by the Allies (he was Italian). I believe he was captured in Africa, but like my Dad, he apparently never spoke much of his experience. He was held in Belgium as a prisoner for the duration of the war.
My own Dad was in the Canadian army, and spent WW II time in GB, France, and Holland as a medic. The war was a very scarring experience for him, as I know it was for many.
An account of German submariners escaping their Arizona POW camp with the intention of floating their homemade boat to Mexico. They didn’t realize that the the Gila isn’t much of a river:
https://www.historynet.com/the-not-so-great-escape-german-pows-in-the-us-during-wwii.htm
Hey! You never told us your dad starred in a Gus Wilson episode!
That’s a good chapter. I loved Gus when I was a kid.
Missed this the 1st time. Thx for the rerun. My German immigrant father was a Rambler man who also had a very strange way of driving automatic equipped cars. He would hold one foot on the brake, give the engine 1/2-2/3rds throttle, then slowly release the brake. In our small town with 25 mph speed limits, he often never entirely released the brake pedal. You could always spot his Rambler going down the road because the brake lights were permanently lit. Only on the road did he finally release the brakes. Needless to say, brake jobs were a frequent occurrence. Don’t remember any transmission problems though.
My dad had been a Luftwaffe pilot in WWII. Growing up in Leipzig, his parents had no car. He learned to fly a plane long before he ever drove. Only when I learned more about flying did I finally realize his driving technique perfectly mimicked the way a pilot would have handled a plane taxiing on the ground.
Pleased to read here that Paul shares my admiration for Gus Wilson and the Model Garage.
For years….decades…I carefully single edged razor bladed every Gus Wilson story I could find in my Father’s subscription stacks of “Popular Science” magazine (sometimes before Dad even read the entire magazine, much to his irritation), collected them all in a 3 ring, blue cloth covered 1960’s school binder, read them over and over again.
Alas, my “Gus Collection” was turned into a moldy pile of pulp when the shoddily built U. S. Corps of Engineers’ faulty flood controlled levies failed & flooded New Orleans after hurricane Katrina passed thru.
Here’s an internet link to ALL of the many years of Gus Wilson articles: http://www.gus-stories.org/The_Stories.htm
Enjoy!
I can’t help but remembering a similar story to yours by Jay Leno on the Tonight Show, 1989: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVmB6u5BbfA
Bob
Yup! Jay Leno has mentioned his Father and the car he ordered for him in several interviews and magazine articles.
(‘Course Paul’s version is much more enjoyable.)
+1!
Bob
My father was a chemistry Ph.D. and pretty much a rational man, but he had this idea about stop signs: once he had observed the stop, it was then on the cross traffic to give him the right of way. He once started explaining his theory to a policeman, who told him to save his breath.
My 1961 Ford starliner. 292, 3sp with overdrive. Originally purchased at Burns motor, Hawley, mn. I owned it from 65-67. Not many around.
Donald ;
Any chance of a picture ? .
Those were nice cars, I’m a BowTie guy but remember them fondly .
-Nate