For years, GM’s mid-priced Oldsmobile brand did a brisk business making middle-class cars for middle-class buyers: unflashy full-size models aimed at people who wanted to demonstrate their affluence in respectable, conservative ways. The top of the Oldsmobile line was the Olds 98, which offered a full measure of luxury without the hey-look-at-me baggage of a Cadillac. Let’s take a look at two 98s — a restored 1946 Custom 8 Cruiser and a highly original, very imposing 1968 Luxury Sedan — and what Oldsmobile had to offer luxury car buyers.
The Oldsmobile Series 98 dates back to the 1940 model year. Oldsmobile had adopted its numerical series designations the year before, but the Series 90 Custom 8 Cruiser was new for 1940, reflecting an improving American economy in the period before the U.S. entered World War 2. The 98 returned for 1946 and continued without further interruption through 1996. The 98 was never a big-volume model, but it was usually the poshest Oldsmobile, closely comparable to Buick and even Cadillac in luxury and features.
In 1946, selecting a Series 98 Custom 8 Cruiser over the substantially cheaper, more popular Dynamic Cruiser Series 78 got you a car that was a little longer and wider (3 inches longer overall, 2 inches longer in wheelbase, 1.4 inches greater width), with 15-inch wheels that made it almost an inch lower.
To modern eyes, the blue 98’s height and bulbous styling make it look smaller than it really is: In length, it was almost the same size as a late ’60s Olds Delta 88 — 216 inches on a 127-inch wheelbase — although it was a bit narrower, by about 2½ inches. Rear fender skirts were standard on the 98, optional on other models.
Power steering, power brakes, and air conditioning were all in the future, and the straight-eight engine in the 98 was only 257 cid, giving 110 gross hp to move about 3,900 lb of Oldsmobile. However, the blue car does have Hydra-Matic, which was optional on all 1946 Oldsmobiles for around $142.
Enough of the technical minutiae — what I really want to show you here is the blue Custom 8 Cruiser’s interior, which was glorious. What you were really paying for in these top-of-the-line models was a full array of deluxe trim that cost extra on the lesser models, which in this case included a De Luxe instrument cluster, De Luxe steering wheel with horn ring, De Luxe electric clock, a cigarette lighter, foam rubber seat cushions, door armrests, a rear robe cord, a rear center armrest, and of course De Luxe upholstery. Let’s take a moment to admire it:
Obviously, the dashboard and door trim is not real wood, but its rich color really pops, and adds a cheerful note to the cabin. The green-tipped lever visible behind the steering wheel rim in some of these shots is an aftermarket turn signal lever — turn signals and backup lights were not among the 98’s standard features.
On some later cars, a “deluxe steering wheel” basically just meant a discreet chrome horn ring. The plastic Oldsmobile wheel lived up to its De Luxe billing, although its size meant you got rather up close and personal with it.
The De Luxe instrument panel was dazzling (literally, with so much bright metal trim), pleasingly styled with full instrumentation. I sometimes wonder if people in the late 1940s were sick of these Streamline Moderne fonts — they were to some extent a ’30s thing — but I’ve always been very fond of them.
The nifty De Luxe clock included a bright glove box surround for symmetry with the instrument panel.
The elaborate center grille work hides the radio speaker, which was behind the dash. I can’t tell from the photos if the radio in this car is the standard six-tube or pricier seven-tube De Luxe radio, which were both optional. So was the heater, which was customary practice at the time; there were two different available heaters, both extra-cost options.
Later domestic luxury cars were often described as living rooms on wheels, but the Custom Cruiser sedan’s back seat was REALLY sofa-like, with its fixed outer arms. Oldsmobile advertising proclaimed that the 98’s “luxurious lounge-type seats are almost as wide as divans.” The cord on the seat back was a robe rail, designed for holding lap robes for rear passengers to use in the winter.
In addition to the rope cord and ash tray, the seat back had an integral carpeted footrest. The 98 still didn’t quite have limousine legroom (Oldsmobile quoted 39.25 inches, measured from the center of the footrest), but backseat passengers were living large.
There was also a fold-down armrest in the center of the rear seat.
In all, the Olds Custom Cruiser sedan gave away very little in rear-seat luxury to a Cadillac Series 62 Town Sedan, which cost about one-third more.
Let’s fast-forward to 1968. The Ninety-Eight (Oldsmobile occasionally decided to spell it out) didn’t bear any strong lineal resemblance to its 1946–1948 predecessor, although they were broadly similar in configuration: big four-door notchback sedans with thick sail panels and semi-skirted rear wheels. The 1968 car even still had front vent windows, which were fast disappearing from GM cars. You could still order a painted roof in a contrasting color for $31.07, but a growing number of buyers preferred to achieve a similar effect with a padded vinyl top, a $121.12 option.
If I were to describe the 1968 Ninety-Eight with a single word, it would be “heavy.” It was a big car, 7.7 inches longer and around 500 lb heavier than the 1946 Custom Cruiser pictured above, but its styling seemed calculated to make it look even bigger. Looking at it, you can just sense its mass. Some earlier big Oldsmobiles still looked airy and even a touch sporty despite their size; the ’68 car didn’t, and it was clearly not trying to. Its styling seemed to convey the full weight of the bourgeois Establishment: It was the chamber of commerce, the school board, and the city council, all rolled into one four-wheeled, 223.7-inch, 4,600 lb package.
Although the Ninety-Eight had gained quite a bit of weight since 1946, it was now Rocket-powered with more than triple the gross output of the old straight-eight: 365 hp.
This car is a Ninety-Eight Luxury Sedan, which was the crème de la crème of senior Oldsmobiles. Paul has already chronicled the history of the Luxury Sedan and the competition between Oldsmobile and Buick, so I won’t recap it here, but the interior of this ’68 LS was even heavier than the exterior.
The dashboard was soberer than the ’40s car — the simulated walnut was darker and flatter, the deluxe steering wheel more subdued. There was still a surprising amount of brushed metal trim, but the new federal safety standards were starting to be felt. Most of the gauges were long gone, but Oldsmobile no longer made even F-85 buyers pay extra for turn signals or a heater. Turbo Hydra-Matic was standard on the Ninety-Eight, along with power steering, power brakes, and power windows.
This car was ordered with $1,460.89 worth of options that included Comfortron automatic air conditioning, cruise control, an AM/FM stereo with power antenna, a tilt-and-telescope steering wheel, a power seat, and a power trunk release (though not power locks).
However, you could get most of that stuff on a Delmont 88; what the Ninety-Eight Luxury Sedan buyer was really getting was interior decor that was both rich and ornate.
The embroidered cloth upholstery pictured here actually wasn’t the top interior option for these cars. For an extra $131.65, you could have the Royale option, which traded the Morocceen (expanded vinyl) bolsters for real leather, although the Royale leather interior was available only in black, while the Morocceen and cloth upholstery was available in five other colors.
Buyers of big American sedans of this time were still very keen on fold-down center armrests, and the Luxury Sedan had them both front and rear.
The Luxury Sedan also offered a unique seat back that provided rear passengers with assist handles, an additional courtesy light, and a central vanity compartment.
Unlike the folding rear trays previously offered on the Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham or the rear “picnic tables” in high-end British cars, the Oldsmobile vanity was not arranged for signing treaties or world-shaking business deals. It was aimed at passengers who might like to check their makeup before heading into the gala. (This car was also ordered with a front visor vanity mirror, so it was well-equipped for nose-powdering.)
If you rated a luxury car based on its ability to pamper rear-seat passengers, the Ninety-Eight Luxury Sedan might actually have outdone the contemporary Cadillac Sedan de Ville.
The De Ville offered a little bit of real leather on the bolsters, a few more buttons, and an assist strap rather than handles, but you didn’t get a rear vanity, and the ambiance wasn’t any more posh.
Historians and pundits (myself included) love to compare any luxurious older American car to Cadillac, often concluding that less prestigious rivals offered similar or greater substance for less money. For the most part, I don’t think contemporary buyers did a lot of that kind of cross-shopping — a new Cadillac was a formidable status symbol in this era, and not many buyers approached them like a Consumer Reports comparison.
Where I suspect the relative value of a car like an Oldsmobile 98 was more likely to come into play was AFTER purchase. Was an Oldsmobile shopper likely to test-drive a De Ville and then buy a Ninety-Eight Luxury Sedan because it seemed like a better dollar value? Probably not, but an Oldsmobile owner very well might take satisfaction in turning to his wife after a ride in their friends’ Sedan de Ville and saying, “You know, Millicent, I think our Ninety-Eight is just a nicer car than that Cadillac.”
As much as the 1968 Ninety-Eight differs from the 1946 car in detail — size, power, proportions — it’s striking how similar their concepts of luxury remained. The ’68 offered more features, but what differentiated it from cheaper Olds models was not its optional accessories, but the familiar formula of plusher upholstery, simulated woodgrain, and quasi-limousine rear seat accommodations. It obviously continued to appeal to a significant segment of middle America for many years.
Cars like the Ninety-Eight also provide some context for cheaper domestic luxury models like the Ford LTD and Chevrolet Caprice. This Luxury Sedan was pretty much what the early LTD and Caprice were trying to evoke, and while they couldn’t always match the mid-price cars in materials quality or detailing, there was obviously a lot of money to be made by offering 85 percent of the luxury for 70 percent of the price.
I’m fascinated by both of these Oldsmobiles — not because I particularly want either of them, but because they’re like characters in a sharply observed movie or TV drama. Looking at them, you can immediately start to picture the kinds of people who would own them: the way they dressed, the lives they led, their priorities and values, and whom you might cast to play them onscreen. (Maybe Fredric March for the ’46 Olds, Jack Lemmon or Sidney Poitier for the ’68?)
As cars, these Oldsmobiles were neither the best nor the worst of their kind, and they weren’t remarkable in engineering or performance. As glimpses into the middle-class American psyche, they remain rich and rewarding.
Related Reading
Car Show Classic: 1946 Oldsmobile 78 Dynamic Club Sedan – The Greatest Generation (by Tatra87)
1963 Oldsmobile 98 Luxury Sedan – When Olds First Leapfrogged Buick On The Sloan Ladder (by Paul N)
Auction Classic: 1969 Oldsmobile 98 Holiday Coupe – Long Green In Artificial Light (by me)
GM still makes a car for half of this population, the GMC Yukon Denali.
For the half of it who live in a context where unflashy people simply don’t buy full size body-on-frame SUVs, but aren’t ready to go full electric yet, they got nothing.
“Its styling seemed to convey the full weight of the bourgeois Establishment: It was the chamber of commerce, the school board, and the city council, all rolled into one four-wheeled, 223.7-inch, 4,600 lb package.”
Great line, Aaron. 🙂
My Grandfathers last car was a 1968 Delta 88 Custom. It was at the time, the top of the line Delta 88. It was a dealership demo bought in Orlando, FL. I remember it had that spinning wheel cruise control that was very rare for the time. My favorite feature was the size 13 shoe gas pedal. It was super loaded, minus power locks. The horn was a rubber strip inside the steering wheel rim. He loved that car and I loved him!
My Grandparents lived in NC at the time and on Sundays, he and I would take it out on the back country roads and open her up!
GM had the magic touch in those years. When Lincoln or Chrysler tried to share a body between their high end brands and lower-priced models, you could feel the prestige leaking from the Lincoln or Imperial. But Cadillac was Cadillac, so what if Buick or Olds offered a car that shared the basic structure.
Where I grew up, the 98 had not always been common, but became much more so starting around 1967-68. That these cars were so nicely executed is probably a big reason.
It’s interesting to me to see fully optioned cars (all the way through the ’70s) that have nearly every extra-cost accessory except power door locks. They were often frustrating, problematic and unreliable.
Interesting and enlightening comparison, Aaron.
Hard to believe these two cars are separated by a scant 22(!) years. Automotive design was really evolving quickly back then.
“Millicent” – perfect! Beautifully crafted piece.
A friend’s parents had a 1965 98 Luxury Sedan. It’s interior was easily the equal, if not superior, to a Cadillac DeVille. The Luxury Sedan was a major upgrade over the base 98.
That is one sweet Olds 98! I’d love to have it parked in my garage next to my 1975 Cadillac Eldorado convertible…
Make mine a ’49 98 Sedanette, with the new Rocket V8 and new styling. I like it better than the ’49 Cad.
I’ll go with you, Paul. I didn’t know they did the 98 as a sedanette. On width of the 1948, I would guess that about six inches of that was taken up by the pontoon fenders. I like the Streamline Moderne font. Maybe it evoked to the customers the fine coachbuilt cars of the 30s that were gone, never to return. I know the seat covering is correct, but it does look like mattress ticking. Also, for a luxury car were I marketing it I would make sure backup/turn lights were included, along with a heater, and cigar lighter also. Back then, everyone smoked. Were I in the market in 1946, I would feel nickel and dimed. Two qujestions: 1. What was the rear legroom on the later 98? 2. Can the rear vanity hold a jar of Grey Poupon?
I owned an amazingly well-preserved medium green ’47 Dynamic Cruiser 78 coupe in the late ’70s as a re-sale car. The 257 flathead straight 8 was only slightly larger than the 6 and barely more powerful but very quiet, smooth, and torquey at low speeds with the 4 Spd HydraMatic. The original decal dashboard woodgraining on these was more restrained, a bit darker, less vivid and not as attractive than the painted woodgrain reproduction that was done in this ’46. That is one beautifully restored car, but hate to think what that would cost today for a car that would struggle to get barely $30K today.
The ’67/68 98 was one of Olds nicest overall, but materials were beginning to be downgraded from the early ’60s due to safety and bean-counters. A very attractive car that fulfilled it mission well to the comfort crowd.
I was a typesetter for some years, so I notice fonts, and I like the Streamline Moderne font. It would be interesting to see a collection of photos of automotive instrument clusters.
On the ’46, it would be logical to have the heater or the robe cord, but not both. If I were ordering my new ’46 Olds, I’d specify the heater.
It had only been about a decade, in 1946, since car heaters had broken into wide availability, and I think people still expected robe rails in nice cars. Also, standard heaters were just a little box under the dashboard and it would take awhile to warm up the backseat passengers. Some cars had optional underseat heaters; I’m not sure about Olds.
Oldsmobile was still using something like the “Streamline Moderne” typeface on its 1950 models, which had been extensively revised, so probably nobody saw it as old-fashioned quite yet.
GM was still using that font as late as 1953. Grandpa’s Chevy truck had that style on the dash. I thought it was odd at the time.
Thanks for this writeup. I especially like that ’46!
Great read, Aaron! Thanks!
Late to the party here Aaron, but this was a great read. Thanks for the deep dive. I’d love to have either one of these in my fantasy garage.
My great uncle was a fan of the Oldsmobile brand, but I can’t recall if he ever had a ‘98. I think his car in 1968 (I was 7 or 8 at the time) was an ‘88 with lots of options, but from what I remember it was much nicer than our ‘68 Chevy Impala, that’s for sure.
I was raised in the country. My second-grade teacher lived about a mile from me, in a colonial style 2 story home. It had a flat-top carport out back where she parked her car. Over the years, she had a 1961 Ninety Eight (while I was in her class), a 1964 Ninety Eight, and a 1968 Ninety Eight. Every time I passed by, I would notice her car sitting under the carport. Her next car was a 1978. Her husband died sometime between 1968 and 1978, so I guess he had a lot of influence on keeping her car updated. No, the 1978 was not a Ninety Eight, it was a 1978 Pontiac Catalina. But don’t fear, there was still a 1978 Ninety Eight in the neighborhood. My mom had a 1978 Ninety Eight Regency.