I’ve seen this battered and bruised Tempo sitting in front of this house for quite a few years now and I always wonder how its wounds came to be. Was it given to the kids as their first car? Is it a veritable punching bag for the owner’s frustrated aggressions? Or is there something about the sight of a (very rare) Tempo that triggers PTSD (Post Tempo Stress Disorder) in former Tempo owners and causes them to involuntarily hit it in traffic?
Like so many failed American small cars at the time (think GM’s J cars), the Tempo arrived for 1984 with false promises and exaggerated premises. Or “all hat, no cattle.” To claim that the Tempo had “the true instincts of a driver’s car” was a shameful lie. It sat on a stretched NA-Escort platform, a car that was seriously dynamically challenged in its early years, especially in its weak-kneed suspension and weak-chested engine. Given its advanced aerodynamic envelope, one might have expected good news or a check inside, but no, it was just junk mail.
Its suspension, with the first use of MacPherson-style struts at the rear, looked good on paper and gave a fairly comfortable ride, but it tripped all over itself as soon as the going became a bit challenging.
And under the hood vibrated two-thirds of a Falcon six, with a new head featuring “High Swirl Combustion” chambers. The swirl may have been high, but it didn’t amount to much at the flywheel, with all of 84 hp from the carbureted 2.3 L pushrod four. In case anyone asks, the reason this low-tech, high-NVH engine was created was simply because Ford had a lot of unused capacity at its Falcon six engine plant, and much of the same machinery could be reused.
And then there was the three-speed ATX automatic, an unusual torque-splitting design that was more efficient even without a lock-up torque converter but felt decidedly odd, with jerky shifts and a decidedly mechanical feel in second and third, which did no favors to the engine which needed all the help it could get from a mushy torque converter.
Like so many other Americans in the ’80s and ’90s, my only driving experience with a Tempo was in a rental car. Stephanie and I took a kid-less vacation to explore New Mexico for a week in the fall of 1984, and we were treated to a new red Tempo sedan as our rental. My idea of exploration is not just the typical tourist stops, but the back roads and non-roads. We thrashed it all over the state, including trails normally associated with four wheel drive vehicles. The verdict: a travel companion that talked too much, tripped too often, and wouldn’t keep up the desired pace. The noisy, overworked four droned and thrummed perpetually. Handling was imprecise and flaccid. The suspension’s longish travel was a help, but better damping was sorely missed as the Tempo bounced along.
Unlike its sleek aero exterior, the interior was neither sleek nor…attractive. The best thing I can say is that the Tempo is that survived all the abuse I threw at it. Good thing I only dented instead of tearing off the oil sump on one particular rock. It would have been awkward to explain to the rental company what I was doing just there on that remote “road”. Stephanie’s driver at home was a Honda Civic at the time, and let’s just say the Tempo was no Honda. Even less so in its latter days, when the Japanese competition had evolved several generations further. This was the perpetual issue at Ford and GM at the time: their new small cars weren’t competitive the day they arrived and within a couple of years they were utterly left in the dust.
In 1988, the Tempo and its Topaz twin got a major refresh, with styling changes to make it look more like its much better-endowed big brother Taurus. Given how well the Taurus came off from day one, one might wonder why the Tempo didn’t? The easy explanation is that Ford was just too strapped for cash and development time, seeing as it was just struggling to emerge from its near brush with bankruptcy a couple years earlier. This is all they could afford. And this is what a lot of Tempo drivers felt about that. Go ahead and hit it again! You’ll feel better.
Curiously, the interior actually looks almost worse than the exterior, like it sat in a junkyard with the windows open for several years. At least it’s sporting the 5-speed manual that relieved the 4-speed in late 1985. And by this time it was feeding all of fuel-injected horsepower to the front wheels. An AWD version was available from 1986 through 1990, but it was a very rare sight indeed. Now that would be a find…
These are not just zip ties but genuine cable ties. This suggests that the owner is serious about keeping this Tempo intact, stretching the meaning of that word somewhat. Perhaps they know that there’s still a bit more PTSD out there that might need to be relieved?
Astute car spotter will note that there’s a Honda Civic del Sol hiding from the rain in the driveway and a Volvo 245 wagon across the street. Does the plastic over the sun-loving del Sol perhaps suggest that its removable roof is not quite waterproof?
And there’s a late-stage Mondeo sniffing the Tempo’s butt. Now that’s food for speculation. Are these die-hard Ford fans (except for the del Sol)? The Mondeo is a direct successor to the Tempo’s lineage, having been replaced in 1995 by the Ford Contour, which was of course an Americanized Mondeo.
Postscript: In 1992 China bought some 3,100 Ford Tempos, the largest fleet order ever for Ford. It was part of a package of $130 million dollars worth American cars and other products that China agreed to buy in a political move to placate America about the very unfavorable trade imbalance that was growing at the time. Sound familiar? Do any Chinese have PTSD?
Related CC Reading
Curbside Classic: 1988-94 Ford Tempo & Mercury Topaz – Sabotaging Yourself Is Easy by W. Stopford
Curbside Classic: Ford Tempo – A Car I Love To Hate by Perry Shoar
Curbside Classic: 1984 Ford Tempo GLX …And Where Have You Been Hiding? by Carey Haubrick
Yes. I have Post Tempo Stress Disorder. I had almost forgotten about the herky-jerky shifting of the three-speed auto. Memories of the thrashy, stall-prone HSC four-cylinder seemed to have created the most noise in my head about the ’84 I had inherited.
Re the poor ride control, I’m convinced Ford cheaped out on factory shock absorbers. After I replaced the strut shocks in my Escort, its roadholding improved dramatically. However, I still regret not buying a Mazda GLC or Civic, for the Escort felt half-baked; the fools at Dearborn apparently didn’t want to invest in engineering low-profit compacts properly.
The 2nd gen redesign looks like a Tempo was forcibly squeezed into a Taurus mold. There’s something really awkward happening where the C- and D-pillars meet the roof. I can never unsee it.
Not at all! I applaud the use of real cable ties here, but we liked our Topaz and it was reliable cheap transportation:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-1989-mercury-topaz-i-cant-go-im-too-nervous/
That being said we didn’t buy it new, it certainly was no Honda and I wouldn’t want another.
I do have Post Triumph Stress Syndrome from my TR-4, but that does not stop me from wanting another one.
I rented several of these, brand new cars that seemed 10 years old. If it wasn’t the worst car on the market, what was?
I had a white 86 (I believe it was 86). Got it for 600 Bones. It was the 5 speed if I recall. it also had the red interior. T’was an ok car (especially for the price), never had major issues. Drove for a year or so, then sold to a fella in “Esprinfeld” (as he pronounced it), Mass.
He never registered it (believe it or not), and months later I got a bill for “MY” Tempo going through toll roads and not paying.
Anyway, I think PTSD should stand for : “PRESENT Tempo Stress Disorder”, if you own one. The ‘stress’ (usually) goes away with the Tempo.
Is it just my vision, or is that front tire ‘balder than a baby’s but’, in the cable tie Photo?
Not that I’d be surprised based on the rest of the car’s condition.
My father got one for my stepmom in the early 90s. It was a white car with red interior, and inside it seemed pretty nicely done. I never drove it, because I had no desire to. It didn’t stick around long and I never heard either of them speak fondly of it. It was followed by an Acura Integra.
The first Tempo had me a little excited, as the purest sedan expression of Thunderbird’s aero look. But I got over that pretty quickly after I got acquainted with that 2.3 four. That was the mystery of Ford back then – some truly good cars and some truly awful cars in the same showroom at the same time.
I’ve mentioned it before but the wife’s aunt had two Topazs- an 88 LTS that served her well and I drove a few times, then a 92 base model that she had issues with.
Neither of those were as bad, though, as the two Mercury Mystiques that would come later. Oh my!
The split torque transmission- was that used in the Lynx cars? My FIL bought a used 83 Mercury Lynx wagon to use for deliveries for the hardware store and I drove it a few times.
First gear would wind way up, then jerk into second and quickly go to third. It was so bad that he took it into the dealer saying that the transmission was failing. They assured that
“They all do that” and after two months that car was gone! He picked up a much nicer Fairmont wagon
When traveling in the late ’80s-early ’90s, an intermediate car was the default government contract rental. I quickly learned to request a Chevy Corsica or Plymouth Acclaim. Neither were particularly desirable, but both were infinitely preferable to a Tempo.
The Tempo was one of the worst cars I had ever driven. At the time, I was driving VWs and Toyotas and to me, the Tempo seemed half baked at best. It was loud, boomy and didn’t handle well. I often wonder why Detroit couldn’t come up with a decent small car. It was like they just went through the motions and didn’t really care.
To me, the 1988 Tempo refresh is a foreshadow of the 1991 Mazda based Escort.
A recently retired coworker probably had this form of PTSD. I’ve posted this before. When he got hired, he bought a brand new Tempo to have reliable transportation. On his first scheduled workday, the Tempo wouldn’t start and had to be towed back to the Ford dealer. Think he said it was a bad computer. At least the boss was forgiving, and he stayed for 39 years.
A girl in high school had a Tempo. Went into the 7-11, came out to see the car in flames.
Wow, judging by the comments here, I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one who eventually came to loathe these cars. I’ve mentioned the Mercury Topaz that I had in these pages before, so I don’t want to re-hash that stuff. Besides I will get Post Topaz Stress Disorder. It’s no better than the Tempo version, but it does cost more.
I remember when the car was first announced, it seemed like it would be a nice package, but until I owned one, I realized why it was so deeply discounted and largely discredited. It could have been a contender…
In my case it’s Post Traumatic Topaz Syndrome. That car left such a bad taste in my mouth that I swore off the Ford family and all domestic manufacturers for the last thirty years.
I took driver’s ed in a Topaz in 1985. I remember cords sticking out of the tires, and not much else about it. It was good enough for three teenage boys to take turns driving, but no better than that.
Last month I was driving through West Virginia, and saw an early Tempo driving the other way. It was two-tone (I didn’t even remember that they were offered in two-tone) and appeared to be in very good shape. That was the first Tempo of any kind I’ve seen in quite a while. Wish I had been able to get a picture.
! I vaguely remember these, I thought they were popular when new .
-Nate
Discount American Anachronisms
The Tempo and Topaz weren’t the only ones. The later GM A and Js and second gen K cars all fit this mold.
Boxy styling. Old, mostly pushrod engines. Soft Cloth interiors. They weren’t trying to win the buff books. They were trying to win the value oriented customer, the fleet buyer, the person who wouldn’t darken the door of an import store. Oh and these were all US built. Nothing from the NAFTA zone or imported.
The Taurus and GM Ws didn’t fit this mold. They looked more modern and were born after 1985. They were more sophisticated. The cars I am talking about all had their genesis in the post gas crisis years and rolled on and on through the Gulf War and almost all the way to mass Internet use. But as the 90s rolled on, despite the profits on fully amortized platforms and unending demand from the rental counters, these cars vanished and were replaced by vehicles that aimed but often misfired at the imports. When these models were around Detroit still had 2/3 plus of the market.
We don’t really have comparable cars like this today. With all the complaints about affordability maybe we could use some? The closest we have are mostly imported and crossovered.
Is this Falcon engine with two shaved cylinders the same motor used about the same time in Argentina for the Falcón 2.3? It didn’t have power, and it’s mileage was no better than the 6 it was derived from.
The white car behind the Tempo is a 2014–2019 Ford Focus, not Mondeo/Fusion. Also I know I am not supposed to say this, but I kind of like the Red interior.
We rented these. So I’ve driven many. Most everyone wanted anything else but them, but we always had a new fleet at the ready. I didn’t like them. When I became a national executive for the rental car company I got exclusive cars, but sometimes I just used a brand new Tempo. There were worse. The Citation was junk, the Pontiac Sunbirds were cheap, the Cavalier was nasty. Kind of sad times.
Drove an ’88 company car. Loaded and with the venerable 2.3 four. Decent daily driver, comfortable smooth riding, not much power compared to my partner’s Taurus. One feature I’ve never seen duplicated was the power shoulder belt. When you turned on the ignition the belt would wrap around you or retract when the ignition was turned off. I kinda liked it. Novel idea. I could see how this feature could frustrate.