Curbside Musings: 1994 Dodge Shadow – Groundhog Day

1994 Dodge Shadow. Rogers Park, Chicago, Illinois. Sunday, February 11, 2018.

I sat down to write this on Groundhog Day, February 2nd, which fell on a Friday this year.  I wouldn’t have noticed or paid attention to the occasion were it not for an unfailingly entertaining and informative online group chat at work.  Aside from a brutal cold snap that hit Chicago six weeks ago (it hit -10 degrees Fahrenheit / -23 Celsius at O’Hare International Airport, before factoring in the wind chill), it has been yet another mild winter.  Folklore has it that when the groundhog emerges from its hole in the ground on the second day of February, and if it sees its shadow, winter weather will continue as planned for another six weeks.  If the groundhog doesn’t see its shadow, then spring-like temperatures can be expected in advance.  It’s all so scientific.

1994 Dodge Shadow sales brochure page, as sourced from the internet.

I remain a huge fan of the Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell picture Groundhog Day and have seen it enough times that, at one point, I could run lines along with the film almost continuously.  Apparently, the groundhog didn’t see its shadow on the first Friday of this month, so spring is supposed to come early.  As a warm-weather guy, I think that’s great, but an early end to winter used to mean so much more in Chicago after trudging over and through salt-strewn sidewalks lined with dirty snowbanks on a daily basis.  The Second City is supposed to be notoriously awful in winter.  We basically got another freebie this year, so I’ll not look a gift horse in the mouth and will just rock myself back and forth to quell my sense of unease with what continues to look like significant, adversely impactful climate change.

1994 Dodge Shadow. Rogers Park, Chicago, Illinois. Sunday, February 11, 2018.

The groundhog’s shadow was absent on the second day of February, much like the Dodge Shadow, once ubiquitous, has mostly disappeared.  In all fairness, the newest and final Shadow is now thirty years old, so it would be expected that one would be rare in 2024.  The last time I recall having seen one near where I live was in June of 2022, but these pictures predate that sighting by four years, being from February of 2018.  According to a license plate search, this example in what appears to be factory Glamour Turquoise Metallic (I’m not making that up) appears to still be kicking it on these streets.  In its final year of production, the Shadow came in just two body styles, a three- and five-door hatchback, and in two levels of trim, base and ES.  The convertible, introduced for ’91, had bowed out after ’93, with just over 6,300 sold that year and with about 29,000 produced, all-up.

1994 Dodge Shadow sales brochure page, as sourced from the internet.

I was confused by what might be under the hood based on the license plate search, which indicated a 2.0-liter four cylinder, the mill that the new 1995 Neon got.  According to my 2002-edition Encyclopedia Of American Cars from the editors of Consumer Guide, the ’94 Shadow was available with normally aspirated 2.2L and 2.5L fours (with 93 and 100 horsepower, respectively), as well as a turbo 2.5 with 142 hp.  The latter would have provided a decent amount of scoot for the 2,600-pound five-door.  The base 2.0L for ’95 had 132 horses, a figure that wasn’t far behind the turbo’s number.

Shadow production for ’94 ended that March, which overlapped the rollout of the Neon which was introduced that January as a ’95 model.  Was there a shortage of 2.2s and/or 2.5s engines?  Perhaps a surplus of initial 2.0s?  It’s possible that the results of my license plate search weren’t bulletproof, but somehow I doubt that.  Final-year sales of the Shadow weren’t horrible for a small, domestic car in its eighth year of production, just shy of the hundred-grand mark with about 97,900 sales.  (The fellow P-platform Plymouth Sundance sold 70,400 units in ’94, a significant difference of about 28% from the Dodge, reflective of Plymouth’s continued slide into irrelevance.)

1994 Dodge Shadow. Rogers Park, Chicago, Illinois. Sunday, February 11, 2018.

What I loved about rediscovering these pictures from six years ago is just how “Chicago in winter” they looked.  There was the slush.  The dirt.  The bleak sky of nondescript gray.  The hulking bridge for the elevated train tracks of the CTA, complete with added steel bracing underneath, made its presence known as if to say, “This is the way it is, yous guys, so just deal with it.”  This is the kind of winter scene I remember from most of over two decades of living here.  If Punxsutawney Phil, the most famous groundhog of all, had not seen his shadow in that Pennsylvania borough on the day I photographed this car near the Lake Shore campus of Loyola University, I’m sure I would have rejoiced.  I don’t remember if spring came early in 2018, but I’m glad I had emerged just long enough and at the right time for me to catch a glimpse of this Shadow.

Rogers Park, Chicago, Illinois.
Sunday, February 11, 2018.

Brochure pages were as sourced from the internet.