In Part One, we covered the early Pytchley and Golde sunroofs. Neither of these looks exactly like what you get when you order a sunroof in a car today. For the final chapter in the sunroof, we need to look at the company that ushered in the modern era of sunroofs and moonroofs, and became virtually synonymous with the technology: American Sunroof Company, or ASC for short.
Heinz Prechter in 1968
Our story begins with Heinz Christian Prechter, born in Germany during World War II on January 19, 1942. Prechter had an interest in cars and demonstrated a mechanical aptitude from an early age. Following graduation from vocational school, Prechter was accepted into the mechanical engineering program at the Ohm Polytechnic Engineering School in Nuremberg. One of Prechter’s classmates was Hans-Dieter Golde, a member of the Golde Schiebedächer family, and the two quickly became friends. Prechter undoubtedly gleaned a lot about the sunroof business from his association with the Golde family.
Early ASC Advertisement
In 1963, Prechter came to San Francisco where he attended San Francisco State University as a foreign exchange student. Using his connections with the Golde family, Prechter obtained a west coast distributorship for Golde Sunroofs. He then convinced the owner of a local auto shop to offer sales and installation of imported Golde sunroof kits, and the two created a partnership named American Sunroof Company. Not content to resell Golde sunroofs, ASC was soon building and installing sunroofs of Prechter’s own design.
George Barris custom 1965 Buick Wildcat Mystique
By 1965, ASC had moved to Los Angeles, where it was renting garage space from George Barris, installing sunroofs for stars and celebrities in L.A. Early ASC customers included Frank Sinatra and Steve McQueen. Several of Barris’ period concept cars featured ASC sunroofs, like the 1965 Buick Wildcat-based Mystique, pictured above. Using his connections at Ford, Barris facilitated an introduction between ASC and Ford Motor Company, with each company hoping to succeed with factory sunroofs where the 1960 Thunderbird had failed.
Once again, the Ford Thunderbird would be the guinea pig, in the form of the forthcoming fifth-generation model launching in the 1967 model year, which would be the first Thunderbird without a convertible option. The upcoming Mustang-based 1967 Mercury Cougar was chosen to receive an ASC sunroof option as well.
To better ensure success, several things would be different this time around. For starters, the sunroof would now be electrically powered, significantly increasing its appeal over the manually sliding affair in the 1960 T-Bird. More importantly, the installation would be done in ASC’s facility, and not on Ford’s assembly line, the expense of which would be baked into the per-unit cost ASC charged Ford, minimizing any financial risk to Ford.
Lastly, both the Thunderbird and Cougar were designed from the beginning around the sunroof option, allowing Ford to maximize part commonality between sunroof and non-sunroof models. This is the reason why Thunderbirds and Cougars of this vintage don’t have dome lights: Whether your car had a sunroof or not, your interior lighting was installed in the doors (and optionally in the C-pillar), and not in the roof. Other accommodations were made for the forthcoming sunroof option: The full-length overhead console from Thunderbirds of yore was reduced to a stubby indicator panel to free up roof space for the sunroof opening.
While the sunroof was introduced in 1967, it would not become a regular production option until 1968 on the Cougar, and 1969 on the Thunderbird (and sibling Lincoln Continental Mark III). Only 200 1967 Cougars and five 1967 Thunderbird Apollo models (specially built for Abercrombie & Fitch) were equipped with sunroofs.
Despite their best efforts at cost control, the sunroof was still a pricey option: $375 on the 1968 Cougar (not including the mandatory Oxford vinyl roof), or about $3,000 in 2021, and about 50% more than the 1960 Thunderbird sunroof (adjusted for inflation). Only 591 “factory” installed sunroof-equipped Cougars were sold in 1968 (plus another 431 Dan Gurney models modified by ASC). In fairness, the option was not heavily advertised in 1968, not appearing in any brochure, only in a handful of ads.
But to their credit, Ford stuck to their guns, and even doubled down, advertising the sunroof option on the 1969 Thunderbird even more heavily than in 1960, having it appear on the cover of the brochure and in virtually every ad. Despite the low take rate, Ford still deemed the 1969 sunroof a success due to more realistic sales expectations, the low-risk installation model with ASC, and pricing that guaranteed profitability even at low sales volumes ($453.30, $3,372 adjusted).
Unlike in 1960, the time was right for the sunroof by the late ’60s. By 1969 The Personal Luxury Coupe (PLC) was in full ascendency, which was fertile ground for indulgences like a power sunroof. Air conditioning was on the rise, and simultaneously convertibles were on the decline, leaving the sunroof as the only open-air option for many cars.
ASC’s arrangement with Ford was non-exclusive, and other manufacturers were quick to take notice. Cadillac offered a sunroof as a late-1969 option in the Eldorado, and heavily promoted it in 1970. Dodge also offered an ASC sunroof as a factory option in the Charger starting in 1969.
1970 Dodge Charger with ASC Sunroof
While they started out in luxury cars, power sunroofs soon trickled down to lesser cars, much like air conditioning did a few years earlier. ASC’s low-risk “we’ll install it in our facility” approach made sunroofs quick to be adopted by other manufacturers and brands. By 1971, you could get a power sliding sunroof in the Buick Riviera, as well as every Chrysler and Imperial model except the Town and Country wagon.
1972 Ford LTD with ASC Sunroof Option
By 1972, you could get a power sunroof on the Pontiac Grand Prix, Mercury Monterey and Marquis, and even a “lowly” Ford LTD.
1974 Dodge Dart with manual crank sunroof
By 1973, Chrysler was looking to further expand the sales (and profits) of its sunroof offerings. Chrysler felt confident enough in the viability of the sunroof option that it decided it was no longer worth the extra expense of shipping completed vehicles to ASC and back for sunroof installation. ASC developed a modular sunroof kit for Chrysler that could be installed right on Chrysler’s assembly line, powered either by an electric motor or a manual crank. The manual crank option, coupled with the elimination of the extra transit, allowed Chrysler to knock $200 off the sunroof option price (about $1,200 in 2021), cheap enough to offer on Dodge and Plymouth B- and A-body cars. Chrysler sunroof sales exploded from 4x to 8x (depending on the model). Now that there was proven demand, other automakers eventually followed suit, bringing their sunroof installation back in-house.
The next major advancement occurred in 1973, and in retrospect, it seems so obvious that I’m surprised no one thought of it sooner. While sliding roof panels have traditionally been made of steel with fabric underneath, there is no reason that they couldn’t have been made of any other material, such as glass. This is exactly what ASC did for the 1973 Lincoln Continental Mark IV, which featured a sliding glass roof panel. Ford executive John Atkinson is credited with coining the name “moonroof” for this new type of sliding panel roof. The ASC moonroof featured dark, silver-tinted glass and a sliding sunshade for when it was desired to block out all sunlight.
Of course, Cadillac was not going to cede any ground to Lincoln in the PLC arms race, so by 1975, they had their own sliding glass panel roof, to which they gave the equally spaced-out name of Astroroof. The name didn’t stick, and since Ford does not seem to have trademarked the term “moonroof,” it soon became the generic name for a sliding glass panel roof. By 1977, Chrysler was offering a sliding glass roof as well, alas without a space-age name. The sliding glass moonroof soon became commonplace, to the point where sliding metal sunroofs are seldom seen today.
2000 Audi A2 with multiple movable panel moonroof.
The last major innovation in sunroof technology is the multi-panel “panoramic” roof that has now become ubiquitous. The 2000 Audi A2 is generally credited with being the first car to be so equipped.
Sunroof sales have increased steadily ever since, to the point where they are now available in virtually every car, truck, SUV, and minivan. In 2017, the most recent year I could find statistics for, 40% of new vehicles sold in the US were equipped with a sunroof of some sort.
Square moonroofs are just too predictible. Make them moon-shaped, like Voisin did on his C25 Aérodyne. Now that’s a cool moonroof!
Most of the early sunroof advertising seems to show somebody (usually female) standing on the front seat, poking her head through the open sunroof. Does anybody do this in real life?
Unfortunately, I can top that. I saw a car yesterday where they allowed the dog to poke his head up through the open roof while in motion. Bad for the dog’s eyes and ears, and let’s not mention how bad it would be should there ever be a crash.
I’ve seen that too. Typical dog behaviour.
Replying as master to a long line of “free range” dogs. The dogs have all been free to partake in all of the open air motoring they desire, or none at all. None ever seemed to overdo it to any detriment.
There was also the always available “jump” option that everyone worried about. None of the dogs ever took that either.
My humble unscientific non-data-driven opinion is that dogs are intelligent enough to know the limits of wind-in-the-face, same as they typically avoid all of the other potential pitfalls in a dog’s life.
Back in the 70’s, i was in the front passenger seat of a VW Beetle on the highway, when I had the impulse to stand up on the seat and stick my head out the sunroof. A few seconds later I glanced left, to see that the driver was doing the same. . .
With all the damned crossovers around popping my head up through the open moonroof is the only way I can see ahead in gridlock!
ROFL!
Good point la673. I think it’s just a matter of artistic convenience or convention…sort of like “three rocks” in Nancy and Sluggo comics. It was the illustrator’s way of calling attention to the fact that there’s a hole in the roof, even though it really should be pretty obvious. In fact, standing so that you fit through the sunroof, even when the car isn’t moving, is awkward and difficult. Poor girl is standing on the seat and trying to position her butt on the back of the bench so that she doesn’t slide off. Anything for art.
And no, you should never allow your dog to put his head out the sunroof. Most dogs are smart enough to know that.
Um, yes. When I was young and – this IS possible – even dumber, I did. Even at just 45 mph or so, one can really notice a draught from somewhere up there – by which I really mean, it nearly took my head off.
Best kept for the babes in the brochures, then.
Chrysler Co. was indeed an early adopter of sunroofs; after the 1969 Charger, they expanded to the Challenger for 1970, B-Body 2 doors, Fury, Chryslers, and Imperial in 1971, and A-bodies as well as the Barracuda for 1972 (as seen in the incorrectly dated photo of Prechter above).
As an aside, I may have owned the last factory offered hand-crank sunroof model sold in the US, a 2001 Ford Focus ZX3. A new and one year only offering, I thought it was strange for a car that otherwise had full power. As such, crank operation was supplanted with a power operated version the following year.
A friend used to have a white ’60 T Bird with a sunroof. I had no idea it was an early one.
Mine might as well be metal, when it’s closed, so’s the shade. The sun from above is more annoying than in a convertible.
I have long maintained that the term “moonroof” was simply Lincoln PR-speak for a sunroof that was glass when there was also a metal sunroof available on the same car. I have come around to the idea that “moonroof” has become generic for “sunroof with a glass panel” but only by grassroots usage rather than any real meaning of either term.
I will dispute one point – the lack of a dome light in the 67 Cougar and T-Bird – I don’t believe that had anything to do with the ASC sunroof being offered. Look at any nicely trimmed hardtop from the mid 1960s and you will be hard pressed to find a traditional dome light mounted in the center of the roof. Our 64 Cutlass, for instance, used twin C pillar lights coupled with lights under the dash up front, and this seemed to be the norm for that period when 2 door hardtops still took a lot of interior cues from convertibles. I don’t believe my 64 Imperial or my 61 Thunderbird 2 door hardtops had a ceiling-mounted dome light either.
It is particularly interesting that ASC got its start from the same German company we discussed yesterday. I can recall that by the mid 70s it was hard to find a midsize or larger car that lacked a sunroof option (especially from Ford and Chrysler), even if the take rate wasn’t terribly high.
The sunroof may not have been the sole reason for the elimination of the dome light, but it certainly played a part.
The Cougar’s platform donor, the Mustang, did have a proper dome light, so it would have been cheaper and easier to reuse it. The previous Thunderbird had a full-length overhead console that was eliminated, at least in part, to accommodate the sunroof.
That didn’t stop Dodge from keeping the dome light in the Dart pictured above.
Also, dome lights reappeared in the mid 70s, sunroof or no, as evidenced by this ’74 T-Bird.
Very enjoyable series. Thinking back now, my 2nd and 3rd cars (both foreign) had steel sunroofs, and my 4th & 5th cars (both domestic Fords) had glass moonroofs. But as of now, I don’t have any sun/moonroof-equipped vehicle. Pity, since I miss it.
I never did see the point of glass moonroofs — the breakable glass panel and the requisite sliding interior screen seem to add unnecessary complexity, and in the years of driving moonroof-equipped vehicles, I never once felt the urge to gaze at the sky through a darkly tinted glass panel. Maybe I’m just grumpy, but I vastly preferred steel sunroofs (written in the past tense since they seem to be nearly extinct now).
When our girls were small we bowed to the inevitable and bought a minivan; a 1999 Honda Odyssey (the first “big” one). During the salesman’s patter he made a point of mentioning that this car had no sunroof so as to guarantee a 5-star safety rating. Since I hadn’t asked about a sunroof, I wondered if this was a way to explain away the lack of one, if there hadn’t been time to engineer it. Given the lack of finished engineering in that vehicle, as we soon discovered (very un-Honda like at the time), I’ve come to think this may have been the real reason.
This is fascinating. Great read, Tom. A sunroof is just one of those features that was always on my wishlist for a car, despite hearing or reading about potential leakage and moisture issues.
Also, I had never seen the Barris Mystique before. That one checks so many boxes for me – like a favorite Hot Wheels come to life!
I concur with Joseph above. Great read, Tom. Sorry so late to the party here.
In a sort-of CC Effect, on Labor Day, the weather here in Maryland was beautiful. So much so, that the wife and I decided to take a drive. Normally, I take Mustang on such cruises, but my wife suggested the Civic, so we could roll the top back and ride with the windows down. We like to do this in the fall, but almost never get the chance in the summer due to the humidity around here.
Later I decided to catch up with CC and read this article and it got me to thinking. When was my first sun/moon-roof car? My ’83 T-Bird was a base model, and I had an aftermarket pop-up installed shortly after I bought it. The ’88 T-Bird LX 5.0 came with all the options, including that one. I seem to remember it being a VERY expensive option back then.
FFWD to 2016, and it’s the 2016 Civic Coupe that I have now that was my next car with a moonroof, not counting cars like my wife’s Lancer, or my ex’s cars. While my Civic is not a base model, it’s not top spec either. Sunroofs seemed to have become ubiquitous in cars just of above the base model. A trickle-down luxury item, I suppose.
My Cairn Terrier Molly also enjoyed the ride, but unlike the conversation above started by Moparlee, Molly is too small to get her head up that high, and is also too smart to stick her head out the window other than at parking lot speeds. She does however enjoy a little “Wind in [her] hair” to paraphrase some Rush lyrics. And while my Civic Coupe is red, it’s not a Red Barchetta, but there I go digressing again. 😉
ASC also did the first Saab 900 Cabriolet, making use of unsold cars.
When I ordered and took delivery of my sunroof equipped ’79 Malibu I had many people tell me that it was a mistake due to leaks. 42 years later it still doesn’t leak. This may be partly due to being stored inside except for one year. The only trouble I had was when it was new and I kept getting water in the trunk every time it rained or I washed it. The dealer finally found that some jerk in the factory had routed one of the drain hoses for the sunroof into the trunk instead of the A pillar. I’ve only seen one other Malibu with a sunroof. I’ve really enjoyed it but I know it has been hard on the lousy GM plastics in the interior. The dash pad, however is still free of cracks.
The roof is powered but there is also a crank in the glove box incase of emergency. I’ve never used it.
By the way, my dome light is in the usual place, the middle of the headliner.
That’s neat.
I don’t recall even “upper crust” Regal, etc. with sliding roof. Not saying they weren’t built, just wasn’t on my radar.
Mustang Rick, you no doubt watched for ’em. Do you recall seeing many others?
I wonder if the roof would clear in ElCamino?
One thing not mentioned is the extra maintenance often required on a sunroof, from keeping the sliding mechanism lubed to clearing out the drain tubes. The latter I neglected to do on my current car, and ended up dousing my sister with stored up water that should have gone down the tubes had they not been blocked. Seems to have worked, no more stored up water.
I’m a fan of the steel (non-moonroof) but they seem to have disappeared. Also don’t mind the crank mechanism, as you probably have to have a backup to close it should the motor fail. Don’t like the idea of the roof failing open and drenching the interior during a rainstorm. Also my (dear departed) youngest sister had 2 cars totalled by hail damage, both cars the moonroof was shattered (not that hail didn’t also damage the metal roof arount the sunroof). We have hail pretty regularly in the spring here, in fact there is a specific day when we tend to get the worst storms (they’ve happened several years on that day, not that we haven’t also had hail on other days). Wouldn’t want to have to go hunting for a glass panel for the roof vs pulling dents out of metal, that could make the difference in the car being totalled (though with high labor cost it seems most non-late-model cars can be totalled fairly easily even with minor cosmetic damage.
Hello. No history of the sunroof/moonroof is complete, without the addition of the accidental injuries and deaths that resulted from sticking your head out the sunroof while the vehicle is in motion.
https://darwinawards.com/darwin/darwin1997-14.html
I came here looking for statistics on injuries, and wondering when the makers switched over to modern designs that do not retract all the way.
–Wendy Northcutt / The Darwin Awards