1964 Checker Brochure: A Delightful Artistic Rendition Of Checkerland

1964 Checker Brochure

Checker promotional materials were usually low-budget, no-nonsense affairs.  This 1964 brochure of non-taxi Checkers, with its high-quality, colorful illustrations, struck a different tone.  No black-and-white car photos cut out and placed over a dreary background here – this six-page brochure presented the brand in a cheery light, perhaps hoping to bring customers into the Checker fold who ordinarily would have overlooked the brand.

Of course, Checker was easy to overlook.  In 1964, the Kalamazoo, Michigan company built only about 6,000 cars – 85 percent of which were taxicabs.  The remaining 15 percent represented more “civilian” vehicles – sedans, wagons and even limousines.  Purchasing a heavy-duty car that looked out of date and was widely associated with yellow taxis wasn’t for everyone, and not surprisingly, Checker buyers were often typecast as nonconformists or thrifty skinflints.  Our featured brochure was published at a time when it seemed that Checker might break out of that mold.  Whether the brochure’s collection of mainstream characters and colorful illustrations was meant to change the brand’s image… or whether it was just a new tack taken by Checker’s advertising agency isn’t clear.  Whatever the motivation, this brochure is a delight to look through.

Morris Markin, c. 1930

A brief history of Checker Motors and its founder, Morris Markin, will set the stage for browsing this brochure – for it’s hard to imagine a car company having a more fascinating history.  Russian-born Markin immigrated to the United States as a teen in 1913, started work at a relative’s Chicago tailor shop, and achieved rapid business success.  After a few years, he purchased the shop.  Eventually, Markin began lending money to other entrepreneurs.  In 1920, he loaned money to a fellow Russian immigrant who owned an auto body shop that made taxicab components.  It was a poor investment, as both the body shop and its main customer went belly-up shortly afterwards.  Markin, however, responded by purchasing the (seemingly worthless) remnants of both companies and formed his own taxi-manufacturing firm in 1921, called Checker Cab Manufacturing Company.  Up to that point, he had no experience with either cars or the taxi business.

1927 Checker

The 1920s was a rough time to be in Chicago’s taxi industry.  Competing companies used mafia-type tactics against each other, with the resulting mess known as the Taxi Wars.  Drivers were roughed up, allegations of wrongdoing flew in all directions, and Markin’s home was firebombed.  Despite all that, Checker prospered, gaining a nationwide reputation for building durable taxis.  Markin soon moved his manufacturing facilities 150 mi. northwest to Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Presumably this got the company away from Chicago crime, but was still close enough so that Markin could look after his remaining business interests there.

Checker became the nation’s leading cab producer, and dominated the important New York taxi market.  The firm achieved a virtual monopoly there by the 1950s because New York City imposed rigid requirements for taxi dimensions, which fit Checker perfectly.

In the mid 1950s, New York City began allowing cabs smaller than Checker’s “jumbo-sized” model, prompting the company to respond with the A-8.  This new car was designed to be similar in size to the Big 3’s standard sedans, with one notable exception… it was a bit taller, which made ingress and egress easier.  By the late 1950s, Detroit’s cars became longer, lower and wider – but Checkers remained the same.  It turned out that shorter, taller and narrower made for a better big-city cab, and once again Checker regained its prominence in New York.  Checker then stood alone as the ideal cab, and the company entered its golden age.

1960 Checker Superba ad

Though this new model was originally offered just as a cab, in 1959 Markin announced Checker would make passenger cars as well.  Figuring that Checker’s reputation for durability would strike a chord with some buyers, he initially expected 16,000 sales per year.  That was quite optimistic; total Checker production never reached half that amount.  Checker’s initial “civilian” model was called the Superba – the Marathon joined the lineup in late 1960, and soon replaced the Superba altogether.

Ads from Checker dealers and the company itself illustrate how the car was marketed to utilitarian customers who valued durability and practicality, and who longed to exit the rat race of annual model changes.  Not enough of such people jumped forward to fulfill Mr. Markin’s sales goals, but there were some noteworthy customers, particularly among New York’s elite.

Nelson Rockefeller bought one, which his wife drove.  Urban Planner Robert Moses owned a Checker, as did well-known New York Bishop Fulton J. Sheen.  In 1964 or 1965, Checker delivered a car to the Vatican, and one to the royal family of Tonga.  The company’s highest-profile special deliveries, however, went to the US State Department.

Ambassador Thompson’s Checker in the Soviet Union

US Ambassador to Moscow Llewelyn Thompson had complained to State Department officials that his Cadillac was “not suitable for the cobblestones and rough roads encountered in the Soviet Union.”  Being friends with the Rockefellers, Thompson had ridden in their Checker and requested that the State Department consider buying Checkers for foreign missions.  In late 1961, the State Department bought two Checker Marathons – equipped with manual transmissions and air conditioning, and outfitted by the Government with glass partitions and fancier-than-stock upholstery.  The government sent one to Moscow for Ambassador Thompson and the other to San Salvador – two places with extreme (and very different) road and climate conditions.

Ambassador Bruce’s Checker in London

The two forerunners must have proven successful, for the State Department ordered many others worldwide.  Among those was a Checker used in the most prestigious of all US diplomatic posts.  The American Ambassador to Britain, David K.E. Bruce, chose a Checker for his personal transport over the customary Cadillac.  Having a Checker represent the United States at the Court of St. James’s was certainly a coup for Kalamazoo.

That brings us to 1964, about the time our featured brochure was published (precise model years weren’t terribly important to Checker buyers).  As a niche automaker, Checker certainly had its victories, but sales of its civilian models plodded along sluggishly.  Checker’s sales pitch was very pragmatic, sometimes with a dose of self-effacing humor.  As an example of pragmatism, the company promoted its policy of “Planned Permanence” (the opposite of planned obsolescence)… making functional, rather than cosmetic, annual changes aimed at improving the car’s longevity.  Most Checker promotional materials were to-the-point, but hardly visually alluring.

1964 Checker Brochure

Maybe someone at Checker realized that even pragmatism needs some pizzaz, or the company’s ad agency recommended a new approach.  Regardless of how this brochure came to be, it stands out as unique among Checker literature.

The brochure’s cover features a white Marathon sedan on a background style common in Americana-inspired advertising of the day.  A couple and their young son are coming out of a mid-century style house in a scene replete with middle-class aspirations… and far removed from Checker’s mainstays of big cities, cabs and nonconformist consumers.  That was very much the point of this brochure: To appeal beyond the company’s existing base.

1964 Checker brochure

On the inside cover is an illustration of a lady sitting in a tan-and-brown Marathon seat.  Again, a fashionable lady with a toy dog wearing a sparkly collar doesn’t exactly declare “Checker Customer!”… yet she and Fluffy are greeting readers as they read about the brand.  A black-and-white photograph of this woman and dog appeared in other Checker literature a few years earlier.  It’s a good testament to frugality; why create a new picture when you already have one in the image library?

This lady’s image was more meaningful than being just a pretty face.  Checker’s customers consisted mostly of men over age 45… and the company knew that marketplace success would be much more likely if their car was more attractive to women.  However, selling the proudly unhip Marathon to women proved challenging.  David Markin (Morris’s son and the company’s vice president) said that a woman is “a Checker salesman’s chief adversary.”  This lady and her dog tried to blunt that image.

The text here promotes Checker’s uniqueness – how it’s different in both shape and inspiration than mass-produced cars.  Checker is “for those who appreciate a different kind of car.”

1964 Checker brochure

Here we have Checker’s mainstay, the Marathon sedan.  Not quite a fixture of the country club set, and as far as I know golf courses don’t like people driving on their grass, but still the illustration is another example of aspirational imagery.  Verbiage here emphasizes Checker’s attributes of durability, maneuverability and excellent packaging for the car’s size.  At the bottom, we’re shown an image of Checker’s optional fold-out auxiliary seats, which transformed a roomy six-passenger sedan into an eight-seater.

1964 Checker brochure

Our brochure sails along from the golf course to the coast for the station wagon page, featuring a couple who look like they stepped out of the cover of a romance novel.  The illustration’s aubergine-colored landscape contrasts somewhat solemnly with the green wagon and the blue water.  Some previous Checker brochures featured a sailing background as well, though this illustration appears original.  The text extols the wagon’s durability and versatile interior layout, while proclaiming “No high fashion flash or dash here – just solid, blue chip soundness and quiet dignity.”

1964 Checker brochure

David Markin praised the Marathon sedan as combining “limousine luxury and Checker stamina,” though Checker sold an actual limousine too.  Offering an extra 9” of wheelbase over the standard Marathon, these cars boasted a cavernous passenger compartment.  The image here depicts a chauffeur-driven Checker Custom Limousine transporting a white-gloved gentleman to a gated estate.  Seeing a rich man depicted in a frugal limo conjures up images of the 1980s commercial for cheap wine where the wealthy man asks “Have you ever wondered how I got so rich?” (Spoiler: By being cheap)  It’s hard, though, to envision this product appealing to many people.

Checker’s copywriters shifted into grandiose mode here, describing the Custom Limousine as “built for those who take pleasure in the uncommon… for those who appreciate the cordiality of interior spaciousness, the excellence of fine custom appointments, and the master craftsmen’s ingenuity…”

Our brochure ends with a specifications page sharing space with Checker’s Aerobus.  The Aerobus stands out here because it wasn’t a “civilian” car, but rather a 9-12 passenger transport vehicle intended for airports, hotels and tour companies.  Or, perhaps, for extremely large families… and it’s a shame that this brochure didn’t illustrate an Aerobus with a dozen kids crawling around it!

No discussion of the Aerobus could be complete with just one photo, so let’s enjoy another image of what was then the world’s longest car.  This particular picture was taken in London, where Checker’s UK representative was having his Aerobus transported to the 1965 London Auto Show, with a few photo opportunities along the way.

Back to our brochure, underneath the Aerobus image is a small feature showing Checker’s available engines.  This is notable because the GM-sourced V-8 was new for 1964 (a $110 option, made available during the model year).  While previous Checkers came with 6-cylinder engines that were fine for cab duty, the Markins thought that the lack of a V-8 put the brand at a disadvantage in the non-taxi market.  Morris Markin hoped that the V-8 “will create new interest in the heavy-duty trailer-towing market, with sportsmen, and police departments.”

1964 Checker Brochure

Overall, this brochure was an interesting departure for Checker’s typically staid promotional materials.  The colorful artwork, however, had little effect on the company’s sales.  Non-taxi Checker sales never reached Markin’s early goals, and the Marathon remained very much a niche vehicle until production ceased in 1982.  This brochure, however, presents an interesting artist’s rendition of what might have been – a Checker lineup with mass-market appeal.  An unlikely scenario, but one that’s illustrated very well.