(originally posted 3/9/22) Every once in a while, one is privileged to encounter something so special, it’s jarring. Like a rare flower growing in a landfill or an original Picasso accidently sold in a thrift store, encountering a car from 1941 anywhere is unusual, even most car shows. Finding one parked on the street is next-level special. The strange sense I got was that time had warped around this beautiful car.
The curbside spot it’s parked at is on an old street, going back well before 1941, but in a section of the city near downtown that has redeveloped and gentrified such that there is practically nothing left from 1941 except perhaps the curb itself. Almost everything in the pictures here, including the skyscrapers, is much more recent, but the car looks like it was parked there in 1942. The world moved on while it got stuck here in a moment waiting for its owner to come sauntering back wearing his fedora, smoking a Camel and whistling the latest Glenn Miller tune.
Apart from the sense of anachronism, I was taken by the car itself and how very fetching it is. My personal contact with 1940’s cars is almost entirely limited to automotive events, and I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one randomly parked on the street. I’m not old enough to have a personal connection with the Prewar automotive era, but the period is an interesting one because it’s easy to forget just how rapidly cars were changing in that span between the world wars.
1928 Chevrolet line
The first Chevrolets were made in 1912 and after a tumultuous first several years, the company settled into its home as General Motors’ entry-level car around 1920. The mid 20’s saw the emergence of a car recognizable as having Chevy’s now-familiar persona of a budget car offering a bit more style and content. In 1925, it was the first low-priced car to offer Duco paint in multiple colors. In 1927, it adopted a more elaborate grille shape, rounded fenders, and “bullet” shaped headlight buckets. 1928 saw a new larger body, with (what would become) the long-running “Stovebolt” overhead valve six replacing the four-cylinder engine for 1929. Along with the rest of the industry, Chevrolet went from being a very blocky, upright car containing wood framing in the body in 1930 to being a significantly larger, rounded and streamlined all-steel-bodied car by 1940.
1940 Chevrolet
Mechanical advances were numerous during the 1930’s as well. A not-even-close-to-exhaustive list on Chevrolets includes: Hydraulic shock absorbers (1930). Synchromesh transmission (1932). Interior ventilation system (1933). Independent front suspension (1934). Hydraulic brakes (1936, four wheel brakes had come in 1928). Stovebolt engine upgrades (1934 and redesign in 37).
The 1941 Chevrolet looked somewhat similar to the 1940, but looks are deceiving as it was revised to the point that I believe it could be considered a new generation. The bodies were virtually all new on a chassis that was mostly carryover but widened. Though subtly sleeker (e.g. note the increased windshield rake), the size of the car was the biggest change, so to speak.
The new model added 3 inches in wheelbase and length, an inch in width and lost an inch in height (longer, lower, wider!). The new body gained even more interior width in the passenger area by expanding over the running boards, adding 3 inches to the bench seat.
To get a sense of how much cars had grown in the prewar period, comparing 1941 to 1927, the car had a 13 inch longer wheelbase plus a whole lot more overhang front and rear. 1941’s 3130lb sedan was 855lb heavier. The 26hp propelling the 1927 car had grown to 90hp for 1941.
Financially speaking, it is remarkable that 1941’s least expensive sedan ($795) was only $100 more than 1927’s, (price would drop for 1928 and keep dropping through 1933). On a weight basis, that’s 38% more car for 14% more money, and you were getting an almost immeasurably more refined, reliable, better-engineered car.
1940 Buick Super
The larger 1941 Chevrolet was part of the division’s strategy of offering more value, trying to become a sort of “baby Buick”. The front end looks a whole lot like it’s aping the 40/41 Buick. The upsized 1941 Chevy had only a 5in shorter wheelbase than the base Buicks. And in a move that foreshadowed the introduction of the Caprice 24 years later, midyear Chevrolet brought out a new flagship four-door sedan: the Fleetline.
Initially a submodel of the top Special Deluxe series, the Fleetline was behind only the Special Deluxe convertible and wagon in price. The main feature of the Fleetline was its body style, a five-window four-door sedan. With the midyear introduction of this style, Chevy was the final GM division to jump into what would be the dominant sedan body style in the near future.
1938 Cadillac Sixty Special
The style was introduced on the 1938 Cadillac Sixty Special, Bill Mitchell’s first wave-making design. The car had vent panes in the rear window rather than separate rear quarter windows and a more pronounced, distinct coupe-like trunk in what could be considered the first “three box” or “notchback” American sedan design. For 1940, the style migrated to top or near-top of the line models for Buick (Roadmaster and Super), Oldsmobile (Custom Cruiser), Pontiac (Torpedo Eight), and even LaSalle in its final year (Special).
The 1938 Sixty Special is also famous for being the first American sedan by a major manufacturer to appear without running boards (after the obscure Ruxton in 1929-30 and the unforgettable but low-volume 36-37 Cord), a feature all these new sedans would also have, though running boards were quickly evolving out of existence industry-wide. All Chevy cars had concealed running boards for 1941, just having a shallow body flare out at the rocker panels over where the running boards would be. Chevy’s Fleetline would become its own model range for 1942 and add the Aerosedan, a fastback two-door.
Oh, there’s something in the background that looks like it was there in 1941! 1930, actually, I looked it up.
Getting back to our beautiful feature coupe, it’s a Special Deluxe, the higher of the two model ranges that year. The lower range was called Master Deluxe, which confuses me, since a Master is supposed to be the boss, certainly over his Special brother. Over at Buick, Special was the entry-level line while the Roadmaster was the top dog (not counting the Limited semi-limousines). And if all models are “Deluxe”, does the term retain any meaning?
The interior is as appealing as the exterior. The 3-inch-wider bench seat, in combination with the column shifter, makes three passengers in the front seat plausibly comfortable. The black pedal to the right of the accelerator is the starter button. The white plastic knob above the speedometer is the wiper switch. 1940 was the first year Chevrolet used any of the new-fangled material plastic in its interiors. The vacuum-operated column shifter made its debut as an option in 1939 and became standard in 1940.
The dashboard looks quite posh for a Chevrolet, to my eyes at least. Perhaps that’s because while the exterior styling clearly borrowed some inspiration from Buick (i.e. copied), the interior looks like the designers peeked at the test answers of another division. The driver gets a highly symmetrical dash with temperature, ammeter, and oil pressure gauges. The dash also has knobs to manually adjust choke, throttle and octane (adjust the ignition timing to match your gasoline). I was surprised to find out the car came with an interior hood release, a security feature some cars decades newer didn’t have.
The Special Deluxe models get a horn ring, a handsome stem-wind clock to match the speedometer, 4 bright trim strips outboard of the speedometer/clock, and a generous amount of metal trim painted to look like wood. I’ve always found this variety of imitation wood to be more attractive than the plastic wood used in later decades. From what I’ve been able to gather, radios weren’t a factory option, but were available as a dealer-installed accessory to mount in the dash. The cost to be able to hear the flash news reports of the bombing of Pearl Harbor while driving was $25 for a basic 5-tube model and up to $60 for an 8-tube deluxe model rivaling the power and sound of a nice home unit. That calculates to $478 and $1,150 in 2022 dollars!
The 1941 coupe with a back row is officially called the Five-Passenger Coupe, upgraded in title from 1940 when it was called the Four-Passenger Coupe, owing to the increased width of the interior. What I can’t figure out is why it is Five and not Six. The back seat is smaller than the sedans’, but presumably the leg room is what’s limited more than the width as the brochure specifically asserts that it’s a full-width rear seat. And it’s not like it had seat belts to tell people how many passengers it was officially supposed to have. I’m certain many a Five-Passenger Coupe has carried six passengers over the years, plus a couple in the trunk if a drive-in movie was the destination.
The engine is beauty in simplicity. Modern engines may have lots more features, power and durability, but modern mechanics can only fantasize about having so much space and accessibility.
To compensate for the weight gained with the 1941’s growth, the 216.5 cubic inch ohv six gained 5 h.p. to give it 90 h.p. (@3300rpm) and 174 lb-ft torque (@1200rpm), a benefit of a number of detail improvements such as reshaped combustion chamber (giving it 6.5:1 compression over the old 6.25:1), new smaller but more efficient/durable spark plugs, improved coil and ignition points, and improved water pump.
Trunk space is pretty large. A couple of cozy unticketed drive-in moviegoers could definitely fit back there. Coupes and convertibles had a tray over the spare while sedans had the spare mounted upright on the left, both intentional so the spare could be used without having to remove all the contents.
My impression of a car eternally stuck in a time warp didn’t last for long, as the owner came back to the car and he was not in fact dressed like an artifact from the Big Band era. He was a 21st century classic car lover who had recently purchased the Chevy. He was quite friendly and gave me free reign to photograph the car and write about it on Curbside Classic. The car was completely restored in the 1980’s and still looks fantastic.
Though plenty attractive from the factory, at some point this car was the recipient of seemingly the entire Chevrolet accessory catalog. So far I’ve spotted a trunk guard (the tall appendage in the center of the bumper), front and rear bumper guards, back up lights, tailpipe extension, wheel trim rings, larger wheel discs (with the red slots surrounding the stock-style hubcaps), chrome rear fender guard (the trim piece forward of the wheel opening, stock is black rubber), front fender trim (slatted chrome behind the wheel opening), fog lights, side window rain guards, electric turn signals, and hood ornament figure.
Presumably whitewall tires would have been optional, but the brochure doesn’t show any cars with whitewalls nor mention them as available and they aren’t in the accessory catalog linked above. Did Chevy dealers offer to install them on new cars? Owners may have been on their own to buy them from a tire dealer, which wouldn’t have been hard since original period tires probably wouldn’t have lasted more than a year or two of typical use anyway.
One other building at the end of the block on the left is circa 1941 (built 1938).
The Chevy soon drove off and time re-synced. This little oasis of unusualness was gone and the block was back to its regular boring modern automotive background.
The new body/chassis changes for 1941 would last through 1948, though the 42 model would have significant styling changes in the front fenders, hood, and grille (with 46-48 models having only minimal revisions) giving the 1941 Chevy one-year-only styling. They sold just over one million passenger cars that year, a feat they had only previously achieved in 1927-29 and wouldn’t again until 1949.
Many prewar Chevy enthusiasts consider 1941 a special year, both because of it’s unique, attractive shape and, of course, since it was the last full model year before World War II totally disrupted the industry. The world may have left 1941 well behind it, but this Chevy continues to bring a sense of that time to everyone fortunate enough to encounter it.
Photographed August 17, 2020 in Houston, TX.
Related reading: There ain’t much as this is the first 41 Chevy car featured on Curbside Classic. I mentioned Duco paints, and if you haven’t read it, J.P. Cavanaugh wrote a fascinating series on car paint history – Automotive History: The Long Road To The White Car (Part 1)
He also did a nice article covering this generation of Buicks – Curbside Classic Double Feature: 1941 Buick Super and 1948 Buick Roadmaster – The Look Of Success
Paul covered the first and second generation Chevy Fleetline – Cohort Classic: 1949 Chevrolet Fleetline Special Two Door Sedan – Your Choice Of Fastback or Notchback
You have an excellent point about the rapid progress in automobiles between the two world wars.
A few years ago I found a 1937 Chevrolet sitting at a mechanic’s shop. While I have yet to write it up, the changes in the four years between 1937 and 1941 are visually quite significant. The biggest point is the physical size – the ’37 was the same approximate size as a Pontiac G-something parked next to it. Plus, there was no way one would get three regular sized people in the front of the ’37.
Many automotive changes happened during the 1940s, but these certainly seem to be the quintessential 1940s American car.
This is a wonderful find and an excellent writeup! You are right that there are few thrills for people like us hereabouts than finding a car of this era out and about in the wild. They are fascinating to contemplate all on their own, without a dozen other fascinating classics within 50 feet of it.
This hits another chord with me, as a 41 Chevy coupe was my mother’s first car. She graduated high school in 1951 and headed to nursing school later that year. She got a hand-me-down car from her 5-year older cousin, who was the son of a doctor and who had probably taken it to college himself. She drove that Chevy until she graduated and got a job in 1954, when she bought a used 53 Chevy.
She remembered the odd shifter on the vacuum-assisted shift and also the vacuum wipers. It must have seemed like real luxury, as it was not until her high school graduation year that her own family finally replaced a 1935 Ford sedan with a new Kaiser. That 41 Chevy coupe would have seemed (to me at least) as a huge leap forward from a car only 7 years older.
I agree that these are simply beautiful cars. It was far more of a looker than anything else in its class, and surely as pretty as many cars costing far more.
Thanks. I absolutely agree a 41 Chevrolet would have seemed far more modern than a 35 model anything. By the early 50’s, though, it would have seemed archaic. However, the change from 41 to 53 probably wouldn’t have seemed as great as from 35 to 41, especially from inside the car.
The view through the car to the classic Bungalow is a perfect time warp. I can almost see the time tunnel glowing!
From 41 to 46, GM also offered a shortwave car radio so you could listen to London or Berlin or Tokyo. Americans in WW2 were strongly encouraged to hear both sides. Now we jam the other side.
I vaguely remember my father having a Chevy from this ere, but it was a fastback.
Can’t say if I remember shortwave radios in cars, but could be wrong. I also don’t recall Americans being “strongly encouraged” to hear both sides during WW II. That would be like Americans wanting to listen to Russian media reports about the Ukraine.
I’ve studied World War Two since I was a kid and developed a fascination with history. I have never read about any strong encouragement to listen to Tokyo Rose or Lord Haw-Haw. None. If they were listened to, it was never officially prohibited but you would be seen as strange for doing that.
The news, mail, and radio were heavily censored to avoid giving the enemy information and to keep morale up here. Warship loses were not immediately released.
I don’t know what manner of political point you’re trying to make, but we don’t do politics here. Stop.
My grandparents had a black 1940 Chevrolet Special Deluxe coupe when I was a child. They had a number of antique cars, but this one was kept to the last. It was my grandmother’s favourite.
My grandfather restored it in the 1970s and won quite a few trophies at the local car shows. It still had the original radio mounted on the floor.
When my grandfather passed away in the early 90’s, a relative inherited the car and sold it almost immediately to pay off some debts. The rest of the family wouldn’t speak to him for years, that car was so important to them.
I have never heard of the Chev vacuum assisted gearchange. How interesting. Here’s ’38 GM film about it (fast-forward to about 5 mins), narrated by a very shouty man. The video also makes clear the reason for that old aphorism about column shifts – they’re a very complicated way of doing a very simple job.
Did this system last post-war? I can forsee some likely problems if it leaked, such as not being able to budge the little lever. Also, I wonder if hard acceleration meant second might be very hard to get (or third), because vacuum was depleted by a wide-open throttle.
Great post, btw. That resto in the ’80’s must’ve been top-dollar, as it still looks fresh and very detailed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GB9hgWwoP-U&ab_channel=USAutoIndustry
AFAIK it lasted through the end of the ’41-48 generation but the ’49s reverted to an all-mechanical linkage.
The ’80s coincided with the peak-earning/empty nest years of the generation who grew up aspiring to these cars so it was probably prime time for top dollar restorations on these. Too, classic-car restorations in that era tended to aim for showroom freshness or better with less regard to the idea that “it’s only original once” than later decades brought.
I drove a vacuum shift chevy for years, fool proof with a little maintainence. You shift with two fingers.
Thanks for the video, it’s great! I added a link into the article. Nifty history of science harnessing the wonders of vacuum and it’s application in the modern advanced Chevrolets. Today we might say the scientist would do well to wear gloves when handling mercury.
The lady looks like she’s having a blast driving the 39 Chevy around (with effortless shifting!).
As to the lack of optional whitewall tires in the brochure: There were no factory options back then; they just didn’t exist. Cars came as specified based on their trim level. That streamlined production. There were no automatics, power steering, engine choices, a/c, etc. All options were dealer installed back then, including whitewalls.
What comes around goes around, it seems. The modern industry is getting back to that model of no free standing options, just choose your trim level.
As to the “5-passenger coupe” designation, the brochure clearly says that up to three can fit in the back, although that would be cozy, given the seats shorter cushion and less legroom compared to the sedan. I think it’s pretty obvious that they didn’t call it a 6-passenger is because of the split front seat back, which really wasn’t conducive to being considered a proper place to sit, although of course folks did so, if necessary.
Good point, I hadn’t thought about the passenger limiting factor being the split front seat. They don’t specify how many passengers the 2 door sedans and convertible are rated for, but presumably those would be five as well. In the 1942 brochure they say the 2 door Town and Aero sedans hold six passengers, and still call the Coupe Five Passenger.
It’s “brochure-speak”, not to be taken too literally. There was no formal criteria for how many could be seated in a car.
I grew up with a ’41 Master Deluxe Town Sedan (the 2-door sedan) that became my car in high school (circa 1970). I’m guessing that it had a dashboard transplant from a ’48; the trim was different, but everything was in the same place. I remember well the starter pedal, setting the choke for starting, and adjusting the hand throttle for good idle while warming up. I don’t think the car had the vacuum-assisted shift, though; maybe my dad or a previous owner removed it. I didn’t find it hard to shift, though. The back seat had legroom to rival my dad’s old ’47 Fleetwood. I’ll never forget those vacuum-operated wipers, and how they would quit just when I needed the windshield clear, and how they would flail madly back and forth when I let up on the gas.
Sounds like a faithful old girl, but it certainly seems that electric wipers were a big advance later.
Some prewar cars did have electric wipers. I had a 1940 Packard 110 that did, albeit they were one speed only. Some Chrysler products also had them, but I’m not sure about the dates. Driving slowly in the rain, with lights and defroster and headlights also on (not to mention an 8 tube radio!), would have taxed the generators of the day, as they had a fairly low output, so in that limited sense vacuum wipers might have even been advantageous.
The windshield washer on the pictured car must have been a very rare accessory. As late as 1952, a movie was made (“The Moon Is Blue”) where one of the characters gushes about it as an amazing gadget.
Great writeup!
GM finally went electric in 1959. I think many GM management must have owned Trico stock.
Loved the car, pictures, and writeup. Like you related, cars from this era really don’t register with me compared to cars built just a decade later, but the beauty of this one is undeniable. Not a bad angle anywhere. And that trunk does look huge! Loved that it was engineered that the spare tire could be accessed with minimal disruption to contents in the back.
Thanks! My impression is that the 41 was really quite a well designed car for its time and price point. GM was really starting to grab its leadership role by then.
I spent six years riding shotgun in a 41 Master Deluxe five passenger coupe and later four years driving its 1953 equivalent and my feeling is that the 53 didn’t seem all that less antiquated than the 41, apart from the Powerglide I suppose. I was too young to remember much about the 41 and can recall only real one breakdown, a failure to shift into gear after a breakfast stop one morning. My father acquired it about 1943 when he traded in his 38 Ford with bad tires in on the Chevvie with better tires. About 1950 it was sold for modest a price to a relative and saw at least some further service with him. The 53 model was eleven years old when I first saw it and it gave me good service. My feeling was that it was well built and finished and probably had looked rather nice when new.
I love the stories from guys with personal experience with these prewar cars!
Soo soo beautiful.
Great write-up! Ironically, the only 1940s-era car I’ve seen in an everyday setting was very similar — a maroon 1947 Stylemaster that I found in a parking lot, and wrote up here a few years ago.
For me, the styling of that car was more impressive when viewed outside the context of a car show or museum, where one would typically find such a car. It’s a great design, and I could certainly see someone 80 years ago being quite proud to own one.
This one looks beautiful — I hope the new owner enjoys it for many years to come.
My piano teacher in 1970 had in his garage a ’38 Dodge that had a huge, curved rear end like this coupe, and I remember it as a darker maroon. It may have been the first prewar car I saw up close. His daily driver was a fintail Mercedes.
What a beauty .
-Nate
The 1941 hi-line Chevy was really a nice car. It looked as good as the higher line GM cars of that year and had many features of those cars. I can’t remember the series name designations but the top line Chevy of ’41 almost seemed like a Buick in it’s looks and comforts.
Top of the line was Special Deluxe. The standard models were Master Deluxe. According to the Standard Catalog, for about $60 extra the Special Deluxe came with the series name in block letters on the hood, a deluxe steering wheel with horn ring, stainless steel hood moldings, stainless steel window reveal moldings, a chrome-plated license plate lamp, better upholstery, and arm rests on the front doors
I didn’t see any mention of a heater. Was that an option or not yet common in that era? This Chevy looks like it would be very nice to drive. A somewhat high seating position and seats that appear to be comfortable. And that it’s a manual transmission.
No, heater/defrosters were optional at extra cost. This was true for quite some time, into the Sixties I think?
I think the heater/defroster was optional through the ’50s. An uncle of mine once owned a ’56 Pontiac, he once told me the heater was an extra cost option.
I’m all but certain that outside mirror is an aftermarket accessory, too. At least no one stuck fender skirts and a spotlight on it.
Yes, it’s listed in the dealer accessory catalog linked in the article.
What a lovely car and I’m glad it’s being enjoyed. The owner must spend all of their time talking to people interested in the car. I’d put a violin case on the rear seat, as a finishing touch.
Back in the 60s my friend and I found a couple of cars of this vintage in the woods. I think one was a Chevy, or Buick like this one, definitely a GM car. I recall telling my parents we found a 1942 or ’43 Chevy not knowing there was no passenger vehicle production those years due to WWII. There was also a knob on the steering wheel, I believe a somewhat common aftermarket add-on to assist with the non-power steering,
Interesting heaters were optional back then.
As an artist I always wanted to do a painting of my mother based on a b&w photo in her scrapbook of her posing with her boyfriend’s 1940 Chevy. In 1998 I acquired a gorgeous 1941 Chevy Special Deluxe Sedan (same color as the one in the article). One day I parked it along the village green for a setting relating to my mom’s life (hometown in Connecticut). I added a lot of things relating to the beginning of the war (including my dad in uniform in the background- they were not together at the time). I love the look of the churches reflected in the car. Here’s the art, 26 x 28 inches acrylic on canvas.