A few years ago, I wrote a series of articles extolling the virtues of the “twenty-footer,” a car that’s presentable but worn-in; in other words, an old car that is being used or could be used as a daily driver. While I like to keep my fleet looking good down to ten feet or so at least, I’m no stranger to the appellation (the Dirty Dart is alive and well after twelve years of ownership) and have always appreciated a car with character. But what happens when that twenty-footer is parked, perhaps in a temporary carport…or worse? What happens when a twenty-footer becomes a thirty-footer…or worse? Hyperpack has snapped some pictures for the Cohort that shows a 1962 Mercury Monterey that is trapped in the balance.
One of the cars I wrote about four years ago was this ’62 Monterey Custom that I found parked at a local business. It was approaching 30-footer status at the time, and it hasn’t gotten any better since then. I recently saw it at the exhaust shop; the owner dropped it off for a pair of chrome side pipes and then slapped a $9,999 price tag on it and posted it on Marketplace. Because of this, I did learn that it has the 220-horsepower 352, which means that at least it will keep up with traffic, albeit at 12 miles per gallon (give or take).
Hyperpack’s car is worse for wear than even the current iteration of “my” Monterey. The rear bumper may give us a clue as to why it was parked, but seriously, who affixes a “Bar’s Leaks” bumper sticker to anything? That backstory would be more intriguing than the car’s.
Like the car I posted in the link above, this is a Monterey Custom, which was about a $250 step up from a standard Monterey. The extra money bought a little more luxury inside and a little more trim outside, and the upcharge didn’t hurt sales. Four-door sedans outsold their base counterparts 27,591 to 18,975, while in the four-door hardtop lineup, Customs like this Pacific Blue (or something similar) example trounced the regular Monterey 8,389 to a measly 2,691.
Despite the lavish lifestyle presented in the 1962 Mercury brochure, customers simply didn’t flock to their Lincoln-Mercury dealers to buy the Ford-based Monterey, regardless of trim level. But honestly, why would they? A Galaxie 500 arguably had cleaner styling and cost about $200 less than a Monterey Custom, and it showed in final production numbers. While only 11,623 Monterey and Monterey Custom four-door hardtops left Mercury lots, Ford moved 30,778 Town Victorias (which were only available in the Galaxie 500 line). The numbers were even worse for sedans: 46,566 Montereys and Monterey Customs compared to a whopping 289,789 Galaxie sedans in all trim lines.
As I often mention when analyzing buyer trends from 60 or 70 years ago, however, none of that is important to today’s collectors. The Monterey isn’t the kind of car one seeks; one buys a Monterey because of coincidence or opportunity. Chances are that buyers see a cool, kitschy, inexpensive old car that uses Ford parts. Even though jet- and rocket-based styling was winding down in 1962, the Mercury’s taillights are works of industrial art, even if they aren’t in the best of taste. (And like the taillight on the white example in my link, they are susceptible to hazards.)
Just about any 1950s or 1960s American car is enjoyable to walk around, even if it’s only to soak in the details. The first time is best; smart little fender pods (were they turn signals?) blend in once you grow accustomed to seeing your Mercury every day, but they deserve a second glance because someone cared enough to put them there. Like the gargoyles on an ancient cathedral, the details these days simply don’t earn the sweat they once did.
Yes, the Monterey has some neat styling touches that might excite someone looking for an offbeat four-door collector car today, but perhaps another reason they didn’t sell better when new was not only because the Galaxie looked subjectively better than the Monterey, but also because it didn’t look different enough. Ford seemed to learn their lesson in 1965, when the Mercury took on more of a unique appearance from the big Fords, and even the ’63 and ’64 models had distinctive features such as the Breezeway roof, but the ’62s? Even this door “skeg” was shared with the Galaxie Town Victoria, and the C-pillar emblem could easily be found on a Ford.
That was often Mercury’s problem throughout its long life, and it’s been discussed here at Curbside Classic plenty. There’s no going back and saving Mercury, no matter how many times we try to make sense of their product planning decisions, but what we can do is try to save all the Montereys we can. While this blue car may not be for sale and the white one may be priced a touch optimistically, there are plenty of old Mercs out there for our appraisal. Let’s make sure they don’t become thirty-footers. Or forty-footers.
Related CC reading:
Curbside Classic: 1962 Mercury Monterey Custom Sedan – The Twenty-Footer, Part II
I’m intrigued by the rear door’s “Hofmeister kink”. Was it literally “bolted on” the four-door hardtops?
Look at any Ford 4 door hardtop between 1957 and 1963. That triangular appendage was apparently the cheapest way to make the window fit down into the door when it was rolled down. Only in 1964 did Ford incorporate that feature into the door skin, and starting in 1965 they took the traditional approach of moving the leading edge of the C pillar a couple of inches forward in the way that GM had been doing from the start.
Oh, right. Thanks so much.
Cars in this condition are maddening to me. Almost everything on the car is in good condition for its age, and would allow it to be driven down the road (presuming that the mechanicals are in decent order). But not one thing on this car is really presentable. Every single chrome plated diecasting needs to be replaced or have massive work done on it in order to replate it. It needs paint. It needs upholstery. And who knows what else, including probably every piece of chrome interior hardware. And a car like this does not justify even a tenth of the expense it would take to bring this car back to a good solid No. 2. And so, it sits.
Right now it is a solid Grade 4 and I don’t think the money spent to get it to a Grade 2 would net you a positive. Being a Mercury that would be a negative in all the soft parts and trim. Yet people have tried by “slapping” stuff on.
Fascinating car. As mentioned, all the little “add on” bits there for one to appreciate. I really enjoy the Mercs from this era.
A shame that this car got to the point where it’s not worth restoring. Saddens me.
Hyperpack finds some good things for the luminary authors at CC to write about! 😀
Who knows, this car, being past restoration, is okay with me.
I am happy that it continues to exist in any form. If it didn’t exist as it is, it might just be turned into recycled steel, which would be used in your next new refrigerator!!
I would, however, be a bit happier if I saw it out on the road as I was driving one of my ’62 Valiants one day.
Yes, and he should keep them coming! Variety is a good thing! 🙂
I always thought this was the ugliest rear design ever.
Overall, this example is in pretty good shape. It’s not wrecked, and all the trim looks to be in place. The paint and chrome are “saveable.” It could be extensively cleaned, the paint polished and waxed, and a nice set of seat covers would do wonders inside. A lot depends on it’s mechanical condition. It doesn’t warrant a real restoration, just a fixing up.
But it’s still just a plebian “more door.” Nothing sexy here. Most guys looking for a collector car are looking for a car that sends a specific message about a specific period in time. A cool Fifties cruiser, something from the 1940’s or earlier, a muscle car clone, a pony car, or maybe even a personal luxury car like a T Bird or Riviera.
As was stated, cars like this Mercury are bought when someone sees it offered at an attractive price and thinks that it would be kinda cool to have an unusual, off beat, old car. A car of this type can be an affordable way to get into the vintage car scene, and have something to take to a Cars and Coffee. I’d bet it would be the only one there! At one time I was vehemently anti sedan. Now in my dotage I’ve come to appreciate any old car, especially if it is still in close to it’s original condition.
Twenty footers are quite acceptable to me, as the overall impression that a car conveys is more important than achieving perfection.
Well said. There are still affordable ways to get into the hobby, and I think there are more people who think the way you and I do about a car’s condition than you’d think based on what you see.
My ’93 Grand Marquis is a 20-footer … it’ll be a 10-footer when I take care of the peeling clear coat. My ’93 F-150 is a 30-footer … it’ll be a 10-footer after a can of Rust-Oleum and a roller.
Ahem! The 1961 Dodge Polara believes it deserves consideration.
I like this car more than I should .
I agree, it’d be the only one wherever you drove it .
-Nate