(First posted December 5, 2012) In 1953, my grandfather, Albert, was 29 years old; his younger brother, Clem, was 24. They were on a joint mission, which involved Clem’s 1950 Pontiac Chieftain Eight, to go retrieve their older sister, Stella.
Stella, who was getting a divorce, needed help transporting her belongings and her dog, Sparky, back to their mother’s house. Clem volunteered himself and Albert to go get Stella.
Their challenge? Their mother lived just south of Cape Girardeau, Missouri, and Stella was in Enid, Oklahoma. Clem, always the more impulsive brother, said it was no step for a stepper. At the time, he didn’t fully grasp the idea of a 562-mile trip on the typically low-speed, two-lane roads of 1953.
Clem had owned the Pontiac about eight months, acquiring it from someone who’d bought his cattle but suddenly could not or would not pay up. Eventually the buyer offered up the Pontiac as payment, shortly after Clem injected the phrase “ass whoopin'” into their conversation. So far, Clem was quite satisfied with it.
Before I go further into this sordid tale, you need to know a little more about Clem. He was impulsive, but even more quick-tempered. For instance, when I was about 13, I went to Clem’s with Grandpa Albert, who was going to help him vaccinate some of his cattle. One of the heifers possessed an independent streak and was highly uncooperative. Clem got mad and punched the cow right in the face.
On the flip side, Clem had a heart of gold, and would give you the shirt off his back. Being a person who’d do anything for you, he was highly attentive to many things, especially animals. My grandmother, Iris, told me about the time an Irish Setter was making a really weird noise at a family function outdoors. Clem dropped what he was doing, ran over to the dog and, realizing it was choking, picked it up and performed the Heimlich Maneuver. The dog lived to hunt another day.
Since Albert and Clem worked different shifts, the plan was for Albert to get Clem’s Pontiac, pick up Clem, and then drop south on US 61 to US 60 at Sikeston and head west. The trip west was fairly uneventful, with Clem doing the bulk of the driving. While driving through the Ozarks, Clem was quite pleased that the steep hills didn’t tax the Pontiac’s 268 cu in, 108 hp flat head straight-eight too greatly.
Their only stops were for fuel and occasional bladder relief; they were in their 20’s, after all. Albert discovered that the Pontiac’s back seat made for surprisingly good accommodations, something that Clem was eager to discover for himself.
Their conversation was light, with Clem periodically wondering aloud if Stella still had “that yappy flea-bag dog.”
The Pontiac’s Silver Streak straight-eight ran flawlessly all the way to Enid. They knew the Pontiac was quite comfortable, and emerged from their time in the car only lightly fatigued. Clem was even thinking of taking his wife on a trip in it in the near future.
When Albert and Clem arrived in Enid, Stella’s packed suitcases were waiting on the front porch and she was ready to go. After loading the car, Clem realized the trunk was too full for Sparky to be there, and Stella said she would hold him on her lap. Clem, though leery, had no alternative.
In short order they were eastbound from Enid, with the Pontiac loaded to the gills. Albert was driving, Stella was riding shotgun, and Clem was lounging in the back seat. About an hour into the trip, just after Albert had aggressively passed some slow drivers, Sparky decided he didn’t like sitting with Stella, He proceeded to dive to the floor, right next to Albert’s feet, and lay down in front of the brake pedal.
Without saying a word, Albert reached down and dragged out a loudly protesting Sparky by the tail.
“Stella, if that dog is going to ride with us, you need to hold onto him. I won’t be so nice next time,” Albert explained. Candor among siblings can be so refreshing.
Stella was able to hold onto the dog–for a while. A few minutes later, he hopped atop the Pontiac’s front seat. Albert was uncertain about what was going to happen, but he knew he didn’t like it.
AAARRR, AAARRR, AAARRR. Sparky was barking right into Albert’s right ear.
Stella, embarrassed, grabbed Sparky, whom Albert was now ready to throw out the window. Clem, who had been asleep, yelled, “What’s going on?”
Stella grabbed Sparky and held him close to her chest. “Boys, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into Sparky. He’s never been this way before,” she stammered. She held Sparky close for about a half-hour, refusing to let him move.
A little while later, after darkness had fallen, Stella and Clem fell asleep. Sparky decided to go on another adventure, this time in the Pontiac’s back seat.
Sparky had gotten wise to Albert seeing him, so found a way to sneak into the backseat from the passenger side. He stood on the floorboard and looked Clem right in the face.
AAARRR, AAARRR, AAARRR. Sparky was talking loudly to Clem.
“Sparky! That’s not nice!”, exclaimed the now-awake Stella.
Clem’s eyes focused on little Sparky.
Twenty minutes later, after Clem and Stella had again fallen asleep, Sparky returned to the back seat for a repeat performance.
This time, Clem’s plan was crystal-clear. They were coming into a town, so he knew the timing was perfect. “Albert,” Clem said, “you look hungry. I’ve got a five-dollar bill that will solve that if you can find us a restaurant. Stella, do you mind going inside to get us some burgers? I’ll need to stretch my legs.”
Albert knew exactly what Clem was thinking. Stella did not.
Albert soon found a greasy spoon and parked the Pontiac beside it, just beyond any direct light. Stella went inside.
Clem was hot. “Albert, where’s that little son of a bitch at? That bastard needs an education. Did you know he even tried to take a leak on the door panel before we left Enid?”
Sparky, no dummy himself, knew something was up just after Stella vacated the Pontiac. After some growling and lunging, Clem had Sparky in a head lock. Albert stepped out of the car to smoke a cigarette while Clem proceeded to give Sparky a crash course in Obedience 101.
Grandpa Albert said Sparky was a very good student, and Clem an effective teacher. Sparky was quiet and well-behaved for the rest of the trip. He also steered clear of Clem for the next five years.
Stella was never the wiser. Later on, by the mid-80’s, Stella had remarried and acquired another dog, Sandy. A trip I took with them is a story for another day.
But what about Clem’s Pontiac?
Twenty-four years old in 1953, Clem wasn’t the typical Pontiac owner. This was a decade before Pontiac adopted its signature performance image, and current Pontiacs were seen as senior Chevrolets.
Like many other makes, Pontiacs had been completely restyled for 1949. Although their only obvious difference was a new grille and rearranged side trim, the 1950 Pontiacs weren’t exactly carryover models. The big news was under the hood of eight-cylinder models: Pontiac had bored out their straight eight another 20 cubes, to 268 cubic inches, for an additional four horsepower.
At 305,000 inits, sales of the ’49 models had been respectable, but they paled in comparison with the record-breaking 1950 model year. For 1950, Pontiac built 330,887 Streamliner Eights and Chieftain Eights, and 115,542 six-cylinder Streamliner Sixes and Chieftain Sixes–in other words, roughly half the eight-cylinder models’ sales volume.
Despite these record-breaking production numbers, advertisements for the ’50 models are scarce. The only image of a ’50 Pontiac at oldcarbrochures.com is on the cover of the owner’s manual pictured above. All the other vintage ads are for ’49 models.
http://www.triton-import.ru/a_cars_pontiac.html
For a car once advertised as “Chief of the Sixes”, Pontiac was doing pretty well selling its straight-eight engine–and, at least at General Motors, would be the last straight-eight holdout, sticking with it until 1955. Oldsmobile had offered a V8 since 1949, when they introduced their infamous “Rocket” V8, and Buick had both a straight-eight and a V8 in transitional year 1953.
Early in July, I found this particular Pontiac parked in front of an apartment building. In a stroke of luck, I saw it again at a car show, where I was able get the picture of its engine compartment. I kept seeing it daily until it disappeared, sometime around October first. Since it looks like a driver, I hope it’s merely gone into storage for the winter.
I was going to be very dismissive on this and just call it another tarted-up Chevy, but taking some time looking over the car and photos and comparing it to a 1950 Chevy and the difference becomes really apparent.
I’m glad I waited and took some time and thought about what I was going to say before I wrote for once!
Yes, it is the same basic body, but it looks so much more refined – the design was finished very well. Somehow it appears better sculpted, better proportioned in all areas. Of course – you know me – I love all the chrome – REAL chromed-metal!
Yes, this was from the era when you truly did climb Sloan’s ladder, and when you did, each car was better than the one below it – in every way!
Unfortunately, we may never see the like of cars like these – I’m speaking of craftsmanship and quality of materials – ever again.
A beautiful car in every way!
The silvery gray suits this dignified automobile. What a fine driver this must be.
I was in awe around this car – you are right, the silver is the definitive color for a Silver Streak and pictures only begin to do this car justice.
One I found for sale last year at a big street rod show here..
Great story. Made my morning. My mother always loved the Pontiac, not sure for what reasons but I am sure dates back to a car like this. Her last car and only Pontiac was a 1989 Pontiac 6000, she loved that car. and it did drive unusually good for what it was. After she passed away Dad kept it much longer than normal just because her love of that car.
Stories like this are the reason I check CC every day.
Thanks.
+1
+2.
So was the Pontiac 8 the last Straight 8 sold in passenger vehicles in the United States? (Although personally I’d rather have a Buick I-8 if I have to pick from the Generals inline 8 cyl offerings.)
Tied with Packard for that distinction, in 1954.
A dead even tie with Packard (you’d have to research the official announcement dates of the ’55 models to call the winner). And that’s about as conservative as you could get back then.
A possibly interesting sidelight: I originally come from Johnstown, PA (as in flood), a coal and steel town populated by probably every Eastern European ethnic combination you could imagine. Poles, Slovaks, Croats, Hungarians, Ukranians, etc., etc., etc. It’s a heavily Catholic town, and of course every ethnic group had its own Catholic parish in the part of town called Cambria City. And your church attendance was delineated by your birth.
Back in the 50’s when dad was the Chevy dealer, and a well-respected Slovak boy, he sold very well to the Cambria City residents. Except for the Poles out of St. Casmir’s Church. If they were buying GM, they invariably went for the fancier Pontiac (aka, Chevy with a few more pounds of chrome). And it all came together once you walked into St. Casmir’s sacristy – which was much fancier with more gold leaf, glitz, etc. than any other church in Cambria City.
Something about Polish taste, I guess.
With 8 cylinders and a genuine Hydra Matic, I wouldn’t have bought a Chevy either. 🙂
To me, that was always the selling point in a Pontiac of this era. You could get the same kind of engine as in a Packard, and the same automatic transmission as in a Cadillac. And all for a few bucks more than a Chevy. It’s a wonder anyone ever bought any Dodges or Mercuries.
Given the economy of Johnstown back in the early/mid fifties, I’ll put my money on the majority (if not entirety) of the St. Casmir Pontiacs were six cylinders. Remember, we’re talking coal miners and steel workers, not management types or even shift supervisors.
Thanks Jason.
In 1962, two young Austrian women found their way to the U of Iowa for some advanced medical studies for a year. My father helped them find a used car: a tired old Pontiac almost exactly like this one, with the Hydramatic.
I was fascinated by its flathead straight eight. It idled so quietly and without almost any noticeable vibration. Of course, it was geriatric by then, and had some issues. But I loved riding in it on an outing to the Mississippi with those two pretty young women. It was so roomy inside, unlike our cramped little Fairlane. How about we keep going, and I’ll show you the rest of America?
Or, “How ’bout you kidnap me and we just keep cruising in this smooth old Pontiac? I swear the old man will never miss me.” 😛
My Grandpa, Charlie, aged 72, bought a brand new Chiefton in 1951, pretty much the spitting image of your subject, but in a darker shade of gray. Don’t recall if it had a six or an eight.
He didn’t have a dog (we later gave him a copy of Steinbeck’s book “Travels with Charlie”, maybe as recompense). My mother had a dog, ‘Pokey’ but I dont’ believe Pokey ever rode in the car. So we never had the opportunity to find out how good he was at ‘educatin’.
Mentions of both Packards and Pennsylvania coal-mining country reminded me of this story. On the way back from my grandparents’ place in upstate New York we were driving back through Pennsylvania when the Packard quit running. There we sat beside the road, my father no doubt wondering why his one-year-old 1950 Packard was giving us this grief. It was late in the afternoon, and soon a guy who certainly looked like he’d worked in a coal mine pulled up behind us in an older Packard. He told my father to just let the car roll downhill and follow him – he knew a downhill route to a good independent garage. It was a couple of miles – iirc there was one place where we needed a push to get over a little hump, but we got to the shop while it was still open, and the guy quickly diagnosed the problem as the fuel pump. I don’t remember after all these years how they laid hands on a new one, but I do remember that we were on our way not too much later.
These cars just scream ‘we’re America and we’re bulletproof’— perhaps that’s just in my head but they seem larger than life to me.
While some are misty eyed, these early 50’s Pontiacs were what Bunkie Knudsen and J. DeLorean were trying to move away from with Wide-Track and Performance image. These were the ‘little old lady’ cars that almost led to Pontiac’s early demise. [as DeSoto, Edsel]
Sure they seem like classics now, but at the time they were declining. The phrase “You can’t sell an old man’s car to a young man” also came from Knudsen. He removed the ‘Silver Streaks’ chrome that some called ‘old man suspenders’, and the rest is history. [never mind the recent demise]
Pontiac wasn’t always “GTO Inc”.
Good story.
Never had this one but did have a 50 olds that sure resembled it. I actually always wanted a straight eight but could only afford Fords till the others were too old. I liked the products from most of the manufacturers. Olds, Pontiac, Ford, and Merc were probably my personal favorites. I was getting close enough to a drivers license during this time frame but only had pretend money.
Love that long, narrow 6-volt battery. I remember a similar one in my dad’s ’53 Buick Special. But I note that the Pontiac has been retrofitted with an alternator. How does one do that? Are there such things as 6-volt alternators?
Yes actually there is 6 volt alternators, Delco listed them in 1958 catalog
@Jason Shafer
You better finish this story. I hate cliffhangers.
My trip with Stella? I’ve already got the car in the bag.
I’ve always liked General Motors cars built between 1949 and 1954. My favourites are Pontiac and Chevrolets.
I am trying to register my 50 Pontiac in Norway, but am required to give maximum allowed weight (loaded) for the vehicle. Can anybody help?
Sigh three years late Svein but we do what we can when we can –
http://www.carnut.com/specs/gen/pont50.html
Hope you found this in 2013, but just in case.
Great before work reading on a Sunday, those old Pontiacs were just a senior Chevrolet they used the same body but with pontiac mechanicals, though of course the ones we have here came from Canada so could differ from US cars, I saw a pair of two door 53s in the parking area at a swap meet they differed only in colour and trim the silver streak along the bonnet identified the Poncho the plainer car was a Chevy no actual reading of badges required.
Gi Gi and Sparky both experienced some private old school education.
I missed these great family stories and associated vehicles the first time. Enjoying them.
A good story about a colorful Family ! .
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I had a 1954 Pontiac Coupe in about 1972 , FlatHead 8 cylinder and of course the Hydromatic Drive , it was _wonderful_ , drove well and cruised along @ 85 MPH , easy on gas too .
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Having owned and driven many old Chevrolets (at heart I’m a Bowtie Guy) I can tell these were nothing like any Chevy in the flesh .
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-Nate
I’m really enjoying the stories of Grandpa Albert and the rest of the family.
Hehehe
Jason, I’ll guess you’re savvier now about finding ads than you were back in 2012; eBay can be a very useful source (they’re rarely watermarked). I’ll post a few for smiles:
Two-pager:
“World renowned”
Typical American breathless ad hype, like “World Famous Tommy’s Burgers” in L.A., or the World Series, to which Korean & Japanese leagues were never invited. Maybe it’s a reflection of American parochialism.
Buick had a better claim on this boast since they at least had a reputation in China.
Wonderful story (again)! My grandpa (Mom’s Dad) worked for Southern Railway for 45 years (started on steam, retired on diesel). While I don’t know the year, he had a Pontiac of this general vintage he called ‘Old John.’ More than likely a six. It was probably still around when I was born, but I don’t remember it. It would be succeeded by a ’66 Tempest four-door (OHC6), and that car by a ’71 Catalina four-door (400, 2bbl). My Great-Uncle, who worked for a Mercury dealer (former Air Force, trained some of the Tuskeegee Airmen in WWII), then convinced Grandpa to try a Mercury Marquis. He liked the first one well enough that they got another one around 1985-6 or so.
That dash with the huge circular speaker grille jogs a childhood memory. In the summer of either 1963 or 64, my mother took our 61 F-85 into an Olds dealer for some kind of repair. Back then, a loaner car was the rule and they were evidently out.
I remember the man in the service department saying “I have a Pontiac you can use – it’s an old one.”. Mom said that anything would do, and we were presented with one of these. Who knows, it might have been the guy’s personal car, or maybe a worthless trade-in. I have no idea of the year or if it was a 6 or 8. I just remember going to pick my dad up at work and being amazed that he didn’t think much of what was clearly a super-cool car.
My mom nixed a deal on a used Pontiac from this era due to the huge speaker grille in the middle of the dash. Distracting and looked dangerous. These didn’t change too much over those years and not so easy to identify precisely. Retired neighbor of mine had an attractive dark green one when I was a little kid at about the same time. Remember being amazed when I first saw the “Chief” hood ornament glowing in the dark.
To me, this pre-’55 looks like a Chevy, but my Dad’s knew the 1946-54 Big 3 makes a mile away from the grilles.
Just read this, from your link from today’s article. What a hoot! I would have loved to have met Sparky, he sounds like he provided lots of fun!
“Oldsmobile had offered a V8 since 1949, when they introduced their infamous “Rocket” V8……..”.
Infamous? Really?
That snagged my eye, too. It looks like that word snuck itself in past the ushers and took the seat assigned to famous.
Development of the “Rocket” or Kettering high compression V-8 was one of the most important achievements of Charles F. Kettering.
What a wonderful story. I hope there many more to come! As for the car, I find then absolutely gorgeous. I feel the need to for some straight 8s sound right now…
If any reader isn’t aware of this, please check it out: https://environmentalhistory.org/people/charles-f-kettering-and-the-1921-discovery-of-tetraethyl-lead/
Is it just me, or is the script of these articles becoming so small that they’re unreadable???
CC effect – check out this beauty I spotted this weekend: