According to family lore, my car obsession started pretty early – as it must have for many of you. I had learned to read by age three and liked to decipher the make and model of my toy cars. Those were typically written on the bottom, so I would try to go underneath actual parked cars in my neighbourhood, much to my family’s merriment, to discover what they were. Sometimes, identifying the exact nature of a CC can require a bit of detective work, but this particular Dodge proudly displays its moniker, and even some of its spec sheet, for all to see.
I wish it were always so easy. Japanese and American cars are not the ones I’m most familiar with, for obvious reasons: there were not many around where I grew up. The ones I used to try and ID by looking under them were usually Citroëns, Simcas, Fiats or Opels. Peugeots and Renaults were easy enough to suss out, as they always wore a model number (on the hood for Peugeots, on the back or the front wing for Renaults); Mercedes were similarly clearly recognizable to young T87 – just as a marque, but that was plenty. Anything more exotic, such as Eastern bloc or Japanese cars, warranted closer scrutiny. American cars like this Coronet were beyond exotic and into unicorn territory.
But if I had seen this particular one, not only would I probably have loved the sight of it (Mr Engel, you are really spoiling us!), but the sheer abundance of scripts and badges all of this thing would have made my day then as it did now. Cherry on top, thanks to the quirk of Japanese license plates, the model year was also part of the deal. Too kind.
Of course, I have virtually no frame of reference when I encounter something like this – certainly not compared to folks who grew up with these. With some exceptions, my knowledge of Detroit metal is broadly categorized under marque headings, not nameplates. Dodge? Sure, that’s Mopar’s Oldsmobile / Mercury equivalent, sort of. One rung up from Plymouth, one down from Chrysler.
But although “Coronet” is a name I associate with Dodge, if you had asked me that point blank (and before I found this CC and did a bit of reading) where exactly in the range the Coronet belonged, I’m not sure I would have guessed correctly. After all, it was on and off Dodge cars for many years, and the segmentation of the car market became ever more complex after the one-full-size-fits-all ‘50s.
And just to add a layer of complexity – it was the ‘60s after all, so nameplates were routinely divided into trim levels – the specific “Coronet 500” name is not something that rang any particular bell for me. I’m now aware that it’s the top of the heap for Dodge intermediates (Coronet, Coronet Deluxe, Coronet 440, Coronet 500). So there.
But why this strange obsession with the number 500, which was also used by Ford, Chevrolet and probably others? Unlike Buick, where the mystery number was 225? And wasn’t 440 supposed to be an engine, as opposed to a trim level? Detroit numerology will always baffle me. At least the Peugeots numerals were metric – Cartesian, even.
There is also this displacement-related puzzle piece to add. Fortunately, this three-digit number actually makes sense. Our Coronet proudly announces to the world that its hood hides the largest of the readily available V8s (barring the special order-only 426 Street Hemi) for this series of cars that year: a 383 ci (6277cc) big block with about 330 gross hp to provide the rear wheels.
Coronet 500 coupes only came with V8s, but the sedan was apparently available with the 225 (but non-Buick, I assume) slant six. The 500 series was also available in drop-top form, which JP Cavanaugh covered a few years back, but other Coronet variants, such as the two-door sedan or the wagon, were not deemed up to snuff for the nameplate’s prestige trim.
Unfortunately for those of us of the metric persuasion, “383” only makes sense in US measures, which have always confused me. I mean, simple things like miles, pints, pounds and feet, I can sort of handle. But cubic inches, for some reason, give me a headache. (As do Fahrenheit temperature readings – my mind panics when people talk of the “twenties” or “thirties” especially, as those commonly occur in both the Celsius and 451 system. Speaking of which, isn’t “451” a thing in cubic inches too? Aaaaargh! I’m completely lost now!)
All joshing aside, for a moment: this car is an absolute stunner. The sole detail that kind of curbed my enthusiasm when I photographed it were the chrome wheels, but this Dodge only reinforces my feeling that the post-war automotive world reached some sort of esthetic peak in the mid-‘60s.
This is amply confirmed by the interior. Just enough of the Buck Rogers ‘50s feel still present to give it a sense of dynamism, but by this time the chrome excesses of the past were toned down enough to unclutter the dash and make for something more elegant, simple and comfortable. This deteriorated quickly: by about 1970, “wood” appliques and padding had engulfed the cockpit and even contaminated the steering wheel.
In this bright world of vinyl and chrome, seat belts are still a seldom-ordered optional extra. It was a tougher time. You’re a rear passenger in this fine machine and you want fresh air? Well sunshine, you’re going to have to work for it.
I didn’t manage to take a full-on profile shot of our CC (Coronet Coupe) – just did not have the room. And it’s a pity, as the profile is what I find most striking in this car’s design. Fortunately, Dodge shot this excellent publicity pic themselves back in the day, so I can include it here. It also reminds us what the factory wheels look like, i.e. a damn sight better than the ones fitted to our feature car (nitpicky, nitpicky).
The feature that kills me about this generation of B-body coupes is the tapered C-pillar. This greenhouse is as iconic, in my view, as the GM ’59-’60 flat-top sedans, or the Ford Mustang fastback. Underlying this masterpiece, the four decorative “air intakes” on the flanks are mercifully restrained, compared to Chrysler products of the dreaded Exner fever dream era. Elwood Engel strikes again. Genius.
The front end is perhaps not as memorable as it could be, but at least it doesn’t offend. And the front overhang isn’t fifteen feet long (do I have that right?), another annoying Detroiter trait that really became an issue in succeeding years.
The rear, for its part, is perfectly sculpted and detailed – not always a given with Engel, whose inspiration in this regard was sometimes lacking. These taillights are somewhat aggressive and eminently distinctive, but also perfectly accentuated by the shape of the fender. Some cars of this period look like they’re an amalgam of unrelated designs, which they essentially were (the Big Three products especially), but this one feels whole.
American intermediate size cars of the ‘60s seem usable in present-day Japanese traffic, but I bet a full-sizer from this era would be pretty challenging to navigate. This is plenty of car to handle already, and that 383 probably makes it lively enough to still hold its head high 55 years later. No two ways about it: alongside a ’64 Studebaker (Cruiser or Wagonaire, I’m not fussed), a ‘65 Corvair sedan and a ’65 Buick Riviera (and a few others), the ‘60s Detroit section of my fantasy garage now holds a 1966 Dodge Coronet coupe.
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1966 Dodge Coronet 500 – This B-Body Earns an ‘A’, by JPC
Cohort Outtake: 1966 Dodge Coronet Two Door Sedan – A Splendid CC Find, by PN
Cohort Outtake: 1966 Dodge Coronet Deluxe – Farewell Poly 318, by PN
Beautiful car, one of my favourites, great write up and photos. My choice of wheels for these has another one of those magic numbers, Magnum 500s, a perfect match.
Is the colour trying to be dark turquoise poly? – Magnums are a good, if not period correct choice. Certainly better than the rubbish here. Extra instruments are acceptable only if they can be pulled without leaving a trace – like a modern painting conservation.
The angular style of these was considered outdated at the time compared to the GM coke bottle swoopy styling, but it aged much better IMO. I believe the American obsession with the number 500 came from the Indy 500 which was up until the mid sixties one of the most iconic events occur, right up there with the World Series of baseball and a Heavyweight Prize Fight.
“the number 500 came from the Indy 500”
I started to add that the Daytona 500 may have been a factor too, but wasn’t the first “500” the 1957 Ford Fairlane 500? Daytona didn’t begin until 1959 but there was also the Southern 500 that went back to 1950. In any case, it seems that any US automobile race that wasn’t 500 miles was second rate.
That would be a good CC topic – all of the cars that used a “500” in their name.
Wonder how many know-it-all schoolkids went around proclaiming Dad’s new car had 500 cubic inches – “Says so right on the badge!”
Nice car and write up!
The 225 in the Electra originally referred to the length of the car, 225 inches.
Supposedly, Chrysler engineer Tom ‘Father of the Hemi’ Hoover had a ’66 Coronet Street Hemi in the same color. The story goes that he would lend the car out to others to street race on Woodward Avenue for real-world testing of prototype parts and tuning. Even the dark green color was chosen so it would be more difficult to identify if seen by law enforcement at night.
What a great writeup and photos of a beautiful car. It was the byline that lured me in, as Simon & Garfunkel’s “Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine” was a teenage discovery for me that also made me think of the Mopars of the day from the ’60s.
The tapered C-pillar used to irk me, and the angular styling of these cars felt cut-rate compared to offerings from GM and Ford. In 2021? I swoon.
Brilliant essay and great cyber start to a Monday.
Nice car and a great colour.
I love these as much as I did when they were regular sights on television shows of the day (with the line at the end “Vehicles Provided By Chrysler Corporation”, who was eager to put as many of their cars on television screens as they could, it seemed.)
I count it as pure chance that I never owned one of these. Had the right one in the right condition turned up during the many times I was searching for a car in my youth, I am sure I would have pulled the trigger. But for whatever reason, the unseen forces of the automotive world conspired against me.
This one is even equipped with factory a/c, judging from those center vents on the dash – not at all a common option on these in my part of the world (upper midwestern US). It seemed that in 1966 every size class you dropped (from luxury, to standard, to intermediate to compact) the take rate on a/c dropped by 50%.
I would venture to guess that Chrysler product placement reached its zenith in 1970 when they offered up five, white Dodge Challengers to anyone in Hollywood willing to use them in a movie. As everyone now knows, the result was the now cult-classic Vanishing Point which, incidently, also featured a new, 1970 Imperial in a brief cameo in the beginning of the movie.
As one who wasn’t around when they were new or really familiar with them until much later and thus unencumbered by any baggage regarding when/where they were “judged” in relation to their contemporary peers, I love these, and especially that pillar. Inside and out, it all works together and looks marvelous.
Those are Halibrand wheel imitations, and one of the better choices, IMO, if one is going for shiny aftermarket wheels. A bit more interesting than the usual Cragars, Torq-Thrusts, Center Lines, and other various vintage-looking wheels that are ubiquitous these days. The rather squared-off holes or slots mimic the squared-off styling of the car.
I’m of a mixed mind on these. I certainly respect them for their technical competency. As to the styling, I love them for the period piece they are. But in terms of their styling at the time, they were a throw back; a dead end. GM clearly showed the way forward, and of course Ford and Chrysler with their extremely boxy and rectilinear 1965s were caught flat-footed. And they immediately started adding some curves to them, like the bulging hips on the these ’66 B-Bodies, which look all-too much like the same ones Ford desperately slathered on its 1966 full size cars.
At least the C-Body Chryslers kept their straight lines intact all the way through 1968 (except the ’67-’68 Fury’s little upkick).
These B-Bodies undoubtedly appealed to those more conservative types for whom GM’s 1965-1966 Coke bottle styling was too much. Of course in a couple of years they accepted it all too willingly, as in the 1968 makeover of these B-Bodies.
It’s interesting to note that Chrysler spent the money on that substantial external restyle of the B-Bodies for 1968, but not for the C-Bodies. The B-Bodies appealed to a younger demographic, and GM was undoubtedly selling all the A-coupes that they could make.
These do look best in a dark color like this one to make the most of its surface details.
like the bulging hips on the these ’66 B-Bodies
For this reason alone I find myself preferring the Plymouth B bodies, it kept the rectilinear bodysides without the pseudo bulging hips of the Dodge.
Yeah, the straight lines of the Plymouth’s sides seem more in step with the rest of the B-body’s sharp creases. In that respect, the Coronet’s quarter panel bulges look a bit out of place, but it was in keeping with Dodge’s closer alignment with Pontiac styling.
Of course, that was all solved in 1968 with the B-body’s sooother, more curvasive ‘double diamond’ (usually referred to as ‘Coke-bottle’) design.
“I would try to go underneath actual parked cars in my neighbourhood, much to my family’s merriment, to discover what they were”. That’s wonderful, and I think car manufacturers should put the make and model on the bottom of cars as a matter of urgency.
And they should be delivered in boxes.
100% with you automotive styling reached a peak in the mid sixties, and the interior is fantastic. I never appreciated these when I was younger, now I value their essential rightness. Chrysler, in the space of 10years, had gone from frankly loony styling to this muscular restrained beauty, thanks for the great photos.
I almost bought one of these back in ’82 when I was 17. 440 trim level, 318 poly in great shape at a great price. I passed. Why? didn’t like the color, and the future of Chrysler was still shaky, I didn’t want to be stuck with an orphan. Still love these, and about the last thing I would expect to see in Japan. What a great find!
The 66-67 B bodies kind of fell through the cracks of my appreciation for a long time, the 68- 70s are iconic and more timeless(IMO) the 71-74s are sleek and radical and similarly the 62-65s are interesting simply in their initial weirdness and interesting evolution in taming down that weirdness between 63 and 65(Very similar to Chevy’s evolution from the 59 Batwing to the boxy 64 on the same basic X frame platform). I cannot find a negative thing to say about the design of the 66 really, only that I see a lot of details that would transfer over into the more hippy 68s, and my heart says were perfected with the followup s but my brain wonders were these even in need of perfection? Is there some level of group think that influences my extra appreciation of the 68s? I don’t know, but examples like this certainly make me rethink.
As for nomenclature, I think American cars in this period simply used what sounded neat and interesting in advertisements, be it 500, turbo, jet, super, acronyms with the letter X and such, very little did any of those things denote anything meaningful. I find it both frustratingly confusing and memorably charming at the same time.
I’m torn between these and the 68s as well, in some ways the 66/67s are more beautiful, and what may be in my head as well, and only going by what I have read and observing at car shows, the older cars may be a bit better built and of higher quality ?
I also love the 64/65s with the more extreme reverse tapered C pillar, impossible for me to pick only one from 1964 to1969, it was a glorious period in Chrysler styling, IMO
My grandparents bought their ‘66 Dodge Coronet 500 in Nov. 67. I have the bill of sale from the night they bought it. I got it for college in ‘85 and redid it in 90 with my dad and brother. Have had her ever since!
Beautiful Dodge. I have alway’s wanted a ’67 GTX or Coronet RT. Love the styling. For a short time in the 1990’s I owned a rough rolling shell ’66 Satellite convertible. I sold it because I lacked the fund’s to restore it.Big mistake. I wished I had that car now.
Maybe someday I will find a way to get that dream GTX.
Great find – and it’s a beauty…
I’m surprised I haven’t seen it here at Kennie’s MOPAR Service in our section of Tokyo…
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/cc-outtakes/curbside-outtake-dodge-dart-plymouth-savoy-and-plymouth-duster-there-were-these-three-older-gentlemen-sitting-at-a-bar/