(first posted 3/14/2014) It has been a tough winter in Indianapolis. We are very near to a seasonal snowfall record and have had some extreme cold to go with it. From the perspective of a car stalker, these are the doldrums. Sure, there are plenty of old beaters plying the streets, but a guy can only get so excited about another old Taurus or Lumina (or yet another GM B-body.) But for all the interesting old iron, snow brings salt, and salt brings rust; so, anyone who cares about old wheels will leave them parked until spring rains wash all that salt off the streets. But very rarely, and only if you have been a very good boy or girl, you will see something like this.
It has been a long time since I chased a car in the hope of getting some pictures, but I chased this one. Maybe it was because it was the first really interesting car I had seen in months, crossing in front of me as I sat at a red light on my way to the office. Maybe it was because I have not seen an early Toro in the wild since, well, who knows? Or maybe because I was suddenly seven years old again and had just seen the coolest car of my entire life. Whatever the reason, I saw it turn off of a busy highway, and when my light turned green I headed off to intercept it. It took me a few minutes, but I finally bagged it. Here it is.
Paul Niedermeyer wrote up a ’66 Toro (here), and his take was that it was one of GM’s first deadly sins. I re-read his piece, and there is not a lot there to argue with if you are going to approach this car in a logical and dispassionate sort of way. While I often agree with his perspective, this is one instance where I must differ and offer an opposing viewpoint. Who says the Fairness Doctrine is dead?
My love for this car starts with the fact that I grew up in an extended family that was awash in Oldsmobiles. Back in the good old days of GM’s brand hierarchy, you could see how your place in the world sort of corresponded to one of GM’s car Divisions. There were Chevy people (young folks or working people), and there were Cadillac people (wealthy retirees or hotshot executives with an image to project). We were Oldsmobile people, and by that, I mean the middle of the middle. Whether the conservative Indiana and Ohio Lutherans or at least some of the Philadelphia-area Catholics, we were mostly regular people who tried not to be too big for our britches (my father’s tendencies towards Lincolns notwithstanding).
Our Oldsmobiles were mostly Cutlasses, with some 88s thrown in for variety. None of the fancy-schmancy Ninety Eights for us, thanks. The problem with this kind of consistency is that for a kid, it gets mighty boring. My Uncle Bob’s 1961 Super 88 bubble top was the only really interesting one in the bunch. Our ’64 Cutlass hardtop with the bucket seats and console wasn’t bad, but when you ride in it every day, even an interesting car can become blah for a kid with an insatiable appetite for new automotive experiences.
When I first saw the Toronado, I knew that it was an Oldsmobile, yet unlike any other Oldsmobile I had ever seen. Little did I know then that I had a lot of company. Paul has ably covered all of the unique and ambitious engineering that went into the Toro, so there is no need to repeat it here. All I knew was that this car was exotic. I mean, a flat floor — who else has that? For a kid who had spent quite a number of rides in the middle of someone’s front seat, this was no small thing.
And that dashboard–I’m not sure I really appreciated it at the time. The first two-thirds of the 1960s brought us some pretty fabulous instrument panels, and this is one of them. Pardon me while I stare at it for a while longer. . . . .
But the biggest draw about this car was its shape–its bold, hulking, powerful shape. To my seven-year-old eyes, it was the shape of a football lineman lunging forward after the center has snapped the ball. From my adult perspective, it is a groundbreaking look among U.S. cars. The fastback was the height of style in 1966, at least for a short time. Some cars did the look better than others, but I always thought that the Toro did the look as well as any of the larger cars that tried it. Beyond the fastback, however, came the C-pillars that integrated into the rear fenders, sweeping out of them like flying buttresses. This complete break from the “Thunderbird roof” (with roof pillars inset from the fenders, it looks as though the roof is a separate piece from the rest of the body) was groundbreaking, at least in the mass market. This look would be picked up by the fuselage Chryslers by 1969, and with few exceptions, the style has remained the norm all these years later. It is a shame that so many of these messed up the look with a vinyl roof.
More importantly, though, were those big, bold, sexy open wheels. Oldsmobile had re-introduced the full open wheel cutouts in the 1965 88, but it was the Toro that added the exaggerated fender flares that have been the bane of every body-and-fender man since. Of course, I had no way of knowing at the age of seven that many lines on the Toro payed homage to the classic Cord 810 of 1936. Its open fenders that were so suggestive of the pontoon fenders of the ’30s, and the bold, slotted wheels were two of the more obvious tips of the stylist’s hat, as were the Toro’s hidden headlights and grille texture.
Those wheels are also a clue that Olds engineers knew there were issues with the car’s brakes. One close look makes it clear that Job One was getting air flow around those (over-matched) finned drums. After all, can you think of any other Detroit car of its era that did not even offer full wheel covers? All early Toros got these little hubcaps on deeply inset and slotted wheels. The only wheel option (on the base Toro) was the stainless trim rings that are absent from this car. For seven-year-old me, these styled wheels were just one more thing that made the Toronado special.
As a full-grown adult, I now know that a big fastback was never destined to have any staying power as a personal luxury car, especially one that eschewed the close Thunderbird-style cockpit, with its big console and sporty bucket seats. And who needed front-wheel drive in a big luxury coupe? Pretty much nobody, neither for its traction characteristics nor for the increased interior room created by its packaging advantages. There may have been a few people swayed by the front drive, but in 1966 it really turned out to be more novelty than anything else, and certainly in a car like this one. No matter how fabulous this car was to a seven-year-old, that demographic does not buy many cars. And of course, nobody in our family ever bought one.
I guess that Oldsmobile’s approach to personal luxury was understandable, though. Everyone knows about GM Divisional General Managers like Ed Cole and John Delorean, but did you ever hear of Harold Metzel? He was the Olds Chief Engineer behind the turbocharged F-85 Jetfire and the 1964 4-4-2. He became Oldsmobile’s G.M. in 1964 upon the retirement of Ed Wolfram. And when he retired, in 1969, from a forty-one year career at Olds, he had his own Chief Engineer, John Beltz, groomed and ready to take his place. Oldsmobile, in those days, was an engineering-centric place, so it should come as no surprise that the Toronado failed to tickle some of the same brain receptors as its E-body Riviera and Eldorado siblings. I guess we can think of the Toronado as a left-brain car in a right-brain market niche. At least it was a beautiful left-brain car, which is probably what saved its bacon.
There are some things I miss about the General Motors of the 1960s. Although hindsight tells us that the rot that would eventually take the company down was beginning even then, you had to be in awe of a company that could afford to keep throwing dart after dart at the board, each one a new and different take on what a modern car should be. From the Corvair, to the Y-body compacts, to the GTO, to this Toronado, GM was certainly not playing follow-the-leader. Sadly, very few of its bold new ideas paid off in a significant way, and the adventurous GM of the 1960s would become the conservative GM of the ’70s, a trajectory that seemed to continue as time passed.
When I was in sixth grade, my teacher owned one of these (in turquoise), along with a beige 1964 88. The 88 was a total teacher car, but to my mind that Toro was still an exotic, in the same way a Flairbird or an Avanti was an exotic. Soon after, I recall Special Interest Autos magazine doing a feature on their predictions for the most collectible cars of the 1960s, and this Toro was high on the not-very-predictive list. However, the Toro never really became an ordinary used car, either. There were many cars that were cheaper to buy and run as they aged, and these Toros sort of went quietly away, either into old guys’ garages or to junkyards.
The owner of this very original example told me that he’d actually rescued it from a junkyard, and having put some of the mechanical parts of the car back into shape, was now looking into a more presentable paint job. This is a base model (not a DeLuxe, which would have added interior rear door handles, among other things) but I didn’t really care. The melody of 425 cubic inches of OldsMobility coming out of those twin exhausts put me into a swoon from which I am still recovering. Rarely, one of these, in all of its husky athleticism, still comes out to play in the snow. And we are all the richer for it.
Wow. Just wow.
There is a similar vintage Toronado south of here, forlornly looking at US 63. Sadly, the front end is curved upwards, signaling its prime of life is well gone.
This is a timeless design and in some ways a predictor of how things would be in the future.
Being a base model actually makes it cooler to me, how many base models survive of most cars? Crank windows in your personal luxury car.
The only Toronado I don’t love is the stubby 1986 version.
Not at all surprising given Hoosier tastes of the time. My dad’s 65 Thunderbird had crank windows and that is just the way he wanted it. Folks, even those who bought upscale cars, were very resistant to buying extra stuff that could break. We knew many who had nice cars without A/C and power windows and seats.
These buying habits also were part of the ethic that JPC writes so well about in this piece – socio-economic status, profession, religion, culture – all pushing people into certain car buying classifications. Sociologists wrote a lot about this phenomenon in the corporate world (at what level did you have to be before you could drive a four porthole Buick or a Cadillac) but not so much has been written about lower/middle class constraints that I found it fascinating as a kid. In the mid to late 60’s things began to change a lot, e.g., my dad was a United Steelworker whose company unionized in the mid-60’s and better wages meant he could afford a Thunderbird and he bought one even though not of the country club set. Also, Ford Motor Company {which didn’t become a public company until 56} and the T-Bird were less old money and less corporate than GM and Chrysler. My aunt and uncle both worked in the steel plant too and in addition to being a two-income, one child household, had inherited wealth. Hence, as time went on they bought Oldsmobiles and Buicks rather than Chevies or Fords and came in for scrutiny because of this. When they test drove a Cadillac the whole neighborhood was up in arms, saying they had gotten too “high hat.” They took it back and kept the Olds.
Great piece of writing, JPC, enjoyed it very much. These Toronados are so rare I seldom see one even in SoCal. I have a work colleague who has a later model that belonged to his father but as Paul writes, the styling changes did it no favors.
Your comments on socioeconomic factors are spot-on, in my experience. There was an old couple in my extended family who inherited some money. They bought a new gold 1963 Cadillac. Four years later, (as I understood the story) they decided they really wanted air conditioning, and they bought another Cadillac. However, they lived in a small town and purposely bought the new 67 in the very same color as the 63 to make the new car as inconspicuous as possible. At that, it was a base model Calais with crank windows.
Catholic Church Parking Lot, Miller City, OH circa 1990, listed by order of how many of the marque you would see. Chevy, Pontiac, Ford, Oldsmobile, Buick, Mercury, Plymouth, Dodge, Chrysler – not a furrin’ car to be seen and not a pick up truck or 4×4 in sight except the Grand Wagoneer belonging to a local lawyer who worked in the county seat and chose to live in our little community. Trucks were for the field and farming, not going to church.
Heh! Rocket straight across the state of Ohio to the Northeastern corner, and back it up a decade or so. The same results, pretty much.
Sweet. That is one damn fine looking car. Doesn’t get more masculine than that either.
All that’s missing is “High toned son of a bitch” on the back.
+1! I loved the Toro in The Dark Half. It fit George Stark to a T (image from imcdb).
That is such a good looking car. I have already purloined the gold on gold pic. To me, this is just as exotic as anything put out by the Europeans. I’d love Harold Metzel’s track set; are those promos or studio models? Nice, nice, nice, JPCavanaugh.
That picture of Metzel with the minature cars supposedly came from the 1966 Detroit Auto Show. He should be better remembered than he is. As a chief engineer and as Divional general manager, he was instrumental in laying the foundation from which John Beltz would launch Olds to number 3 in sales in the 70s.
Odd thing, among all the promo Toros (I’d love to jump into the picture and grab just one!) there is one 1958 Olds promo.
THIS was JUNKED? Srsly?
What is this world coming to?
I love the original Toro’s delightful tail.
A fantastic body hiding an eccentric soul. I love them, but the idea of 4 wheel drum brakes on a car this big and heavy just terrifies me!
Me too. Thank God I couldn’t afford this car when I was younger, I absolutely would have died in it and there would have been one less Toronado in the world. The ability to go at high speeds in a very heavy car without the ability to stop was definitely, truly a GM Deadly Sin. Fortunately the people who this car was aimed drove it conservatively as well.
The brakes were surely up to standard for the day – GM had standards, which it met rigorously, and which were part of its downfall.
The big Toro was probably fine to drive in the traffic of the day, fully up to spec. Today, not so much, when a $9,000 Hyundai can out-start, -stop and -corner this grand beast.
No they weren’t, not by a long shot. All the tests and reviewers of the day proclaimed the brakes to be woefully inadequate. This is fact, not wishful thinking. It was an egregious error to release this powerful car with so much weight on the front with such inadequate brakes.
Here’s a closer look at the issue, in regard to the ’67 Eldorado which came with the same drum brakes standard, and was even heavier.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/automotive-histories/1967-cadillac-eldorado-vs-renault-r-10-an-unfair-comparison-thanks-to-a-gm-deadly-sin/
Is that a cassette deck in the radio? Wow. Seems kind of early for that — weren’t they still putting 8-track players in cars back then?
Must have been a pretty pricey option.
In my experience, even an am/fm radio was kind of exotic in 1966. I am not sure about when the first factory 8 track was offered, but would guess maybe 1967? The cassette deck is undoubtedly aftermarket.
Duh, of course. Taking another look now, that radio is definitely from a later era. The dashboard here (http://automotivemileposts.com/toronado/toronado1966standardequipment.html) has what was probably the standard radio, with 5 mechanical preset buttons, just as God intended.
What was cool about the aftermarket products during the ’70s and ’80s was that most were built to be very easy plug and play affairs in the typical GM car. I did a handful of my own stereo installs in Oldsmobiles and the results would look almost factory, as on this car.
I have not looked at aftermarket products in years. I wonder if any of them are as easy as these were.
Chrysler products struck me as nightmares with their two knobs on the left of the radio.
I think Ford had an 8-track available in the Thunderbird for 1966, it was on the AM radio only, I think the Mustang might have had it too.
According to Wiki, Ford offered the Lear 8 track player in the Mustang, TBird and Lincoln for 1966. It was separate from the radio. Another source indicates that Ford moved 65,000 of them, way more than anyone expected. It was available in all Ford models for 1967. It looks like GM, and AMC jumped on the bandwagon by 1967 and Chrysler in 68.
By 1968, Ford had integrated the 8-track into the radio. I used to drive a 68 Mustang equipped with the factory AM-8 track radio and even bought a few 8-track tapes before they disappeared in the late 70’s.
But, getting back to the 66 Toro, it’s got to take a lot to keep this car on the road today what with $3.50 gas and all. I bet that 425 can suck it down (and probably required premium back in the day) and I would be surprised if this thing didn’t get single-digit mileage even when it was new.
My dad remembers the 1966 Continental my grandfather bought new. It had a factory 8-track installed, and he well remembers listening to it on family vacations to Biloxi and South Padre Island (yes, they drove).
Not the same thing, but your cassette question reminded me of the Highway Hi-Fi. A new option for 1956 Chrysler Corporation products, these must have been very rare to come across!
And just as rare would be the special records required. Them hep cats probably weren’t doing a whole lot of jivin’ while drivin’.
I’ve never seen a 16 rpm record, but I did have a couple of home stereo sets that had a 16 rpm setting to play them. As kids we’d play the records on the wrong speed for fun. A 78 or a 45 played at 16 rpms was interesting.
I’m very late to the discussion, but playing the 45 of Carol Douglass’ “Doctors Orders” at 33 turns a protodisco classic into one hilarious record.
Can’t say what came from the factory but in 1965 I bought an aftermarket system that had provisions for both. You could play 8 tracks or use an 8 track blank that you could install a cassette in. Obviously a limited time frame for that.
Had a shipmate that owned a 66 Toro and after I retired a neighbor in Texas that had one of the last years the full size beast was made. I remember them as popular in Ct. I wrote that off as being because of all the snow. Corvairs and Vws were popular also. They guy in Tx said the CV joints were the only problem he had with an otherwise great car.
I always thought these were great looking cars but just a bit (quite a bit actually) large for my taste. If I’m going to get lousy gas mileage in something tough to park I’ll take a truck or a van.
Thanks for bringing back some memories with a great article JP.
That inner door panel is so basic. Looks like it would be right at home in a Bel Air of the time. Thunderbird looks so much more luxurious http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p79/nbaum/TMG1966ThunderbirdCarlRoedel003.jpg
To get a nicer interior meant upgrading to the Toronado Deluxe which had a Strato bench seat with armrest and more upscale door panels with full-length armrests, door releases for rear-seat passengers, courtesy lights on the lower section and armrest extensions for controls of the optional power windows and seats. A Toronado with crank windows and without air conditioning was quite rare. And the Deluxe outsold the standard models by quite a margin.
A lovely example, but this (http://www.carpictures.com/vehicle/07E1F122305919/Oldsmobile-Toronado-Twin-Engine-1966) is the ultimate Toro. I read elsewhere that the car has two accelerator pedals, one for each engine, and they were sort of zip-tied together to provide a low-tech way to give each engine approximately the same amount of throttle when accelerating. Must be a blast to drive.
I shouldn’t like this,too big,thirsty,lardy handling,poor brakes FWD but I do!
Take a look at the wheel well bulges on an 05 Mustang and see the original here. i think it was meant to be a modern (1966) Cord 810. GM sixties chutzpa for sure, but you have to admit a styling icon of the era when Bill Mitchell was swinging for the fences.
Thanks for insight on the styling connection between the Cord and the Toronado. I had a 1/12 scale model kit of a Cord 812 that I glued together as a kid in the mid 1960s and remember having a Car and Driver magazine featuring the Toronado when it was introduced. But I never realized how many styling themes the Toronado drew from the Cord. It really shows seeing the photos together.
It still amazes me how GM could go from a front drive car this cool, to the X-car crap in a mere 14 years. And I also have to wonder, how many of these were lost due to engine fires from the early Q-Jets issues…
Are you referring to the tendency of the seal plugs to leak? I used to JB-weld those whenever I rebuilt a Q-jet (which is one of my favorite 4V carbs for numerous reasons).
Q-jet, yes. E-Quadra-jet, hell no.
There’s a special place in hell for GM for pushing the E-Q-jet and not coming out with reliable TBI across the board by 1985.
Another car that is on my Powerball list. A repair shop I pass on the way home from work has had one of these sitting out in the boneyard for several years. It is pretty rough; the hood is missing, there is substantial rust and there is a tarp over the top, which likely means one or more windows is missing. I have never stopped to look closely but I suspect this one is too far gone to save; there might be some useful parts remaining.
I want “Oldsmobile Actionland” almost as much as the cool car, plus a Bulova Accutron and a killer Heathkit hi-fi. Along with my front-drive ride with speedometer by Lockheed, I’d be “geek chic” before the term was invented.
I know, that Oldsmobile Actionland looks so cool!
My uncle had a Heathkit stereo he assembled himself. There was nothing chic about his geekiness, though. Coke bottle glasses, short-sleeved dress shirts, clip-on ties, comb-overish hairstyle and a job at JPL — he personified the stereotype of the pre-personal-computer-era computer nerd. In terms of cars, he was a Buick man. Maybe that fits: Wasn’t a Buick the preferred car in the culture the Watsons fostered at IBM?
Alan, here’s my 1961 Accutron Spaceview…it’s still my “daily driver”!
I’m wearing my ’61 Bulova today… 🙂
Tony, that is even cooler than the one I was thinking of. I assume you use it to launch Mercury capsules into orbit?
Actually the preferred watch of the NASA guys was the Omega Speedmaster Professional , which looks more James Bond than geek-chic, but still extremely cool.
Nice. Includes the all-important tachymetre. (?)
Does anybody know if the Toronado was the first, or one of the first American cars to delete the front vent window? As much as I love vent windows I have to admit it makes the car look a lot sleeker.
You may be right. As an aside, it took a lot of self control to keep this one under wraps after you were waxing poetic over a 66 Toro in dark maroon in a comment to the E body trifecta a couple of weeks ago. I should have dedicated this one to you. 🙂
I believe that the Buick Riviera from that year, which was completely restyled, also eliminated the vent windows.
Yup. At the time, it was heralded as GM coming full circle, since they’d basically introduced vent windows (in Detroit, anyway) back in the ’30s.
Great catch! It worries me a bit to see it parked in front of a Maaco, though.
At Maaco you get what you pay for. How expensive do you want your paint job to be? Hot Rod Magazine recommended for a Macco paint job to do the prep work yourself, washing, stripping the wax, etc.
YES, ALMOST AS SCARY AS BUYING A USED COMPUTER FROM KANABEC SYSTEMS, WHERE THEY ADVERTISE CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP
Great find! The original ’66 Toro’s my favorite. Oddly enough, it seems that many of the surviving 1st generation Toronados are base models. If I’m wrong, someone correct me, but weren’t the majority of them sold the deluxe model?
A fine survivor from the era of many beautiful cars. Gotta love Bill Mitchell’s talent.
I love, love, love, love, love, love, love that car. It’s just about the perfect color, and I just need to buy one right now….
Go ahead Aaron, http://seattle.craigslist.org/see/cto/4362791776.html
Its the closely related 1966 Oldsmobile Torinoda in plum.
If I had the dough right now I would not be sharing 🙂
The “Torinoda” is actually the same color as this car. The CL car appears to be a Deluxe based on the folding center armrest and trim rings on the wheels.
Oh man…I just can’t ship another car from the Pacific Northwest before I even get a chance to flesh out the one I just did!
I’m glad it’s not closer. 🙂
I’m always a little leery of ads where they slaughter the spelling from the car’s emblem that badly.
This is not the worst name butchering job I have seen, the best was a 70’s Eldora Britz, AKA Eldorado Biarritz
I have a 1:18th scale gold did cast 1966.
A 1967, when they improved the brakes, is in my dream garage with the 1974 Pontiac Grand Am. Two classics I would buy before anything else.
I have that same 1/18 model by Road Signature, but mine is black with maroon interior. I love it, it even has flip-open headlights!
Great find, and I’m glad this beauty will avoid the crusher.
The 1966-70 Toronado was a rare bird when I was growing up. The styling may have been TOO radical for prospective buyers. It also seemed as though Oldsmobile didn’t quite know what to do with it after the initial hullabaloo. I’m guessing that the division was worried that if it promoted the front-wheel-drive too heavily, people would start asking why all of the division’s offerings didn’t feature it.
Regarding the flush C-pillar – the 1960-62 Plymouth Valiant and 1961-62 Dodge Lancer featured a C-pillar that blended in smoothly with the quarter panel. The effect wasn’t as dramatic as it was on the Toronado because the C-pillar on the Mopar compacts was much narrower, and their quarter panel featured a raised character line that circled the rear wheel and led to the taillights. Chrysler eliminated both styling features on the completely restyled, much more conventional 1963 Valiant and Dodge Dart.
November 1965: The young (age 11) Imperialist and his dad visit Egolf Olds, in Peoria, IL, to trade in the family’s ’61 Dynamic 88. And there it was–a magnificent, almost otherworldly thing unlike anything else I’d ever seen. Only many years later would I fully appreciate what this aubergine-colored automotive icon represented, but that day all I knew was that it was just…so…cool. I begged Dad to buy that Toro, but he didn’t bite; admittedly, it wasn’t the best choice for a family car. Instead, we went home in a new Ninety Eight four-door hardtop. I wouldn’t be the envy of my fellow students at Blessed Sacrament school, but the beige hardtop was pretty cool too, especially the Wonder Bar radio and the clear tail lamp lenses that lit up red (how’d they do that, Mr. Wizard?). I’ll always remember that the salesman upgraded us to four-ply tires during the negotiations–apparently a big deal then. Good times, good times…
I was about the same age as you, and also had a father-son GM dealership experience in the fall of 1965. In this case it was a Buick store, but while I was sitting in a Riviera in the show room, my father was signing the papers for a light-green Opel Kadett. Oh well.
Ouch.
Similar situation: March 1968, I was all of 5.5 years old. We were at Kroehle Lincoln Mercury in Youngstown, Ohio considering yet another Merc in our family’s line of car purchases. I fell in love with a Cougar (not a ‘cougar’), but my father was unswayed by my protestations.
We ended up with a Mercury Montego. But, it *was* the same color as the Cougar…
Great find; I love the condition, color and trim level of this particular Toro. I’d almost forgotten about the base level trim. Too bad they didn’t offer it with a three-on-the-tree!
As much as I can appreciate the Toro’s dash in hindsight as a great period piece, I thought it was rather ugly at the time. I did not like the speedo, and thought the rest of it a bit incoherent. And I didn’t like that unusual steering wheel (still don’t). Needs a three-spoke wood-rimmed Nardi!
Yes, the ultimate downfall of the Toro was that it had no place to got, especially with GM’s obsession on annual styling changes. The only solution would have been to keep it exactly the same, like a European car, and spend the time and energy designing a really killer replacement. But that wasn’t in the cards. What Olds did with the ’68 and up Toro truly was a DS.
+1 on the dash and steering wheel – much too busy. Standard Oldsmobiles of this period had much cleaner dash designs. I really liked the simple three-pod design of the dash of the new 67 Olds Delta 88 fastback coupe driven by the owner of the business where I worked in high school. But the original Toro’s exterior is very cool – looks good even with the headlights open, IMO.
Sorry, but I’m all geeked out by a non-performance GM car with temp and ammeter gauges – could this have been the only one since the 50s?
look at the trunk space…
That’s what you would call a “Four-Body” trunk!
Ok ladies, I’m closing the lid….watch your heads…..do you want to see the Batcave or not?
Good….then stop complaining Linda!
so….why did this Philistine drive that car in road salt? When you own something like that, you are a caretaker for the next owner.
When Tom McCahill tested the Toro, he dug out a Spanish/English transation book. He figured “Toro” ment “bull” and “nado” ment “to float”, so he dubbed the car the “floating bull”, and discribed it as “gaspingly beautiful”
I eagerly awaited the release of these cars, and when our neighbor across the street plucked the one off the showroom floor when the Toronado debuted, I was hooked. I got to admire that car every day, and I’ve never grown tired of it. 6 months ago, I was cycling through a residential tract when a well-kept metallic red ’66 Toro pulled out and away……just beautiful.
It’s surprising to see the owner driving that car in that crap….and knowing that mush is getting squished into the original carpet — good grief dude — buy some floor mats or throw some towels in there…
The standard Toronados are quite rare: I’m thinking only around 6,000 were built in ’66. I’d rather have the standard version with the optional power windows..
I would take the Deluxe interior, with the much nicer door panels and the cool rear door release handles, plus the Deluxe interior had red & white door warning and courtesy lights, though the Deluxe interior on the Toronado didn’t automatically mean that you got power windows, same on the Riviera, I’ve seen both examples with the nicer interiors still sporting the crank windows too.
Huh — I always thought the deluxe interior required power windows. I guess that started in ’71. Interesting. I retract my previous statement about wanting the standard version since you mentioned red/white courtesy lights on the doors. Love those.
Our 65 T-Bird had the red/white courtesy lights in the doors – loved them.
That pic is the one that I’d order. Perfect color!
Interior shot of my 65 T-Bird Special Landau
’66 Deluxe with crank windows on e-bay now.
http://www.ebay.com/itm/Oldsmobile-Toronado-Deluxe-RUST-FREE-BARNFIND-NO-RESERVE-RARE-DELUXE-PERFECT-RESTORATION-CAR-/321345583119?forcerrptr=true&hash=item4ad1b0780f&item=321345583119&pt=US_Cars_Trucks
It’s a great looking car…..
My ’62 500 XL had the white and red lights on the doors.
Those 500 XLs for 62-64 had beautiful interiors. I was blown away by the 62 when it came out. IIRC my dad’s 64 Fairlane Sports Coupe had red reflectors in the doors.
The rear door release handles alone were worth going to the Deluxe. They were one of my favorite parts of my ’65 Riviera. They were part of a “Custom” interior option on the Riv.
Love these cars. Olds spread this front end look across the line in ’66. My friend’s mom had a ’66 Ninety-Eight and it looked very similar, except that the highlights were at each end of the grill. It would have been very cool if they had hidden the lights behind the grill, but that may have been too forward for the conservative Ninety-Eight.
I wonder what the take rate was on the base models? My ref book is at home and I can’t recall if it broke out a base and deluxe version.
My ’65 Riviera had a deluxe interior that came power window only. I didn’t realize at the time that it may have been more the exception than the rule. I know the ref book doesn’t break it out. It was just another option on the list.
Thanks to the owner for letting you get some pics!
I found a source (OldsJunction) that breaks out production figures as 6,333 standard models and 34,630 of the Deluxe. I did not think to look into this, and did not realize how rare this one was.
The Standard Catalog of American Cars has the same info. The Standard started at $4,585 and the Deluxe at $4779. I found a price break out for power windows alone for 1967 at $104 dollars. For $195 the Deluxe was well worth it, especially if power windows came with it.
Power windows were not standard on the Deluxe.
Base Toronados were easily outsold by the Deluxe models. The standard job interior with vinyl bench seats and standard door panels with bolt-on armrests looked like something out of a Dynamic 88, while the Deluxe models at less than $200 more had a far more luxurious interior with a Strato bench seat in cloth or vinyl plus more deluxe door panels with larger full-length armrests and extensions ahead of the door handles for the optional power windows and other controls. This was quite a bargain as the Toronado Deluxe had Ninety-Eight – like interior appointments while the price difference between a Dynamic 88 Holiday Sedan and a Ninety-Eight Holiday Sedan was at least $1,200 – of course that difference was that the Dynamic 88 was a B-body car with the 2-barrel 425 Super Rocket V8, 3-speed manual transmission, manual steering and brakes, while the Ninety-Eight came in the larger C-body and many more standard items that cost extra on the 88 such as the 4-barrel 425 Super Rocket, 3-speed Turbo-Hydramatic transmission, Roto Power Steering and Pedal Ease Power Brakes – also all Ninety-Eights except the Town Sedan came standard with power windows and seat.
I’ll echo the crowd of voices that are aghast that the owner is driving that fine machine in the slush. The 66-67s are my favorite incarnation of the Toronado too.
I recognize that steering wheel. The Dodge Deora custom truck used a cut-down Toronado wheel.
A beautiful and original design. Shame, like the Riviera, it later lost it’s way. By ’71, it didn’t look remotely like the same model. I found the original ’66 front clip was the cleanest, and the only one I liked. They really started to do some strange, heavy handed treatments by ’68.
Meanwhile, the ’69 Grand Prix or ’70 Monte Carlo seemed closer to the direction I think the ’66 Toro could’ve evolved. In terms of being a stylish, well proportioned, personal luxury car. If a car was never designed for a vinyl roof, this was the one.
The first one was svelte and clean for a big car. Unfortunate the successive designs until ’79 were clumsy, to say the least.
The unfortunate thing about the Toronado is that Oldsmobile found that the more the Toro resembled an Eldorado, the better it sold. The 1971–1978 Toronado looks more like a ’69–’70 Eldo, but went over very well with buyers, much better than the original Toronado did.
Look at the size of the gas pedal, its the size of the rudder controls for a 707, I love that.
What a surprise that must have been JPC. You did a great job capturing the car and your thoughts about it then and now. That side view shot of the faded black car in the snow is as pretty a pic of the Toronado as I’ve ever seen.
Hope this comes up in internet searches for folks wanting to learn about the Toronado, it was awesome.
It was a very dark black-cherry kind of maroon. I think that the combination of low early morning light and the contrast with all of the snow on the ground (and salt dust on the car) gave my DroidCam a challenge in bringing out the color. But then very dark colors never seem to photograph well if you are trying to get the color to come across. Maybe Jim Grey will have some words of wisdom on this.
My name is not Jim Grey, but let me suggest this. Overexpose slightly on dark colours and you should get more hue. The hardest colour to shoot is dark green; my theory is that most cameras and film are calibrated for light coloured warms (I.e. skin tones) and dark green being the opposite on the complementary colour wheel as well as on the tone scale makes it a bee-ach to shoot.
Oldsmobile builds a Citroen DS/Cord, quite a find in survivor condition Ive only seen an over restored one closeup as they werent offered here new though there were bulletins about them sent to local GM dealers.
My uncle was an Olds man, and he had ordered a Toronado as soon as it was possible. I remember going with him to pick it up at the dealership in St. Louis. We did not come home with the car that day, as my uncle went over the entire vehicle with a fine tooth comb. He found literally dozens of blemishes is the silver paint. We went back a few days later, after they had spent days detailing, touching up, and trying to hide the imperfections. We left with the car, with again, numerous paint flaws, and a promise from the dealership GM that they would repaint the entire car if necessary.
To make a long story short, the car was a huge POS. The paint turned out to be the least of the problems, and the car spent more time in the shop than on the road. My uncle tried in vain to get them to buy back the car, but since this was long before poor new car quality had resulted in “Lemon Laws” being enacted, nothing ever happened. He ended up selling the car with less than 12K miles, in the first year, and he NEVER bought a GM product ever again.
Didja ever notice that very few gals drove those first gen Toros?
If there was ever a “Man’s car”, this one was!
A glance through ads on the web indicates it was pretty consistently marketed that way.
Great piece JP!
I always thought Oldmobiles in general, at least from that era, were men’s cars. Oldsmobiles and Chryslers. But my Mom had a couple of Oldsmobiles (70 Vista Cruiser, 74 Cutlass and an 82 Delta 88) so whatever, lol.
Anyway, it seems strange that the owner is looking to get the body done but yet is driving on what is probably salt-covered roads? I drive my 69 Charger every day but I live in southeast Virginia, so on the rare occasion it does snow, the Charger stays in the garage and the pickup comes out.
Thanks for sharing this story! I enjoyed reading others comments as well. I own two Oldsmobiles. One of them is a 1992 Oldsmobile Toronado. It was the last year for Toronado. I see how my car was influenced by this model. The 1st generation Oldsmobile Aurora was too. I do miss Oldsmobile and it should still be here today.
Thank you.
I’m torn on whether the Toro is a Deadly Sin or not. I guess as GM’s first foray into FWD as a big, lumbering luxo barge, it pushed back the whole idea of FWD being used in a small, efficient package. In that regard, yeah, it set back the whole program.
But that doesn’t make the Toronado any less special. It harkens back to those great years when a Toronado, Riviera, Eldorado, or Grand Prix were all distinct GM marques with their own special engineering, drivetrains, and styling.
Likewise, Oldsmobile tends to get forgotten in the pantheon of great automotive engineering, and that’s a shame. Even the iconic Pontiac musclecar marketing maven, Jim Wangers, himself, trawled around Detroit streets for races in the late sixties not in a Goat (as one might expect), but a Hurst Olds.
A good article on a beautiful and unique car that I haven’t seen on the road in a long time. There’s one of the same vintage hiding out in a garage a few doors down from a friend of mine – I’ll have to keep an eye out for it. The owner of the car you featured needs his butt kicked three ways (hard, fast, and repeatedly) for taking it out in the winter. Grab a brain! Drive a beater and store the Toro until the salt is off the roads.
It wasn’t one of these stunning early ones (I concur in the beauty of these cars) but my grandmother had an early 70’s Toronado, from what I remember from the picture I’ve seen a ’71 or ’72. This was when my mom and aunt and uncle were kids and my mom said she remembers my grandmother being excited that it had an 8-track tape deck and promptly ordered a box of 8-tracks from Columbia House. My grandmother still says it was one of her favorite cars she’s owned.
They got rid of it because it had some problem with the trans or front end or something and being FWD was going to be an expensive repair and my grandfather didn’t want to pay for it.
I worked on these cars when the came out … and they were ok, just weird at the time because the only other cars that had front wheel drive in the late 60’s were the Mini’s and you could darn near put one in the trunk …
The Old 455 was a solid engine for its time, and GM’s build quality led to a lot of cursing, especially before the brakes went to disc. Those drums were real marginal as I found out going down a long downhill run … almost put it in a tree.
I still have an Toronado connection today. The power plant in my GMC motorhome is a 455 Toronado with a few minor changes … the front wheel drive working great in this classic motor home. Nice to have that V8 rumble underfoot with plenty of power to scare myself silly on the interstates.
“Rescued” from the junkyard….and then its onto Craigslist for nice chunk of change.
So it is. Funny how much ice and snow and salt spray is on a car that “sits in my garage.” Anyhow, I hope someone with some cash can come along and give this car a good home. FWIW, I think that the owner may be a little optimistic on price. Good catch.
Ugh. This doesn’t bode well. That thing is priced a good three grand high at least, and the current owner is driving it around in the salt.
Hopefully someone can talk him down to a fair price and take care of it.
New heater cords are rare — no wonder he’s asking $8,500. It’s (NOT) nice to know it sits in his garage when he’s not driving it in the salt. He’d be better off leaving the car outside if he’s going to drive it in the winter & destroy it.
Our one of the first in Toledo Toro replaced a ’66 T-Bird, the second T-Bird turd my dad had in a row. He was done with Fords at that point, and the horrors of those two cars has probably kept me from ever seriously considering buying anything Ford makes, but their “styling” horrors from about 1970 until about 10 years ago didn’t help. My dad liked his Toro, a lot, except he complained about the crappy brakes, and he regretted getting the “champagne” (I don’t remember the exact name) color instead of the gold his 2 brothers got. It got the usual hop up stuff done to all his cars (A cam, and on his one T-Bird, headers (that was just another problem on a problem car), and it was seriously quick. I remember riding in my uncle’s stock Toro with the speedo rolled all the way around on the Indiana Toll Road, and it was a lot slower than my dad’s car, and I said, “Dad’s car is a lot faster then yours!”. Unc wasn’t happy with me, it seemed to start a series of problems between us that kept popping up until he died.
I don’t remember the Toro having any real issues, but, like my dad always did, when the Toro hit two years, it was time to go, and he sold it to the guy who bought all his old cars, and bought a ’68 Imperial, which was pretty good, with the exception of the A/C getting stuck on full cold all the time in the summer. My dad didn’t care, but it was crazy wearing a jacket in the summer because the car was so damn cold.
To echo the others, a gorgeous car. Wow!
I was in the 6th grade when these cars appeared, and I loved the body style. I still can’t help but stare whenever I see a 66 Toronado. Every year after that the looks went downhill, in my opinion. But for one year, wow!
In Britain, our biggest selling car, the BMC 1100/1300, had been fwd from the start in 1962, and road testers raved about the handling and the improvement in interior space over rwd cars. Actually, when fitted with the more powerful 1275 cc engine, which gave the car a top speed of 97 mph( excellent for such a small British car), this was a good car to drive. Mind you, unlike the Toronado, air conditioning and an 8 track weren’t on the options list, although there was a very nice Vanden Plas version with the 1275 engine and a wood and leather interior.
As regards the Toronado, quite space age, with the hidden headlights, Star Trek like dashboard and Batmobile shape, but obviously a car with a seven litre V8 and 12 mpg wasn’t likely to do much in Britain, even if it would have blasted a Jaguar and a Rolls Royce out of the way. Indeed, our idea of a big, powerful car was something like a Triumph 2000, itself a highly capable car with a smooth straight six, but in America would have been classed as a compact.
Superbly styled, but its weak brakes would have put me behind the wheel of its lovely Riviera sister, whose finned drums were much more up to the task.
It’s kind of hard to believe that back in the 1960’s dramatic styling what was these premium cars were all about. You wanted something that looked rakish and would impress everyone that saw it. Personal luxury cars were the “reward” for the successful Man of the family. Didn’t need to have room for he entire family, just the driver, his women, some golf clubs and weekend bags. The old Lady could haul the brats around in the station wagon during the week. Sorry if this sounds pretty sexist,but that’s how it was in those “Mad Men” days.
When I was in the 5th grade, my teacher had a collection of old National Geographic magazines, some of which dated from the 1950s and 60s (this would have been around 1990). When I got a chance to read them I’d pick out the oldest one I could find and pretty much just read the car ads. Your post made me think of this because one ad that really stuck with me stated pretty much exactly what you just said. It was a Ford ad from probably the mid 1950s. The gist of it was that every family should have two Fords — The man of the house needs a stylish Thunderbird to impress the guys at the office, and the wife needs a station wagon to haul the kids around. Even at age 10 I realized how sexist that sounded.
Now cmon….we know why you REALLY wanted to “read” those early NatGeos!!
A beat-up ’68 model appears in the Netflix adaptation of A Series of Unfortunate Events as Count Olaf’s car.
A friend has a theory: the ’68 Ferrari Daytona was directly inspired by the Toronado. Look at them side by side: Toro has that low belt line. So does the Ferrari. The Toro has a continuous plane from roof edge to the belt line. So does the Ferrari. Hidden headlights. The back panel lopped off, leaving an edge around it. All Toronado, and highly innovative when introduced. And cried line for line by Ferrari.
Too bad the Toronado didn’t have the Ferrari’s brakes.
And the Ferrari:
The theory is a bit weak. Although the Toronado had some influence in the design world at the time, and probably on the Ferrari Daytona too, it’s a real stretch to call it a “crib line for line”.
First of, there are some similarities, but many big differences. Neither car has a low belt line. Hidden headlights were hardly a novelty in 1966. The greenhouse is very different. The Ferrari lacks the very prominent fender bulges. And the “fuselage” style was hardly all-new either.
Take a look at the model for a car that Virgil Exner designed for a Fiat-Ghia proposal in 1962 or 1963. Does it look familiar?
Quick story: I worked as a “B” mechanic(used cars)in an Olds-Caddy dealer on Long Island back in the 60s. The plan was to work my way up to an “A” job(new cars), but then…Vietnam.
Anyway, got a phone call one early Sunday morning in the fall of 65 to tell me to get on down to the shop, they were unloading our very first Toro off the transporter. Needless to say, we were all oohing and aahing when we saw it. Of course being mechanics, we immediately popped the hood and then REALLY ooh’d and aah’d at the way they mounted the transmission with the driveshaft running thru a hole in the pan! Good times!
One of my favourite American cars, looks muscular and elegant, but bloody hell, drum brakes, even in the 60s!
I rebuilt a 75 Eldorado so very familiar with the front drive engineering, simple but quite clever and rugged if extremely heavy with all that cast iron
Had to laugh at the comment about GMs divisions defining your place in society to the Nth degree after the comments on this site about BMCs hierarchy
Love the 1966-67 Toronado & Riviera, not to mention the year later 1967 Eldorado. While I prefer the Riviera’s sporty and elegant style, I admire the sporty, masculine look of the Toronado. Its looks just scream big balls! Maybe it was those wheel arch flares. While the Riviera maintained somewhat of a belt line at the c pillar, Toronado eliminated it altogether, something really different for the time. Chryslers of ’63-’64 had a variation of this also, a step into more modern styling that was to come.
My one up-close-and-personal Toronado experience was a ride from Madras Oregon to Olympia Washington. The previous day I, with two Indians who gave me a ride, had almost been arrested for burglary just outside of Alturas in northeastern California. The trip had gotten to be a real drag and I just wanted it to be over then, like a gift from the Gods, this red Toronado pulls up, driven by a seven foot tall biker named Randy, and I had a ride all the way home. My run-in with redneck deputies the day before gave me an in with Randy. But the fun wasn’t over yet. Randy decided to stop at the bar of the Portland Meadows racetrack, called the Winner’s Circle, for a couple of beers. There were a couple of guys playing Hank Williams tunes accompanied by the bmp-chash sounds typical of a 1980 era drum machine, which sounded incongruous. Most of the people in the bar were shitface drunk and Randy became an object of fascination. Delmer and Shirley were also Toronado people and they regaled us with war stories. Shirley told me that one time Delmer was being held down by six guys and she was hitting them all with her spike heel shoe. Then it was time to go, but Randy wanted a six pack for the road. He pulled up next to a large American sedan with two guys in cowboy hats and asked where he could buy some beer. The reply was, “follow us.” Yeah, right. After a chase through the late night streets of Portland and running a few red lights, Randy pulled alongside and asked again. The reply was “Awww, ka-rist, ah thought you said strip joint.” Randy said, “Wait for us here, we’ll be fight back,” then pulled onto I-5 into Vancouver to find some off-sale beer. When I arrived in Olympia during the wee hours, I looked forward to being able to purchase my own car in a matter of months. But my extended hitch-hike days weren’t over quite yet. A little over two years later I was forced to hitch-hike from Mina Nevada to Seattle when a shared ride broke down. That one turned out kind of fun. There was the country singer Don in a Cadillac from Mount Lassen to Ashland, a true southern gentleman, and a survivalist hippie in a 1964 Scout, with whom I shared beer and renditions of Firesign Theater skits.