Curbside Classic: 1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille – The Last Of The Summer Citrus

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Friday, September 2, 2022.

I had the good fortune, along with my coworkers, to have been given the Friday before Labor Day off from work this year.  This effectively made it a four-day weekend, and as such, it felt like another small vacation much like the one I had experienced just a few weeks prior when I had gone to Indiana for the day.  Maybe five or ten years ago, I might have been planning my extended weekend around which parties to attend or bars to hit with my friends, but being in a different place now, I’ve been much more focused on trying to live life to the fullest and experiencing new-to-me things that have been right in front of me the whole time.

I had always functioned at an insanely high level between work, maintaining a busy social schedule, keeping physically fit, weekly creative writings, photography projects, and everything else, but I’m so much more productive now that I’m not spending entire mornings during the weekend getting “back to normal” after a late night out.  I’ll still hang with you, but I now value being present more than ever before and will have no issues with leaving once I’ve had enough social interaction.  I’m also much more selective with the quality and quantity of my friendships.

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Friday, September 2, 2022.

During that week of staycation in August, one of the areas I had explored locally was Montrose Beach & Harbor, in the Uptown neighborhood just south of mine on Chicago’s north side.  I had been ready to write about how it was the “first time” I had ever been to Montrose Harbor before I remembered I had been there about four years ago, as I had been invited to attend a car show by a member of the local chapter of a nationwide car club.  Getting to Montrose Harbor was something of an ordeal that last time around, as I wasn’t quite sure which CTA Red Line station would be best to deboard, and then how and where to cross DuSable Lake Shore Drive.  Happening across the harbor last month felt magical and almost like serendipity.  I was on one of my evening walks and at the point I would usually turn around to go home, I simply kept on walking since I didn’t have to go to work the next day, and thus, felt no obligation to get to bed early.

Montrose Harbor. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Monday, August 15, 2022.

Montrose Harbor.  Monday, August 15, 2022.

Walking along the docks of Montrose Harbor is a view into a world completely unfamiliar to me – a place inhabited by many people who own not only their home and at least one vehicle, but also a boat.  They can take them out into the water for maybe four months out of the year.  That’s luxury.  I’m beyond content with my modestly-sized condo and without a car, in the varied-income, beautifully diverse neighborhood where I feel safe, welcome, and a strong sense of community.  I have a few friends and acquaintances who own boats, and I enjoy seeing their social media posts about being out in what feels like a private club, bobbing gently on the lilting waves of Lake Michigan.

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille brochure photo, as sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.

“A legend becomes a lifestyle”, says the ’74 Cadillac brochure.  Sounds right to me.  Both boating and Cadillacs are worlds I’ll never know except as a participant through invitation.  I suppose the boating life is really no different than with someone who puts money into his or her classic car for enjoyment in the summer.  While I can swim well enough, I’d rather be on dry land where I can just leave if I want, so no boat for me, even if I came into unlimited wealth.  Still, we all have the right to spend our leisure funds where we enjoy them most, and I respect those who not only are able to boat, but are also good at it.

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Friday, September 2, 2022.

It was amid this monied environment while walking to Montrose Beach from a bus stop that I spotted this ’74 Cadillac Sedan DeVille parked right next to the harbor.  It was like a dream, a scene right out of an hourlong Aaron Spelling production from the 1970s.  I was tempted to post-process these pictures to look like period photos, but opted against it only because I wanted you to be able to behold this Cadillac’s glorious, factory Mandarin Orange finish (topped with a Sandalwood vinyl roof cover) as it appeared in present day, at almost fifty years old.  One can buy a new 2022 Cadillac XT4 and XT5 in eight colors specific to each line.  The usual options are accounted for, including shades of silver, red, white, black, blue, and brown.  According to two different sources I was able to reference, there were no less than twenty-four different exterior paint colors available from the factory for ’74 Cadillacs.

1974 Cadillac DeVille brochure page, courtesy of www.oldcarbrochures.org.

Among some of the more interesting options were Apollo Yellow in a light pastel, Persian Lime Firemist which was the color of a lime Lifesavers candy, and Chesterfield Brown Iridescent which resembled the innards of a Chesterfield cigarette, an association I couldn’t help making with this particular kind of Americana from a time when smoking was considered luxurious.  This Mandarin Orange color is as audacious as one might expect from a car that measures 230.7″ from end to end, is just shy of eighty inches wide at 79.8″ (six feet tall is 72 inches), and 54.4″ tall.

A 7.7 liter (472 cubic inch) V8 engine with 205 horsepower moves this two and a half ton car to sixty miles per hour in the eleven-second range, and will deliver fuel economy of approximately two dinosaurs a month.  Seriously, though, even in fossil fuel-strapped ’74, anyone who could afford this car could probably also afford to send the hired help to wait in the long, slow gasoline rationing lines.  The $8,100 starting price of a ’74 SDV translates to $49,000 in 2022.  These weren’t the most expensive luxury cars for their times, but they still cost plenty.

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Friday, September 2, 2022.

Seventy-four stands out as a year where pretty much every, single U.S. model of car had their exteriors significantly altered more than ever before, owing much to the new 5-mph standards to which both front and rear bumpers were held.  A vehicle had to sustain no significant damage to a car’s front and rear lighting following impact.  The 5-mph front bumper requirement that was introduced the year before seemed to be met by stylists with subtle and graceful efforts by many domestic manufacturers.  There were exceptions, mostly from Ford (Torino, I’m looking at you), but flipping back and forth between pictures of even a 1972 and ’73 Chevy Vega, there’s not a whole lot of apparent difference.  The front bumper of the ’73 Vega sticks out a little bit further, and not to the detriment of the car’s overall styling.  Your orange and white ’73 Millionth Edition Vega looked just as pretty stranded on the side of the road as your run-of-the-mill ’72 GT.

1974 Cadillac DeVille brochure page, courtesy of www.oldcarbrochures.org.

A luxury car like a Cadillac DeVille would be expected to have a significant refresh on a yearly basis up through the dawn of the 1980s, and its ’74 restyle was full of external changes.  Instead of listing them all out, I’d like to call attention to one, since we’re on the topic of bumpers.  The ’73 DeVille had its taillamps integrated into its chrome bumper unit which horizontally capped its rear fins.  For ’74, horizontal lights sprouted below and parallel to the trunk opening, and red reflectors / parking lamps were integrated into the bumper.  I’m not quite sure why, but this combo always seemed a bit busy to me, like there were too many things going on back there.  Other GM cars would feature this approach, including Cadillac’s Eldorado, and even Buick’s A-body midsizers (Century, Regal, and Special) of 1976 and ’77.  There are worse looks, but I think that, for ’74 anyway, Lincoln and Imperial had cleaner rear styling among the domestic luxury makes.

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Friday, September 2, 2022.

Coupe DeVille sales for ’74 stayed static, dipping just 1,000 units from the prior year to 112,000.  Sales of its four-door counterpart, however, tumbled over 40% to about 60,400 units.  How many other Mandarin Orange Sedan DeVilles besides this one were made that year, and what’s the number of those left in existence in 2022?  I liked that this example had a trailer hitch, which made me think that it might have been the rig to tow a small boat to Montrose Harbor, making use of the 365 lb-ft of torque put out by that 7.7 liter V8.  There was a little rust in the lower section, but not as much as there might have been for a car in this area of the country where lots of road salt is the norm during winter months.

This orange DeVille reminded me of the last orange in a beautiful, citrus gift basket that would be received during the end-of-year holidays.  You want to hang onto that orange just a little bit longer to prolong the enjoyment of what had been some of the tastiest fruit you had ever experienced.  It’s cold in December, and it’s going to stay that way for months.  Yet, brown spots will appear if you hang onto that orange for too long, and if you’re not careful, you’ll need to simply chuck it into the trash without even getting to taste its sweet nectar one last time.

1974 Cadillac Sedan DeVille. Uptown, Chicago, Illinois. Friday, September 2, 2022.

The end of summer saddens me, and I can’t help that.  Much like I would sometimes be among the last group of people left at the party, yukking it up and contributing to the laughs, it’s hard for me to let go of soaking up ample amounts of Vitamin D courtesy of the sun while being outdoors during the warmest season.  Over the past few years, I’ve been working to internalize the end of summer as being temporary and cyclical, versus something that falsely feels more permanent than it is.  Another day in this life is never guaranteed, but there will likely be another summer for me.  At the very least, I know that I made the absolute most out of another fantastic, sober summer, and for that, I’m thankful and smiling as I head into fall.

Uptown, Chicago, Illinois.
Friday, September 2, 2022.
Labor Day Weekend.