original junkyard photos by Jim Klein
Automotive history of the 1950s is commonly reduced to an orgy of fins, chrome, V8 engines and the inexorable influence of the longer, lower wider mantra. They were heady times for the Big Three, especially GM and Ford, as they rolled up ever bigger sales, market share and profits and steamrollered the independents. But one of those independents, Nash, started the decade with a brilliant and unique vision for a different sort of American car, the Rambler, as the way to survive.
Unlike the common image as boring cars for the thrifty and practical, Rambler started out very different, with Buick-territory prices targeting an affluent demographic—particularly women. Rambler in the early-mid ’50s was the closest thing there was to a chic, upscale continental-style American “import”; the BMW of its day. That’s how it survived the onslaught of three other new compacts in the first half of the ’50s and then just barely staved off extinction from a price war by Ford and GM. It then leveraged that image—along with more affordable prices—to fight back and take on the Big Three at the end of the decade. By 1960, Rambler had increased AMC’s market share by a whopping 270%.
How Rambler pulled that off is the biggest and most unlikely automotive story of the 1950s.
Defining “Compact”:
Before we take what’s going to be a deep dive on this subject, a brief note on the terminology of “compact”. Prior to 1962, when the Ford Fairlane introduced the concept and term “mid-sized”, which then defined compacts as a specific category, the term “compact’ was used to define any car that was relatively smaller than the traditional cars (not yet called “full sized”) from the Big Three and other independents. That leaves a bit of gray area, as the traditional big cars were mostly not all that big at the beginning of the decade, but grew dramatically throughout it.
For this exercise, compacts are defined as having a maximum 110″ wheelbase. That leaves at least two somewhat smaller cars out of the discussion, which I’ll address here briefly.
The 1949-1952 Plymouth P17, P21 and P22 series had a 111″ wheelbase, and was 185″ long. It was essentially a shortened (at the rear) version of the regular 118.5″ wb Plymouth, and only accounted for some 13% of total Plymouth sales, the majority of those being the wagon (more on that later). They were a short-lived attempt at something a bit shorter, but fall outside of our criteria.
Some may suggest that the Studebaker Champion should be considered a compact, due to its relatively narrower body and lighter weight. But there’s two arguments against that: in the early ’50s, its body wasn’t all that narrow in relation to other full-size cars, and its length was always very much full size. At 197″, this ’51 Champ is the same length as a ’51 Chevy. And in the later ’50s, the same was the case: the ’55-’58 Champion was a couple of inches longer than a ’57 Chevy. Length creates the visual indication of size, and impacts maneuverability and such. And its wheelbase (112″-116.5″) was always solidly in full size territory. For what it’s worth, the smaller of Nash’s “full size” cars, the Statesman, had a 112″ (later 114″) wheelbase, but was a bit over 200″ long too.
Although the term “sub-compact” didn’t exist in their time, I’m going to use it for the Crosley (l) and the Metropolitan (r), as they’re clearly well below the size and passenger capacity of the compacts in this analysis. But they are a reflection of the interest in such a category, as they both sold in not-utterly insignificant numbers during their peak years, the Crosley attaining a 0.8% market share in 1948, thanks in good part to the post-war seller’s market.
Setting the Stage:
Before we jump into what actually transpired in the great compact war of the ’50s, we need to consider what almost happened, but didn’t. The Big Three all had various experimental small car projects going back to the 1930s, when their cars started to grow and the Depression created interest in smaller and cheaper cars. These efforts were stepped up during WW2, as there was a widespread belief among economists that the country would fall into a deep recession after the war ended, as had been the case after WW1.
This resulted in some very well developed compact cars, and in one case, a quite ambitious one, in the form of the 1947 Chevrolet Cadet (above). The brilliant engineer Earle MacPherson headed up a development team and was given wide latitude to explore the concept of what a modern American compact car could be. The result was a compact and light (2200 lbs) sedan that seated four comfortably, and some of the solutions to achieving that end were novel. It had a 133 ci (2.1L) ohv six, with the transmission under the front seat for maximum space efficiency, four wheel independent suspension via the first intended application of MacPherson’s famed struts, as well as other advanced features.
It never went into production because it was deemed to be too expensive to achieve the high internal profit goals at GM at the time (30%), and GM anticipated the very issue that occurred in 1960 with Ford’s Falcon, that the Cadet would cannibalize the full size cars, which would then hurt their profitability from reduced volumes. Why build two lines of cars when one will do, especially when one has the volume to price the lowest trim versions at unbeatable prices?
Similarly, Ford developed a compact car in during and after war, intended to go into production in 1949. But when the 1949 Ford was reduced in size from its original Mercury body, Ford also anticipated the 1960 Falcon scenario of cannibalization and pulled the plug, sending off the final version to France in the form of the Vedette. I’m not sure what engine the US version would have had, as the French version was also given the old V8-60 flathead.
Chrysler also had various experimental small car programs active at the time, as a fall-back in case either Ford or GM put theirs into production. If any one of the Big Three had put their small car into production, the other two would almost certainly have put theirs into production also, as a defensive measure. This acted as a brake, as none of them wanted to start an unwinnable compact war. If it had happened, the independents would almost certainly never have jumped into the compact segment, and the automotive landscape would have been altered very significantly. Nash/AMC almost certainly would have died along with the other independents. The Big Three’s resistance to building compacts created an opening for the independents. It turned out to be a very compact opening.
As is invariably the case, the success story behind Rambler and the survival of Nash/AMC was written by an exceptional man. George Mason was not the typical automobile industry CEO. Highly intelligent, energetic, and visionary, Mason had a keen insight into human psychology behind consumer decisions. A key protege of Walter Chrysler, Mason moved on to head up appliance maker Kelvinator, where he quadrupled profits in the depths of the Depression, and made the firm the second largest appliance maker after GM’s Frigidaire. His experience successfully selling appliances mainly to women would color many of his future decisions at Nash/Rambler.
Approached by aging founder Charles Nash to be his successor, Mason insisted he would only come if Kelvinator came along too. The subsequent merger in 1936 created Nash-Kelvinator, and by 1940 the firm was enjoying strong profits.
Mason was progressive in his thinking, and adopted new ideas and technology readily. During the war years, he and his team of engineers explored aerodynamics in a wind tunnel. The result was the aerodynamic 1949 Airflyte range of full-sized cars, the 112″ wb Statesman (top) and the 121″ wb Ambassador, commonly referred to as “bathtub” Nashes.
Mason (r) had always been intrigued by smaller cars, which would eventually lead to the two-passenger Metropolitan, the Nash-Healey sports car, and of course the Rambler.
The 1950 Rambler:
What arrived late in the 1950 model year was very different than anyone might have expected an American compact to be, certainly so what GM, Ford, and Chrysler had in mind, and as we’ll see, what Kaiser, Hudson and Willys actually built. It was not just a smaller, cheaper sedan; it was a high-content, high-style small car with a body style utterly out of the ordinary: a fixed-profile convertible dubbed “convertible landau coupe” by Nash. The fixed roof rails allowed the unibody to be very rigid, and an electric motor opened and closed the top, not unlike a modern Fiat 500 and a few others.
click on all images for max size
The Rambler came fully equipped with standard features that even Cadillacs didn’t have: whitewall tires, full wheel covers, clock and even an AM radio. Price? $1808, almost 30% more than a basic Chevy full size sedan and $5 more than a Buick Special fastback 8 cylinder coupe. Now that was different and unprecedented.
The Rambler’s target demographic was all-too obvious: style-conscious women who could afford a stylish car.
Like Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet. “Superman” was my tv screen introduction to the Nash Rambler, as I don’t ever remember seeing one of these convertible landaus in Iowa City after we arrived in 1960.
What would this demographic be buying in 1960? A Karmann Ghia or Corvair. And in 1965? Mustangs, of course. And in 1980? A VW Cabriolet or a BMW 320i. George Mason was way ahead of his time, and playing the long game. He rightfully anticipated that the Big Three would crush the independents’ big cars through their huge volume and pricing, so he was positioning Rambler in a niche of its own, along with some of the early imports. Establishing the right public perception was more important than volume; that could and would come later. It’s the same playbook used by almost every successful new premium-brand introduced in the US; mostly imports, of course.
The convertible landau was just the opening act.
Quite late in the 1950 MY, a cute little wagon appeared, being admired once again by only women. And yes, that body style was almost as radical as the convertible landau. It’s easy to forget, but before WW2, essentially nobody bought station wagons for personal use; they were expensive, built out of maintenance-intensive wood, and were bought for commercial use or for ferrying guests at a rich man’s hunting lodge or country house.
Willys broke the mold with their all-steel 1946 wagon (with faux wood-grain paint). It was the first step in domesticating the station wagon, if a bit too Jeep-like for women. The Willys Wagon essentially saved the company after the war, as its Jeepster was a sales dud.
Plymouth went one step further with their 1949 all-steel Suburban. It was on the short 111″ wheelbase, and only 185″ long, and as such can be considered a near-compact. To put it in perspective, its dimensions are almost identical to a modern Toyota RAV4; no wonder the Plymouth wagon was a hit with women and young families: compact, easy to drive, and plenty of room for kids and whatever needed hauling.
The Rambler wagon was something totally new again: the first lifestyle wagon ever; the Audi Avant of 1950. Like the convertible landau, it was equally-well equipped and priced at the same $1808 in 1950, but both had a substantial increase in price for 1951: $1993. America’s first premium compacts.
1951 brought the third addition to the Rambler line: a hardtop coupe. Still no sedan! Hardtop coupes were the hot new thing, having been pioneered by GM just two years earlier. Rambler beat Ford and the other independents in the hardtop race.
It’s easy to dismiss these little Ramblers from a modern perspective as dumpy and silly little cars, but that would be missing what was the most important story of the early 1950s. They were bold and stylish at the time, and the choice to start with these three highly unusual body styles was radical and unprecedented.
A key part of making the Rambler appealing to fashion-conscious women was that its interior fabrics and trim were designed by the renowned Helene Rother, who had been GM’s first woman interior designer back in 1943. A woman’s touch can’t be easily faked.
Let’s take a closer look at the technical aspects of these initial Ramblers, as they largely formed the basis of every Rambler to come until 1963/1964. Nash was a pioneer in unitized body construction (unibody) having switched to that back in 1941. This alone was technically advanced and almost unique in the US at the time, along with Hudson. It created a strong, stiff structure, which contributed to the Rambler’s feeling of solidity and more worthy of a premium price, especially compared to the oft-willowy BOF cars from other manufacturers.
The Rambler’s front suspension was similar to that used on the large Nashes, with long coil springs seated above the upper control arms. Ford (and others) would adopt this with their 1960 Falcon, and use it for two decades. Although the trunnions that were necessary in that pre-ball joint era later got a bit of a bad rep, it was also a very advanced design at the time, offering a good ride as well as decent handling.
The following description of this system (and related issues and repairs) is from this site, which describes more detail and rebuilding:.
This is a double wishbone and trunnion system, with the road spring directly over the steering knuckle, in line with the virtual kingpin. This design has wonderful control over understeer in turns, and an anti-roll bar is unneeded (and not available). The spring carries load directly, not multiplied by moment (distance from fulcrum) so the spring is softer and lighter. Spring-over-knuckle also eliminates decreasing roll resistance in turns, a characteristic of most American suspensions through the 1980’s, often compensated for by anti-roll bars. The downside of the spring-over-knuckle system is that it is very tall — this really limited AMC’s styling choices until the adoption of the new system in 1970.
The upper control arm trunnion system fails more often than not. The head of the trunnion pivot bolt is supposed to “jam” on the leading arm, and a nut and lock washer jams the bolt to the arm on the other (at pink Y). This does not survive ordinary use patterns.
The bolt is supposed to rigidly connect the arm halves, and pivot within the casting. What usually happens is that given the large contact area the bolt freezes in the casting. This forces the bolt to rotate in each arm half, stripping the threading in the thin, stamped arms. No longer a stiff A-arm, all of the components shift around in operation, ruining the arms.
The rear suspension was a typical Hotchkiss set-up, with a live axle suspended on semi-elliptic leaf springs. This would be used on the 100″ wb Ramblers until their end in 1964, and on the 1954-1955 108″ wb Ramblers before being replaced by a coil spring and torque tube drive design in 1956.
The Rambler’s flathead six displaced 172.6 ci, and was rated at 82 (gross) hp. This small Nash six dates back to the semi-compact Nash 600 from 1941. Weighing 2430 lbs, the Rambler had a favorable power-to-weight ratio for the times, and was deemed to be relatively nimble. A test by the British Magazine Motor yielded a 0-60 time of 21 seconds, which was quite typical of the times, and a top speed of 81 mph. Fuel economy was 25 mpg. Overdrive was optional, and Ramblers quickly established a reputation for good mileage; 30 mpg was possible with a light foot. Handling, steering and braking were all deemed to be good to very good.
As is quite obvious, the engine is a rather wedged in between the massive inner fender bulges, due to the narrow track of the front wheels (52.25″), in order to provide adequate movement for them inside the covered outer fenders. The turning circle was 37 feet, not superb but not bad considering the design of the skirted fenders.
The Rambler had a stylishly simple instrument panel—not unlike the recent Fiat 500—which reinforced its image. The column shifter was nicely enclosed unlike most at the time, and the single round combo instrument was easy to read. It had a decidedly European air, as did much of the car. Nash’s vastly superior integrated heating and ventilation system only enhanced the positive qualities further.
The Rambler was billed as a five passenger car; three in the front and two in the back, where the wheel wells intruded into the seat cushion. Its exterior width was fairly ample at 73.5″, thanks to its bathtub styling. Interior width was of course not quite up to the bigger cars, but at 56.2″ inches at the front (hip and shoulder room) it was just a hair less than the 1960 Falcon would have.
We’ll get to some detailed sales analysis with charts a later, but sales for an abbreviated 1950 totaled 11k and 69k in 1951. But here’s the most significant number: 50% of those were for the wagon. That is utterly unprecedented; as a point of comparison, the popular Plymouth all-steel wagon represented all of 6% of 1950 Plymouth sales and at Chevrolet, wagons were 2% of the total. Although those percentages would not quite hold up, Rambler would go on to consistently have much higher share of its sales be wagons than any other manufacturer.
Despite the addition of two and four door sedans in 1955, that year Rambler wagons’ share of sales increased further, to 55%. And in 1959, it was still at 44%.
As a point of comparison, wagons made up 9% of Chevrolet’s sales in 1955, and 17% in 1959. It was slightly higher at 19% for Ford in 1959. Rambler had staked a claim to compact wagons, and held it. It became a key aspect of their image, which continued to resonate with a key demographic; buyers who eschewed excessive size and poor space utilization for the inherent advantages of a wagon. They really were the Volvo wagon of its time.
Page 2: The compact competition:
Another excellent piece Paul. 🙂
The 1959 picture of Romney in front of what seems to be the AMC hq got me wondering about its location.
While Kenosha was always the home of Nash, it turns out that Kelvinator was based in Detroit, and after the merger the Nash offices moved into the Kelvinator factory as well.
It became the AMC headquarters until the early ’70s when they built a tower in the suburbs. I remember it as a landmark on trips to Detroit when I was young.
The old Kelvinator facility remained in use by the engineering department all the way until 2009 when Chrysler moved the last employees out.
Great article. The junkyard pictures show a detail I hadn’t seen before. The Rambler shared Nash’s unique turn signal lever, with the handle doing the flashing; and it was pivoted from the dashboard like the shift lever.
I suspect the wheels were finally opened in ’55 as a way to halfway Hudsonify the Rambler, to make it acceptable to non-Nash loyalists.
One quibble: The Wayfarer had its own two-door sedan, which was a cute bobtail unlike the Plymouth fastback. The bobtail has turned out to be the most collectible in recent years.
I’ve decided to delete the Wayfarer, as it was 195″ long. That was full-sized length at the time.
Great writeup, as usual. But I think the engine in the Willys Aero Eagle was an F-head, not a full OHV.
Yes
Oops; fixed now.
If that’s the only mistake, I’ll be surprised.
Americans weren’t very worried about fuel economy or good handling in the early 50’s, Buick was number three in the sales race.
I disagree, about fuel economy. Gas cost $0.27 in 1952, which is $2.67 adjusted. Real adjusted purchasing power was substantially lower then. Car ownership costs were considerably higher then than now. And fuel cost was a real factor in that.
That’s why more efficient cars were always bragging about their fuel economy in ads, and why the Mobil Fuel Economy Runs were a big media/PR event.
Sure, there were more affluent folks for whom it didn’t matter. But for the average worker, fuel cost was a real issue.
People drove much less back then, which is one reason fuel economy wasn’t an even bigger issue. If they had the long commutes of today, and ferried their kids around to school and after school events, it would have been a more serious financial impact.
On an inflation-adjusted basis, gas went down in price slowly (on average) during the 50s and ’60s. The low point was in the late 60s. By that time real adjusted incomes were also much higher, so cars with bigger engines and less economy were not as much of a factor as they had been in the 50s.
As to handling, it was a factor too, just not so much as we think of it. Without power steering, how easily cars steered and handled in every day driving was a very real issue, especially for women. Which was a major reason they preferred cars that were more compact, since they were the ones likely to be parking at the store and at school and such.
An often overlooked expense was the short life expectancy of the average automobile. Many US made cars required major mechanical repairs starting about 60,000 miles. It was typical for cars to need a valve overhaul and “de-coking” of the valve stems about then. Except for the more expensive cars, it was common to see engine overhauls starting around 75,000 miles.
Technology and manufacturing limitations meant small but crucial mechanical items [like tapered & roller bearings & oil seals], began failing, and don’t forget that brake overhauls typically happened every 30,000 miles. Most manufacturers specified regular engine oil changes and chassis lubrication schedules at 1,000 miles.
There has been much written about car manufacturers creating “Planned obsolescence”, making it necessary to trade in the family car every few years. But the truth is that people who could afford to do so, often traded in or sold their cars, prior to having to spend additional money on a rapidly depreciating asset.
However this began to change after the post-war sales boom receded, as families were keeping their primary car longer and buying a second car. That second car was typically a smaller car. This is one of the reasons cars like Rambler did well at first. It’s also why Rambler wagon sales were higher than the big 3. Suburbanites were discovering the benefits of having a wagon as their second car, at the same general time the costs of wagons was dropping.
My father often told me that car ownership in the 1950’s was much more expensive than in the 1990’s, when he passed. His own car selections were totally in line with rising incomes. Car loans here in Canada were rarely more than three years, so buying a new car was quite an achievement for many.
The Dodge Wayfarer was also offered as a two-door sedan. We had ours from 1950 until 1957. As for the Rambler, my aunt and uncle bought one in its reiteration in 1958. My brother, who was old enough to drive at the time, loved the car for its handling. The interior was spartan but the car was comfortable, until the day that six of use sat in the six-passenger vehicle and proved it to be not fit for the advertised passenger capacity. But the car still drove well with the load.
It’s beyond the scope of the article but the 100″ wb Rambler’s overall width decreased from 73″ to 70″ when the ’61 reskin finally presented an opportunity to trim away the excess that had been needed for the skirted front wheels to turn. That must be an all-time record narrowing in less than a clean-sheet redesign. It’s a shame Farina wasn’t given the changed dimensions to work with a decade earlier.
Some sources say the basic two-door sedan had been tooled up for 1950 and dropped at the last minute, and a (very) small number were even actually built for export. As discussed earlier ( https://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/cc-cohort/cohort-outtake-1953-canadian-nash-rambler-or-is-it-nash-rambler-canadian/ ) it appeared in Canada immediately once Korean War shortages ended rather than continuing to wait out the Ford-Chevy price war.
Yes, that Canadian two door sedan is a curious oddity. And it certainly wouldn’t have taken much to create, just one big roof stamping.
I did fail to mention steel shortages due to the Korean War influencing the early Ramblers. It no doubt added further impetus to go for a low-volume, high-content strategy.
Thanks Paul, this was a fascinating read and a bit myth-busting as well. By the time I became auto-aware in the early sixties, Ramblers were seen as dull and cheap, especially the older skirted versions which were still quite common, though often in bright yellow or aqua colors which seemed incongruous. You made an interesting analogy with the Volvo wagon. I thought of Subaru, a company which didn’t try to take on Toyota/Nissan etc head on, but instead built an innovative brand around being practical and different. It was interesting to see the numbers on Henry J sales as being higher than Willys or Hudson compacts; I remember seeing quite a few running around the Bay Area, which of course was Kaiser country. Or maybe I just noticed them, with their distinctive styling. Anyway, this post is quite the opus!
Wow, what a treasure-trove of information about this fascinating market phenomenon.
I love the charts, which really drive the point home. I don’t think I’d realized before just how interesting the timing was that the other American compacts (Henry J, etc.) flamed out just before the compact boom associated with the 1958 recession. I guess to some extent, Rambler benefited from being the last man standing at that time.
Thanks for all the effort on this piece — this was great to read, and I’m sure I’ll circle back to read it again, too.
As someone who also writes CC posts, I must assume that this must have taken hours of painstaking work! (Worth it, my opinion.)
A question not fully answered–why, even in the ’60s, were these early Ramblers almost never seen? They look like pure, appealing designs–and the small size and basic engines (easy to work on) would make them low-burden collectables. I guess no one cares about them? Or they’re not durable? The exception is the still common Metropolitan, which was not mentioned. Other low-production cars (like 55-57 T-Birds) are still regularly seen.
Ditto the other independent compacts. I’ve never seen an Aero; In the ’80s I regularly saw a Jet in the library parking lot, but that’s it. Not even abandoned in the woods. I saw my first and only Henry J at a show 15 years ago. 49-54 Chevy, Ford, Plymouth– seen plenty.
The “death of the big car” thesis: It doesn’t explain why after people saw the advantages of smaller size, big cars continued to SELL big in the 60s & 70s, even as they got BIGGER and more ridiculous/mundane, with “We’re out of ideas” styling–vaguely boxy with amorphous curves and trimmed with plastic neo-classical add-ons. The mid-80s is when the downsizing really occurred–and that was largely by government mandate.
Today, cars are smaller than the old full-size. But now we have huge trucks & SUVs dominating the road!
Henry J’s quickly became the “Chevy Monzas” of the ’60’s. A lot of them were “tubbed” to put in big slicks and had Chevy and Chrysler V8’s installed and set up for drag racing because of their small light bodies and were dirt cheap to buy in the ’60’s. I’m sure most of those were crashed or otherwise discarded.
I even remember seeing 1/25th scale model kits of Henry J drag racers on store shelves back in the day.
And that’s pretty much been a staple in the Revell lineup ever since. Every few years they bring it back. Don’t have any photos of mine though.
Correction: I forgot that you mentioned Metropolitan in the beginning.
Once the four-seat Thunderbird debuted for 1958, resale values of the two-seat models held up well. That probably encouraged their preservation. I have a Special Interest Autos issue from 1972 that compares a 1956 Thunderbird to a 1960 convertible. The article claims that the two-seat Thunderbird used for the comparison had been restored in the late 1960s.
I never saw a first-generation Rambler in real life until the 1980 Hershey Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA) fall show. I saw my first Hudson Jet and Willys Aero in the spring of 1979, when I took a field trip with a high-school teacher to a warehouse filled with worn, unrestored cars owned by a collector in the Carlisle area.
Yes, the two-seat Thunderbird was an instant classic from the day it was replaced by the four seater in 1958. Everyone who loved them knew that it was something special and not likely to ever come back.
We had a neighbor in Iowa City who had a beautifully preserved ’56 TBird, and this was in 1961 or so. The survival rate of these must be some of the highest of any car ever.
Meanwhile, old Ramblers had zero following, and were either run into the ground or cut up into restomods, which was a a bit of a fad for the early 2-door cars.
I remember seeing 1 Sears Allstate in a junkyard, it appeared to be in a penned off area to be “saved”. It was complete and looked restorable. It was the only 1 I ever saw.
Paul I find it amusing you didn’t much care for the roof profile of the Cross Country wagons. Nissan did a pretty blatant rip-off of that same roof line on an earlier generation of the Armada SUV. I understand why Rambler did it, to use the same rear doors as the sedans. Why Nissan used that design is an utter mystery.
I noticed that Armada roof dip the first time I saw the 1st gen Armada twenty years ago. You and I assume a straight, flat wagon roofline is desirable and anything else is a compromise. Imho Nissan stylists didn’t see a compromise. I suspect they incorporated the feature to appeal to baby boomers, as a retro classic touch, reminiscent of the 50s wagons of their childhood.
Excellent, well laid out! The article does provide one interesting fact after another, and many of us can relate to the shot with “Lois Lane” about to get herself into trouble so that Superman would be needed for ANOTHER rescue!!!
Thanks for a very fine look back in the rear view mirror!! 🙂 DFO
An excellent walk through the Rambler’s formative years. I think it’s fair to say that up through at least 1955 the Rambler was a niche vehicle – a niche that Mason and Nash exploited nicely. Even as lower price/trim models became available, the Rambler never took on the “cheap car” vibe that other compacts had.
I would argue that Rambler started to make the same mistake Studebaker did in 1956 – going bigger. The car really didn’t do that well in the first couple of years, but then the US Big 3 really opened up a lane for Rambler after 1956-57. Studebaker should have been able to exploit that a bit but by 1957-58 the car was clearly ancient and not that appealing, whereas the Rambler was new and fresh (or at least seen that way). Plus the 100 incher came back to serve the low and cheap end.
I think that the Champion of 1947-52 exploited a niche of its own – at a wheelbase of 112-115 it was bigger than the Rambler, but its width, weight and economy were closer to Rambler than to the low priced 3. It allowed buyers to find a happy medium between smaller size and efficiency on one hand and being “a real car” on the other. But then it got bigger and outdated and by 1956 didn’t really have anything unique to offer.
I would argue that Rambler started to make the same mistake Studebaker did in 1956 – going bigger.
Well, unlike Studebaker, the ’56 Rambler’s modest increase in size actually resulted in something useful: a bigger interior, and not just longer overhangs and fins.
And since the Big Three cars were getting so much bigger at the time, the ’56 and up Ramblers were just right-sized, in my opinion, quite suitable for growing families, and able to be competitive to the Big Three, as there was very little trade-off in interior space except for a bit of width. The packaging on these Ramblers was really quite good, by virtue of not being too low. For a 108″ wb, they were really closer to mid-sized. In fact, they have more hip/shoulder room than the ’62-’64 Fairlane and Meteor.
Paul, I mean this as the highest compliment: your writing and exposition are rapidly approaching the level of Aaron S. at Ate Up With Motor.
Thanks.
I don’t try to compare myself to Aaron, and I make it a practice not to read his articles before I write mine, as a matter of principle.
My approach is somewhat different than Aaron’s. I spend a lot of time searching for and selecting images. I’m very visually oriented, and my background in tv undoubtedly reinforced that. I find the lack of images in Aaron’s articles problematic. He often refers to obscure cars or things, and without a visual reference, its meaning or impact gets lost or diminished.
Aaron is a classic anorak/geek: his command of minutiae is superlative. I’m more of a generalist and big-picture person. I want to know how the facts and details fit into the larger context.
And I like busting myths, including several that Aaron has repeated. If something doesn’t sound logical or right to me, I will question it.
Did that bizarro Di-Noc application on the ’56 wagon make it to production?
I have to wonder if the AMC V8 would have happened at all had they realized they could probably pick up the tooling for the Packard V8 they were already using for a song by mid-1956. Instead this less-than-2-year-old engine was simply junked. Meanwhile, David Potter’s V8 actually did make it into a Kaiser, since it was used in some ’60s Jeep Wagoneers. (Kaiser switched to the Buick Dauntless V8 after that, but after AMC bought Jeep they quickly went back to using their own engines).
Presumably.
And the hardtop wagons were actually built. George Ferencz sent me these vintage classified ads for a few.
By that time (1956) the Rambler V* was undoubtedly already far along in its development. And it was a bit smaller and lighter than the Packard V8.
They were in the catalog for four years, on the 108″ wb in ’56-7 and as an Ambassador exclusive in ’58-9. I had wondered if you had been saying they may not have made it for ’56.
Yes. it’s impossible to find one with a Google Image search. And, it’s not shown in the ’56 Rambler brochure.
http://www.oldcarbrochures.com/static/NA/AMC/1956_AMC/1956_Rambler_Brochure/dirindex.html
I was more inquiring if the weird di-noc woodgrain layout made it to production not the hardtops, which at least eventually did, but I’ve never seen a picture of one with the woodgrain in the usual ’56 two-tone area.
According to the ‘Standard Catalog of Independents’ The 1956 hardtop versions were only available in the top-line Custom trim-level along with sedan versions. The production is lumped together, for the four door sedan and hardtop: 2,155, for the station wagon counterparts: 402. How few of those were hardtops, we’ll never know. Surveying the hardtop production number in subsequent years to 1960, few broke more than a few hundred units, only over a few thousand in the last years, always in the top trim series.
I only ever saw one four door hardtop in those years in spite of having a number of successful American Motors dealers within twenty-five miles here in Western New York. An elementary school teacher who lived only a mile away on a farm had a pink and white 1959 Ambassador four door hardtop. I would see it frequently as she drove home after school was out.
That di-noc treatment is wild!
What a treat on a dreary winter Monday morning (at least, here in Pennsylvania). The first-generation Ramblers had disappeared from around here by the time I was noticing cars (late 1960s). I never saw one in real life until I attended my first Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA) Hershey show in 1980.
Interesting that George Mason was smart enough to position the first Rambler as a premium small car, and didn’t try to sell the car primarily on low price. It was a small car, but not a cheap car.
I do believe, however, that Chrysler Corporation did beat the Nash Rambler in offering a hardtop. The Chrysler Newport, DeSoto Sportsman and Dodge Diplomat debuted for the 1950 model year.
Thanks. And quite right about the Chrysler hardtops. I’ve amended the text.
I’d kill to own a fully restored wagon. And that IP is a work of art.
Only period photo I’ve seen of a Willys Aero at curbside, taken early ’60s in front of the Jacob Starr House in Wilmington, Delaware:
(Click photo to rotate).
Thanks for taking the pictures and weaving the story/history around them, it turned out even better and more interesting that I ever imagined. That little wagon was (and is) such a little looker, it’s surprising there aren’t more of them around.
And the whole Nash / Hudson / Rambler / AMC intertwinedness is finally starting to come together and make a bit more sense. Rambler’s intrigue me and as with others I was much more familiar (familiar being a vast overstatement) with their later offerings and sort of equated them to more of a budget make, with this that clearly was not always so, making it ever more interesting.
A fine example of info (and image) gathering and story telling, which sets a great example for anyone contributing at CC–I’ve read it through twice already today. Terrific!
What an amazing piece of work, Paul. I have never known much about Rambler cars, since I was born just a little too late for the earlier models covered here. I did see a fin-bedecked version and I think fins don’t really work on a car this size.
Were I to buy a new car in say, 1961, it would for me be either a Rambler or a Valiant.
Growing up in Chicago, AMC products were everywhere during their heyday. Kenosha is a far northern Chicago suburb, after all. Little Rambler dealers were all around the old suburban downtowns. In Lansing Illinois, just a block off the border with Indiana, was a big filling station that was converted during this time into a dealership called Springer Rambler. It was there that I bought my first car – a used Plymouth Valiant.
Blue collar families drove Ramber wagons and they were plentiful in the subdivision I grew up in. They were the Hyundai, Nissan and Kia of that era. It wasn’t unusual for the many families in my neighborhood to have a Rambler daily driver for Mom, and an imported car for Dad. They were seen as durable rides and to this day, I have a weakness for the 1960 Rambler Classic. My dad had two of them, a 1960 and a 1962, along with many Beetles. Our neighbors had a 1960, along with a Volvo. My other next door neighbor had a 1962 along with many different kinds of VWs. Many of our neighbors were born in other European countries and migrated to Chicago after WWII. They all drove some kind of a Rambler.
These are a few of my favorite childhood memories. I’ve written about kid adventures in the “way back” of a Rambler wagon. My first overnight road trip was taken as a kid lying on my back in a Cross Country wagon, speeding around the Lake Michigan shoreline in Michigan.
Ramblers were perfect for my childhood memories. Simple, long lasting, and honest.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/auto-biography/kid-freedom-in-a-rambler/
Vannie
As a kid, I could not have imagined a day when there wouldn’t be AMC products on every block in Northern Illinois.
I don’t have anything to add other than that was a bloody good read, Paul.
This read has been the highlight of my day! This connects and clarifies many gaps I had in my understanding of Rambler’s perception through the 50s, with the 50 being up in aspirational Buick territory and the 60 “American” of essentially the same bones being a fairly hohum entry level car I had a hard time computing, I have misconceived habit of looking at the regular Rambler of 1956 not as a slightly larger companion, forgetting it was the successor, and that the revival of the old in the American was in fact the companion. I’m not a wagon guy but I do love the wagons, both designs, and despite the Pininfarina stuff later in the run I truly think the earlier the prettier, give me those bathtub fenders any day. 🙂
The front suspension design is really interesting to me, all Ford and Chevy(with the Chevy II) really fundamentally did differently from Rambler was use upper ball joints in place of the trunnions and put the shock inside the spring, and interestingly when AMC got into Trans Am Racing in the late 60s the engineers reverse engineered the suspension of the competition Mustangs to incorporate into all of their 1970 models, including finally switching to upper ball joints
There was a Ford hardtop in 51 though, the Victoria, it was a one year wonder on the old 49-51 body
Another half-serving of cheesecake, likely promoting the climate control:
That photo may have been taken in front of the Petrifying Springs (golf course) Clubhouse, Kenosha County. Sure looks familiar; I worked at the park there several summers.
I reckon this is your best article ever Paul. Well done, and thank you for it.
Magnificent article, Paul, thank you for taking the time to write such a thorough assessment of this important automotive trend. I’ll be recommending it to others as a standard read for understanding of the period.
Regarding the 100″ wb Rambler deletion from the 1956-’57 offering, some possible reasons to consider:
First might simply have been some body dies were wearing out, which needed replacement to continue production.
Second was volumes for the two door models had flatten after the 108″ models arrived. Adding the number arrives at approximately 15,000 annually, though that includes some Country Club hardtops and convertible landaus.
Third would be fears they might divert attention and sales from their all-new ’56 Ramblers on which all their hopes were invested.
Fourth was AMC was so financially strapped they could only afford the overhead to produce the new Ramblers while still carrying the faltering Nashes and Hudsons which they had dealer contracts to fulfill. Those were a precarious years for AMC’s survival.
Or. Maybe none of the above…
Thanks.
I’d go with number three. Presumably they wanted to only show/sell the fresh new faces for ’56; putting all their eggs in the 108″ basket. And prices were higher accordingly: A DeLuxe 4 door sedan cost $1695 in ’55; $1829 in ’56. And they had no more cheap $1585 two doors in ’56. They were trying to move back up in pricing with the new cars.
They still sold 20k of the 100″ cars in 1955.
I concur that number three was most likely the primary motivation. Romney admitted in later interviews he went all-in on the new Rambler for 1956, ‘betting the farm’ as it were. At the same time, he recognized any held-over models sold primarily on price could divert sales away from the critical new car. He was savvy enough to see the Nash-Hudson cars were a dead end, only the weaning process for the dealers to see they had a viable new product was necessary to carry those until Rambler took hold. The precarious state of AMC finances at the time might have influenced the decision as well.
In affect, the increased prices on the all-new 1956 Ramblers somewhat repeated the initial Rambler introduction: sell to a premium segment as an acceptable second car that one need not be embarrassed by as a poverty-wagon. Henry J never understood that poor folks didn’t buy new cars then and definitely wouldn’t any new car that displayed their poverty for all to see.
Reintroducing the 100″ wb Ramblers to the recession-ravaged 1958 economy as price leaders was also a brilliant move. Romney certainly had a prescient grasp of what the American consumer would embrace.
What a tour de force of an article! It nicely fills in all the gaps about my knowledge of Rambler’s early history. For example, I didn’t realize the “all new” 1956 Rambler was a heavily reworked variant of the 108-in wheelbase 1955 Rambler.
Just one question — when did the 108-in wb 2-door sedan appear after 1956? I recall seeing a 1962 example on the street in the 1990s, but I’m thinking it must have been introduced some time earlier.
Regarding the other early American compacts, I don’t recall ever seeing the Kaiser Aero on the streets, but there was a fellow student in my elementary school whose parents had a Hudson Jet. This was around 1960. Also, I saw Henry J’s fairly regularly back in the day and even got to ride in one.
I believe that the two-door sedan reappeared for the 1962 model year.
Yes, 1962. And quite odd, given that it lasted all of one year. Yet they had to tool up new longer front doors and all. One of those great automotive mysteries.
This one appeared recently for sale in South Dakota:
Great overview of a tale I knew little about. Spotting a niche has become a key for many over the years. See SAAB Turbo or Combi Coupe, Peugeot 407 Coupe, or MINI for more details.
Interesting to see the 1951 ad captions a wagon as the “Rambler All Purpose Sedan”, which looks like a low content version of Greenbrier.IS this just virtue out of necessity or were Mason and Romney thinking “hatchback” as well as semi-premium convertible?
What a superb post. Learned a lot! Compacts (especially from the 50s) are not what the rest of the world thinks when discussing American cars, yet there was a lot to chose from. Poor Hudson Jet. It was really a complete dud all round. And the less said about the Henry J the better. The Willys is the best looking of the bunch, but never had the career it deserved – until it emigrated to Brazil.
The Rambler, design-wise, is an odd duck. That bathtub style fit the big Nashes better than this little bugger. Still, at least it looked like nothing else on the road – a fine tradition that AMC kept with their smaller cars through to the Pacer. I will say that the dash of these early Ramblers is a delight. That aged much better than the rest of the car.
Speaking of the Willys Aero, Hemmings blog have a good article about the big reskin then Brooks Stevens did for Willys do Brazil along with photos showing earlier proposed drawings for the restyling.
https://www.hemmings.com/stories/2015/08/03/brooks-stevens-the-willys-aero-and-how-the-studebaker-gran-turismo-hawk-got-its-roofline
And of course, Curbside Classic have also an article about the Willys Aero who ended its Brazilian career as a Ford model when Ford acquired Willys do Brasil.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1953-willys-aero-lark-the-failed-sneak-preview-of-the-falcon-lark-and-other-compacts/
I thoroughly enjoyed your excellent write up, Paul. As a car loving kid in the 60’s, I don’t remember seeing any early Ramblers. The first ones I noticed were from about ’58 on up which makes sense given the production numbers. I always had a soft spot for AMC and finally about four years ago I bought my first one, a ’61 Rambler American Custom 400, so I guess I actually own an early Rambler, at least under the skin.
Outstanding research, analysis, and writing, Paul! As a 10 year old, I latched onto Ramblers in 1967, when my Dad brought home two different used ’62 Classic’s (one wagon, one 4-door) as he was shopping for a second car for the family. Dad didn’t buy either of those, but I read every Popular Science and Popular Mechanics and other car magazine I could get my hands on, and just really rooted for this underdog company in competing with the Big 3! Dad bought our first AMC in ’69, only to trade it on the last day of the year for a brand new Javelin! I bought my first AMC (’62 American convertible) in my junior year of high school, and still own it. It has the underpinnings, of course, of the small Ramblers featured in this article. And those who were alive in 1958, how could you not love the “Beep Beep” song by the Playmates about the “little Nash Rambler” vs. the Big Black Cadillac??
Quite the book, this, and a good read. I can safely say I knew maybe 10% of it. Your thesis on the connections from the survival of a minnow to the endless rise of the compact (and import) is very clever. Bravo, Prof. Dr Dr and now again, Dr, N.
I must admit to curiosity as to why these things ever sold at all: to my eyes, some of the worst-looking US cars ever made, most especially the ’56-58 ones with that horrid pinched face. Literally not a coherent line on them. The earlier ones are better-ish, though they ultimately look like powered sofas, and no wonder Farina thought the mafia spats all round were not an aesthetic triumph (though I don’t mind the original big bathtub models, whose size gives them some aero glam).
I speculate that no-one remembers seeing these things because they know that some things cannot be unseen, and sensibly do not want to remember.
That ’58 Rambler sure seems to have influenced or at least come along before the 1959 Ford-Merc.
By the time the front of the Ford cars had been designed, was likely prior to the release of the ’58 Ramblers. Further, Ford would have been very unlikely to copycat a Rambler in its styling. However with ’58 Ramblers on the street before the ’59 Fords, I would have thought they might have tweaked their design a wee bit more to not look like cousins to the Rambler.
The resemblance is nonetheless quite strong.
Both shots copied from CC – the Merc from Longrooffan.
I cannot honestly say I recall seeing any of these Ramblers aroud in the sixties, except on TV.