I hold a special affection for cars that were built for so long, they eventually wound up being sold alongside their successors. By virtue of their long life spans, these cars looked like they belonged to an earlier decade, but loyal customers didn’t care. And that outworn styling was often part of the appeal. Volvo’s 122 was just such a car, with the added bonus of being the model that propelled Volvo to success in North America. So when I came across this 1968 wagon at a car show, I just had to stop for pictures. No one else seemed to be giving this Volvo much attention… fitting for a car that found success by eschewing mass market flash for a stodgy practicality.
Volvo began selling cars in the United States in 1955, with its PV444 – a car that had been offered in Europe since 1947, and which visually resembled a shrunken late-1940s Ford. Aiming at buyers looking for durability and efficiency, Volvo found a niche among those who sought those virtues over the latest styling trends. Starting with a modest 297 US sales in 1955, just two years later, the firm sold 12,000 cars.

While some American consumers may have considered Volvo a European upstart, the firm was somewhat of a transportation conglomerate, with roots stretching to the early 20th century. In addition to cars, Aktiebolaget Volvo produced heavy trucks, industrial machinery, tractors, and even marine engines. But it was Volvo’s Automotive Products Division that accounted for most North American exports. Volvo’s hierarchy was keenly aware of the New World’s sales potential. The company’s president, Gunnar Engellau, toured the US in the late 1950s, talking with Volvo dealers and assessing consumers’ preferences. Engellau likely knew that Americans would appreciate Volvo’s upcoming model – and he was right. By 1961, Volvo was the third most popular imported car brand in the United States.
That new model initially debuted in Europe, in 1956, as the Volvo Amazon. Due to a trademark dispute with the German company Kriedler, which sold mopeds called “Amazone,” Volvo dropped that name from all but its home market. In other countries, this model became known as the 120 series, but since names are more memorable than numbers, the model series is often affectionately known as the Amazon, regardless of its official name.
Whatever it was named, Volvo’s first completely new car in a decade didn’t replace the venerable PV – instead, the two were sold alongside each other for several years, with the 120 cars carrying a price premium.
With a high hood, tall greenhouse and thick windshield pillars, this was definitely a mid-1950s design, on the cusp of becoming outdated. But Volvo wasn’t worried about that. Company president Engellau remarked at that time that his firm strove to deliver cars competing on quality, rather than on production output or styling. Said Engellau: “We are not engaged in any race to produce cars by the numbers. We are more concerned that a Volvo built today will still be on the road 10 to 15 years from now.”
The car’s overall appearance presented a conventional image, drawing on both American and European design themes. Car and Driver called the new Volvo “conservatively modern in the Daimler-Benz school,” which sums up the car’s aura rather well.
US sales began in 1959, after being introduced at New York’s International Auto Show. With a base price of around $2,500, the new model (called the 122 S) wasn’t cheap; Volvo aimed to compete not on price, but on a “total cost of ownership” approach. Highlighting durability and high levels of standard equipment, Volvo built the case that its products represented an investment that should be looked at differently than other cars.
With a recession driving consumers to compact cars, 1959 was a propitious year for imports. Volvo sales surged to about 18,000 – and most of that was before the new 122 even hit showrooms. But however favorable 1959 was for imports, 1960 proved to be the opposite. The Big Three introduced their own compacts, the economy improved, and customers lost a good bit of interest in imported cars. Not a good time to debut a new compact import, however that’s exactly where Volvo found itself.
US Volvo sales plummeted by about a quarter for 1960, and fell further for ’61. The good news was that 122 S sales accounted for a big slice of the pie, comprising 40% Volvo’s US sales in 1961. That indicated Volvo products were moving in the right direction, a sentiment that became clearer when Volvo added additional body styles (a 2-door and a wagon) to the 122 range.
Volvo launched its Amazon wagon at the 1962 Stockholm Motor Show, half a decade after its sedan equivalent. The wagon went on sale in the US in late 1962 as a ’63 model, with a price of about $2,875.
The 122 S wasn’t Volvo’s first wagon – coincidentally, a 1957 PV “Duett” wagon was at the same car show. But while the Duett was sold also as a commercial van – and looked and drove the part – Volvo designed its new wagon to be a family hauler.

In fact, this Swedish import was very American in execution. That wasn’t a coincidence. Sweden was Europe’s most car-intensive country, containing one car per five residents in the early 1960s. With its vast spaces and plentiful unpaved roads, Sweden’s driving culture was closer to North America’s than any other auto-producing nation at the time. As Road & Track noted about Swedes, “they expect much the same sort of service from their cars as we want from ours, and the Volvo is built with that in mind.”
Just like the sedan, the wagon’s front end looks like a ¾-scale mid-1950s American car. – there’s quite a bit of Chrysler 300 influence. By 1962, Chrysler’s original 300 would have been considered nearly geriatric, however, a retrograde look became part of Volvo’s charm.
Styling-wise, there’s no distinction between the sedan and wagon from the front doors forward. Beyond the car’s halfway point, Volvo designed new rear doors, and of course an integrated cargo area. Despite being a wagon created out of an existing sedan, this ended up being a well-unified design. There’s a surprising amount of complexity in what, on the surface, looks like a utilitarian concept. This angle looks more European than the front, and the overall design doesn’t come across as being overly boxy.
Although Volvo eventually earned a reputation for boxiness, these Amazon wagons were rather voluptuous. One can see that a lot of effort was put into making this rear view look interesting, like how the horizontal side curvature is carried back to the cargo box area, terminating in vestigial fins. Quite a difference from the overly-functional Duett.
Interesting design features, though, didn’t interfere with practicality. The wagon’s business end featured a split tailgate, with the lower portion swinging down and the glass raising up. Looking closely, one can see a bulky hinge atop the license plate. That’s not just sturdy over-engineering. If someone were to drive with the lower tailgate down (to accommodate a long load) the license plate could swing down on that hinge so it would still be visible. Clever touches like that abounded – as another example, those rubber pads on the bumper overriders weren’t just decorative. They functioned as both supports for the lower tailgate and steps to access the roof rack.
While not standard equipment, Volvo offered several roof racks as accessories. This car’s unit is likely a reproduction, but is very well done, replete with wooden slats.
Many people assume that these Volvos were unchanged throughout their long production life, however several details distinguish the 1968 cars. Federal safety changes accounted for the most noticeable changes, including fender-mounted reflectors and several interior modifications. Under the skin, the main change for ’68 was more exciting. An extra 15 horsepower, bringing the 1.8-liter engine’s horse herd up to 115. With an ability to reach 100mph, and achieve 25-30mpg in normal driving, these wagons achieved very respectable figures for the day. Like most 122’s, our featured wagon has a fully-synchromeshed four-speed manual transmission, though an automatic was optional.
For the most part, 122 wagons were mechanically similar to sedans, though the wagon’s suspension was strengthened, and featured stiffer rear springs to allow for a better ride with a full load of passengers and cargo. Sedan or wagon, when underway, the 122 was known for its quick steering and agile handling. Its firm ride, in the manner of most European cars of its time, produced a solid feel that added to its rugged and durable reputation.
Inside, these buckets could win an award for the 1960s most comfortable car seats. Between the soothing honey-brown color, ergonomically curved backrests, useful (new for ’68) headrests, and perforated upholstery, these look like time travelers from 20 years in the future. Compared to the spartan PV, this was downright luxurious.
Volvo was a safety leader in the 1960s, evidenced by several details of this car’s interior. While all Amazons bore both three-pointed seatbelts and padding on the top portion of their dashboards, these 1968 cars received padding on the dash’s lower edge as well. Other new-for-’68 safety enhancements included a redesigned steering wheel featuring a padded center section and new, softer dashboard knobs. Expanses of bare painted metal, though, seemingly contradict with Volvo’s focus on safety features as small as knobs.
Aside from all the padding, Amazon dashboards are unique, with a strip-style speedometer dominating the driver’s view, and few other instruments. Most controls are activated via knobs, with the exception of three heating and ventilation levers. The radio here is a newer unit, but is in the original position, which is convenient only for the passenger.
The rear seat has good headroom and legroom for a car of its size, able to carry two adults comfortably, and three in a pinch. Rear three-point belts were added to this car at some point, though with Volvo’s safety focus, they look like they belong back there. For both front and rear passengers, the car’s tall design helped ingress and egress, making the Volvo almost like a mini-Checker.

The seatback could fold forward and create a six-foot long cargo bed, accentuating the car’s already substantial utility. This was an innovative setup for the time, and remarkably efficient packaging for a compact car.
The spare tire is stored under the floor. However, Volvo’s brochure states that owners could instead choose to mount the tire on the left side of the cargo area, therefore creating a “beautiful hole in the floor that you can fill with all the junk that you usually carry in the trunk of a car.”
Between 1962 and ’69, Volvo built 73,000 120 series wagons worldwide. In North America, these wagons served as a bridge between the old-timey Duett and the wildly successful 145. Prior to the 120 series, North Americans regarded Volvo as a somewhat eccentric import brand – however, this car provided the Swedish firm a toehold in a more mainstream portion of the market. In later decades, Volvo became synonymous with family station wagons; it was this car that blazed the trail.
Even in Volvoland, nothing lasts forever, and the Amazon’s replacement, the 140 series, came along in 1967. Longer, wider and plusher than its predecessor, these cars cemented Volvo’s reputation as a safety and reliability leader. Echoing how the PV remained in production after its successor was launched, the 120 remained in production for a while alongside the 140 series.
US imports of the 122 S ceased after the 1968 model year, though Amazon sales continued in other markets through 1970. Customers who bought these in 1968 considered this car alluring enough to overlook that it was an aged design nearing the end of its life, and that its replacement had already been introduced.
Late 1960s ads illustrated the 122’s appeal towards the end of its production run. As a frugal person myself, I admit these ads strike a nerve with me. If I’d have been looking for a new car in 1968, I’d be tempted to get one of these last 122’s while I still could. Perhaps that’s what our featured car’s original owner thought as well.
For a car that launched its manufacturer’s US fortunes and paved the way for generations of station wagons, this Volvo should have received more attention from car show visitors. But something tells me that this trailblazing wagon enjoyed its low-key profile.
Photographed at the Old Town Car Show in Fairfax, Virginia in May, 2026.
Related CC Reading:
Volvo 122 S: The Cult Of The Amazon Paul Niedermeyer












































The styling is very ’55 Chrysler, very Rover P5, and for that means very desirable.
I agree – to me it looks like a Chrysler from the front and a Rover from the rear. Somehow, it all works.
After this model, I feel like all Volvos should be wagons. This one, though, needs to be a 123GT coupe. (I think that was its name.) And yes it looks to me like a 55 Chrysler left in the dryer.
Being a pre-smog car for California, I simply could not leave it stock. Not sure what sort of motor I’d go with, but lean towards a bridgeported Mazda 13B.
The sedans were also assembled in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and sold as the ‘Canadian’ in those years. They performed well, and won several rallies, including the Shell 4000 held in Canada every year in the 1960’s. I believe the 122S couple was sold until 1969 in Canada.
I mean, instead of the complicated license plate hinge, they could have just mounted the plate to the rear bumper.
I can’t imagine a car looking more out of place than the Volvo in the midst of cowboys.
Lots of respect for these cars. Their owners knew what good cars they had.
I love that cowboy photo – that ranks as one my favorite PR shots. It’s so absurd that it’s funny. The people and the horse look European, so I presume that Volvo staged it in Sweden to give it a Cowboy theme.
As a kid having grown up in a family of VW owners with all their 55 hp (if that), I became the speed demon — as a two-time owner of a 122S, a sedan and a wagon — 100 hp and all. They fit perfectly with my self-styled collegiate persona: blue jeans and tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. I recall a fellow architecture student comparing his later 144 with my 122, finding the earlier car to be more robust in its construction. Either way the 122 wasn’t perfect: they came with windows that would slide down their tracks as they lost grip on their cables, a 3′ long temperature gauge assembly that was copper-tubed all the way from the dash to the engine sending unit (fun changing that), floorboards that would rust through, tender bakelite (the first synthetic plastic!) timing gears, brake master cylinders that would give up the ghost and fussy twin SU carbs. Still, I learned to work on them — and loved them all, especially for their upright seating position, massive visibility, and that glorious, long stick shift. Thanks Eric; well-researched and well-written article. Long live the 122S.
I drive a ’66 in the same color. It has been fitted with B20 pistons, F.I. head and P1800 transmission with overdrive. The windows are an easy fix. The temperature guage assembly is not quite so long as your discription and is really quite simple if you choose not to be daunted by it. Timing gears are relatively easy to replace – I did it in a snowy driveway in the Cascade mountains of Oregon one winter. Aluminum and steel gears are also available. Master cylinders are not exactly mystical and SU carbs can give surprisingly long service when you understand their needs and they are capable of 35mpg and excellent speed as Volvo intended. And yes my car did need a new passenger floor welded in but the smiles and waves it recieves is worth the effort.
I have history with these cars; my parents bought a new 1964 wagon on European delivery and we took it all over England and Northern Europe, as far south as Florence, including ferry rides to Sweden where we visited the factory, and then Finland. We sailed with the car on a Swedish cargo ship back to San Francisco. They kept it until 1986, so I learned to drive in it. And then bought a 2 door 1965 122S as my first car. I’ll be the contrarian here and say that based on my experience, the stylish new seats introduced in 1965, as seen in this 1968 wagon, aged poorly both cosmetically and comfort-wise, compared to the older seats.
Thanks for a great write-up and photos which really brought back some memories. Especially the carpeted “way back” where my sister and I spent many hours, and that heavy duty galvanized twist handle for lowering the back seat rest, which I banged by head against many times.
Wow, that’s an incredible trip!
I’m surprised about the seats – I have no experience with them, but they look like they’d be as durable as MB-Tex seats. They sure do look comfy, though.
Yeah, it’s weird. Maybe they improved over the years. But the plain-looking seats in my parents’ ‘64 looked almost like new, and the cushions held up fine, when they sold it in 1986 (for the same price as they bought it, $2600 per the European Delivery invoice which my Mom showed me). Whereas the stylish perforated seats in my ‘65 had blown out stitches, worn out vinyl, and a sagging seat cushion on the driver’s side when I bought it 1975. The seats in the Volvo’s replacement, a ‘73 Vega with the GT seats, were exceptionally comfortable though the vinyl also showed signs of wear by the time I moved on from it in 1980.
What a great experience!
The European delivery plans common at the time were a golden era for both car purchase and European travel for North Americans. This was perhaps the tail end of post-war ‘Europe on $5 a day’ possibilities, a different Europe from a decade later.
This car has had modern three-point seat/shoulder belts installed in the front too.
Volvos really appealed to engineers, who were in the best position to appreciate what Volvos were all about. My middle school friend’s dad was an engineer and they had a ’66 122 S wagon in the same color as this one. I rode in it a number of times.
Regarding engineers, I came across an ad from a Connecticut Volvo dealer that started out “Attention Engineers!” – I’ve never seen engineers targeted as a group before. But if there’s any car that could justify that, it’s this one.
I always considered the 120-series as having 58-60 Rambler American styling.
A fellow from my high school in the late 60’s managed to torture and ruin every automobile that he owned. A ’50 Olds, an Opel (can’t recall the model), and a ’56 Pontiac come to mind.
Then he got the oddball looking PV444, which looked funny at the time. Try as he might, the mighty “V” put up with everything he put it through.
After seeing that, I eventually bought a ’71 142 series, took care of it, and drove it for several years with excellent service. Great cars back then.
Here’s a TV commercial for the 122 dating back to 1962 or 63. Listen for the tagline at the end
Awesome find! There was a print ad version of this as well, and it also ended with “Cheaper than psychiatry.” I think they should have made that the title.
Remember the later ads that were always touting the strength, safety, longevity.
Recognized “Fairfax” right away. That “Pontiac”, next to the “Volvo” is same color, combo as my aunt, uncles “65, LeMans”, Loved that car.
The profile says SUV/CUV parked next to that Bonneville. It looks commodious for something called a “compact.” Very efficient, I can see the appeal.