Mid-1930s-to-70s design evolution shown at LeMay event

1971 Ford Mustang Mach 1

As usual, this year’s LeMay annual car show offered an eclectic mix of cars and trucks. In addition to the nonprofit organization’s private collection, owners displayed their own vehicles. And if you timed it right, you could check out the cars up for auction that day.

The range of vehicles shown is too broad to survey in one photo essay, so this story about LeMay’s 42nd-annual show focuses on American cars from the roughly the mid-30s through the mid-70s.

The collection is remarkable — more than 1,500 vehicles are housed in their sprawling campus outside of Tacoma, Washington (go here for details). The only downside is that many of their cars are packed into warehouses on the former grounds of the Marymount Military Academy. These vehicles are not prime candidates for high-quality photographs. For example, below is a 1941 Nash sandwiched between a handful of other older cars.

Fortunately, a number of buildings have better conditions for photography. For example, a 1937 Packard Twelve is typically kept in a warehouse with a roof material that lets in an unusual amount of light.

1937 Packard Twelve: Behold, the donut pusher

I’ve posted shots of this car before, but this time I wanted to focus more on the peeked hood line and “Goddess of Speed” ornament. Also referred to as the “doughnut pusher,” this is “the longest lived mascot in the history of an American automobile,”according to W. C. Williams (2002; p. 757).

By the same token, the hood line was used for so long that “even five-year old kids could identify the Packard,” according to retired designer Bill Robinson (Clasiq, 2019). Unfortunately, this level of styling continuity seems to have become unfashionable in most contemporary automobiles.

As discussed here, the iconic nature of the Packard grille would lead the automaker to an identity crisis in the 1950s.

1937 Packard hood ornament

1941 Studebaker: Loewy does art deco

Within only a few years the classic radiator-style grille would evolve into shapes more akin to a ship’s prow. A particularly elegant example is the 1941 Studebaker Commander, which was among the cars displayed on the Marymount grounds by their owners.

The senior Studebaker was newly redesigned for 1941 by Raymond Loewy’s team, with Virgil Exner the lead designer (Cavanaugh, 2019). Note the lovely art deco detailing, such as a subtle, two-tone sweepsphere and the multi-level front bumper with red stripes. Go here for more photos.

1950 Oldsmobile 98: No wide track here

General Motors repeatedly asserted its styling leadership in the late-40s and early-50s. An example is the 1950 Oldsmobile 98, which offered a one-piece windshield and sculpted side styling. The fastback four-door body style sold so poorly compared to a notchback version that it was discontinued at the end of that model year. For 1950 only the top-of-line 98 series had round taillights (Flammang and the auto editors of Consumer Guide (1995).

Note how the front wheels are well inboard of the sheetmetal. The 98’s width increased by almost three inches between 1947 and 1950 but the rear tread stayed 61.5 inches and the front tread grew only an inch to 59 inches. This was fairly typical of early post-war American automobile design.

1953 Hudson Hornet: Lower, wider and faster

One exception was the Hudson, whose front tread almost matched the 1950 Oldsmobile 98 even though the car was roughly three inches narrower. The Hudson was also two inches lower because of its then-exotic “step-down” chassis. This contributed to the Hudson’s superior handling. Tom McCahill said of a 1952 Hornet:

“They are America’s finest cars from the very important standpoint of roadability, cornering and steering. On a half-mile, or a mile-and-a-quarter track, the ability to corner, plus top balance and steering control, plus excellent brakes, are all Hudson needs to smother the rest of the country’s output. The Chryslers are faster, and several cars such as the 88 Olds and Cadillac can out-accelerate them. But to stay with the Hudsons on a race course, these other cars must literally pull themselves apart in the corners while the Hudsons sail around with effortless ease. This same factor that makes them tops in stock car racing is also the reason why I rate the Hudson America’s safest big automobile.” (Howley, 2001; p. 77-78)

As the early-50s wore on, the Hudson’s advanced engineering became increasingly overshadowed by dated styling. For example, the automaker didn’t offer a one-piece windshield on its full-sized cars until 1954, which was later than any of its competitors.

Once a moribund Hudson was absorbed into American Motors, its performance heritage was discarded. That’s too bad, because AMC could have broadened the appeal of its compact Ramblers by making them as roadworthy as they were space efficient. Instead of gaining a reputation for being a “grandma’s car,” the top-end Ramblers might has become known as the closest you could get to an American Mercedes-Benz.

Go here for grand tour of a 1948 Hudson’s enormous interior and here for more photos of the 1953 Hornet shown below.

1953 Hudson front quarter

1953 Chrysler wagon: Frumpy but ahead of its time

During the early-50s, Chrysler Corporation cars weren’t restyled as frequently — and flamboyantly — as their competition from General Motors and Ford. A particularly extreme example is a 1953 Town & Country wagon, which was about to go up for auction. Although the front of the car received a reskinning that included a curved windshield, the outboard fenders dated back to 1950.

Despite the unusually old sheetmetal, the Chrysler was ahead of the curve when it came to offering a roll-down rear window. The rest of the industry typically used an upper liftgate (Langworth, 1993).

Perhaps to make up for the old-hat styling, the wagon received an extra helping of chrome doodads, such as massive tailgate hinges (go here for more photos).

1953 Chrysler Town & Country rear quarter

1954 Kaiser Darrin: Even anteaters deserve respect

The early-50s saw a wave of two-seaters from independent American automakers. The Nash-Healey, Hudson Italia and Kaiser-Darrin all had eccentric styling, but the Darrin arguably wins the grand prize for sheer weirdness.

The Darrin almost didn’t make it past the concept-car stage, but Henry J. Kaiser’s wife insisted that it was “the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” The car’s designer, Dutch Darrin, told Richard Langworth that he wished he had built the car himself because Kaiser subsequently increased the height of the front fenders to conform with state lighting standards (Langworth, 1975; p. 192). Truth be told, the car looked too half-baked even in its original form to have reached production.

This 1954 model from LeMay’s collection was tucked away in a corner, but I got a photograph of the most memorable part of the car — the anteater grille. It almost looks beautiful when viewed in isolation from the rest of the oddly-shaped front end.

1954 Kaiser Darrin

1956 Studebaker Hawk: Don’t blame it on Loewy

None of the American automakers were immune from stylistic overkill in the mid-50s. A particularly egregious example is the 1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk. The once clean, almost European design by Raymond Loewy’s consulting firm was slathered in chrome — with decidedly awkward results. Most notably, the tacked-on fiberglass tail fins end in a jarring zig-zag below the C-pillar.

Glenn Adamson (2003) has unfairly described the 1956 Hawk as emblematic of Loewy’s design philosophy. To the contrary, Studebaker management pressed him to make the low-slung coupe and hardtop more conventional looking. Richard M. Langworth noted that high-level executives favored “a bold, blunt front end — the nearest they’d have to Europe was a Mercedes-like grille” (1979, 1993, p. 81). Go here for more photos.

1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk rear quarter

1958 DeSoto: Bigger didn’t prove to sell better

Late-50s American auto design moved in a number of directions. The most prominent was a fixation with tail fins — the taller, the better. Perhaps the best looking of that genre were the 1957-58 Chryslers and DeSotos. Below is a 1958 DeSoto Firesweep from the LeMay collection.

“Father really loved those fins,” Virgil Exner Jr. told biographer Peter Grist. “The idea was to get off of soft, rounded back ends, to get some lightness to the car and draw the observer’s eyes upward. The fins were aesthetic but he did believe that they had a a functional role to play. He ran tests in wind tunnels and they did work. They moved the center of air pressure back, a little closer to the center of gravity, providing more inherent directional stability.” (2007, p. 94).

Another practical aspect of fins was that they helped the driver see the rear corners of the car better. That became particularly important once Detroit automakers started to race each other to make their cars lower, longer and wider.

As a case in point, an entry-level Buick grew almost a foot in length between 1951 and 1959. Imagine the surprise of American automotive executives when they saw how the sales of their premium-priced brands went down as the size of their cars went up (go here for further discussion).

1958 DeSoto tailfins

1959 Ford Galaxie: Sci-fi mixed with early brougham

During the late-50s Ford tended to be the leader in another styling direction, which was a more horizontal and squared-off look. A case in point was the 1959 Ford Galaxie, which was a mid-year addition to the previously top-of-line Fairlane 500. The squared-off roofline mimicked the hot-selling Thunderbird — with even more impressive results. Despite its late entry, the Galaxie accounted for a third of the big Ford’s overall production.

The roofline anticipated the brougham look of the late-60s, but Ford still trafficked in sci-fi weirdness, such as with back-up lights that floated atop the rear fenders like satellites in orbit around the large dog-dish taillights. The basic look, which included a fender upkick near the base of the C-pillar, may have been dictated by using the 1957-58 Mercury’s body (go here for additional photos).

Ford came within 12,000 units of matching Chevrolet’s production during the 1959 model year. That was despite its rival’s dramatic new styling. Even GM’s new head stylist Wiliam Mitchell later acknowledged that the automaker went too far in trying to top the 1957 Chryslers (Crippen, 1987).

1963 Cadillac: Coopting the Lincoln Continental

The 1963 Cadillac has not generated a huge amount of attention by automotive historians, but it arguably represented the American car that first popularized the brougham look in the 1960s. As discussed further here, styling that evoked the luxury cars of the 1920s and ’30s never disappeared entirely from American car design. However, it was relatively rare in the 1950s as the sci-fi look took the industry by storm.

Of course, Cadillac was a leader in the sci-fi look, which was epitomized by rocketship-shaped forms such as soaring fins and afterburner-shaped rear bumper housings. In 1963 the Cadillac took a meaningful step away from that look in favor of a more understated and boxier shape.

Were Cadillac designers influenced by the 1961 Continental, which represented a radical break with the Lincoln’s fairly sci-fi 1958-60 models? If so, Cadillac was successful in adopting key elements of the brougham look while maintaining an unmistakable lineage with its predecessors. That’s the mark of good design.

1963 Cadillac

1964 Ford compacts: Maximizing economies of scale

The 1960s saw a proliferation in the number of different designs spun off the same body. A case in point is the 1964 Ford Falcon, which was the basis for the Mercury Comet. The Comet had 5.5 inches added to the wheelbase and 14.5 inches to the length. However, they both shared the same outer sheetmetal on the doors.

This approach significantly increased the economies of scale for the automaker’s compact platform. In 1964, combined production of the Falcon and Comet totaled roughly 491,000 units.

Of course, the Mustang was loosely based on the Falcon, but its body was given significant changes such as curved side glass and a more pronounced turn under.

Ford’s fealty to the holy trinity of bigger, glitzier and more powerful resulted in moving the Comet and the Falcon onto the automaker’s mid-sized platform in 1966. The Comet was repositioned as a fancier Fairlane while the Falcon remained Ford’s entry-level nameplate. This increased Ford’s economies of scale, but Falcon output quickly faded even while the sales of imported economy cars once again soared.

Might Falcon have held up better in the late-60s if it had instead been given a sedate version of the Mustang body? That’s what Ford ended up doing with the 1970 Maverick.

Mid-60s sporty coupes: You look familiar

As the American auto industry consolidated, cars became increasingly similar. For example, the wildly popular Pontiac GTO was imitated by pretty much all popularly priced American brands.

That could be most obviously seen in the proliferation of “muscle cars” with big-block V8s. However, the Pontiac’s styling was also emulated. The 1964 GTO’s simulated full-width taillights were given only a modest reinterpretation in the 1967 Dodge Coronet 500. Horizontal ribbing was turned vertical and rear fascia indentations were flattened.

The next-generation GTO would be even more heavily copied by Dodge when it restyled its Charger in 1968 (go here for further discussion).

1967 Dodge Coronet 500

1967 Mercury Cougar: A ‘nightmare’ to design

The 1967 Cougar may be considered one of the most iconic Mercurys of all time, but it was also a pretty generic design.

Like all other personal luxury coupes of 1967, it had hidden headlights and full-width taillights. Meanwhile, its side styling was strikingly similar to the AMX and AMX II show cars, with their chunky wheel cutouts and unusually rounded side sheetmetal (auto editors of Consumer Guide, 2019).

The main design feature that made the Cougar distinctive was the front end, where the pointed fender edges contrasted with an upright grille. Retired Ford designer Richard Schierloh told Collectible Automobile that this was the result of Ford management deciding to mash together two different design proposals. Schierloh was given the task of integrating them:

“It was a nightmare for me trying to put that squared architectural over-and-under design together with the pointy nose of the ’67 Cougar. I always thought it was terrible. There was a big hole in the corner and I didn’t know what to stuff in it.” (Farrell, 2019, p. 82)

At the risk of disagreeing with a terrific designer, I would beg to differ — the tension between the two elements is what gives the Cougar added visual interest. Schierloh did a nice job.

1967 Mercury Cougar front quarter

1969 AMC Javelin: Clean styling, we hardly knew ye

Of course, one could point to some differences in stylistic approaches by American automakers. The 1967-68 Mustang had a much busier look than the 1968-70 AMC Javelin. (Go here for more photos of the 1969 Javelin pictured below.)

The Javelin’s unusually clean and understated styling lasted only three years, when it was given outsized fender bulges reminiscent of the C3 Chevrolet Corvette. AMC advertising announced that the goal was to make the Javelin the “hairiest” pony car “even at the risk of scaring some people off.” That’s apparently what happened — sales never returned to level of the car’s first two years. That likely resulted in the Javelin failing to turn a profit.

1971 Buick Riviera vs. VW bus: Oil and water

The 1971 model year was similar to that of 1960 because Detroit once again did a two-step dance. At the same time that the Big Four introduced new small cars intended to drive the imports back into the sea once and for all, they also unveiled bigger, glitzier and more powerful “standard-sized” cars.

The photo below juxtaposes two automotive extremes of that era — a 1971 Buick Riviera and a Volkswagen microbus. Whereas the VW was a remarkably practical and space-efficient vehicle, the Riviera was purely for show. And it was an expensive showboat, both in terms of purchase price and gas consumption.

The car certainly stood out in a crowd (go here for additional photos) but sales were weak during a period when the market for personal luxury coupes was taking off (go here for further discussion). The basic shape might have worked a lot better if it had be used on GM’s pony car platform.

1971 Buick Riviera and VW bus

1976 Pontiac Firebird: Hood graphic initially rejected

A major trend in the 1970s was the use of stripes and graphics on sporty coupes. Perhaps the most iconic was the Pontiac Firebird Trans Am’s hood graphic. Although it was often referred to as a “screaming chicken,” the image was actually a phoenix.

Daniel Strohl (2008) notes that GM head designer William Mitchell initially rejected the graphic treatment, calling it an “Indian blanket on the hood.” However, once he agreed to its production, the design proved popular.

The phoenix symbolized the revival of the Trans Am, whose production soared from under 1,300 units in 1972 to more than 117,000 in 1979. In 1976 the top-of-line performance model became the top-selling Firebird, comprising 42 percent of total output. The photo below is of a 1976 model (go here for additional photos).

1975 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am hood decal

1970-76 Chevrolet Malibu: Putting on the pounds

Changes in U.S. car design during the 1970s were particularly apparent with mid-sized cars. As the decade began, American automakers still focused heavily on sporty coupes, but within a few years the emphasis shifted to broughamtastic luxury coupes.

This can be seen by comparing the 1970 and 1976 Chevrolet Malibu pictured below. The earlier model displayed a trim, muscular look, which was highlighted by large racing stripes. In contrast, the 1976 model was bestowed with opera windows and pin stripes.

Along the way, mid-sized cars got meaningfully larger and heavier. The 1976 Malibu was eight inches longer and more than 500 pounds heavier than its equivalent 1970 model.

The comparison is even more stark between the original Chevelle, which was introduced in 1964, and a 1976 Malibu. The latter was 11 inches longer and more than 800 pounds heavier. Meanwhile, Chevrolet’s top-end mid-sized car, the Monte Carlo, stretched 213 inches in 1976. That was as long as a full-sized 1965 Chevrolet (go here for further discussion).

The advent of 5-mph bumpers weren’t the primary cause of American cars getting longer and heavier, but they did make a contribution. They also put an end to high-mounted bumpers, which were designed more for looks than to protect the car.

These two Malibu’s also illustrate how the styling of American cars’ sides evolved. The 1970 model had complex fender sculpting whereas the 1976 version had plainer surfaces but a more pronounced tumble house and turn under. That reflected the fuselage look, which typically didn’t do much for space efficiency but presented a lower and wider appearance.

One can occasionally find newer vehicles at the LeMay car show, but they are relatively rare. That’s just as well. If we are interested in better understanding why the American auto industry experienced one of the most spectacular collapses of the last century, its seeds were arguably sown from the mid-30s through mid-70s.

NOTES:

Production data and specifications are from the Standard Catalog of American Cars, 1946-1975 (Gunnell, 2002) and the Classic Car Database (2019). 

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