SPRING IS IN THE AIR

SPRING IS IN THE AIR

In the blink of an eye, or so it seems, the first months of the new year have become fodder for historians. When coupled with the impending 50th birthday and what we experienced last year the general theme as of late seems to be change and how to cope.
Meditations such as these often lead into the deep shadows of despair. To avoid this pitfall I have found perspective is crucial and the best way to keep it in proper focus is to listen to those who have weathered a few more storms than me and have come through the other side with a smile.
It also helps with an occasional reminder about just how short life is and what is really important. A few weeks ago this point was hammered home when Bob “Boze” Bell, owner and editor of True West magazine collapsed from a heart attack.
In the early 1960s he was part of a high school band here that went so far as to play at the state fair. A farewell reunion of sorts was scheduled for a Saturday evening at the old Elks Lodge in the historic district of Kingman.
The band was short a key member as couple of years ago Wendel Havatone, a local legend of sorts, died in Alaska. In spite of this the event morphed into a reunion of sorts as former and long time residents planned for the evening.
Two weeks ago, as the band practiced Wipeout, Bell collapsed over his drums. The concert went on but with a subdued note. Bell is recovering.
On Saturday I invested $35 in my good mental health by buying a birthday lunch for Mr. Fleming who has just turned 89. To ensure the binoculars were properly focused on life and all the changes that accompany it my son, fast closing in on 20, was in attendance as was Bill, who is perched between my fifty and Mr. Fleming. It was a delightful and refreshing lunch gathering.
In spite of illness and a body that just isn’t willing to do what his mind says it can he smiles. This, he says, is the secret to a long life of happiness.
Stare them down when you have to, be prepared to back it up if the stare doesn’t work and then smile to turn an enemy into a friend. His second bit of advice was to see change as opportunity, as a beginning and not the end.
Building on that conversation I talked with HP, a truly amazing 93 year old, this morning. If HP can’t inspire you to face the future with excitement then I do not know who can.
After a lifetime spent working on vehicles and equipment he can recite specifications for vehicles produced by companies that are not even historical footnotes, is currently resurrecting a Model T Ford from absolute scrap and assorted pieces for a planned drive back to Tennessee, and is seldom home as his skills in breathing life into ancient engines makes him a hot commodity among local collectors.
Though he adores the Model T he is fascinated by all manner of vehicles, particularly those produced by Citroen. Other favorites include Auburn, he has a 1931 model he bought in 1938, Chrysler products of similar vintage, cars built by Saab, GM built cars of the 1970s, and Cadillacs built in the past few years.
As our conversation turned towards the changes swirling all about us his advice was simple and comforting. Don’t make mountains out of mole hills, don’t focus to long on what is wrong because it will distract you from what is good, and don’t spend to much time focusing on the past because you will miss the opportunity that is the future. Most importantly don’t look for reasons to be angry because you will find it.
Though this has often been my creed there is a tendency to drift into that world where the glass is perpetually half empty. So, with those thoughts in mind and my perspective restored I turn towards facing an uncertain future with a bit more certainty as well as the excitement of knowing it will be shared with my best friend, my wife.
We met 26 years ago on April Fools Day and married a year and a half later. I still had the bark on but it seems she saw something in that gnarled and twisted old wood. Every day I give thanks that she never gave up on me even when there was ample opportunity.
In closing I leave you with this. The United States is symbolized by the eagle. I choose the Edsel for my post fifty life.
It was introduced the year I was born. It was brought forth with great promise and fanfare. The world didn’t share the enthusiasm of its creators though it was a relatively solid and dependable vehicle. Now, it is considered a classic, an icon.

FLEXING THE MUSCLE

FLEXING THE MUSCLE

It was a beautiful spring afternoon in Kingman, Arizona. The temperature hovered at a pleasant seventy degrees and there was just the slightest breeze from the west.
First the new cars from KIA were swept from the lot. Next followed those that represented the new face of Chrysler. Then there was the sound of thunder was heard in the distance.
Soon a sea of bright flourescent colors swept down Route 66 and turned onto the Martin Swanty Chrysler lot in a parade of defiance to the high price of fuel.
When new they were low end models with muscular monikers and rumblings of power that quickened the spirit. As used cars they were battered, well worn, gas guzzling beasts with no future. Today, they are the crown jewels of the collector car auction circuits, monuments to America’s love of power, speed and size in their automobiles.
The drivers that stopped by Martin Swanty Chrysler on their way to the Mopar on the Strip event brought with them the cream of the Chrysler muscle car crop. Hemi powered ‘Cuda convertibles and 440 Coronets, Superbirds and Dart GTs.

A few had been painstakingly restored from cars that were to rough to be considered a basket case. Others were pristine time capsules. A few were nothing more than pure drag cars and others represented the ultimate in mechanical genius coupled to a bottomless well of finances such as a 1970 Challenger with a Viper V10 engine shoe horned into place so professionally it appeared stock.

For those under fifty this represented a once in a lifetime opportunity to experience the excitement that comes from a hemi V8 picking up speed as the driver clips through the gears. For us old farts it is a chance to reflect on a time used Supeerbirds were backlot fillers and a Dodge Charger was a $200 driver for those who could afford the .49 a gallon premium it gulped.

MEDITATIONS FROM THE EDGE OF THE WORLD

MEDITATIONS FROM THE EDGE OF THE WORLD


The idea was a simple one. Unfortunately simple ideas in my world have a tendency to become complicated things.

My son moved out a couple of months ago, I had just finished the editing of my new book, and it was my wifes birthday. I wanted to do something different for her and for us, make some new memories for the new chapter in life we are starting.
When my thoughts turn towards doing something different or special they often turn towards to road trip. So, with that at the forefront of my thoughts the next challenge was in finding someplace different that was not more than 200 miles from home as we had but one day for our adventure.

The long and short of the story is that Death Valley seemed the ideal location. It is 220 miles from home, we both love the desert, I found out it was a record wildflower season there and it was early enough in the season that the temperatures would be relatively comfortable, somewhere between 85 and 100 degrees.
As I manage a Penske Truck leasing office and Chrysler rental agency discounted rental cars are a perk. So I selected one of the new KIA Optima sedans we are putting into service for fuel efficiency as well as out of curiosity about the cars.
My impression was that these are good cars for those on a budget. The warranty is excellent, the mileage is better than average and there is adequate power. They are, however, not a car I expect to see on the road in ten or twenty years.
They reminded me alot of the cars built by AMC in the 1970s. Decent mechanical attributes but interior appointments that are one step away from being for novelty use only.
The trip was scheduled for the Sunday before Easter. Imagine my surprise to find, after several days of delightful seventy degree weather, blowing snow on Sunday morning! So much for the well laid plans of mice and men. So the trip was postponed for a week.
After a wonderful Easter with my son and his family, communion with my wife, and a very moving service that focused on the meaning of Christ’s sacrifice we set out before sunrise on Monday morning.
The first leg of the trip to Las Vegas went well. Lots of open road, and Don Williams crooning our courtin’ music made the trip a pleasant one.
My association with this stretch of highway and the surrounding country is a lengthy one. For my wife it is multigenerational.
Her grandfather went to work in the mines at Chloride at the age of fourteen to help support the family. Her grandmother with the traveling piano played for dances in Chloride, and other mining camps and ranches in the area.
The fond memories her uncle had of Chloride prompted him to retire there though the old town was but a shadow of what it once was. The cemetery there is the final resting place for lots of her family.
Sprawling development is changing the landscape and the society in our part of the country at a rapid pace. We have decided we can’t do much about this but we can do something about how we react to it. After all change has been as much a part of the southwest as sand and sun for more years than I can count and most folks can remember. Moreover change, good and bad, is just one of the many ingredients that adds flavor to life.
One of our stops on this trip drove this point home. It also strengthened our resolve to accept change as a way of life, a wave we could ride or one that would drown us in despair. The choice was ours.
As we meditated on those thoughts we came to Hoover Dam and reflected on the towering bridge, an engineering marvel, being built over the canyon to bypass the dam, how it would change a drive we have made all of our lives, how we would miss that drive, and how upon completion of the bypass we would rejoice when we wouldn’t have to make it any more.
Las Vegas and the urban sprawl that has become an integral part of our society in the past half century presented the first obstacle. What a mess.
Traffic fast and furious, an oasis in the desert built on the availability of air conditioning, and brown haze that obsured the beauty of the mountain escarpments that surround the valley. Los Angeles or Phoenix, Las Vegas or Albuquerque, who can tell which is which as you race through on the four lane, clinching the wheel, and rediscovering the importance of prayer.
Compounding the problem was another bane of the modern era, urban traffic and road construction. After an hour of detours and creeping through construction zones where flagman exert their control we let out a collective sigh of relief.
As it turned out we were premature in our relaxation. After a brief respite from the urban jungle we came to Pahrump, a once quiet, dusty desert outpost now transformed into another faceless suburb.
Scattered here and there, however, are vesitges of the Las Vegas and Nevada of old. One of these, a casino as they were before the age of the mega resort, lured us in with the promise of a $1.50 breakfast.
In spite of the traffic, the sprawl, the smog, and being stuck in traffic forced to listen to booming stereos our love for the desert that inspired this adventure and the fact that we had a whole day to ourselves kept the shadows of despair at bay.
As Pahrump faded from view in the rear view mirror and the serenity of the stark desert plains engulfed us we felt a delightful peace and excitement about our grand adventure.
Death Valley was a real treat. Though our trip was a quick one that allowed little time for exploration we found more than enough to encourage additional visits.
One of these was the stunning Dante’s View. From this rocky knoll you can see snow covered Mt. Whitney on the far side of the salt encrusted valley that is below sea level. What a view!
I had missed this and most of the wonders of Death Valley on my previous visit. That trip in the late 1960s was one of our epic family adventures.
It was mid summer and for reasons never understood my dad had decided we needed to see San Francisco via Death Valley. My memories of that trip in his 1964 Ford with no air conditioning are of nausea, complaints of $1.00 sodas at Stove Pipe Wells, frozen bread that we defrosted on the hood as we drove, sun burn, and misery. Somewhow in spite of this and other adventures I fell in love with the desert.
A few of the popular view points were, as expected, crowded as spring is prime season in Death Vally. But in places such as Dantes View crowds can enhance rather than distract. Savoring the views and listening to inspired words of amazment in a dozen or more languages made us realize how blessed we are to live so close to such majesty. It also helped us to realize God’s creation is universal in its ability to humble and leave one in awe.
As our time was limited the hikes were short ones. So, we settled for savoring the wonders of the stark desert beauty as it rolled past the windows in an endless panorama of wonderous views and vistas.
Climbing from the desert floor towards Beatty, Nevada a sign that pointed to Ryholite encouraged a bit of a detour. In research for my forthcoming book on ghost towns of the southwest I had heard of this lost city in the desert.
This amazing place sprang from the empty desert, became a community of almost 10,000 residents, and began its slow return to empty desert in a span of less than ten years. As the rapid changes in our hometown have prompted a great deal of reflection on adaptation, flight, and how quickly the world around us can change this stop in Rhyolite provided some real food for thought.
Gold was discovered here in 1904. The next year a townsite was platted. By 1908 the population was estimated at 10,000 and a mere two years later it was 65.
Unlike many mining camps that were little more than tent cities this was a community. The Cook Bank Building was built in 1907 at a cost of $90,000 and featured electric lights, steam heating and phone service. There was an automobile dealership and garage, churches, and saloons.
In its short life this town boasted a public pool, schools, train depot, stately homes, and stores. Masonry construction gave the impression this was a town with a future.
Think of the dreams, the hopes, and plans of the folks who once lived here. Where did they go from here? How did they make the transition to their new lives?
After our stop at Rhyolite we rolled into Beatty for food and fuel as this would be our last stop before battling the traffic in Las Vegas and heading home.
Beatty, in spite of its remote location, has not been immune to the changes sweeping the southwest in recent years.
Its proximity to Death Valley has prompted the construction of a large casino/motel complex on one end of town and a major chain motel on the other. In between is old, dusty Beatty, a desert crossroads little changed from the 1950s.
Here again we found a touch of the old Nevada in the form of a small local casino where leather faced cowboys lazed away an afternoon in the cool shadows playing cards and the tourists were easily identified as they were the only ones gawking at the cowboys with the sweat stained hats and dusty trucks. They were also the only ones wearing shorts and sandals, buying sunscreen, and gathering around a glass case to see a rattlesnake.
Our waitress was a friendly, middle age gal who had lived in Beatty most of her life with the exception of a brief attempt at making it big in Las Vegas years ago. As she chatted with a friend in Spanish I was amused to pick up snippets of the conversation about how they bemoaned the changes coming to Beatty. It seems to be a theme with folks in the southwest lately.
In retrospect this was a perfect road trip. The weather was wonderful. The sites seen were unforgetable. The trip was made with a dear friend. It provided us with the time to focus more clearly, to move away from the page if you will.
As a bonus we discovered a new place to explore on future trips. And the old general mercantile building was for sale in Rhyolite which in turn leads to flights of fancy and thoughts of abandoning the rat race.

REMEMBER WHEN

REMEMBER WHEN

From its inception, the automobile lent itself well to marketing that utilized catch phrases, slogans and jingles. In conjunction with flashy, eye-catching banners or advertisements, they became a foundational component in the development of the American auto industry and an infant car culture. Moreover, with the advent of radio, they soon became an integral part of our collective culture and many became more familiar than the national anthem itself.
Catch phrases, slogans, and ditties can often be recalled long after the vehicles they promoted are moldering in a scrap heap or have been recycled into beer cans or toasters. A catchy jingle played decades later can trigger crisp, clear images of the vehicle promoted so long ago attesting to the power of a successful marketing campaign.
Slogans from the formative years of the automotive age often speak volumes about the times. Then as now, slogans and catch phrases often encapsulate the social climate of the time in which they were penned, the technological state of the industry and its supportive infrastructure. When coupled with colorful advertisement they become windows into another era, a time capsule if you will.
Tag lines for the Jackson, “No hill is too steep or sand to deep” and the Model, “Hills and Sand Become Level Land” give an indication of road conditions in pre 1907 America. Likewise, with promotion for the Allen, “The King of Hill Climbers,” and the Kansas City Car, “The car that climbs the hills”and“Climbs hills like a squirrel and eats up the road like an express train – the Gale.”
In the decade that followed motoring became a bit more refined and automotive companies began promoting products that did more than provide Spartan, durable transportation. The Pope Toledo was, “The quiet, mile a minute car” and the Marmon Six of 1913 was, “The easiest riding car in the world” but “The thrills of speed with perfect control are his who drives the Biddle”.
Some early automobile companies chose simplicity in their promotion. Maxwell was, “perfectly simple, simply perfect.” King was “the car of no regrets.” The Durant was “just a real good car.” “A car to run around in” was the Austin but “Ride in a Glide, and then decide.”
More than a few companies, then as well as now, chose rhymes and limericks to ensure brand familiarity. Nevertheless, some of the more memorable and successful campaigns were those that were simplistic references to the companies’ merits. An excellent example of the latter would be Packard’s, “Ask the man who owns one” and REO’s “Gold Standard of Values” or Studebakers “The Automobile with a Reputation Behind It.”
Others chose to appeal to ego or vanity in their marketing campaigns. The Empire was, “The Little Aristocrat” and Lozier was “The Choice of Men Who Know.” The Winton Six of 1915 was “The closed car so necessary to a successful social season.” The Dorris was “Built up to a standard, not down to a price.”
By the second decade of the Twentieth Century, many aspects of the automobile such as steering wheels replacing tillers and engines that consisted of an equal number of cylinders had become industry standards. However, some innovators insisted on thinking outside of the box and the catch phrases and slogans devised for promotion of their vehicles presents another intriguing snap shot of the times.
The Cartercar was “the car of a thousand speeds – no clutch to slip, no gears to strip – no universal joints to break – no shaft drive to twist – no bevel gears to wear and howl, no noise to annoy”, “Premier – The Aluminum Six with Magnetic Gear Shift.” The Amplex was “Valveless and Self Starting.”
Then there were the slogans that leave one wondering if the idea was to sell vehicles or to ensure the company was not bothered with annoying customers. Beggs was “the car that is made a little better than seems necessary.” The Daniels was “the distinguished car with just a little more power than you will ever need” and Gearless was “A common sense car with no tender or delicate parts.”
During the formative years of the automotive industry in this country, there was a car for every need and a slogan to promote them. If you drove solely for enjoyment then there were “miles of smiles” in an American. However, if safety was a concern then there was the Cole, “The world’s safest car.” If loyalty to a particular region dictated your automotive choice the Vaughan “made in the Carolinas” might be the car for you. For the frugal consumer there was the Hanover, “The Car That Saves Money Every Mile” or the Westcott, “The Car with a Longer Life.”
The Porter Stanhope of 1900 was “The Only Perfect Automobile” but the Ford of 1903 was “The Boss of the Road.” The Northern was “Silent and Dustless” and the Oakland of 1909 was “The answer to the man who says, “Show me.” With Oldsmobile, there was “Nothing to watch but the road.”
Another fascinating aspect of early corporate slogans is how often they have been recycled for a new generation of consumer. As an example consider Cadillac’s “Standard of the World” that dates to 1912 and Buick’s “When Better Automobiles Are Built, Buick Will Build Them” which is even older.
With the exception of use as decorative wall coverings for automotive enthusiasts, vintage advertisement today has largely been overlooked negating an important part of automotive history to the realm of mere novelty. When one considers that they are so important to understanding how we became such a car-dominated culture this is quite surprising.

HARDWORKING BOWTIES

HARDWORKING BOWTIES

By Jim Hinckley
A redesigned grill, dash, and cab with one-piece windshield were not enough to conceal the lineage of the 1954 Chevrolet truck that marked the final full year of production for the Advance Design series initially introduced in 1947. In spite of the dated styling sales of 292,202 trucks enabled Chevrolet to hold its position as sales leader in the industry.
While the sheet metal of the 1954, and first series 1955, models hinted at what had been, the mechanics provided a glimpse into the future. The venerable 216.5 c.i.d. was dropped and the 235 c.i.d. six cylinder became standard on all light to medium duty trucks. A lengthy options list that included Hydramatic transmission, dual electric windshield wipers, and two-tone interiors also set these trucks apart from their predecessors. Additionally the antiquated torque tube was replaced with more modern open driveline on the first series 1955 models.
On March 25, 1955, it was out with the old, in with the new as Chevrolet introduced its fully redesigned Task Force series with “Modern Design for Modern Hauling.” A load pulling appearance accomplished with forward slanting windshield pillar, upper cab, front wheel openings, “egg crate” grill, as well as hooded headlights and hidden running boards gave the new trucks a profile that was as different as day and night from the Advance Design series.
A fully redesigned, wider frame provided Chevrolet the opportunity to offer an exciting new option, a 265 c.i.d., ohv valve V8 engine. Additional mechanical options included NAPCO four-wheel drive, Hydramatic transmission and, later in the model year, power steering as well as power brakes.
Further ensuring Chevrolet’s dominance of the market was expansion of available light duty models. The model 3204, a half-ton truck built on the long three quarter ton wheelbase with the corresponding long box, designed for those who hauled light but bulky loads and the limited production model 3124 Cameo.
Though limited in production the Cameo Carrier, and corresponding GMC Suburban, garnered much attention and proved to be industry trendsetters in many ways. The most distinctive feature of these revolutionary trucks was the replacement of the traditional protruding rear fenders with slab sides that allowed for a cab wide box.
As standard equipment, the Cameo utilized the deluxe cab of the task force series, including wrap around rear window. Additionally the Cameo featured full, chromed wheel covers, chrome grill, chromed headlight bezels, deluxe interior, and two-tone paint. The fiberglass side panels, accentuated with vertical chrome molding between the cab and box, terminated at the rear with recessed taillights.
Further separating the Cameo from other trucks in the series was a tailgate made smooth with an outer fiberglass panel enhanced with a red, reflective Chevrolet bowtie. Completing the package was a custom bumper with convex door between the bumper guards that allowed for access to the concealed spare tire.
Though the GMC Suburban shared many components, including box, with the Cameo the senior General Motors line featured larger, more powerful engines. Standard was the redesigned 248.5 c.i.d. six-cylinder engine but the new 287 c.i.d. Pontiac V8 was optional.
The Task Force series allowed Chevrolet to tighten its hold on the number one position in truck production. Total calendar year sales for 1955 of 329,791 units amounted to 34.5% of market share with Dodge, Ford, Studebaker, and International left to divide the remainder.
For 1956, Chevrolet directed the majority of its resources towards the development of heavy-duty trucks, the fastest growing segment of the truck market. As a result, the light duty trucks received but minor changes.
The 1957 model, introduced in October of 1956, recaptured the momentum of the series initial introduction. For the first time Chevrolet offered eighty-eight models on twenty-two wheelbases with eight available engines and a lengthy options list that included air conditioning. In addition, the entire front-end styling was extensively restyled.
The floating trapezoid within a trapezoid of the new grill accentuated the wide stance of this series. Other styling modifications included hood, nameplates, script, and now standard wide rear window.
Extensive styling revisions were the hallmark of the 1958 model year. The front fenders were wider at the top to accommodate the dual headlamps. A drop center hood, all new grill with Chevrolet spelled in block letters across the wide center bar and chrome, rectangular parking lamps gave the truck an entirely new look.

Sales of the Cameo Carrier, a limited production truck since its inception, dropped to a mere 375 trucks. In February of 1958, it was replaced with all steel Fleetside model.
Model designation was another change introduced in 1958. Light trucks were designated as 30, 40, 50, and 60 indicated medium duty ratings and heavy-duty models were tagged 70, 80, 90, and 100. Additionally the designation plate on the front fender identified each weight class by name, Apache on trucks up to 9,600 lb. GVW, Viking on trucks up to 21,000 lb. GVW and Spartan on heavy-duty models up to 25,000 lb. GVW designated each series.
As was the case with the1956 model year the Task Force trucks of 1959 received only minor trim and color changes from those produced in 1958 though the number of models increased to 139. Likewise, mechanical improvements and changes were relatively minor with the exception of a redesigned camshaft that resulted in a ten percent improvement in fuel economy for the six-cylinder engine and an optional Positraction rear axle.
From an historical perspective, the Task Force Chevrolet trucks built between 1955 and 1959 are truly transitional models. They are a bridge from the era when trucks were Spartan with but the most basic amenities to the modern age of boulevard cruiser that is more family car than truck.
As collector vehicles, these trucks are a near perfect blend. The classic styling, rugged durability, and ease of repair that were the hallmark of pickup trucks combined with mechanical components that allow for operation under modern traffic conditions with relative economy.