The following explains the history and function of the B-W overdrive. I'm installing an R-11 in my '41 Clipper.
The Borg-Warner Overdrive Transmission
The Borg Warner Overdrive Transmission began its life in the 1930s and was last used in Ford trucks in 1972. Popularity of the B-W OD lessoned over its long production life, especially after availability of fully automatic transmissions but it still remains the most versatile transmission ever put into a vehicle. However to maximize its full operating potential the driver must understand what it does and how it works.
There are many ways to “overdrive” a vehicle. To overdrive something is to gear it in such a manner that more revolutions come out of a gear set (the transmission) than went into it. Overdriving a running gear lowers the revolutions that the engine spins at any set speed, but overdriving also exchanges this lower engine speed for less of a mechanical advantage - less able to pull away from a stop, the less able to pull a load, the less able to pull a hill. In the simplest terms overdrive acts like a super-high gear that is intended to be used only at freeway speeds to lower the engine revolutions, lower engine wear and lower both engine oil and fuel consumption. Overdriving a vehicle can be done in many ways such as adding an additional entire transmission or adding an additional ‘gear’ to the existing transmission (like modern five speed transmissions where 5th gear is overdrive). An overdrive ratio can also be created with a planetary gear set. This is how a Borg-Warner OD transmission accomplishes an overdrive ratio. A planetary gear set is what exists in most automatic transmissions. For the purpose of understanding how a B-W OD system works all that needs to be remembered is that when the sun gear is held and the planets are driven by the transmission the output shaft, then more revolutions are sent to the driveshaft than went into the transmission. Holding and releasing the sun gear is all it takes to make a B-W OD transmission go into and out of overdrive.
History and operation of the Borg-Warner Overdrive Transmission
The B-W OD transmission originated during the 1930s to solve a number of problems that existed on cars at that time. It uses a freewheeling clutch that began life in the 1920s and later added a planetary gear set (operated as a purely mechanical device in the early 30s) and eventually finalized the design by using electrical components to operate the system by the late 1930s. Most every automotive manufacture offered the B-W OD set up as an option on their cars at one time during their production life. Manufactures who focused their marketing toward operating economy were all heavy promoters of the B-W overdrive. Studebaker probably made more OD equipped vehicles than anybody. Other marques to use the B-W O/D were: Chevrolet, DeSoto, Dodge, Ford, Fraizer, Hudson, Kaiser, Lincoln, Mercury, Nash, Packard, Plymouth and Willys.
During the 1930’s & 40’s, all vehicles were operated by a low horsepower (80-100HP) low compression engine, with a very long stroke. This engine design is very appropriate for in town driving conditions. To make it possible for a low power 1930’s-40’s engine to climb hills and haul loads manufactures installed very low rear axle ratios. (High numerically) 4:10+ was common and some vehicles approached and sometimes exceeded a 5:1 ratio. These ratios made it possible to climb a hill, but would also spin an engine very fast at highway speeds. Overdrive transmissions made modern freeway speeds possible while saving gas, oil and engines. A Borg-Warner OD has sometimes been called a ‘cable operated’ overdrive, IT IS NOT! A B-W OD is electrically operated. The only control visible to the driver is a cable located somewhere on the dashboard however all this cable does is ‘lock out’ the entire system. When the knob/cable is pulled out the transmission operates entirely as a standard three speed transmission. With a properly operating system and knowledgeable driver, the cable will be pushed in 90% of the time. When the OD cable IS pushed in, the first operating feature of the B-W OD transmission becomes apparent it “freewheels”. This means that while the engine can drive the wheels, when the vehicle coasts, no power is fed back to the engine; no engine braking, just coasting. So when the electrical components of a B-W OD are not functioning this is all that the transmission will do - freewheel. Freewheeling at speed is dangerous and can lead to loss of control due to increased brake use. However a properly functioning B-W OD does NOT freewheel at speeds above 28 mph. In a properly functioning OD engine braking DOES happen. The thought that engine braking is not possible is a major misconception for a B-W OD transmission. The other operating control for a B-W OD transmission is not readily visible to the driver. The kick down switch is a push button type switch that is operated only when the accelerator is fully depressed (mashed to the floor). It protruded through a hole in the floor and was activated by the back of the gas pedal. Later, the kick down switch migrated to the firewall and was operated by the throttle linkage.
Driving with overdrive
Driving a B-W OD vehicle starts off with the cable pushed in and the truck pulling away in first gear as normal. The truck accelerates and the driver shifts into second gear. At approximately 28 mph (BTW - nobody knows why 28 mph and not 25 or 30 mph) a small click can sometimes be heard from under the hood (activation of the relay on the firewall by the governor on the transmission) the driver then backs off on the gas and the transmission automatically shifts into overdrive. The shift feels exactly like a shift from an automatic transmission. The driver must release the accelerator completely such that the power comes back from the wheels toward the engine to complete the shift to OD. In an automatic transmission a shift will occur (eventually) even if the throttle is held open. For mechanical design reasons in a B-W OD set up, the driver MUST let off the throttle completely to allow the shift to happen. With the vehicle in second gear overdrive, the overall ratio is not quite as high as third, but higher than second. This is a perfect ratio for in town use. Between stoplights you don’t need to shift into third. However, if you continue accelerating and shift into third (from 2nd OD) and you will then be in third gear overdrive, the perfect ratio for the highway.
An often asked question is “Can you overdrive first gear?” The answer is yes, however you would have to exceed 28 mph for the system to activate. The real question then becomes “Can you exceed 28 mph in first?” 28 mph is pretty fast for first gear so 1st gear OD is rarely achieved. This means that while a B-W OD transmission has sometimes been called a ‘6 speed’ it is really provides only 5 practical forward ratios.While you are in overdrive if you back off the gas you will feel engine braking. (second or third) Because it is an overdrive ratio, the braking is not as evident as if the transmission were in 2nd or 3rd direct drive but the transmission does NOT coast. If the transmission does coast, the OD set up is not operating properly. Third gear OD is great for gliding along at highway speeds but it can lack power for passing or hill climbing. To get the transmission out of overdrive, mash the gas pedal to the floor. The engine will rev up and when the pedal compresses the kick down switch, it will suddenly and quickly shift back into direct drive. This shift feels exactly like the kick down of an automatic transmission. Complete your pass or top the hill in direct gear, then let off the gas completely for a moment and the transmission will shift back into overdrive. If you begin slowing down and shift from third OD to second OD, then slow down further as if approaching a stop light, as soon as the speed falls below 28 mph the power to the OD will be cut and the transmission will then be back in direct drive. This automatic loss of OD is a designed in safety feature because you must start out from a complete stop only in direct drive. To try to start out from a standing start in overdrive would create an incredible strain on the driveline is certain to damage something or at least result in increased clutch wear. Owners have sometimes rewired their systems and by-passed the governor by adding a manual switch to turn the system on & off. If this has been done it is very easy to forget and attempt to take off from a stop in first gear-overdrive. Doing this is as fool hardy as by-passing the neutral safety switch on an automatic transmission. So as you slow down below 28 mph you are automatically put back into second gear direct drive. HOWEVER, because the sun gear is no longer being held (no OD ratio) the transmission will freewheel. This event can be very surprising to someone who is not familiar with the operation of an OD transmission as suddenly there is NO engine braking! Since this occurs only below 28 mph there should not be much need for engine braking and using the foot brake to stop the truck should be just fine. But this is also where another novel aspect driving with a B-W OD transmission becomes apparent. All B-W OD transmission set ups (from all manufactures in all years) used a non-synchronized first gear. They never built a B-W OD transmission with a synchronized first gear because it doesn’t need to be synchronized! Drive in second gear OD, slow down below 28 mph and the trans falls out of OD and into freewheel mode. Step on the clutch and pull the lever into first and you will find it slips into first gear as easily as if it were synchronized, even if you are rolling. This ‘synchro effect’ happens because the freewheeling clutch prevents power from being transmitted from the driveshaft into the transmission. Push in the clutch and there are NO forces on the gears. When you pull the lever into first gear it slips in easily. The most clashing you get when shifting into first gear at a rolling speed, is a slight “ratcheting” of the gear teeth that you would expect if you were shifting from neutral into the low granny gear of a truck 4 speed or the reverse gear in any transmission. The freewheeling feature also makes clutchless shifting possible. Start in first, pull away and then WITHOUT depressing the clutch pedal, back off the gas and shift into second as easily as if you had pushed the clutch! If you shift into third gear before 28 mph (and engaging the OD) again there is no need to depress the clutch pedal to make the shift. If however you have allowed the transmission to engage the OD in second (backing of the gas) then depressing the clutch is necessary to shift from 2nd to 3rd. These operational features are what made the B-W OD transmission very desirable in the days before fully automatic transmissions. (Especially with the ladies) No clashing shifts into first; No clutch necessary to shift into second; Automatic shift into second OD around town. One other aspect of the freewheeling clutch needs to be discussed; parking and pushing. Pulling out the OD cable on the dash operates a lever on the side of the transmission and mechanically locks the sun gear to the planetary gears. (Ideally the cable should only be pulled out while the vehicle is stopped). When the OD cable is pushed in then the whole system just freewheels. This happens as long as the vehicle is below 28 MPH (or the system has no electrical power) the OD will not engage. This means that to push start an OD equipped vehicle, the cable needs to be pulled out for the wheels to send power to the engine when the clutch is released. Parking is the other situation that pulling out the OD cable is necessary. If you park pointing downhill and put the shifter into first, second or third without pulling out the cable, the forward motion will freewheel over the engine and the truck will roll away. There is no compression lock. To overcome this you can either pull the OD cable out or place the shifter into reverse. In order for any OD transmission to back up, the freewheeling clutch MUST be locked out. There is a shaft/rod built into the transmission that automatically accomplishes this whenever the transmission is put into reverse. So to park safely (set the brake) and then either pull out the OD cable OR place the shifter into reverse. This locks up the driveline and prevents all rolling. Couple the OD transmission with the very low rear end gears that existed in the 30s & 40s and you effectively had an automatic transmission. Owners manuals from that time suggested that around town you could (should?) start out in second gear slipping the clutch only slightly, (possible with a very low rear end gearing) then letting the trans shift itself into second overdrive. There is no need to touch the lever and limited use of the clutch.Speaking of rear end gears how are they affected by the overdrive? All B-W ODs overdrive function at a 0.7 overdrive ratio. Since all transmissions use a 1:1 ratio in high gear, to find out your final drive ratio in OD simply multiply the rear end ratio by 0.7. 4.11 = 2.87 3.70 = 2.59 Even a very low 4.56 ratio can be tamed by an OD into a very functional 3.19. This is what makes the B-W OD so appropriate for use in a truck. In a truck a low geared rear end could help it haul a heavy load but you don’t want to spin the engine so fast at highway speeds or when the truck is empty. With a functional OD you get the best of both worlds, strong low end pulling AND practical highway and unloaded use. An OD can also compensate for small diameter wheels & tires. Smaller wheels & tires spin an engine faster. 16” wheels turn the driveline slower than 15” which spin the driveline slower than 14” (as the wheels/tires get bigger they carry more weight and lower the engine speed but they also reduce the available power. All things are a compromise) All these factors need to be considered when outfitting a vehicle with a B-W OD transmission. If you use a rear axle ratio that is too high (numerically low) and/or couple it with wheels/tires that are too big in diameter a vehicle can actually slow down or use more fuel when it is operating in OD.
Troubleshooting
The Borg-Warner overdrive transmission combines both mechanical and electrical components. The mechanical components are very stout and as long as the transmission AND THE OVERDRIVE unit is filled with gear oil (see maintenance below) the only problems should be electrical, which are very easy to trouble shoot. Take an OD truck out for a test drive with the OD cable pushed in, if it freewheels above 28 mph (and you don’t feel the automatic shift) the trans is OK but there is an electrical problem. The OD electrical system is protected by just one fuse clipped to the relay on the firewall. This fuse gets power whenever the key is turned on. Begin your diagnosis by checking for power at both sides of this fuse. Because the relay is under the hood, the fuse and its mounting gets very corroded, very easily. Remove the fuse, and clean all the contacts thoroughly. If there is no power here, trace the wire back to the key switch to find the break.
Testing the system
If you have good power on both sides of the fuse on the OD relay, the next check is made under the vehicle. At the back of the transmission is the governor. This is a cylinder shaped device that is driven by the speedometer gear with ONE wire coming out of it. Inside the governor are weights that spin with the driveshaft. When they reach the magic speed of 28 mph, the wire going into the governor is grounded. The full circuit is that simple! For some reason the insulation on wire at the governor is always made from the same cloth used since the 1930s. This wire always seems to have a frayed spot. With the ignition key turned on, jump the wire to ground. (There could also be a wire connector between the governor and the OD harness. Pull it apart and ground the wire that was going to the governor). However you ground the governor wire, you should then hear a click from the relay on the firewall. Power comes from the fuse through the relay, which is then activated whenever it is grounded. Power from the relay to the governor does pass through the kick down switch. If there is no relay click when grounding the governor, check for 12 volts at the wire and trace it back to the kick down switch and then back to the relay to find the open circuit.If you have 12 volts at the governor and you hear a relay click when you ground the governor, then the relay should be sending power down to the solenoid. (the steel can on the side of the trans) As soon as the solenoid gets power, it too should click. (the solenoid is trying to push its plunger shaft into the trans) If the solenoid does not click, check to see that it is receiving 12 volts of power directly from the relay. If you have determined that 12 volt power is being sent to the solenoid from the relay, the solenoid can be tested by providing it with 12 volts directly. There are two wires on the solenoid. One wire activates the plunger and if it is given power, it should engage. The other wire goes directly to ground (part of the kick down circuit). Clip your 12 volt power source to one of the wires, it should either activate the solenoid or be completely grounded. 90% of the time all the electrical problems are nothing more than loose and dirty connections. Remove the wire connections at the relay and the kick down switch and ensure that they are clean. I have had to sometimes spray the components with WD-40 and polish the contacts. Occasionally you might have to bend the tangs of the relay cover to gain access inside the relay to file its contact points, but this is rare. When the kick down switch was moved to the firewall it got away from the road splash and all the dirt on the floor that accumulates under the gas pedal and made them much more reliable.
The electrical components for ALL Borg Warner OD transmissions are interchangeable. There are 6 & 12 volt versions and it seems like everybody used their own different types of wire connections, but once the connections and voltages match up, most any component will work in any system. (Some systems use a strange kick down switch at the carburetor but the basic function is all the same) So if you need a relay or solenoid you can use one from a Chevrolet, Rambler or Studebaker etc. Firewall mounted kick downs would generally have to come from a FoMoCo vehicle 1963 and up. A transmission that freewheels can generally be made operational with an electrical repair. If the transmission does not freewheel (This can even be checked with the transmission out of the car) then it should be assumed that the overdrive compartment was not filled with 90 wt oil and the planetary gears are seized. It needs to go a transmission specialist for a rebuild.
Maintenance
Maintenance of a Borg-Warner overdrive is easy. The most important thing to know is that there are TWO places to add 90wt gear oil in the transmission. There is the normal plug/hole in the side of the transmission but ANOTHER plug/hole is in the tail shaft area. Fill both to the bottom of the hole with normal hypoid 90 wt gear oil as you would for any standard transmission. As discussed above clean connections are essential for the electrical system to function.
Lubricating the cable
In a functional system you will find that you rarely need to pull the cable out while driving. You rarely ever need to lock out the system. If you are restoring an OD equipped vehicle you will most likely find that the cable has not been used and is stuck.. The cable must be removed completely to free it up. A big nut behind the cable secures it to the bracket under the dash. A 1/2” nut & bolt secures the functional cable end to the lock out lever on the transmission. The upper bolt on the solenoid secures the bracket that holds the outer cable. (Once unbolted, this sheet metal bracket is spread apart to remove it from the cable) Unbolt everything and pull the cable out through the firewall into the interior. By twisting the outer cable you should be able to break loose the inner cable enough to remove it. Use sandpaper to clean all the corrosion from the inner cable. Then use a wire wheel/brush to remove all the crud from the outer cable. Next insert the inner cable back into the outer sheave and spray the entire assembly with WD-40 or similar light oil. The outer cable is composed of wire tightly twisted around the inner cable. This design allows the oil to easily seep inside. Work it a bit and then it should move very easily.
Adding overdrive
Overdrive can be added to any truck but you need to do it completely. A complete overdrive transmission must be used. It is NOT possible to add the overdrive component to an existing three speed transmission. The main reason you cannot add the OD parts to an existing 3 speed trans is the need for a shaft/rod to pass from the gear box into the OD unit to automatically lock out the OD freewheeling clutch whenever it is shifted into reverse. Only gearboxes designed to be fitted to an OD unit had this passage and internal linkage. Borg-Warner built OD units that used either 3 or 4 planetary gears. The 4 gear system is the strongest. It was identified as an R-11 unit. These T-85/R-11 transmissions are strong enough that they were used behind the most powerful engines. Overdrive was offered behind the factory high performance Ford 390s and 406s in 1961-2 and the mighty 427 of 1963-4. After the 4 speed became available in 1962 request for the OD transmission declined but it did function just as intended by taming the very low rear end ratios that were commonly installed in high-performance cars. The main difference between the transmission installed in cars and trucks is the design of the tail shaft. Cars used a one piece driveshaft with a slip yoke in the trans. Trucks used a two piece shaft with a yoke bolted to the output shaft. The OD gears and components are all identical. If you have a broken truck trans and good OD gears in a passenger car transmission a rebuilder can easily open up the OD unit and swap the necessary components to make a car trans into a truck version or visa versa. These items are needed to add an overdrive:
1. The relay mounted to the firewall
2. The kick down switch mounted to the firewall and the accelerator linkage that activates it. (although it is also possible to use an older under pedal type switch)
3. The OD cable and dash bracket. (and a firewall grommet that seals the hole)
4. The wiring harness. (Without a harness the wiring harness can be fabricated by connecting the terminals and components).
For the original Borg-Warner overdrive manual, go to:
http://www.packardinfo.com/xoops/html/downloads/BW_OD.pdf
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Transmission trouble
It started on US 40 just west of Richmond, Indiana, in June, 2009. My wife and I were on our way to our car club's annual "Farm Boys Tour," this year in the New Castle, Indiana area. Attempting to shift up from a stop light, somehow both transmission forks engaged at the same time, and we came to a screeching halt! Luckily, the garbage truck behind us was able to stop in time and the young men on board assisted me in getting off the highway. I was able disengage the jammed gears, but initial inspection indicated some serious damage had occurred. There was a distinct "thump, thump, thump" when in first gear. Not wanting to make things worse, we decided to continue the tour riding with friends and to trailer our car home at the tour's conclusion.
When we got home, I removed the inspection plate on the front floor "hump" to see what needed fixing. With the transmission exposed, I was able to remove the top plate that houses the fork assembly....in several pieces! Yes, it appeared the extreme torque forced onto the mechanism had broken the plate. Inside, I also was able to find the source of the "thumping"...first gear had lost two teeth and chipped a third. I put the Clipper up on blocks and removed the unit from the bell housing to the drive shaft. It appeared that a rebuilt transmission was in order, either this one or one that was ready to bolt in. I also thought while I had the tranny out, I should probably rebuild the clutch too. I think a "sluggish clutch" probably caused both forks to engage in the first place.
What to do, what to do.....
My search for parts and/or a tranny and clutch began. The internet is invaluable for finding old car parts. Using ebay, and forums on packardinfo.com and aaca.com, I was able do find many of the clutch parts and possible transmissions that I needed. I concluded that it would be easier and probably cheaper to replace the whole transmission with a new one.
I finally settled on a freshly rebuilt R-11 OVERDRIVE out of a '53 Patrician restoration project that was being parted out from a Packard collector's estate in California. Internet Packard experts assured me that this "newer" unit would bolt-up to my '41, 282" okay and that it would fit through the "X" in the middle of the frame.
Another Ohio Packard enthusiast had traveled to the west coast to purchase from the estate, a rebuilt 327", nine-main engine and, what was believed to be, an Ultrimatic transmission attached to it. But when he got there he discovered it wasn't the Ultramatic he wanted, but a 3-speed R-11 overdrive....just what I needed! He brought it back to Ohio anyway and sold me the transmission, the bell housing, the flywheel and the rebuilt clutch parts....all for one money.
Installation begins....
It's now the end of October. Even though I finally got my prized O/D transmission, many of the electrical components to make it functional were left in CA. Going back to the internet, an overdrive relay, a kickdown switch and a lockout cable were all located and purchased. From the internet, I also printed the original Borg-Warner manual that explains how the overdrive works and how installation should be accomplished. I also knew at this point that I would need to have the drive shaft shortened (and balanced) about seven inches to accommodate the longer overdrive transmission. Friends tell me that a local firm does this type of work. Now with most of the stuff I need to finish this project, I began to install the rebuilt clutch.
I discovered that the new pressure plate I purchased was slightly larger than the one it was replacing. The hole pattern on the flywheel was different to accept the larger plate. Simple fix: since the correct flywheel for the pressure plate was included with the transmission purchase, I switched them. Next. I borrowed a centering tool from a local mechanic to get the friction plate behind the pressure plate lined up correctly. But when tightening the pressure plate bolts to the flywheel, I didn't know my own strength and I twisted off the last one! Ohhhhh! I know, that's why they make torque wrenches! I used a drill-bit guide and drilled a 1/8 inch hole into the broken bolt. Then I took a left handed 3/16 bit to it, and when it bit, out she came! Next I bolted the cast iron bell housing bottom from the '53 Patrician to my bell housing top. It fit perfectly! I wanted to use it instead of the pressed steel one that I had because it adds support to the bigger transmission with its heft and an additional bolt on a gusset.
Before installing the new transmission, I need to remove the old speedometer cable and gear from the tail housing. It's stuck....really stuck! PB blaster seems to have finally loosened it, but it still won't come out. I'm using a cold chisel and moving it slightly around in the housing hole, but still no success in removing it. As a last resort I will use some heat. More later when I get it out.
I've also removed the shifting linkage arms from the fork shafts on the top of the transmission. I will need to use the old ones that have a curve to them so as to fit around the frame crossmember mounts that holds the whole unit in place. The '53 Patriacian that this unit came out of must have been held into place differently because the straight levers on this tranny would be in the way of the crossmember mounts on my car.
We finally got the speedometer gear/cable out today (11-12-09)! I took the whole unit to a local mechanic and we used an extraction tool and some muscle and it FINALLY, stubbornly, came out! It appeared to be just corrosion holding a grip on it. Now maybe next week (when I have some time and with some help) I can finally try to hoist it into place.
When we got home, I removed the inspection plate on the front floor "hump" to see what needed fixing. With the transmission exposed, I was able to remove the top plate that houses the fork assembly....in several pieces! Yes, it appeared the extreme torque forced onto the mechanism had broken the plate. Inside, I also was able to find the source of the "thumping"...first gear had lost two teeth and chipped a third. I put the Clipper up on blocks and removed the unit from the bell housing to the drive shaft. It appeared that a rebuilt transmission was in order, either this one or one that was ready to bolt in. I also thought while I had the tranny out, I should probably rebuild the clutch too. I think a "sluggish clutch" probably caused both forks to engage in the first place.
What to do, what to do.....
My search for parts and/or a tranny and clutch began. The internet is invaluable for finding old car parts. Using ebay, and forums on packardinfo.com and aaca.com, I was able do find many of the clutch parts and possible transmissions that I needed. I concluded that it would be easier and probably cheaper to replace the whole transmission with a new one.
I finally settled on a freshly rebuilt R-11 OVERDRIVE out of a '53 Patrician restoration project that was being parted out from a Packard collector's estate in California. Internet Packard experts assured me that this "newer" unit would bolt-up to my '41, 282" okay and that it would fit through the "X" in the middle of the frame.
Another Ohio Packard enthusiast had traveled to the west coast to purchase from the estate, a rebuilt 327", nine-main engine and, what was believed to be, an Ultrimatic transmission attached to it. But when he got there he discovered it wasn't the Ultramatic he wanted, but a 3-speed R-11 overdrive....just what I needed! He brought it back to Ohio anyway and sold me the transmission, the bell housing, the flywheel and the rebuilt clutch parts....all for one money.
Installation begins....
It's now the end of October. Even though I finally got my prized O/D transmission, many of the electrical components to make it functional were left in CA. Going back to the internet, an overdrive relay, a kickdown switch and a lockout cable were all located and purchased. From the internet, I also printed the original Borg-Warner manual that explains how the overdrive works and how installation should be accomplished. I also knew at this point that I would need to have the drive shaft shortened (and balanced) about seven inches to accommodate the longer overdrive transmission. Friends tell me that a local firm does this type of work. Now with most of the stuff I need to finish this project, I began to install the rebuilt clutch.
I discovered that the new pressure plate I purchased was slightly larger than the one it was replacing. The hole pattern on the flywheel was different to accept the larger plate. Simple fix: since the correct flywheel for the pressure plate was included with the transmission purchase, I switched them. Next. I borrowed a centering tool from a local mechanic to get the friction plate behind the pressure plate lined up correctly. But when tightening the pressure plate bolts to the flywheel, I didn't know my own strength and I twisted off the last one! Ohhhhh! I know, that's why they make torque wrenches! I used a drill-bit guide and drilled a 1/8 inch hole into the broken bolt. Then I took a left handed 3/16 bit to it, and when it bit, out she came! Next I bolted the cast iron bell housing bottom from the '53 Patrician to my bell housing top. It fit perfectly! I wanted to use it instead of the pressed steel one that I had because it adds support to the bigger transmission with its heft and an additional bolt on a gusset.
Before installing the new transmission, I need to remove the old speedometer cable and gear from the tail housing. It's stuck....really stuck! PB blaster seems to have finally loosened it, but it still won't come out. I'm using a cold chisel and moving it slightly around in the housing hole, but still no success in removing it. As a last resort I will use some heat. More later when I get it out.
I've also removed the shifting linkage arms from the fork shafts on the top of the transmission. I will need to use the old ones that have a curve to them so as to fit around the frame crossmember mounts that holds the whole unit in place. The '53 Patriacian that this unit came out of must have been held into place differently because the straight levers on this tranny would be in the way of the crossmember mounts on my car.
We finally got the speedometer gear/cable out today (11-12-09)! I took the whole unit to a local mechanic and we used an extraction tool and some muscle and it FINALLY, stubbornly, came out! It appeared to be just corrosion holding a grip on it. Now maybe next week (when I have some time and with some help) I can finally try to hoist it into place.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
A little modification
I am basically a purist when it comes to restoration, but when safety or to a degree comfort is involved, I am not above making slight modifications to that goal. I put our '41 on 15 X 7.00 RADIAL white walls and have a set of seat belts to install too. I feel the cowl vent is really inadequate on hot days and adding modern A/C would take the restoration too far from original. So what I did was add vents to both sides to push additional air into the front seat compartment (at least when we're moving). I cut 4 1/2" holes into the air shroud behind the horizontal grills in front, and also into the backside of the inner fenders and side panels behind the kick panels on both sides. Then I ran five feet of 4" plastic corrugated field drain tile (not perforated) high through the wheel wells on both sides, to carry the air by connecting the holes. On the inner panels, I added regular home dampers (6 inch I think) and then vent grills (from a '52 Packard) to cover the dampers and direct the air. They actually look pretty original inside if you didn't know they weren't supposed to be there. AND, they work great!
History of the Packard Clipper...the streamlined design icon.
THE 1941-47 PACKARD CLIPPER
By the end of the thirties, Packard president Max M. Gilman realized that his best efforts to improve profitability during the last lean decade had not been enough. The One Twenty had arrived in the nick of time in 1935 to save the company from immediate demise; the One Ten had followed, achieving even higher volume. But despite a strong performance in revival year 1937, Packard sales had plummeted as the depression returned in 1938, and the 76,000 sales for the calendar year 1939 were hardly past the break-even point. To be precise, they netted the company a scant half million dollars. Combine this precarious financial state with the new model developments among Packard’s rivals, we can see why Gilman needed something radically new, and that he needed it in a hurry.Introduced a scant eight months before Pearl Harbor, Packard’s hopes for the future rode on a sleek new car design. The Packard Clipper represented an almost total break from traditionally styling and embodied an abrupt change in construction techniques. But with the falling of that first bomb over our Pacific fleet, the fate of the radically new Clipper was irrevocably altered. Instead of a fresh new interpretation of traditional Packard styling—the basis for a plethora of new luxury body styles—it was cut off from the showrooms by World War II. By the time it returned, management was too busy thinking about a quick facelift to consider that they had in the Clipper the key to regaining Packard’s luxury image. The investment to produce the only all-new 1941 American car had been squandered; it led only to a compounding of earlier mistakes: a postwar round of non-luxury Packards which in the end proved fatal to the Packard Motor Car Company.The Clipper’s historical importance lies in its timing and the result that timing had on subsequent decisions which so crucially affected Packard’s later years. In these events, we can see that the Clipper represented a continuum: Packard’s timeless styling hallmarks combined with the modern envelope body was as effective a mating of the old and the new as anyone could point to in American automobile history. Management abandoned that continuum in a decision that almost immediately affected the Packard image, inflicting a wound that would prove terminal by the mid-Fifties. Yet its decision was not at all extraordinary or unexpected at the time.
BAD TIMING
Unfortunately for Packard, the Clipper’s timing couldn’t have been worse. After only 16,600 of the ‘41’s were made, and a few thousand ‘42’s, Detroit stopped building civilian automobiles to concentrate on defense production. By the time cars began rolling off the lines again in late 1945, the Clipper was no different from other old-had models offered by the rest of the industry. The bright promise of its debut was limited by late introduction; what should have been its solid sophomore year was nipped in the bud by World War II. Its third and fourth years were postponed until 1946-47 when they served only as reminders that the Clipper was out of date.There was just one other auto maker that introduced all-new 1941 models which were stopped short by the American entry into World War II and thus rendered obsolete before their time. Other than Packard, only Ford brought out a much changed design for the 1941 model year--the restyled Ford and its Mercury clone. No other manufacturers introduced new 1941 models. General Motors redesigned for 1942, arguably a piece of bad timing even worse than Packard’s, but the ‘42’s were so few in number that they still looked new when GM resumed automotive production in 1946. The Ford/Mercury comparison is not apt either, primarily because these were quite different cars from Packards, with no pretense of luxury. Nor did their design history mirror the Clipper’s. The 1941 Fords and Mercurys were evolutionary developments, clearly related to the ‘40’s they replaced. The Clipper was such a dramatic break with previous Packard design as to preclude comparisons.After the war, while Packard opted to facelift the Clipper (1948), Ford chose a total restyle for Ford and Mercury in 1949. And, while the bulbous 1941-48 Fords and Mercs were replaced by superior modern designs, the elegant Clipper was replaced by a bulbous facelift that owed nothing to modernity. It is not entirely coincidental that a 1949 Mercury Eight which had cost $2,000 new was still worth $430 five years later, while a 1949 Packard Eight which had cost $2,200 new was worth only $375.So the Clipper’s timing was unique. The state of the world being beyond Packard’s control, Clipper production came to a halt in February 1942, just as it was hitting its stride—just as Clipper styling had permeated virtually the entire line. It left a void that Packard failed to fill; a promise Packard failed to keep; a continuum Packard disdained and discarded.
STYLE IDENTITY
A full envelope body of genuinely modern mien was a long time coming at the Packard Motor Car Company. Cadillac was wearing pontoon fenders and flowing lines by 1934 and had adopted all-steel bodies by 1935. In 1936, Lincoln announced the Zephyr, with a radical all steel unit-body and a shape so advanced that derivations of it were still in production twelve years later. By comparison Packard had been incredibly conservative. Its main acknowledgement of new-era styling was the skirted fender which appeared in 1933. Packard, like Lincoln and Cadillac, had survived the Depression by building medium-priced cars: the One Twenty, Zephyr and LaSalle, respectively. But unlike its rivals, Packard styling had remained arch-traditional. Unlike Lincoln, Packard followed its medium-priced One Twenty with an almost-low-priced car, the Six (later briefly known as the One Ten). Unlike Cadillac, Packard refused to market its cheaper models by a different name and remained wedded to them long after prosperity had returned. By 1941, the year the Clipper debuted, the cheapest Cadillac cost $1,445; the cheapest Packard sold for only $927.Arguably its conservative design philosophy had stood Packard well in the years leading up to the Clipper. The company was able to advertise—and sold quite a few Packards with—styling continuity from year to year. There was a family resemblance between a ’39, say, and a ’32. In 1939 comparison of its One Twenty with the LaSalle, the company declared that: “Packard has style identity…Packard styling is consistent..But look ant the 1938 LaSalle! About the only similarity is in the name, and who can be sure that a sudden fanciful style change won’t make the 1939 a style orphan?”That was a good argument and still is. Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royce survived for years with very expensive obsolete designs. Packard also survived with limited styling change for at least eight or nine years up through 1940. What’s more, Packard hallmarks were very good ones: the chiseled frontispiece; the grille recalling classic Greek architecture; the ox-yoke radiator/bonnet shape that harked back to the noble Model L of 1904. What’s more, the pelican mascot, red hexagon hubs and arrowhead side-spear were a combination at least as recognizable and timeless as the stand-up hood ornament and meshwork grille of Mercedes-Benz. Together, these consistent hallmarks unmistakably said “Packard” to school children and bankers alike and had been the adornments of the chosen transport of moneyed America since Packard’s Boss of the Road Six and Twin Six of the Teens and early Twenties.To create a modern envelope body while retaining those famous hallmarks was no small undertaking. It is still one of the chief accomplishments of automotive industrial design that the people who created the Packard Clipper were able to do so almost flawlessly. When advertising invited America to “Skipper the Clipper” in 1941. It was showing the country an obviously brand-new, up-to-date, “speed-stream” automobile, yet one that was undeniably a Packard. Though it didn’t owe a curve or contour to any previous model, the Clipper carried the same inimitable radiator and hood shape, the same arrowheads and red hexes, the same long hood and close-coupled profile of great Packards of the past. The smooth styling transition was a stroke of genius.
GENESIS OF A GREAT DESIGN
Writing in The Classic Car and The Packard Cormorant, Joel Prescott published an account of the Clipper design which considerably revised the picture offered by George Hamlin and Dwight Heinmuller in Packard: A History of the Motor Car and The Company, published by Automotive Quarterly. The Cormorant has also published excerpts of James A. Ward’s book on the decline of the Packard Motor Car Company. The testimony of such designers as Howard Darrin, John Reinhart, William Reithard and Alex Tremulis is on the record. What can be added to the story of the Clipper’s bittersweet production is the Clipper’s place in Packard history.Prior to World War II, Packard never had a styling department. Indeed, few auto companies did. It was Harley Earl’s formidable Art & Colour Section at General Motors that convinced the industry of the importance of styling. But even Earl’s efforts didn’t force rivals to add design departments until after the war. A handful of outside consultants, like Raymond Loewy at Studebaker, occasionally sold their designs to American producers. Sometimes the designs even reached production without drastic changes by the body engineers who then largely controlled the shape of cars. One such design consultant was a Californian named Howard “Dutch” Darrin. His involvement in the Clipper occurred because his favorite American make was Packard.Dutch was born a promoter, and when he was alive, his claim to the Clipper was never challenged, primarily because he was the loudest exponent of it and would drown out any rival by sheer verbiage. Enough is known now to realize that the Clipper wasn’t entirely Dutch’s work. But its story must start with Darrin because without him it probably would not have looked as it did. If he was not its sole designer, then he certainly inspired it.After returning to America in 1937 following a successful career as a Paris coachbuilder in league with such names a Fernandez and Hibbard, Darrin looked around for chassis on which to practice his automotive art. He said, “I concentrated on Packards knowing that by lowering the radiator I could make a very beautiful custom-bodied Packard with little change in its basic structure.” The result was a long skein of dramatic Packard-Darrins, which were actually catalogued be the company at one point and which led to Dutch’s role in the Clipper. “Around 1940, Packard called and asked if I’d design a new standard line car for them. The hitch was that I had only ten days to do so. Chief stylist Ed Macauley (actually vice-president for design) would be on the coast for that amount of time, and if I didn’t have anything before he left, it would be a lost cause. The company offered me a thousand a day if I could meet the deadline.”Confident in his ability to put a thousand a day to good use, Dutch casually said he thought he “could establish enough lines for a full- and quarter-scale model.” Later he said that to meet the deadline, he “slept several nights on a drafting table, “ yet Packard never paid him.That is the gospel according to the late Dutch. What seems sure is that he did in fact deliver a quarter-scale clay model to Ed Macauley, who brought it back to Detroit and showed it to his in-house team, and also to Briggs. Darrin’s claim to the Clipper was subsequently supported by the late Alex Tremulis. Tremulis recalled his first encounter with the Clipper prototype at Briggs, Packard’s coachbuilder from 1941, where the Clipper was finalized for production. One glance had convinced him, Tremulis wrote, that this model had “all the fingerprints” of Darrin: “There was the downward swept beltline and the inimitable Darrin blind quarter, with a Darrinized notchback roof flowing into a beautifully swept rear luggage compartment. It had a front fender flow with the characteristic Darrin angle.” The door hinges were concealed and the archaic running boards had disappeared.Darrin’s claim of authorship went largely unchallenged until 1991, when Joel Prescott published his revealing interview with William Reithard, model maker hired by Packard’s Werner Gubitz in 1940. Gubitz had handled in-house styling for Packard for years and did marvelous work within the limits imposed by the company’s conservatism. What input, Prescott asked, did Packard get from Dutch? Reithard’s reply would change Packard history as we had known it: “My first meeting with Darrin was when he was brought into the Styling Section at Packard to present his concept for the Clipper. The arrangement had been made with top management and was not popular with Styling. Bud Hall (a clay model builder) and I were assigned to the project and spent several weeks with Dutch. He turned to be a delightful personality, very enthusiastic and friendly. As we worked, we were regaled with stories about his exploits in Paris.We did our best to help him out. But the model we did was discarded. There just wasn’t any interest in it. We never got any drawings from Dutch. We just worked on a (clay) buck. He wasn’t the kind who really sat down and designed, you know. . . In my opinion, Dutch was not a great designer. He did have a good feeling for form and a good sense of proportion, but he was not a careful detailer. He was a terrific salesman, though. You know, when he and Thomas Hibbard were together over in Paris, Hibbard was responsible for the design work and Dutch was the salesman.”This is a casebook description of another styling salesman who knew good lines when he saw them: Raymond Loewy. Two longtime Darrin rivals also had made similar remarks. Designer Brooks Stevens once said, “Dutch never designed anything—he just gesticulated with a clay tool.” Meanwhile, Kaiser-Frazer stylist Bob Robillard recalled finding Darrin’s model of the 1951 Kaiser “with a clay tool imbedded to the hilt in its hood: you could have entitled that scene ‘frustration.’” The real talent behind the Clipper, Reithard went on, “lay right within the design group that Gubitz had. Howard Yeager was the man, as far as I’m concerned, who was responsible for the Clipper. Phil Wright (on loan from Briggs) was there, Bud Hall and, of course, there was Johnny Reinhart (later chief Packard stylist, responsible for the 1948-54 bodies). Shortly after I arrived they also hired Art Fitzpatrick, a terrific renderer.” As Robillard remembers:“My first assignment was to work on a twelfth-size model that was actually derived from a Buick design, with a Packard front end on it. The Clipper design later emerged from that model. As I said, it was primarily Howard Yeager’s work, other supplied various details. In fact, I myself later worked on the Clipper instrument panel.”Robillard admitted that Darrin had held onto his claim as originator of the Clipper almost from the start. He still has copies of a 1946 Darrin paper delivered before the Society of Automotive Engineers, “Does Styling Control the Design of Cars?” In it Darrin states that he widened the Clipper body because the continuous fender-line, which comes right through the door past the A-pillar, required more width for the proper hinging of the door, “the net result being a wider and more roomy car.” Reithard disagrees. Before Darrin arrived, he remembered, “the parameters for track, wheelbase and overall length had been established. Other than that we had very little to go on except some very rough sketches and hand-waving from Dutch.”But a quarter century later in Automobile Quarterly, Dutch was still repeating his 1946 claims, which were not challenged at the time. As Darrin stated: “Packard introduced the Clipper with a series of ads entitled, ‘A Star is Born,’” which he considered inaccurate. “The best compliment they paid me was stating that ‘three international designers’ combined to create the Clipper.” Packard was evidently referring to Darrin. George Walker (another outside consultant) and Briggs, all of whom had contributed to the design. But Darrin typically had his own interpretation: You might construe that to mean that I was the equal of three designers.”While Darrin clearly held himself the central design figure, his view of the final production car was equivocal—and also provides us with clues as to what really happened. Darrin’s original design “called for a sweeping frond fender-line that carried right through the doors to the rise of the rear fender, similar to a custom Clipper I built later for Errol Flynn. But Packard shortened the sweep to fade away at mid-door. This was done as a hedge because no one knew if the through-fender-line would sell.” He said Packard Styling also “vandalized the design by throwing on huge gobs of clay along the wheelbase” creating a flair to the doors to hide the running boards they added for the same reason. Thus by Darrin’s own admission, the Clipper that appeared in production was not entirely his work. That Packard never paid Darrin also suggests that they held him less than fully responsible. And no designer besides Dutch ever believed this splendid car was the product of ten days’ work.The question of how much influence Darrin had therefore boils down to whether we accept Reithard’s remembrance that his model was discarded. Even if this was the case (and we have no reason to doubt it), automotive design is a group sport. There is no telling, so many years removed, the degree of Darrin’s influence over Howard Yeager, Werner Gubitz, Phil Wright or George Walker. One can only surmise. But based on Alex Tremulis’ recollections, we might well grant Dutch a degree of credit. The lines of the Clipper definitely recall certain Darrin themes which Tremulis with his professional eye recognized. The elegant curves and the long hood, the sweep of the fender (whether or not it swept all the way back) and the sheer presence of the car relate to the Darrin Packards. If Dutch’s pen didn’t create those lines, his ideas almost certainly influenced them.Perhaps the best summation of the Clipper’s design comes from Joel Prescott: “The truth may well be that the Clipper should be remembered as automotive history’s most successful committee design, because assigning the genius of its beautiful lines exclusively to one particular designer cannot now be done with any degree of certainty.” And as it turned out, this new “look” guaranteed the Clipper an appearance never compromised by competitive imitators. In 1942 Cadillac and Buick adopted the same pontoon fender line, but the Clipper still looked unique and, with its new long-wheelbase ’42 seniors.
ENGINEERING AND EVOLUTION
When considering the great transitional designs that brought us from the art deco and speed-lining age of the Thirties into the envelope bodies of the Forties, much is always made of Bill Mitchell’s famous Cadillac Sixty Special. In particular, its thin window frames, squared-off roof, wider-than-high grille, and concealed running boards were bold steps forward. The Clipper had at least as many pioneering features in an even more integrated package. The original 1941 Clipper rode the senior wheelbase of 127 inches and used the One Twenty’s 282-cubic-inch straight eight, but produced 125 bhp (five more than the One Twenty). Despite the familiar engine, few Clipper parts were interchangeable with other models. The chassis was entirely new: a double-drop frame allowed a lower floor without reducing road clearance. The engine was mounted well forward and the rear shocks were angled to assist the traditional Packard fifth shock in controlling side-sway. The front suspension was entirely new, since the lower frame eliminated the need for Packard’s traditional long torque arms. A double-link connection between the Pitman arm and steering brackets, with a cross bar and idler arm and two cross tubes, controlled wheel movement. The 1941 Clipper was the widest production car in the industry and first to be wider than it was tall—a foot wider to be exact. The body from cowl to deck was a single piece of steel—largest in the industry, and the floor pan had only one welded seam from end to end. Single pieces of sheet metal comprised the rear quarters and hood. The hood could be lifted from either side of the car or removed entirely by throwing two levers. Instead of the traditional third side window, ventipanes were incorporated in the rear doors, providing wonderfully controllable flow-through ventilation. The battery made its first move from under the seat to under the hood, where it stayed warmer and was more accessible. There was a “Ventalarm” whistle to warn when the tank was within a gallon of being full, and an accelerator-activated starter button, so the act of starting simultaneously set the automatic choke. Reithard’s beautiful symmetrical dashboard contained a full ration of instruments, including an electric oil pressure gauge adapted from the One Sixty. Options included Packard’s Electromatic clutch, “Econo-drive” (Borg-Warner overdrive), an effective auxiliary under-seat heater, leather upholstery, full fender skirts, and one of the first air conditioning units in the industry costing only $275. Introduced in April of 1941 as a single four-door sedan model, the Clipper was by no means a cheap or even medium-priced car. It sold for around $1,400, in a market niche between the One Twenty and One Sixty, competing with the Cadillac Sixty-One, Lincoln Zephyr, Buick Roadmaster and Chrysler New Yorker. Despite a late start, it garnered 16,600 model year sales, almost as many as the One Twenty. Clearly, for Packard, it was the wave of the future. By the 1942 model year, Clipper styling had permeated every Packard in the line, except where special tooling existed—convertibles, taxis, wagons and commercial cars. Curiously, however, the market slot occupied by the ’41 Clipper was abandoned, recreating a gap between the Clipper One Twenty Custom ($1.341) and the Clipper One Sixty ($1,688).The bulk of the 1942 production was concentrated on the 120-inch wheelbase junior models, but the One Sixty and One Eighty Clippers proved conclusively that Packard was as much a builder of luxury cars as ever. The 1942 One Sixty sedan, for example, was 9.5 inches longer and 140 pounds heaver than its square-rigged 1941 predecessor. The One Eighty was wider, almost as long, with more interior width and almost as much legroom as the long-wheel-base 1942 One Eighty, which still used the old-style Packard bodywork.The silky smooth 356-cubic inch straight eight of the One Sixty and One Eighty Clippers, with its 105-pound, seven-main-bearing crankshaft, was the mightiest engine in the industry through 1947, exceeding Cadillac’s V-8 by 15 horsepower. Although not designed primarily for performance, its power delivery has been compared by some drivers to a late model steam locomotive: smooth, refined and extremely powerful. It could deliver 80 mph in second gear and circulate the huge Packard Proving Grounds banked oval track at 110 mph—marvelous for a 4,000-pound luxury car in 1942. Its prodigious torque would allow it to walk away from a dead stop . . . in third gear. . . up hill. You could (and Packard did) balance a nickel on the head with the engine idling.The top of the line Clipper One Eighty offered two shades of leather or six colors of wool broadcloth upholstery, Mosstred carpeting from New York’s Shulton Looms, walnut grained instrument panels, amboyna burl garnish moldings, seatbacks stuffed with down and rear center armrests. Unlike any other contemporary, the post war Custom Super’s headliner was seamed fore to aft instead of sideways. Packard claimed that the unique headliner was adopted “to provide a more spacious feel to the interior.” That these superb luxury cars were built for the classes and not the masses is attested by the Classic Car Club of America, which granted “Classic” status to the 1946-47 Custom Super Clipper, one of the few postwar cars so recognized. With a nearly-full line of Clippers, Packard managed to build 34,000 1942 models before production ceased in February (an annual rate of around 80,000). According to the late John Reinhart, there is no doubt that Clipper styling would have proliferated in 1943-45. “The next logical step would have been convertibles and commercials—and a wagon.” But the war intervened. Whereas Cadillac with its greater facilities was able to field a complete line of restyled ‘42’s including convertibles, all of which came right back in 1946, Packard was able only to add a club coupe body before the war.The club coupe was a magnificent looking car—the sportiest and rarest Clipper destined to be built. Only about 40 are thought to have been built before production closed down in 1942; a single One Sixty is the only example known to exist. Postwar, scarcely 600 senior coupes came off the production lines, compared to about 6,600 senior sedans as Packard emphasized the more popular four-door body style.In 1946-47 the numerical designations were dropped and the line consisted of Clipper Sixes and Eights on the 120-inch wheelbase and Supers and Custom Supers on the 127-inch wheelbase. For the first time there were now seven-passenger sedans and limousines, riding a 148-inch wheelbase. For their type, these “professional Packards” enjoyed excellent success. They compare favorably with Cadillac’s 1946-47 Seventy-five, beating it not only be 15 horsepower but by a foot of wheelbase, yet selling for about the same $4,500-$5,000. Counting several thousand bare chassis supplied to commercial body manufacturers, the Seventy-five outsold the long wheelbase Clipper; but for finished cars from the factory, production was dead even: about 3,100 cars each for 1946-47 combined.
CONTINUUM LOST
Many economic experts predicted that the end of World War II would bring a severe recession or perhaps even another depression to the United States. They had history of their side because the U.S. did experience a sharp, albeit brief economic downturn after World War I. Perhaps Packard’s management team took these calamitous warnings to heart while planning its postwar strategy. Obviously, if the economy were to take a tumble, it would make sense to push the low-priced Packards—the Clipper Sixes and Eights—rather than the up-market Supers and Custom Supers. The postwar economy, of course, proved the experts wrong. It was healthy—so healthy in fact that many materials, notably sheet steel, were in short supply. Workers, wanting their piece of the pie, demanded more money, and so the automakers and their suppliers endured a series of strikes. These factors, of course, strangled production. At the same time, Americans had money jingling in their pockets, and they were willing to spend freely to acquire most anything—especially new cars. Price, it seemed, hardly mattered. Packard thus found itself in a dilemma, whether or not it realized it. On the one hand, the firm couldn’t even begin to produce cars in the numbers it had intended. On the other, the cars it did turn out were mainly the less profitable junior-series models.Unfortunately as it proved, Packard management’s chief interest after the war was in the same medium-priced cars that had saved it in the Depression, the Six and junior Eights. The company was still firmly run by President George Christopher, who had helped save it with the One Twenty, and whose most famous remark refers to the luxury Packards as “g..d..m senior stuff.” Christopher had junior Clippers in production by October 1945, but it wasn’t until June 1946 that the first Custom Super came down the line. Total Packard production in the first two postwar model years was 82,000, against 91,000 Cadillacs. The difference was that the vast bulk of Packard production was of Clipper Sixes and Eights priced $1,700-2,200. The Cadillacs (except for the fast-diminishing Sixty-one) began around $2,300. Quite obviously, Packard could have built, and sold, almost as many senior Clippers as Cadillac sold Sixty-two’s and Sixty Specials, had Christopher and his team chosen to do so.Clearly, the long-wheelbase Clippers were competitive with the Cadillac and the low-volume Chrysler Crown Imperial (Lincoln had no long models) in the first two postwar years. Likewise, among owner-driver models, Packard had Cadillac neatly bracketed. The Cadillac Sixty-two sedan and coupe started around $2.300 in 1946—about the same price as the Super Clipper. Against Cadillac’s $3,100 Sixty Special, which came only as a four-door sedan, Packard offered the all-out-luxury Custom Super Clipper sedan or coupe for about the same money, albeit on a slightly shorter wheelbase. While it’s true that the 1946-47 Sixty-two and Sixty Special outsold the Super and Custom Clipper by three to one, contrary to common impression, that was something that Packard could have done something about.This is a new point which has been missed in the many postmortems of Packard’s fall: that reverting to the status of a producer strictly luxury cars would not have meant downsizing the labor force or contracting the facilities. The market for anything on wheels was bottomless; it didn’t matter whether the car cost $1,800 (Clipper Eight). $2,300 (Clipper Super) or $2,900 (Custom Super). It would have sold. Nor is this a hindsight judgment, since Packard management was capable of seeing this at the time. At the start of postwar car production, Fortune recorded a consensus that “there now exists a market for from 12 to 14 million cars,” and that was in a day when three million or so cars was considered a very good year. “In 1941,” Fortune continued, “The 32 million American families owned 29,600,000 cars . . . As 1946 began, the cars were down to 22 million which is not very far from the danger point (18 million) of a transportation breakdown . . . of this remaining total, at least half are in their last days.” It didn’t take a mystic to comprehend these facts, as the late Hickman Price , Jr., who bought Willow Run for the Kaiser-Frazer partners, once said: “I believed we would have a period of three or four years—I remember putting 1950 as the terminal date in which we can sell everything we can make.” Almost immediately after production got rolling in 1945, chief stylist John Reinhart was told, much against his judgment, to update the Clipper. If Dutch Darrin had thought Packard loaded “gobs of clay” onto his original model in 1941, what must he have thought of the 1948 models? Furthermore, there was no change in market orientation, still rooted firmly in the medium price field. Indeed in 1948, the final year for President George Christopher, senior Packard production dwindled from 30 percent to 11 percent of total production, training Cadillac by tens of thousands. Packards, as a later president, James Nance, stated, “just handed the luxury car market to Cadillac on a silver platter.”Professional designers have contemplated continuations of the Clipper into 1948-49, with a broader range of body styles including hardtops and convertibles. Their designs were beautiful and would have kept pace with the all-new Cadillacs and Lincolns of 1949, allowing Packard to come back with its first postwar redesign in 1950. But this is the lesser point: the key failure was to reorder the corporation’s priorities and establish it once again as the American luxury car it had been so successfully for forty years.Hindsight does suggest that Packard lost its battle for survival at this point, although it wouldn’t be evident immediately. Since the company couldn’t achieve high volume, it would have been more logical to maximize the profit from each car it could build. Not only were customers standing in line, but by putting top-of-the-line Packards on the road, the public’s image of Packard as a luxury car builder would have been enhanced. Worse still, the 1948 facelift lost the design continuum the Clipper had so brilliantly offered. These elegant and inimitable lines dating back to the early years of the century, so laboriously maintained by countless Packard designers over the years, almost instantly departed. Though it retained the Clipper’s basic shell, the 1948 model bore no resemblance to its predecessor. Although it was as brilliantly engineered and was as fine a performer as before, the latest Clipper no longer looked the part of a luxury Packard. The bulbous “up-side-down bathtubs” owed nothing to modernity and never gained much popularity. Market share suffered at a time when Packard should have, and could have become the luxury car leader again. They could have been ahead of the styling curve, not behind it. If the release of the Clipper had been saved until after the war, and if it would have been in a style closer to the one Howard “Dutch” Darrin proposed for the styling team in 1940, Packard would have been in a position of styling leadership and the 1948 “pregnant elephant” Packards could have resembled the “high-line” style released in 1951. The designs of the ’51 cars were on the drawing boards shortly after the war, but instead, Packard management settled for facelifts.The money spent on the facelifts, John Reinhart and many others always maintained should have gone into an expansion of Clipper body styles to compete with Cadillac. Packard recognized this too late when it brought out a convertible as the first ’48 body style—a model it should have had by 1947 at the latest. Eighteen months later Cadillac was already out with the glamorous Coupe de Ville hardtop, while Packard’s newest model was . . . the Station Sedan. It was already apparent to some advanced thinkers in 1948 that the future of the car business belonged to the giants. But the strategy would have placed Packard in a much stronger position for a successful merger around 1950-51. At least one independent manufacturer was ready to make that happen. His name was George Mason, President of Nash-Kelvinator. Mason wanted a postwar combination of independents, a fourth player in an automotive Big Four, with Packard as the luxury division. But that is another story—another chapter in the sad decline of what Don Vorderman has called “the car we couldn’t afford to lose.”
By the end of the thirties, Packard president Max M. Gilman realized that his best efforts to improve profitability during the last lean decade had not been enough. The One Twenty had arrived in the nick of time in 1935 to save the company from immediate demise; the One Ten had followed, achieving even higher volume. But despite a strong performance in revival year 1937, Packard sales had plummeted as the depression returned in 1938, and the 76,000 sales for the calendar year 1939 were hardly past the break-even point. To be precise, they netted the company a scant half million dollars. Combine this precarious financial state with the new model developments among Packard’s rivals, we can see why Gilman needed something radically new, and that he needed it in a hurry.Introduced a scant eight months before Pearl Harbor, Packard’s hopes for the future rode on a sleek new car design. The Packard Clipper represented an almost total break from traditionally styling and embodied an abrupt change in construction techniques. But with the falling of that first bomb over our Pacific fleet, the fate of the radically new Clipper was irrevocably altered. Instead of a fresh new interpretation of traditional Packard styling—the basis for a plethora of new luxury body styles—it was cut off from the showrooms by World War II. By the time it returned, management was too busy thinking about a quick facelift to consider that they had in the Clipper the key to regaining Packard’s luxury image. The investment to produce the only all-new 1941 American car had been squandered; it led only to a compounding of earlier mistakes: a postwar round of non-luxury Packards which in the end proved fatal to the Packard Motor Car Company.The Clipper’s historical importance lies in its timing and the result that timing had on subsequent decisions which so crucially affected Packard’s later years. In these events, we can see that the Clipper represented a continuum: Packard’s timeless styling hallmarks combined with the modern envelope body was as effective a mating of the old and the new as anyone could point to in American automobile history. Management abandoned that continuum in a decision that almost immediately affected the Packard image, inflicting a wound that would prove terminal by the mid-Fifties. Yet its decision was not at all extraordinary or unexpected at the time.
BAD TIMING
Unfortunately for Packard, the Clipper’s timing couldn’t have been worse. After only 16,600 of the ‘41’s were made, and a few thousand ‘42’s, Detroit stopped building civilian automobiles to concentrate on defense production. By the time cars began rolling off the lines again in late 1945, the Clipper was no different from other old-had models offered by the rest of the industry. The bright promise of its debut was limited by late introduction; what should have been its solid sophomore year was nipped in the bud by World War II. Its third and fourth years were postponed until 1946-47 when they served only as reminders that the Clipper was out of date.There was just one other auto maker that introduced all-new 1941 models which were stopped short by the American entry into World War II and thus rendered obsolete before their time. Other than Packard, only Ford brought out a much changed design for the 1941 model year--the restyled Ford and its Mercury clone. No other manufacturers introduced new 1941 models. General Motors redesigned for 1942, arguably a piece of bad timing even worse than Packard’s, but the ‘42’s were so few in number that they still looked new when GM resumed automotive production in 1946. The Ford/Mercury comparison is not apt either, primarily because these were quite different cars from Packards, with no pretense of luxury. Nor did their design history mirror the Clipper’s. The 1941 Fords and Mercurys were evolutionary developments, clearly related to the ‘40’s they replaced. The Clipper was such a dramatic break with previous Packard design as to preclude comparisons.After the war, while Packard opted to facelift the Clipper (1948), Ford chose a total restyle for Ford and Mercury in 1949. And, while the bulbous 1941-48 Fords and Mercs were replaced by superior modern designs, the elegant Clipper was replaced by a bulbous facelift that owed nothing to modernity. It is not entirely coincidental that a 1949 Mercury Eight which had cost $2,000 new was still worth $430 five years later, while a 1949 Packard Eight which had cost $2,200 new was worth only $375.So the Clipper’s timing was unique. The state of the world being beyond Packard’s control, Clipper production came to a halt in February 1942, just as it was hitting its stride—just as Clipper styling had permeated virtually the entire line. It left a void that Packard failed to fill; a promise Packard failed to keep; a continuum Packard disdained and discarded.
STYLE IDENTITY
A full envelope body of genuinely modern mien was a long time coming at the Packard Motor Car Company. Cadillac was wearing pontoon fenders and flowing lines by 1934 and had adopted all-steel bodies by 1935. In 1936, Lincoln announced the Zephyr, with a radical all steel unit-body and a shape so advanced that derivations of it were still in production twelve years later. By comparison Packard had been incredibly conservative. Its main acknowledgement of new-era styling was the skirted fender which appeared in 1933. Packard, like Lincoln and Cadillac, had survived the Depression by building medium-priced cars: the One Twenty, Zephyr and LaSalle, respectively. But unlike its rivals, Packard styling had remained arch-traditional. Unlike Lincoln, Packard followed its medium-priced One Twenty with an almost-low-priced car, the Six (later briefly known as the One Ten). Unlike Cadillac, Packard refused to market its cheaper models by a different name and remained wedded to them long after prosperity had returned. By 1941, the year the Clipper debuted, the cheapest Cadillac cost $1,445; the cheapest Packard sold for only $927.Arguably its conservative design philosophy had stood Packard well in the years leading up to the Clipper. The company was able to advertise—and sold quite a few Packards with—styling continuity from year to year. There was a family resemblance between a ’39, say, and a ’32. In 1939 comparison of its One Twenty with the LaSalle, the company declared that: “Packard has style identity…Packard styling is consistent..But look ant the 1938 LaSalle! About the only similarity is in the name, and who can be sure that a sudden fanciful style change won’t make the 1939 a style orphan?”That was a good argument and still is. Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royce survived for years with very expensive obsolete designs. Packard also survived with limited styling change for at least eight or nine years up through 1940. What’s more, Packard hallmarks were very good ones: the chiseled frontispiece; the grille recalling classic Greek architecture; the ox-yoke radiator/bonnet shape that harked back to the noble Model L of 1904. What’s more, the pelican mascot, red hexagon hubs and arrowhead side-spear were a combination at least as recognizable and timeless as the stand-up hood ornament and meshwork grille of Mercedes-Benz. Together, these consistent hallmarks unmistakably said “Packard” to school children and bankers alike and had been the adornments of the chosen transport of moneyed America since Packard’s Boss of the Road Six and Twin Six of the Teens and early Twenties.To create a modern envelope body while retaining those famous hallmarks was no small undertaking. It is still one of the chief accomplishments of automotive industrial design that the people who created the Packard Clipper were able to do so almost flawlessly. When advertising invited America to “Skipper the Clipper” in 1941. It was showing the country an obviously brand-new, up-to-date, “speed-stream” automobile, yet one that was undeniably a Packard. Though it didn’t owe a curve or contour to any previous model, the Clipper carried the same inimitable radiator and hood shape, the same arrowheads and red hexes, the same long hood and close-coupled profile of great Packards of the past. The smooth styling transition was a stroke of genius.
GENESIS OF A GREAT DESIGN
Writing in The Classic Car and The Packard Cormorant, Joel Prescott published an account of the Clipper design which considerably revised the picture offered by George Hamlin and Dwight Heinmuller in Packard: A History of the Motor Car and The Company, published by Automotive Quarterly. The Cormorant has also published excerpts of James A. Ward’s book on the decline of the Packard Motor Car Company. The testimony of such designers as Howard Darrin, John Reinhart, William Reithard and Alex Tremulis is on the record. What can be added to the story of the Clipper’s bittersweet production is the Clipper’s place in Packard history.Prior to World War II, Packard never had a styling department. Indeed, few auto companies did. It was Harley Earl’s formidable Art & Colour Section at General Motors that convinced the industry of the importance of styling. But even Earl’s efforts didn’t force rivals to add design departments until after the war. A handful of outside consultants, like Raymond Loewy at Studebaker, occasionally sold their designs to American producers. Sometimes the designs even reached production without drastic changes by the body engineers who then largely controlled the shape of cars. One such design consultant was a Californian named Howard “Dutch” Darrin. His involvement in the Clipper occurred because his favorite American make was Packard.Dutch was born a promoter, and when he was alive, his claim to the Clipper was never challenged, primarily because he was the loudest exponent of it and would drown out any rival by sheer verbiage. Enough is known now to realize that the Clipper wasn’t entirely Dutch’s work. But its story must start with Darrin because without him it probably would not have looked as it did. If he was not its sole designer, then he certainly inspired it.After returning to America in 1937 following a successful career as a Paris coachbuilder in league with such names a Fernandez and Hibbard, Darrin looked around for chassis on which to practice his automotive art. He said, “I concentrated on Packards knowing that by lowering the radiator I could make a very beautiful custom-bodied Packard with little change in its basic structure.” The result was a long skein of dramatic Packard-Darrins, which were actually catalogued be the company at one point and which led to Dutch’s role in the Clipper. “Around 1940, Packard called and asked if I’d design a new standard line car for them. The hitch was that I had only ten days to do so. Chief stylist Ed Macauley (actually vice-president for design) would be on the coast for that amount of time, and if I didn’t have anything before he left, it would be a lost cause. The company offered me a thousand a day if I could meet the deadline.”Confident in his ability to put a thousand a day to good use, Dutch casually said he thought he “could establish enough lines for a full- and quarter-scale model.” Later he said that to meet the deadline, he “slept several nights on a drafting table, “ yet Packard never paid him.That is the gospel according to the late Dutch. What seems sure is that he did in fact deliver a quarter-scale clay model to Ed Macauley, who brought it back to Detroit and showed it to his in-house team, and also to Briggs. Darrin’s claim to the Clipper was subsequently supported by the late Alex Tremulis. Tremulis recalled his first encounter with the Clipper prototype at Briggs, Packard’s coachbuilder from 1941, where the Clipper was finalized for production. One glance had convinced him, Tremulis wrote, that this model had “all the fingerprints” of Darrin: “There was the downward swept beltline and the inimitable Darrin blind quarter, with a Darrinized notchback roof flowing into a beautifully swept rear luggage compartment. It had a front fender flow with the characteristic Darrin angle.” The door hinges were concealed and the archaic running boards had disappeared.Darrin’s claim of authorship went largely unchallenged until 1991, when Joel Prescott published his revealing interview with William Reithard, model maker hired by Packard’s Werner Gubitz in 1940. Gubitz had handled in-house styling for Packard for years and did marvelous work within the limits imposed by the company’s conservatism. What input, Prescott asked, did Packard get from Dutch? Reithard’s reply would change Packard history as we had known it: “My first meeting with Darrin was when he was brought into the Styling Section at Packard to present his concept for the Clipper. The arrangement had been made with top management and was not popular with Styling. Bud Hall (a clay model builder) and I were assigned to the project and spent several weeks with Dutch. He turned to be a delightful personality, very enthusiastic and friendly. As we worked, we were regaled with stories about his exploits in Paris.We did our best to help him out. But the model we did was discarded. There just wasn’t any interest in it. We never got any drawings from Dutch. We just worked on a (clay) buck. He wasn’t the kind who really sat down and designed, you know. . . In my opinion, Dutch was not a great designer. He did have a good feeling for form and a good sense of proportion, but he was not a careful detailer. He was a terrific salesman, though. You know, when he and Thomas Hibbard were together over in Paris, Hibbard was responsible for the design work and Dutch was the salesman.”This is a casebook description of another styling salesman who knew good lines when he saw them: Raymond Loewy. Two longtime Darrin rivals also had made similar remarks. Designer Brooks Stevens once said, “Dutch never designed anything—he just gesticulated with a clay tool.” Meanwhile, Kaiser-Frazer stylist Bob Robillard recalled finding Darrin’s model of the 1951 Kaiser “with a clay tool imbedded to the hilt in its hood: you could have entitled that scene ‘frustration.’” The real talent behind the Clipper, Reithard went on, “lay right within the design group that Gubitz had. Howard Yeager was the man, as far as I’m concerned, who was responsible for the Clipper. Phil Wright (on loan from Briggs) was there, Bud Hall and, of course, there was Johnny Reinhart (later chief Packard stylist, responsible for the 1948-54 bodies). Shortly after I arrived they also hired Art Fitzpatrick, a terrific renderer.” As Robillard remembers:“My first assignment was to work on a twelfth-size model that was actually derived from a Buick design, with a Packard front end on it. The Clipper design later emerged from that model. As I said, it was primarily Howard Yeager’s work, other supplied various details. In fact, I myself later worked on the Clipper instrument panel.”Robillard admitted that Darrin had held onto his claim as originator of the Clipper almost from the start. He still has copies of a 1946 Darrin paper delivered before the Society of Automotive Engineers, “Does Styling Control the Design of Cars?” In it Darrin states that he widened the Clipper body because the continuous fender-line, which comes right through the door past the A-pillar, required more width for the proper hinging of the door, “the net result being a wider and more roomy car.” Reithard disagrees. Before Darrin arrived, he remembered, “the parameters for track, wheelbase and overall length had been established. Other than that we had very little to go on except some very rough sketches and hand-waving from Dutch.”But a quarter century later in Automobile Quarterly, Dutch was still repeating his 1946 claims, which were not challenged at the time. As Darrin stated: “Packard introduced the Clipper with a series of ads entitled, ‘A Star is Born,’” which he considered inaccurate. “The best compliment they paid me was stating that ‘three international designers’ combined to create the Clipper.” Packard was evidently referring to Darrin. George Walker (another outside consultant) and Briggs, all of whom had contributed to the design. But Darrin typically had his own interpretation: You might construe that to mean that I was the equal of three designers.”While Darrin clearly held himself the central design figure, his view of the final production car was equivocal—and also provides us with clues as to what really happened. Darrin’s original design “called for a sweeping frond fender-line that carried right through the doors to the rise of the rear fender, similar to a custom Clipper I built later for Errol Flynn. But Packard shortened the sweep to fade away at mid-door. This was done as a hedge because no one knew if the through-fender-line would sell.” He said Packard Styling also “vandalized the design by throwing on huge gobs of clay along the wheelbase” creating a flair to the doors to hide the running boards they added for the same reason. Thus by Darrin’s own admission, the Clipper that appeared in production was not entirely his work. That Packard never paid Darrin also suggests that they held him less than fully responsible. And no designer besides Dutch ever believed this splendid car was the product of ten days’ work.The question of how much influence Darrin had therefore boils down to whether we accept Reithard’s remembrance that his model was discarded. Even if this was the case (and we have no reason to doubt it), automotive design is a group sport. There is no telling, so many years removed, the degree of Darrin’s influence over Howard Yeager, Werner Gubitz, Phil Wright or George Walker. One can only surmise. But based on Alex Tremulis’ recollections, we might well grant Dutch a degree of credit. The lines of the Clipper definitely recall certain Darrin themes which Tremulis with his professional eye recognized. The elegant curves and the long hood, the sweep of the fender (whether or not it swept all the way back) and the sheer presence of the car relate to the Darrin Packards. If Dutch’s pen didn’t create those lines, his ideas almost certainly influenced them.Perhaps the best summation of the Clipper’s design comes from Joel Prescott: “The truth may well be that the Clipper should be remembered as automotive history’s most successful committee design, because assigning the genius of its beautiful lines exclusively to one particular designer cannot now be done with any degree of certainty.” And as it turned out, this new “look” guaranteed the Clipper an appearance never compromised by competitive imitators. In 1942 Cadillac and Buick adopted the same pontoon fender line, but the Clipper still looked unique and, with its new long-wheelbase ’42 seniors.
ENGINEERING AND EVOLUTION
When considering the great transitional designs that brought us from the art deco and speed-lining age of the Thirties into the envelope bodies of the Forties, much is always made of Bill Mitchell’s famous Cadillac Sixty Special. In particular, its thin window frames, squared-off roof, wider-than-high grille, and concealed running boards were bold steps forward. The Clipper had at least as many pioneering features in an even more integrated package. The original 1941 Clipper rode the senior wheelbase of 127 inches and used the One Twenty’s 282-cubic-inch straight eight, but produced 125 bhp (five more than the One Twenty). Despite the familiar engine, few Clipper parts were interchangeable with other models. The chassis was entirely new: a double-drop frame allowed a lower floor without reducing road clearance. The engine was mounted well forward and the rear shocks were angled to assist the traditional Packard fifth shock in controlling side-sway. The front suspension was entirely new, since the lower frame eliminated the need for Packard’s traditional long torque arms. A double-link connection between the Pitman arm and steering brackets, with a cross bar and idler arm and two cross tubes, controlled wheel movement. The 1941 Clipper was the widest production car in the industry and first to be wider than it was tall—a foot wider to be exact. The body from cowl to deck was a single piece of steel—largest in the industry, and the floor pan had only one welded seam from end to end. Single pieces of sheet metal comprised the rear quarters and hood. The hood could be lifted from either side of the car or removed entirely by throwing two levers. Instead of the traditional third side window, ventipanes were incorporated in the rear doors, providing wonderfully controllable flow-through ventilation. The battery made its first move from under the seat to under the hood, where it stayed warmer and was more accessible. There was a “Ventalarm” whistle to warn when the tank was within a gallon of being full, and an accelerator-activated starter button, so the act of starting simultaneously set the automatic choke. Reithard’s beautiful symmetrical dashboard contained a full ration of instruments, including an electric oil pressure gauge adapted from the One Sixty. Options included Packard’s Electromatic clutch, “Econo-drive” (Borg-Warner overdrive), an effective auxiliary under-seat heater, leather upholstery, full fender skirts, and one of the first air conditioning units in the industry costing only $275. Introduced in April of 1941 as a single four-door sedan model, the Clipper was by no means a cheap or even medium-priced car. It sold for around $1,400, in a market niche between the One Twenty and One Sixty, competing with the Cadillac Sixty-One, Lincoln Zephyr, Buick Roadmaster and Chrysler New Yorker. Despite a late start, it garnered 16,600 model year sales, almost as many as the One Twenty. Clearly, for Packard, it was the wave of the future. By the 1942 model year, Clipper styling had permeated every Packard in the line, except where special tooling existed—convertibles, taxis, wagons and commercial cars. Curiously, however, the market slot occupied by the ’41 Clipper was abandoned, recreating a gap between the Clipper One Twenty Custom ($1.341) and the Clipper One Sixty ($1,688).The bulk of the 1942 production was concentrated on the 120-inch wheelbase junior models, but the One Sixty and One Eighty Clippers proved conclusively that Packard was as much a builder of luxury cars as ever. The 1942 One Sixty sedan, for example, was 9.5 inches longer and 140 pounds heaver than its square-rigged 1941 predecessor. The One Eighty was wider, almost as long, with more interior width and almost as much legroom as the long-wheel-base 1942 One Eighty, which still used the old-style Packard bodywork.The silky smooth 356-cubic inch straight eight of the One Sixty and One Eighty Clippers, with its 105-pound, seven-main-bearing crankshaft, was the mightiest engine in the industry through 1947, exceeding Cadillac’s V-8 by 15 horsepower. Although not designed primarily for performance, its power delivery has been compared by some drivers to a late model steam locomotive: smooth, refined and extremely powerful. It could deliver 80 mph in second gear and circulate the huge Packard Proving Grounds banked oval track at 110 mph—marvelous for a 4,000-pound luxury car in 1942. Its prodigious torque would allow it to walk away from a dead stop . . . in third gear. . . up hill. You could (and Packard did) balance a nickel on the head with the engine idling.The top of the line Clipper One Eighty offered two shades of leather or six colors of wool broadcloth upholstery, Mosstred carpeting from New York’s Shulton Looms, walnut grained instrument panels, amboyna burl garnish moldings, seatbacks stuffed with down and rear center armrests. Unlike any other contemporary, the post war Custom Super’s headliner was seamed fore to aft instead of sideways. Packard claimed that the unique headliner was adopted “to provide a more spacious feel to the interior.” That these superb luxury cars were built for the classes and not the masses is attested by the Classic Car Club of America, which granted “Classic” status to the 1946-47 Custom Super Clipper, one of the few postwar cars so recognized. With a nearly-full line of Clippers, Packard managed to build 34,000 1942 models before production ceased in February (an annual rate of around 80,000). According to the late John Reinhart, there is no doubt that Clipper styling would have proliferated in 1943-45. “The next logical step would have been convertibles and commercials—and a wagon.” But the war intervened. Whereas Cadillac with its greater facilities was able to field a complete line of restyled ‘42’s including convertibles, all of which came right back in 1946, Packard was able only to add a club coupe body before the war.The club coupe was a magnificent looking car—the sportiest and rarest Clipper destined to be built. Only about 40 are thought to have been built before production closed down in 1942; a single One Sixty is the only example known to exist. Postwar, scarcely 600 senior coupes came off the production lines, compared to about 6,600 senior sedans as Packard emphasized the more popular four-door body style.In 1946-47 the numerical designations were dropped and the line consisted of Clipper Sixes and Eights on the 120-inch wheelbase and Supers and Custom Supers on the 127-inch wheelbase. For the first time there were now seven-passenger sedans and limousines, riding a 148-inch wheelbase. For their type, these “professional Packards” enjoyed excellent success. They compare favorably with Cadillac’s 1946-47 Seventy-five, beating it not only be 15 horsepower but by a foot of wheelbase, yet selling for about the same $4,500-$5,000. Counting several thousand bare chassis supplied to commercial body manufacturers, the Seventy-five outsold the long wheelbase Clipper; but for finished cars from the factory, production was dead even: about 3,100 cars each for 1946-47 combined.
CONTINUUM LOST
Many economic experts predicted that the end of World War II would bring a severe recession or perhaps even another depression to the United States. They had history of their side because the U.S. did experience a sharp, albeit brief economic downturn after World War I. Perhaps Packard’s management team took these calamitous warnings to heart while planning its postwar strategy. Obviously, if the economy were to take a tumble, it would make sense to push the low-priced Packards—the Clipper Sixes and Eights—rather than the up-market Supers and Custom Supers. The postwar economy, of course, proved the experts wrong. It was healthy—so healthy in fact that many materials, notably sheet steel, were in short supply. Workers, wanting their piece of the pie, demanded more money, and so the automakers and their suppliers endured a series of strikes. These factors, of course, strangled production. At the same time, Americans had money jingling in their pockets, and they were willing to spend freely to acquire most anything—especially new cars. Price, it seemed, hardly mattered. Packard thus found itself in a dilemma, whether or not it realized it. On the one hand, the firm couldn’t even begin to produce cars in the numbers it had intended. On the other, the cars it did turn out were mainly the less profitable junior-series models.Unfortunately as it proved, Packard management’s chief interest after the war was in the same medium-priced cars that had saved it in the Depression, the Six and junior Eights. The company was still firmly run by President George Christopher, who had helped save it with the One Twenty, and whose most famous remark refers to the luxury Packards as “g..d..m senior stuff.” Christopher had junior Clippers in production by October 1945, but it wasn’t until June 1946 that the first Custom Super came down the line. Total Packard production in the first two postwar model years was 82,000, against 91,000 Cadillacs. The difference was that the vast bulk of Packard production was of Clipper Sixes and Eights priced $1,700-2,200. The Cadillacs (except for the fast-diminishing Sixty-one) began around $2,300. Quite obviously, Packard could have built, and sold, almost as many senior Clippers as Cadillac sold Sixty-two’s and Sixty Specials, had Christopher and his team chosen to do so.Clearly, the long-wheelbase Clippers were competitive with the Cadillac and the low-volume Chrysler Crown Imperial (Lincoln had no long models) in the first two postwar years. Likewise, among owner-driver models, Packard had Cadillac neatly bracketed. The Cadillac Sixty-two sedan and coupe started around $2.300 in 1946—about the same price as the Super Clipper. Against Cadillac’s $3,100 Sixty Special, which came only as a four-door sedan, Packard offered the all-out-luxury Custom Super Clipper sedan or coupe for about the same money, albeit on a slightly shorter wheelbase. While it’s true that the 1946-47 Sixty-two and Sixty Special outsold the Super and Custom Clipper by three to one, contrary to common impression, that was something that Packard could have done something about.This is a new point which has been missed in the many postmortems of Packard’s fall: that reverting to the status of a producer strictly luxury cars would not have meant downsizing the labor force or contracting the facilities. The market for anything on wheels was bottomless; it didn’t matter whether the car cost $1,800 (Clipper Eight). $2,300 (Clipper Super) or $2,900 (Custom Super). It would have sold. Nor is this a hindsight judgment, since Packard management was capable of seeing this at the time. At the start of postwar car production, Fortune recorded a consensus that “there now exists a market for from 12 to 14 million cars,” and that was in a day when three million or so cars was considered a very good year. “In 1941,” Fortune continued, “The 32 million American families owned 29,600,000 cars . . . As 1946 began, the cars were down to 22 million which is not very far from the danger point (18 million) of a transportation breakdown . . . of this remaining total, at least half are in their last days.” It didn’t take a mystic to comprehend these facts, as the late Hickman Price , Jr., who bought Willow Run for the Kaiser-Frazer partners, once said: “I believed we would have a period of three or four years—I remember putting 1950 as the terminal date in which we can sell everything we can make.” Almost immediately after production got rolling in 1945, chief stylist John Reinhart was told, much against his judgment, to update the Clipper. If Dutch Darrin had thought Packard loaded “gobs of clay” onto his original model in 1941, what must he have thought of the 1948 models? Furthermore, there was no change in market orientation, still rooted firmly in the medium price field. Indeed in 1948, the final year for President George Christopher, senior Packard production dwindled from 30 percent to 11 percent of total production, training Cadillac by tens of thousands. Packards, as a later president, James Nance, stated, “just handed the luxury car market to Cadillac on a silver platter.”Professional designers have contemplated continuations of the Clipper into 1948-49, with a broader range of body styles including hardtops and convertibles. Their designs were beautiful and would have kept pace with the all-new Cadillacs and Lincolns of 1949, allowing Packard to come back with its first postwar redesign in 1950. But this is the lesser point: the key failure was to reorder the corporation’s priorities and establish it once again as the American luxury car it had been so successfully for forty years.Hindsight does suggest that Packard lost its battle for survival at this point, although it wouldn’t be evident immediately. Since the company couldn’t achieve high volume, it would have been more logical to maximize the profit from each car it could build. Not only were customers standing in line, but by putting top-of-the-line Packards on the road, the public’s image of Packard as a luxury car builder would have been enhanced. Worse still, the 1948 facelift lost the design continuum the Clipper had so brilliantly offered. These elegant and inimitable lines dating back to the early years of the century, so laboriously maintained by countless Packard designers over the years, almost instantly departed. Though it retained the Clipper’s basic shell, the 1948 model bore no resemblance to its predecessor. Although it was as brilliantly engineered and was as fine a performer as before, the latest Clipper no longer looked the part of a luxury Packard. The bulbous “up-side-down bathtubs” owed nothing to modernity and never gained much popularity. Market share suffered at a time when Packard should have, and could have become the luxury car leader again. They could have been ahead of the styling curve, not behind it. If the release of the Clipper had been saved until after the war, and if it would have been in a style closer to the one Howard “Dutch” Darrin proposed for the styling team in 1940, Packard would have been in a position of styling leadership and the 1948 “pregnant elephant” Packards could have resembled the “high-line” style released in 1951. The designs of the ’51 cars were on the drawing boards shortly after the war, but instead, Packard management settled for facelifts.The money spent on the facelifts, John Reinhart and many others always maintained should have gone into an expansion of Clipper body styles to compete with Cadillac. Packard recognized this too late when it brought out a convertible as the first ’48 body style—a model it should have had by 1947 at the latest. Eighteen months later Cadillac was already out with the glamorous Coupe de Ville hardtop, while Packard’s newest model was . . . the Station Sedan. It was already apparent to some advanced thinkers in 1948 that the future of the car business belonged to the giants. But the strategy would have placed Packard in a much stronger position for a successful merger around 1950-51. At least one independent manufacturer was ready to make that happen. His name was George Mason, President of Nash-Kelvinator. Mason wanted a postwar combination of independents, a fourth player in an automotive Big Four, with Packard as the luxury division. But that is another story—another chapter in the sad decline of what Don Vorderman has called “the car we couldn’t afford to lose.”
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
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