1965 Ford 250 Good Humor Ice Cream Truck - More Than Just An Ice Cream Truck

The rhythmic tinkling of the bells on Good Humor ice cream trucks was as much a part of growing up on Long Island as the quacking of the ducks in the park next to my house. Growing up in Nassau County, just a stone's throw from Kennedy Airport, whenever one of those trucks turned onto Overlook Place it was about as Norman Rockwellian as my life ever got. The ice cream was pretty good, too.

In my mind's eye, the Good Humor trucks that pulled onto my block looked exactly like this one. Everything from the dashboard forward—and everything underneath—was essentially a 1965 Ford F-250. It was, of course, that massive freezer out back, with its mini vault-like doors that opened and closed with wonderful solidity, that made a Good Humor truck a Good Humor truck.

Good Humor was founded by candy maker Harry Burt in Youngstown, Ohio, in 1920. Burt's first successful invention was the "Jolly Boy Sucker," a lollipop on a stick. While experimenting in his ice cream parlor, he developed a chocolate coating that would adhere to ice cream without cracking or sliding off. His daughter, Ruth, reportedly thought it tasted wonderful but was messy to eat. It was his son, Harry Jr., who suggested inserting the same wooden sticks used in the Jolly Boy Suckers into the ice cream to serve as handles. Burt called his new creation the Good Humor Bar, a name inspired by the then-common belief that a person's mood—or "humor"—was influenced by what they ate.

In the beginning, Good Humor bars were sold from white wagons by door-to-door salesmen dressed in crisp white uniforms. The uniforms were intended to convey cleanliness, professionalism and safety, helping build trust in neighborhoods where the company was introducing a completely new product.

With the advent of refrigerated delivery trucks, Good Humor transitioned to the porcelain-white trucks that became synonymous with the brand. In 1930, Burt sold a controlling interest in the company to M.J. Meehan, who rapidly expanded Good Humor's distribution. By the mid-1930s, Good Humor bars were being sold throughout much of the United States.

Most of the Good Humor trucks I remember were heavy-duty Ford or Chevrolet pickups fitted with insulated bodies built by Hackney Brothers Body Company of Washington, North Carolina.

The refrigeration systems were plug-in "cold plate" freezers. Overnight, the trucks would be connected to 220-volt power, allowing the cold plates to freeze to temperatures well below zero. During the day, those plates kept the ice cream frozen without the need for a continuously running refrigeration unit. Depending on outside temperatures and how often the freezer doors were opened, the system could typically keep the ice cream frozen for several days before needing to be plugged in again. As a safety precaution, many Good Humor trucks omitted the driver's-side door so drivers would always exit curbside rather than into traffic.

By the way, I don't recall Good Humor drivers dressed in uniforms like this. By the time I was a kid, they were usually young guys with long hair, T-shirts and cutoffs. It was a far cry from the wholesome, middle-American image Good Humor cultivated in the 1940s and '50s, but it worked well enough for me.

In 1961, the Meehan family sold Good Humor to the Thomas J. Lipton Company, Unilever's U.S. subsidiary. In 1976, Lipton discontinued what it called "direct selling" and shifted its focus to selling Good Humor products through supermarkets and convenience stores. Many local fleets of Good Humor trucks were sold to independent ice cream distributors, who simply repainted them and replaced the familiar Good Humor logos with their own.

That explains why, in the late '70s, I'd still see trucks that looked exactly like Good Humor trucks cruising neighborhoods selling what could best be described as generic ice cream. While buying Good Humor bars at the supermarket was certainly more convenient than waiting for the truck to come down the block, I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that in 1976, Lipton phased out far more than just a fleet of ice cream trucks. It quietly brought an end to one of the great rites of the American summer.

1956 Continental Mark II - Exception to the Rule

I'm not a fan off too many cars from the '50's, 1956 and 1957 Continental Mark II's, which were made by the Ford Motor Company, are rare exceptions. This one is a 1956. 

 

I find it amazing how designers at Ford went from what they had been doing previously for Lincoln to these cars. What they replaced these with come 1958 as well. These cars are an aberration. 

This isn't a Lincoln Continental but rather a "Continental Mark II". Although sold in Lincoln-Mercury showrooms, in 1956 and 1957, "Continental" was a stand-alone division the Ford Motor Company positioned above Lincoln to compete with, supposedly, Rolls Royce. Designed to emulate the Lincoln Continental of 1939-1942 and 1946-48, the 1956 Continental was dubbed "Mark II"; the back story created that the original Continentals were "Mark I's", which they were never referred to as. 

 

Considering the ostentatious chrome and tail fin fest of the mid to late 1950's, the Continental Mark II was remarkably clean. Save for the hump on the trunk, the Mark II was a delicate flower compared to a Cadillac of the same vintage. Lincolns as well. 

 

Same can be said for the spacious, tastefully appointed interior; got to love the color retina searing contrasts here, so '50's. All Mark II's had interiors that were hand stitched
 

 

The simple and elegant dashboard wouldn't look out of place in a BMW of the same vintage. The massive steering wheel a "throw-back" to the not so distant past when even luxury cars didn't have power steering. 



As remarkable as the exterior styling was on these cars, they were unremarkable mechanically. That 368-cubic inch, overhead valve V-8 was an off shoot of the then current Ford Y-block and made just 285-horsepower, that's gross-rated too and not a lot to push around a 5,000-pound car. Automatic transmission was a Lincoln built three-speed they called, "Turbo Drive". Independent front suspension, leaf springs out back on a solid rear axle. Somewhat interestingly, power steering was a recirculating ball unit supplied by General Motors. The brakes were dual-servo hydraulic, internally expanding four-wheel drums; stopping these cars was done by appointment only. 

Single biggest problem with these cars was their $10,000 sticker price, twice what Cadillac charged for a Coupe deVille at the time. No surprise that just 2,550 were sold in 1956, just 444 for 1957, with the high cost of manufacture, Ford lost more than $1,000 on each one they sold. Ford pulled the plug on the "Continental" division after 1957 although they sold "Continental Marks" through 1960. 

 

1982 Lincoln Continental - Baby Got Bustle Back

Of the three inexplicable "Bustle Backs" that debuted in consecutive models years 1980-1982, I've always been of the opinion that Lincoln, if you divorce yourself from attempting to legitimize the design, was the one that got it sort of right. Imagine that, Lincoln doing something right or less wrong during the "Malaise Period". Amazing. Doesn't mean I'd be caught dead in one but between the 1980 Cadillac Seville, quite possibly the ugliest American made car of the last forty years, the 1981 Imperial by Chrysler, which was saved from being even worse off than the Seville only because it was a coupe, the Lincoln was the least homely of a lot of very homely automobiles. Credit that to that little spare tire hump on the back. More on that below.

 

Built on Ford's Fox platform, which also underpinned the 1979 Ford Mustang and 1978 Ford Fairmont amongst other very humble Ford offerings, the 1982 Lincoln Continental was everything luxury car buyers sought after in the early 1980's. Debate-ably glamorous styling inside and out, a prestige brand and the stupefying sticker price that went along with that brand. After all, what's the point of buying a luxury car if you're not going to pay through the nose for it? Let's not even begin to address the fact that there were far better ways to spend $25,000 on a luxury car in 1982 than on a Lincoln.



Not unlike the 1968 Lincoln Continental Mark III and the 1973 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, the "Bustle Backs" were meant to emulate classic car designs of the 1930's. The designs were original enough that it mattered little if you got the gist or not. Subsequently, you could dislike the designs for what they were rather than connect the dots as to what they were trying to be. I for one find it hard to believe that most of the buying public at the time would put two and two together that the Big Three were cribbing from car designs from thirty to forty years prior. Little less caring. Not unlike today; you really think people admire the current Camaro, Mustang and Challenger because they ape lines of their "classic" late '60's to early '70's forebears?

 



Of the three "Bustle Backs", the Lincoln was also the most conventional top to bottom. It was a rear wheel drive sedan powered by the salt of the earth, iron block and head Ford 302 V-8, albeit with a piddling 129 horsepower. Buyers could also delete the V-8 and order a 232 cubic inch V-6, remember the era that we're in - the end of the second gas crisis. In 1984 buyers could also choose a BMW sourced turbo diesel six as well; one of those would be interesting to find. I mention "conventional" since the Cadillac was front wheel drive and after 1980 was later saddled with a series of horrendous Cadillac engines. The Imperial was an over the top wedding cake on wheels that vaporized the minute it drove over the dealership curb. Chrysler sank that ship after 1983 incidentally. The Seville moped on until 1985. Our Continental lasted until 1987.

 



Public reaction to the 1982 Continental's "Bustle Back + Hump" was mixed -  and although I believe the design has aged well, it's still a polarizing one. Same was true of the humpback 1968 Mark III's which were the first post-1956 vintage Continental Mark II Lincolns to feature what could only be described as a far flung styling detail. With regards to the '68 Mark, if it didn't have the hump, it would've just been a Thunderbird - in other words, just another car. Same was true for the '82 Continental; if baby didn't have "Bustle Back", it would've just been another car.

Which brings us all the way back to the introduction of Lincoln's new for 2017 Continental which curiously, not only doesn't have a Bustle Back, it doesn't even have a vestigial spare tire hump or bump. Personally, I think that a mistake since as polarizing as the hump (or bump) was on the 1982 Continental, it was a unique styling element that made the car a most memorable one. While Lincoln's new for 2017 Continental faces many obstacles above and beyond whether or not it has a hump on the trunk, the lack of that styling detail leaves this car looking like just another car. Albeit one that is very, very expensive.

Lincoln LS - The Path To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

When I first became a program director years ago, naively, myself and number of staff members were certain that all that ailed the little radio station we were at was the lack of snappy, fun, upbeat music and a brighter, more contemporary presentation. Much like the 2000 Lincoln LS,  which was a complete departure from the Lincoln Continental that it replaced, I transformed the radio station into something radically different from what it was. In doing so I learned quickly that doing what you believe to be right, hard work and the best of intentions ultimately mean nothing if the results of your efforts fall short of expectations.

The rear wheel drive Lincoln LS was introduced in late 1999 as a new for 2000 model and was as radically different from the Lincoln Continental it ultimately replaced as that Continental was a departure from the car it replaced, the Fox bodied Continental of 1982-1987. Borrowing literally every clichéd luxury car design cue of the time while utilizing the famed Ford DEW98 platform that also underpinned the Jaguar S-Type, at the time Ford owned Jaguar, the Lincoln LS appeared primed for great success. What's more, the car was lauded in the automotive press; Motor Trend even named it "Car of the Year" for model year 2000. The Lincoln LS, much like my work when I first became a program director, was heralded a savior since it appeared to be everything that everyone wanted in a contemporary luxury car. Heralded a savior by well meaning supporters without anything truly tangible to back up that salvation.

Radio station program directors are judged by their radio station's ratings performance so you can imagine my horror when the ratings on the station went down instead of up after I made a myriad of seismic changes. Changes I, again, were certain would garner high ratings. Ratings were so bad that they went down to a level lower than what they had been when the station was under the guise of the person I replaced. At the stern request of my boss, I (reluctantly) sought consultation with programming experts and "righted the ship". At first, ratings returned to a level somewhat higher than they were before I made changes but under my stewardship, save for the occasional ratings wobble up, the station was never able to consistently achieve the ratings success that I was certain it was going to have once I was in charge.

To us "car people", the Lincoln LS certainly appeared to do everything right when it was first introduced. While the styling was clichéd, it was far more contemporary looking than the Continental and, as if this was the most important thing in the world - it featured rear wheel drive. Performance dynamics were splendid and while the sticker price was high, it was somewhat below rival makes and models from Lexus, Infiniti, BMW, Mercedes and Audi. What could go wrong?

Right from the start, the LS had two major problems. First, Lincoln had never had any where near the cache that even Cadillac once had and for them to market any automobile at luxury car buyers and not offer anything supremely different or better than what Lexus and BMW offered, for example, was tantamount to planning to fail. That's why the Lincoln Navigator was so successful, Asia and Europe didn't offer anything like it. Second, as good as the car was, it just wasn't as good as the offerings it was allegedly targeted to compete with. To make matters worse, the car had numerous quality issues. Three strikes, you're out, Lincoln. Despite the best of intentions, Ford pulled the plug on the car after the 2006 model year with just over 250,000 sold. Decent numbers but not nearly what Ford had projected sales to be.

I realized years later that I faced many problems programming that little radio station that were  completely beyond my control. The largest one being that due to the size of the station relative to the market it competed directly against, there was and remains no way to ultimately succeed. One night the person who promoted me into the position, who had long left the station, took me to dinner and over a bottle of wine let me vent my frustrations. My biggest frustration being that no matter what I did nothing seemed to work despite what I believed, and honestly still believe to this day, to be the right thing to do. That old boss, supportive, lovably acerbic and candid as always purred at me between sips of Merlot, "you know what they say...the road to hell is paved with good intentions".