Lincoln Continental Marks - Weren't They Great?

Why do people buy luxury cars? Honestly, they rarely purchase them because they really like the car or because it does something that much better than "lesser" models, lesser models that many of them, not all but many, are based on. Well, to over-state the obvious, luxury cars are are most often bought because, plain and simple...they're status symbols. And, this just in, people like to show off. Back in the 1970's, if you wanted to show off how well you were doing, or wanted to be perceived as doing, you didn't drive a Cadillac, jack. No, sir. You drove a Lincoln Continental Mark. They were big, showy, unforgiving, made no sense and took no prisoners. They were the perfect type of car for people who were seriously into archery too. Today let's take a couple of minutes and look at all of Lincoln's fabulous Continental Mark's from Edsel Ford's European inspired beauty that, although never referred to as a Mark, technically started the whole Mark thing not to mention creating the whole personal-luxury car niche. We'll also take a look at his son's Mark II, Lee Iacocca's division saving "III" and... beyond. C'mon, rosin up that bow and let's go for a ride.

The First Lincoln Continental: Edsel Ford's Dream

In 1922 Edsel Ford's father, Henry Ford, took control of a luxury car company named after President Abraham Lincoln originally founded by former GM executive Henry Leland. Mr. Ford put Edsel, not even thirty-years old at the time, in charge of it. Blessed with artistic intuition and instincts, Edsel began to turn the struggling brand around over seeing production of stylish and luxuriously equipped automobiles that appealed to a more well-heeled clientele than those that sought the far plebeian if somber styling of his father's namesake company. Enamored of the cars he saw on his various trips aboard, in 1938, Edsel commissioned Bob Gregorie, then head of Ford design, to design a car evocative of the ones he'd seen. One with a long hood, short trunk, no running boards and, yes, a spare tire mounted just aft of the trunk lid.

Built on an existing Lincoln Zephyr chassis, what was referred to as a "Lincoln Zephyr Continental" was so well received that Edsel Ford ordered the car into production starting in 1939. This 1940 model of Edsel's is on display in the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. We're not generally fans of pre-war designs but this is a rare exception. And an exceptional one at that.

Although World War II truncated it's production, the Lincoln Continental returned in 1946 albeit considerably modified and, dare we say, less attractive and distinctive than pre-war models. Frankly, we find it hard to believe that Edsel would have approved this clumsy design; he passed away at age forty-nine in 1943. While never a strong seller, Hollywood celebrities and the like were enamored with the Lincoln Continental, especially the pre-war models, and it became a "halo" car for Lincoln. However, due to Ford's precarious post-war fiscal footing, the Continental model was discontinued after model year 1948.

Continental Mark II: William Clay's Ode to his Father

While there was no "Lincoln Continental" between 1949 and 1955, starting in 1956, Ford Motor Company created an entire Continental division. Part of an attempt at the pricing ladder General Motors had offering an automobile for every wallet, Ford put the Continental Division at the top of a pecking order that also included, from most affordable to expensive -  Ford, Mercury, a planned Edsel division, Lincoln and, again, Continental.

The only models the Continental Division produced where these striking two-door sedans positioned and priced to compete not with Cadillac but with the world's finest and most expensive "motor-cars" like Rolls-Royce and Bentley. They were designated "Mark II" with the mindset that Edsel Ford's Continental was the "Mark I", although, to review, they were never called that when in production. The Mark II's were extravagantly styled with "classic" touches evoking not only the "Great Gatsby" era of auto design but the Continental "Mark I"'s long hood, short deck proportions. They also included this "trunk hump" emulating the Mark I's outboard rear spare tire case. The spare tire actually sits behind the trunk lid making, wed'd have to believe, access to the trunk compartment rather challenging. Sidebar - isn't it fascinating that something so innately practical could come to denote class and design sophistication? While mechanically rudimentary, the II's were, in our opinion, very memorable designs. Again, these cars are "Continental's not "Lincoln Continental's".

Not surprisingly given these were priced at more than ten-thousand dollars each, less than three-thousand Mark II's were sold in 1956 and 1957. Losing some one thousand dollars on every one sold, perhaps hastily, Ford dropped the Continental division after 1957. Interestingly, rather than moving the Mark II "down" to Lincoln, it was dropped altogether for 1958 with Ford moving the Continental nameplate to a range-topping Lincoln.

Similar to Chrysler's "letter-car" series where each year of the model's run the car's got a different letter, 1958-1960 Lincoln Continentals were denoted as Mark III, IV and subsequently V. Somewhat mercifully given these '58-'60 Continental's lacked (yeah, yeah, subjective) the graceful lines of the Mark II and are garish compared to even post-war "Mark I's", the "Mark" designation was dropped come 1961 when the Elwood Engel designed Continental debuted.

While these Continental's with their with their famed "suicide-doors" and available convertible top would become the best selling Lincoln model to date at the time, and are arguably as famous as the Continental Mark's to come, they were outsold by Cadillac some years by six to one. That was because, and this is coming from people who were around when these cars were still sort-of-kind-of-new, while certainly different, they lacked Cadillac's curbside firepower. We also thought, yeah, we know, subjective, that they were...weird. Cool? Maybe...sort of...but they were still different in a not-so-cool kinda way. In any event, Ford's Lincoln division was bleeding cash and needed a hit and a hit fast in order to stay afloat. Literally and figuratively.

Lincoln Continental Mark III: Lee Iaccoca Makes his Mark

If any one person can get credit for at least the idea of what would become the 1969 Lincoln Continental Mark III, which, technically should have been "Mark VI", it would be Lee Iaccoca. Riding high off being given almost sole credit for the success of the Ford Mustang, allegedly, it was Iaccoca who first suggested that Lincoln have a personal luxury car based off what would be the 1967 Ford Thunderbird. Mr. Iacocca is on the left behind this 1964 1/2 Mustang. The gentleman to his left is Ford product developer Don Frey. whom many give credit for actually developing the idea of small, sporty, four passenger car. "417" refers to the date the Mustang was launched, April 17, 1964.

Hard to imagine that back in the '60's Lincoln didn't have a coupe but they didn't from 1961 to 1965 and these Continental coupes that debuted in 1966 looked like what they were - two-door versions of the four-door Continental; there was no convertible coupe. What's more, these two-door Continentals, while blissfully eschewing the bizarre-ness of the four door models, lacked the distinctive styling that most "look-at-me" luxury car buyers want. Although sharing nothing externally, you really see a familial resemblance to the Ford Galaxie here; that was not a good thing. 




When initial design models of the what would become the Continental Mark III lacked the elan Iaccoca was looking for, it was he, again, allegedly, who suggested not only a waterfall grill reminiscent of the ones found on a Roll-Royce, but the distinctive "trunk-hump" that was found on the 1956-1957 Continental Mark II. Many within Ford bristled at the design but Henry Ford II, aka, "Hank The Deuce", loved it and ordered it put into production immediately. HFII, incidentally, was Edsel Ford's oldest son and at the time president of the Ford Motor Company.



Introduced in April 1968 as an early '69, while certainly not for everyone, somehow and someway,  the disparate design elements of the Thunderbird based Mark III worked; well, worked that is, if you like the design. Auto critics hated it (the hell do they know anyway) but Lincoln finally had a Cadillac fighter that while certainly not as advanced engineering wise as Cadillac's front-wheel-drive Eldorado, it was deemed far more luxurious. More importantly, the Mark III appealed to buyers willing to spend extra for an automobile that looked prestigious. While being nothing more than a Thunderbird with a fancy body and plusher interior, Ford reportedly made $2,000 on every one sold. The table was then set, good, bad and indifferent, for decades of future Mark's.

Lincoln Continental Mark IV: Bunkie Gets Fired

The more research we do about automobile development the more we're fascinated by the dysfunctional corporate culture prevalent at car companies. We have no reason to doubt that same ego-maniacal madness exists today but back in the late 1960's, the soap opera was far more front, center and out in front of the proverbial curtain. At Ford, the central characters of the Dearborn Soap Opera where "Hank The Deuce", Iacocca and former GM executive Bunkie Knudsen. The clash of Iacocca, a long time Ford executive and Knudsen, whom "The Deuce" brought on from GM as company president in 1968 purportedly to squash Iacocca, the stuff of automotive legend. Apparently, it was Knudsen whom insisted on retooling what was "The Deuce's" favorite car without consulting with him. That sort of thing a prime example of an executive either having too much autonomy or sheer arrogance. By the time Ford fired Knudsen just eighteen months into his tenure, it was too late to stop the production of what was to become (above) the 1972 Lincoln Continental Mark IV.

With smoother lines and larger fender openings, the Mark IV, which was even larger than the Mark III, sold significantly better than the III did. While Lincoln sold on average twenty-five thousand III's a year between 1969 and 1971, they sold more than fifty-thousand "IV's" in 1972 and seventy-thousand in 1973. Even during the height of the first gas crisis in 1973-1974 and through 1976, Lincoln averaged more than fifty-thousand sold each year. While certainly a drop in the bucket compared to top selling makes and models, the IV's, like the III's, were profitable and accounted for more than fifty-percent of Lincoln sales. Above is a 1973 "IV" with its distinctive 1973 only front "safety bumper".

Aside from the addition of the government mandated five-mile per hour safety bumpers Lincoln did little to update the styling of the IV during its five year production run. However, for 1976, the last year of the IV, Lincoln offered color coordinated designer editions with some of the world's most famous fashion designers lending their, we suppose, talent and more importantly their names to the cars.

Like watching reruns today of semi-iconic TV shows like "Fantasy Island", "Love Boat" and others, Lincoln Continental Mark's, in general, are all but impossible to explain to those who weren't around when they came out. Even more so these designer editions; you just had to be there. By the way, I'll take a "Pucci" and the wife will take a "Givenchy".

Lincoln Continental Mark V: Size Matters

Lincoln didn't tout any engineering virtues of its "new" for 1977 Mark V; Ford not having the financial where-with-all in the mid-seventies to justify an all new, and sorely needed, chassis for  the Mark V. The styling revisions, which Lincoln believed significant enough to update the nomenclature, didn't break any new ground either. The most significant styling update of the V was a near aircraft carrier straight  "character" line from the top of the front fenders that stretched to the back edge of the rear quarter panels, allegedly functional louvers on the front fenders behind the wheel openings and a return to upright rear tail lamps.

While the straight character line, in our opinion, made the overall design less distinctive than the III or IV and did nothing if not accentuate the sheer bulk of the V, the return to the same taillight design as the III was a welcome addition as it made the rear of the car less a "Thunderbird with a trunk hump". Can't say we dislike the louvers although it's obvious they were added to breakup the sheer flat expanse of the sheet metal. Must say, even with the oh-my-god-shoot-me-now fake convertible top, this Bill Blass '79 is a fine looking automobile. Again, you had to be there.

Speaking of the Ford Thunderbird, V's were built on the same chassis that underpinned all Mark's up to that time but with Ford switching Thunderbird to their mid-size chassis for 1977, for the first time, a Lincoln Continental Mark and T-Bird weren't just, more or less, trim variations of the same car.

Lincoln also and perhaps wisely so, swiped at General Motors newly downsized full-size models with advertising vernacular for the V like, "Boldly contemporary...yet reassuringly compatible with traditions evolving from the first Continental, the only American luxury car honored for design excellence at the New York Museum of Art." While there was little in common between the design of "Edsel's Continental" and a Mark V, Lincoln had knew exactly what buyers wanted what with Mark V sales going through the proverbial moon roof with more than two-hundred and twenty-five thousand V's sold in just three years. No doubt many of those sales came from disenfranchised GM buyers or buyers that knew that sooner or later Lincoln was going to be downsizing as well. How right those buyers were.

Lincoln Continental Mark VI: Mini-Me

How the heck did Lincoln go from doing something so well to doing something so badly? Did they just get lucky with previous Mark's or did they just get unlucky with the VI? The truth, as with most things, probably lies somewhere in between. Granted, in 1980, Ford had a lot to contend when they rolled out their first truly "all-new" Continental Mark since Iacocca's division saving home run back in the spring of 1968. First, with the relative and almost inexplicable run-a-way sales success of the V, anything following it, especially one having to be in compliance with ever stricter federal emissions and fuel-economy guidelines, would have a tough act to follow. Secondly, and unbeknownst to Ford at the time of course, the country was about to dip (again) into a nasty recession, one with another hike in fuel pries that helped crater new car sales to a nineteen-year low. Charging twenty percent more for a VI than a V didn't do sales any favors either.

However, let's be real. Blame the recession, the second energy crisis and price gouging all you want; the reason Mark VI sales dropped an incredible seventy-three percent year over year was because it a stubby, awkward looking automobile. Year-to-year, Mark VI sales were never half of what V sales were through it's 1980-83 production run. Mark IV sales weren't affected nearly at all by the 1973-74 gas shortage and recession so...it had to have been the actual car, no? In fact, for 1981 and 1982 Mark VI sales were worse than 1980. A slight uptick for 1983 brought the grand total of Mark VI's sold to a piddling 63,662; roughly fifteen thousand less Mark V's than Lincoln sold in 1979 alone.

Seeing the success of that Cadillac had with their down-sized 1979 Eldorado, not to mention their 1975 Seville, downsizing a luxury automobile successfully was possible. While Lincoln marketed the engineering marvel that the VI purportedly was, what was most important to their faithful buyers, its styling, simply, and, yes, pun intended, missed its mark. Which is interesting since you have to imagine that many of the designers whom helped pen the, again, inexplicably successful Mark V, had a hand in the VI. Then again, that was probably part of the problem. For certain, with literally everything to lose, designers no-doubt had their hands tied by anxious Ford executives whom didn't want any chances taken. Design by committee rarely if ever works and the "mini me-Mark V" Mark VI was a prime example of too many cooks in th kitchen. Oh, and for cryin'-out-loud, who thought making a four-door Mark VI was a good idea?

Funny, in a vacuum and through the lens of a spectacle now forty-years older now, the VI is not the worst looking car ever made. Well, from certain angles. Yes, it shamefully apes the design cues of the V and other Marks, the Mark IV and V beholden of the Mark III, but it looks exactly like what it is - a shrunken V. That, in theory, not a bad thing but something got woefully lost in translation. Shrinking what they had was certainly not the recipe Cadillac used for their 1979 Eldorado yet it was every bit the Cadillac the elephantine model it replaced was. Lincoln flunked the down-sizing exam., big time. And at exactly the wrong time too.

Despite being approximately eleven inches shorter and nearly two inches less wide than a V, the VI was still a very big car and a big car with more genuinely usable interior and trunk space too. However, while size mattered to a certain degree with buyers of domestic luxury cars years ago, what they really sought, just like today, were status symbols and the VI looked a whole lot less like a status-symbol like than the V did. If you don't see that now, well, like we've said already, you just had to be there.

In fairness, what was Lincoln to do? It was all but impossible for them to comply with new regulations with a car that weighed five-thousand pounds, had the aerodynamics of a barn and was powered by an engine that used gas like a bon-fire. If today's technology was around in the late '70's would the Big Two and Half simply updated their engines rather than change everything? That's a good question but cars had gotten too big anyways and what with the inevitable onslaught, regardless of the gas shortages and price hikes, of the European and Japanese super cars to come in the '80's, something had to be done.  However, in closing the chapter on the VI, we'd like to think that Lincoln could have done a better job than they did with it. If anything, their loyal customers deserved better.

Lincoln Continental Mark VII: A Party No One Wanted to Go To

Those responsible for the Continental Mark had an even bigger conundrum replacing the Mark VI than they had with replacing the V. What with the VI flaming out as it did, they now had the galvanizing and humbling experience of white-hot, ribald, merciless failure as a motivator. One that clearly was due to design rather than circumstance. Remarkably, refreshingly even, Lincoln did what now appears the obvious thing to do when they downsized the Mark further still for 1984 with the Continental Mark VII.

On paper, seeing how even more god-awful the Fox-body 1980 Ford Thunderbird was than the Mark VI, the VI, incidentally rode on Ford's new-for-1979 "Panther" chassis, the notion of Ford switching the Mark over to the same chassis the Thunderbird was on was a terrible idea. In the flesh, though, while obviously a Lincoln in 1983 aero Thunderbird\Mercury Cougar clothing, the Mark VII, was, to us, a delightful looking design that bespoke of a forward thinking Lincoln to come as the day-glo mid-1980's melted into the late eighties and beyond. Wouldn't you know it? It wasn't meant to be and the VII, despite a nine year run where, for all intents and purposes it went unchanged, never found the audience that Lincoln had wistfully hoped for. So, what went wrong?

Well, the VII certainly had its work cut out for it. Being a radical departure from every Mark that came before it was one thing but it had to contend with what had become a fast evolving luxury car market. One with ferocious foreign competition Lee Iaccocca, Bunkie Knudsen and Henry Ford II didn't have to deal with.

In the eighties, "Young-Urban-Professionals" wouldn't be caught dead in a Lincoln (or Cadillac) and even their older, "core-target" buyers, were fragmented - many didn't know what to make of the the Mark VII. Thus, sales of the Mark VII during, again, an unusually long production run, added up to approximately two-hundred fifty thousand sold. Remember, Lincoln pushed out that many Mark V's in just three years. VII sales, year-to-year, roughly, on average, in line with VI sales and a third of what V sales were each year. Well, at least the Mark VII was actually a pretty good car. A tasty dish at a party that no one wanted to attend anymore.

Lincoln Continental Mark VIII: A Far off Time and Place

By the early 1990's, personal luxury car sales had slowed due to shifting customer tastes and wants, we surmise at least when sales first began to plummet, from product development at the apex of the popularity of a sacrificing requiring, niche market fad out of step with buyer expectations. For more on this subject please review our section on the Mark VI. There was foreign competition as well and, what's more, young, style conscious buyers whom in the past may have aspired to a personal-luxury car, if they stayed with a domestic make at all, had the additional choice then of sport utility vehicles. They cost about the same as a personal luxury car and had an aire of "rugged sophistication" that was different, we won't say "better", but it was definitely different than what a luxurious coupe offered image conscious buyers. Why compromise when you can have it all? It didn't help matters that Lincoln's public perception in the market could not have have been older and less hip either. Under this harsh, retrospective glare it's amazing to us Ford even bothered with the Lincoln Continental Mark VIII.

Save for unique styling that was perhaps the boldest of all personal luxury cars available at the  time, the Ford MN12 based Mark VIII didn't exactly evolve the market segment to places it had never been before either Then again, where could it have gone? Bold styling? Offered elsewhere. Powerful engine? Sporty ride and handling? Also offered elsewhere - even at other Ford divisions. Speaking of which, it differed from the the 1989 vintage Ford Thunderbird and Mercury Cougar it shared the MN12 with only in that it was modified somewhat to accommodate Ford's very wide DOHC V-8 engine. Everything else that was different was pure gingerbread. What were buyers actually getting then when they ponied the extra coin for an VIII?

Lincoln once again peddling an automobile priced with steep stipend that really wasn't all that different from other models it was based on. In a market niche that wasn't just splintered but shattered by the early 1990's, there were few takers each model year for an expensive automobile that offered little cache above unique styling inside and out. Sure, there were buyers who could care less about the logo on the trunk lid and bought the VIII because they simply liked the design of it but those buyers were few and far between.

Who knows what Lincoln's expectations for the Mark VIII were. Again, knowing the market dynamics at the time and how poorly the VII sold, it's a head scratcher they made the effort at all. We're glad they did, mind you, but then again, we're the folks at a wedding who only dance when 1970's disco and some 1980's music is playing. Cars like the Mark VIII, and while we're at it all personal luxury cars from say, 1980 on, we feel are half-hearted attempts to ape a different time and place. Which is ironic given that at the height of their success, personal luxury cars were nostalgia based as they emulated cars from the past. When Ford pulled the plug on the the Mark VIII after 1998, few cared or noticed. In spirit, allegedly, Lincoln replaced the Mark VIII with the LS, which was a four-door sedan. In reality though, seeing the way the market had shifted, the Mark VIII was replaced by the Lincoln Navigator.

Lincoln Continental Marks - Weren't They Great? 

Today's cross-overs do it all, don't they? They perform better than sports cars of just twenty years ago, are as comfortable as a favorite easy chair, they're as practical as giant luggage and, well, some of them, actually look pretty good too. By and large, though, and, yeah-yeah, subjective, most if not all of them lack the mojo, the elan if you will that all of the Lincoln Continental Mark's had, yes, to some degree even the Mark VI. You look at these Marks of the 1970's now and you wonder what in the world where they thinking. Weren't they great? 

1997 Chevrolet Lumina LS - Throw Me the Damn Keys

Way back before the cross over craze t-boned the sedan market, cars like this 1997 Chevrolet Lumina were the bread and butter of the automobile industry; domestic and foreign. While 1980's Japanese cars defined what a sedan could and dare I say should be, domestically, Ford flipped the board in 1986 when they introduced their Taurus and somewhat conservatively styled Mercury Sable. The design theme of those cars playing off the progressive 1983 "aero" Thunderbird" and Cougar. I never really cared for those cars save for 1987-88 Thunderbirds so I was flummoxed by what people saw in the Taurus/Sable. Then I drove one or two and "got-it". While it's a stretch to say they road and handled like a Camry or Taurus, their road-going dynamics were quite good, ergonomics were ingeniusly simple and they were great values. Damn it, GM. Why didn't you come out with those cars?

Well, they did. Or at least tried to. GM "invented" the six passenger, front-wheel-drive American sedan with their X-body (Citation) and A-body (Celebrity) in 1980 and 1982 but they were terrible cars; especially the Citation. New for 1990, the Chevrolet Lumina was Chevrolet's answer to Ford's Taurus. And, for a variety of reason, it went over like a lead balloon. Part of GM's infamous "GM10" or "W-body" platform, the cars were first introduced at Pontiac, Oldsmobile and Buick in 1988 as coupes only. Coupe lover me rejoiced but most people did not. Ford never offered Taurus or Sable, or Lincoln Continental starting in 1988, in coupe guise indicating they realized that coupes were falling out of favor with buyers or it was more cost effective to build one body type; well two if you count the wagon versions. GM waited until mid-year 1989 to introduce their "Chevrolet Taurus" as 1990 models complete with an introduction at Disney World.

Derided from the get-go as clumsily and derivatively styled, the 1990-1994 Chevrolet Lumina never gained sales traction up against Ford; not to mention the bevy of impossibly perfect imports from Honda, Toyota and Nissan. Yours truly, of course, dutifully bought two Lumina coupes between 1990 and 1994 and loved them. Well, loved the '90 Euro that I foolishly traded in for a '94 Z34 that while certainly the belle of the early 1990's midsize coupe ball, was one of several car purchase gaffes I've made that I'd do over if I could. More on that here.

Our '97 here is part of the Lumina class of 1995 that was the first of the '88 GM10's, by '95 GM changed the chassis designation to "W-body", to receive any significant upgrades. Along with an updated base engine, GM swapped out the creaky, "Corvette-inspired", transverse leaf spring rear suspension for more conventional coils. All that along with new sheet metal that was deemed far more contemporary than before. I, of course, thought it looked like a Taurus; albeit a better looking one. At least the two-door version they called "Monte Carlo" had some elan although not nearly as much as the previous Lumina coupe or the arugubly over-styled Monte Carlo that debuted in 2000. Hey, I know what I'm talking about here. I've had five of these cars over the last (gulp) thirty years and I've had my present 2002 Monte Carlo going on ten years. Hey, don't judge. Plain and simple, you either "get" these cars or you don't and it's impossible to explain what there is to "get". So, there.

What to make, then, of our '97 here above and beyond what might be a solid albeit very old used car? Well, honestly, not much more than it being a staid, second rate transportation conveyance that couldn't go bumper-to-bumper with it's competition when it was less old. With it being a 1997 and all it doesn't mean it's not perfectally suitable for whatever I'd need it for. The kicker is, if I found a Taurus of this vintage with similar mileage and asking price I wouldn't give it a moments notice.

To me an old Taurus is just an old car whereas even something like this plain-as-vanilla pudding Lumina is still something special. That's my GM loyalty talking more than anything. Look, I'm a GM/Chevy girl and always will be despite their breaking my heart as often as they have over the years. Much like shifting my wholesale allegiance to my sports teams, I'm stuck with that loyalty as though it was family. So, throw me the keys to this damn thing and let's go for a test drive.

1980 Toyota Tercel - New Think

This...is a 1980 Toyota Tercel. How I disdained it when it was new. I was hooked on bigger-is-better, over-styled, rumbling V-8 powered, two-ton plus gas guzzlers. Eight, nine, ten miles per gallon? This is America, kid, and that's the way we do things here. Well, honestly, that sentiment was fine until I started driving and realized how difficult the big domestics were to handle and how expensive filling up a twenty plus gallon gas tank was on a car that couldn't go much more than two hundred miles on a fill up. I also had no idea how utterly frustrating constant break downs could be. I had so much to learn. Oh, so much.

Hard to believe but prior to 1980 Toyota did not sell a front-wheel-drive automobile in the United States. Honda, Subaru and even Datsun (Nissan) did but Toyota? No. And when they finally did come out with a front driver in 1980, they did it differently than anyone else. Well, different than the other Japanese makes.

While having an interior just as space efficient as the others, Toyota eschewed the growing conventional sentiment of driving the front wheels via a transverse mounted engine and unequal length "half-shafts". It may have looked like a rear wheel driver from inside the engine room but our Tercel has a power train with more in common with a then current Cadillac Eldorado and it's "unitized power package" than a Honda Accord or Datsun 310.

Unless we're able to pin down a Toyota engineer who helped design this power train, we'll never know for sure why they went longitudinal with the mounting of Tercel's engine. One could surmise it was a safer engineering bet than going "all-in" with an all new trans-mounted design. Toyota was then as they are now, a very conservative company and slow to adapt "new-think". Thing is, while they've always been slow to move, they're always moving forward. And a benefit to this engine mounting was in for 1983, when they rolled out an all wheel drive model, all they had to do was throw on a drive shaft out the back of the transmission. As if it things like that were ever that simple.

Toyota was also so concerned that the buying public would be incredulous towards a new model that they festooned "Corolla" on 1980 and 1981 Tercel's so it would appear it was a sub-brand of Corolla. A model that by 1980 had achieved near iconic status in a gas starved America.

Would one of these ever appear in my "Jay Leno" fantasy garage? Oh, hell no. However, if I was to be the curator of an automobile museum, one of these along with an early Civic, Datsun F-10 and Subaru GL most certainly would be as they represent the apex of automotive engineering in the late 1970's and early 1980's.  

1967 Chrysler Newport - More Than Meets The Eye

Funny how as we age, we see an old car and we see a lot more than just an old car.

In my high school days in the early 1980's, half of the crew that I ran with had their own cars while the other half drove their parents cars. There was certainly no shame in the latter since all of the guy's parents cars were way cooler than the horrific piece of junk I was unlucky enough to call my own. Without a doubt the coolest of the "parents cars" was the 1967 Chrysler Newport that belonged to my buddy Rob's mom. This well preserved example looks just like it save for a darker shade of green. Or whatever fifty-three years of mid west weather has worn it down to.

My take-a-ways on that big Newport was its awesome styling inside and out, cavernous interior and magnificent engine. The only real downside was it got single digit gas mileage even when driven responsibly; that seriously got into our modest "fun money" since we all chipped in for gas whenever we'd go out in it. It had horrible brakes too and its steering made the rudder on the Titanic seem responsive but oh, that engine. Granted it seemed even more powerful compared to the emissions clogged, six cylinder golf cart I was driving but any time I drove it I felt as though I was king of the world. Which, for reasons that seem preposterous to me now, I found myself doing quite often because "the gang" considered me to be a "responsible and safe" driver. Truth be known, aside from being intoxicated by the right-now! thrust of the car's "383" engine, the sheer mass and bulk of the thing terrified me. My apprehension driving it more than likely came across as maturity.

So, what was, a Newport? Well, as is often the case with automobiles, there's more to what we're looking at than meets the eye. Named after a Chrysler concept car from the 1930's, the 1960's Chrysler Newport evolved from Chrysler's discontinuation of their DeSoto line in mid model year 1961. What had been a "DeSoto" suddenly became a lower priced Chrysler model. It was rather brilliant when you think about it and begs the questions as to why they didn't do something like that sooner. The answer to that probably has more to do with pride and hubris than anything else.

In the years before and after World War II, Chrysler attempted to go bumper-to-bumper with General Motors in having a line of automobiles that would fit a wide variety of income levels. At the bottom of their pricing ladder was Plymouth followed by Dodge, DeSoto, Chrysler and finally Imperial. While there was always a resemblance to all makes and models on GM's family tree, for the most part, Chrysler did little more than rebadge each of their makes and models making little distinction overall between, say, a Plymouth and an Imperial. The two brands that took the brunt of Chrysler's lack of distinctiveness were Imperial, which could never really go bumper-to-bumper with Cadillac not to mention Lincoln, and DeSoto which attempted to be Chrysler's Oldsmobile. Throw into the batter the fact that Ford attempted to the same pricing ladder thing in the late '50's and poor little DeSoto didn't stand a chance.

As all auto manufacturers did back then, Chrysler sliced, diced, kneaded and chopped their wares seemingly every year so that each model year their wares were different from the previous year prior. In my humble opinion, of all the different iterations of the Newport throughout the sixties, they really got it right with the '67 two door models. Although, that flying buttress of "C" pillar holding up the back of the roof, cool as hell as it was, did young me or anyone driving these cars any favors when changing lanes. Holy blind spot, Batman.

Sadly, I lost contact with Rob about half way through college. I'm not really sure what happened but in the politics of the group I called my friends, really we were just a really obnoxious clique, he fell out of favor with what could best be described as the leaders of the bunch. To remain in good standing with the group, I was more or less forced to part ways with Rob which was really sad since I was friends with him first and he introduced me to everyone. Of everyone in the group, I felt a special bond to him since he was the only one else like me who came from a wildly dysfunctional family.

As for his mother's Newport, although his parents were divorced, his father still ruled the roost when it came to finances for her. It being the early '80's and gas being as expensive as it was, he thought it best to trade it in for something more economical. That more economical thing turned out to be a Fiat Strada of all things. A horrible little car that actually made even less sense than the Newport did. Talk about dysfunctional.

1995 Chevrolet Corsica - Haha. A Corisca.

The other day I was gassing up my wife's beloved 1995 Lexus SC400 at Costco when an employee working the gas station asked me what year my car was. When I told him it was a '95, he laughed and said, "I've got a '95 too!" Taken back by the absurd coincidence that someone else could have the same make, model and year Lexus SC that my wife and I have, they're not exactly common place, I nervously blurted out, "it's a great car, isn't it?". Only thing was, he wasn't referring to a 1995 Lexus that he had but his 1995 Chevrolet Corsica; the only thing in common between our cars was the model year. I told my son the story later that night and he laughed out loud, "haha, a Corsica!" His was red just like this and in similar condition to this '95 I found somewhere on line. 

Haha. A Corsica. Indeed. Somewhat indignant that someone would ask what year our Lexus was, we don't look at it and see a twenty-five year old car but rather one that is a timeless beauty, I must admit the guy's Corsica appeared to be in great shape too. Someone was pulling in behind me and needed my pump so I couldn't continue the conversation. I waved at the guy giving him a thumbs up and a smile as I was suddenly catapulted back to 1988-1996 and all of the memories I have of Corsica's came rushing back. I can't say any of them are bad but much like the car itself, they just are very memorable.

Named after the beautiful French governed Mediterranean island of Corsica, Chevrolet's Corsica was their compact sedan offering that replaced their infamous Citation. To give you an idea of the lineage, Citation replaced the Nova for 1980 and the Malibu in 1997 replaced the Corsica. While the Corsica carried over the Citation's 60 degree V-6 as an option and Chevrolet's on again, off again tendency for alliteration, it was all but a clean sheet design when GM rolled it out early in 1987 as an '88. While it's sister coupe, the Berretta, was a memorable design and stood out at the auto show, the Corsica didn't wow anyone with its "modern" but still dowdy sheet metal. If the Church Lady drove a 1988 domestic, she probably drove a Corsica. Things got even worse inside.

Injection molded plastic automobile interiors were a cost saving rage in the late 1960's and they really took off in the 1970's. While there's still a lot of that even today, they've come a long way in terms of fit, finish and texture but in the late '80's, the Corsica's joyless insides epitomized GM '80's craptacularness. I can't imagine how any one purchasing an automobile back then to a price point would buy a Corsica when for not much more money they could have had a Honda Civic. Or any compact Japanese sedan for the matter. Yeah, "buy American" was a powerful sentiment even back then but still. Folks gave up a lot of refinement and reliability for the Red, White and Blue.

My time spent in a Corsica boiled down to a ten day period in summer of 1988 when I rented one while my shitty 1982 Buick Riviera's transmission was being replaced. It was competent enough but amazingly unremarkable. Nothing like the zippy Toyota Corolla FX that I had rented not six months prior when I was between my Cordoba and the Riviera. My buying the Riv and not buying something like the FX one of a handful of seriously bad automobile buying decisions I've made in my life. Don't hold your breath, I don't plan on making any better ones in the near future.

While the specialness of our 1995 Lexus has been somewhat eroded by a mass of other cars that have seemingly come up to reach it's awesomeness if not somehow surpassed it, the contrast between the two '95's is really startling. Where our Lexus is refined in every single way imaginable, the Corsica is crude, cheap and primitive. It's also ugly. Granted it's not fair to compare a Japanese luxury car that stickered originally for more than $53,000 to a Chevrolet economy sedan that cost under $20,000 back then, but today, you really don't sacrifice that much in overall road going vehicle dynamics if you drive a modern Malibu versus the spiritual successor of our SC, the Lexus LC.

Amazingly, luxury car makers today have resorted to wild styling and gadgetry to lure buyers as opposed to actually offering cars that perform better than less costly makes and models. Much like athletes, the sky's only so high. Our 1995 Lexus SC400 illustrates just how much higher GM needed to jump back then to stay competitive. While a mid '90's Cadillac could go tire-to-tire with Lexus to some degree, you have to give GM credit these days for making a Malibu as smooth and competent as it is. Please note, I didn't say it was good looking.

Back to that guy's Corsica, the most interesting thing is why and how such an ordinary if mundane automobile has survived as long as it has. I doubt I'll ever see that guy again seeing how Costco cycles through employees faster than they do "48 packs" of toilet paper but I would like to ask him more about it. Just as well as is most often the case, any story I could come up with would probably be a lot more interesting than the truth. That said, if I do see him again, I'll be sure to ask him so stay tuned.