Tag: 1930’s

Cities Service “Miler” Tires – David Conwill @Hemmings

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A Reminder Of When Service Stations Sold More Than Just Fuel And Snacks

Overview

Miler tires were a replacement available at Cities Service stations and are one collectible that will likely never be reproduced. This pair, seen in the swap meet at the Carlisle Ford Nationals, were the correct size to fit a 1933 or ’34 Ford. While too old and oxidized to ever see service again, the deep tread and well-preserved sidewall detail means they were perfect for display.

What was Cities Service?

Cities Service has been better known since the mid-1960s (and officially known since the early 1980s) as Citgo, and is commonly associated with the Venezuelan government. Before 1986, when resisting a takeover attempt by notorious corporate raider T. Boone Pickens badly destabilized its finances, it was an entirely U.S.-owned company. It was founded in 1910, not as a petroleum-dealing concern, but to supply electricity and natural gas to municipalities—hence the name Cities Service. Within a decade, however, its position in the natural-gas market made it a natural entrant into the gas-and-oil industry and it began exiting the municipal-supply business in the 1940s when forced to choose in response to federal legislation. The familiar triangle-in-cloverleaf logo seen on the sidewall of this tire was first used in 1921, according to company trademark filings.

Why did Cities Service sell replacement tires?

In the 1920s, fuel sellers quickly discovered that there wasn’t enough money to be made simply filling up motorists’ tanks— plus they had a ready supply of other petroleum products available for retail (think lighter fluid, cleaning solvents, etc.). Diversification was the order of the day and Cities Service was hardly alone in selling house-branded merchandise to its customers. Socony-Vacuum’s Mobil brand is well remembered as is that of the Atlas Supply Company, a company jointly owned by several Standard Oil successors. Cities Service was marketing Acme-brand tires in the mid-1930s and by 1950 its halo tire was called the Cities Service Airmaster—a riff on the Milemaster moniker the company had used to label tires (under the Acme brand as Mile-Master), gasoline (or “gasolene” as Cities Service styled it back then), car batteries, and other products as early as 1932.

Just how old is this Miler?

It’s tough to say just when these tires were made. The size, 5.25/5.50 x 17, was common in the early 1930s, being original equipment on the 1933-’34 Ford, the 1933-’36 Chevrolet Standard, some 1933-’35 Plymouths, and other, similarly sized cars. Because those brands all had mass-market appeal, it meant there was a massive replacement market when they were in service— especially since the Great Depression meant not everyone was ready to re-tire with name-brand rubber like Firestone, Goodyear, or B.F. Goodrich (which was later renamed BFGoodrich in the 1980s). Since Milemaster became a Cities Service brand (directly, rather than as an Acme tire) in the 1940s and lasted through the 1960s as a tire brand, they would seem to be from a rather narrow window of time when Acme tires were sold using the Mile-Master name, leaving Cities Service to turn to something purely descriptive for its high-mileage tire. These are probably no newer than the early 1940s.

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The Startix automatic engine starting mechanism

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The Startix automatic engine starting mechanism was a relay in a small box added to the vehicle’s electrical system. It automatically started an engine from cold or if stalled. It was supplied to vehicle manufacturers in the mid 1930s and later as an aftermarket accessory — in the USA by Bendix Aviation Corporation^[1] Eclipse Machine Division and in UK by Joseph Lucas & Son both of which businesses made electric self-starters. Such devices are now part of the engine management systems which switch off and on to conserve fuel.

Operation

The switching on of the ignition starts the engine and, in addition, automatically restarts the engine whenever it stalls, as long as the ignition is switched on.

As soon as the ignition is switched on current flows to the first Startix solenoid and current flows from battery to starter. The generator delivers current once the engine starts and part of it goes to a second Startix solenoid that switches off the current from battery to starter. If the engine and generator stop, then that second solenoid switches on the current from the battery to the starter. There are many further refinements associated with the plain relay.

Market

It was marketed in the 1930s particularly for cars with then fashionable free-wheel manual transmissions but carburation problems led to automobile manufacturers soon dropping them as original equipment. They continued as an aftermarket accessory for cars with automatic transmissions into the middle years of the 20th century.

Free-wheeling

In the absence of a complete lock-up of the transmission of power between engine and wheels a car engine might die while idling. Even on a gentle long descent the driver might be unaware of engine failure until power was required and it could be dangerous particularly if braking-assistance depended on the engine and the reservoir or reserves proved inadequate.

False sense of security

Poorly adjusted engines could easily flood with fuel when attempting to restart while coasting and become unusable until dried out. Fuel management has since become so sophisticated this ceased to be a problem with the introduction of high quality fuel injection systems.

Automatic transmission

There was the appeal of the “power everything” car which automatically started its engine. Many early automatics had no lock up of their transmission, for example Dynaflow, Powerglide and Ultramatic though Hydramatic did.

Manufacturers

These US manufacturers provided Startix as original equipment during the 1930s:

Pierce-Arrow
Packard
Hudson
Lincoln
Studebaker
Auburn
Franklin
Essex
Willys
Durant
Cord

Source Wikipedia

A Short History of the Mercury Brand @FordMotorCompany

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NAMED FROM ROMAN MYTHOLOGY AND POPULAR FOR OVER 70 YEARS

In the 1930s, Ford designers began work on a vehicle that would have more features and styling than was offered on any other current Ford product. As the vehicle neared completion in 1938, Edsel Ford and Ford Sales Manager Jack Davis decided to launch an all-new brand for the premium range to set it apart from the mainstream Ford Blue Oval products and Lincoln luxury cars. And, with that, Mercury was born.

The vehicles from Mercury would compete with mid-level offerings from GM, Dodge and Chrysler’s DeSoto, but would slot in just below the Cadillac lineup. Mercury filled a niche between our deluxe Ford V-8 and the Lincoln Zephyr V-12.

Henry Ford’s son, Edsel, chose the name for this new lineup. Mercury, the winged god of commerce in Roman mythology, symbolizes dependability, speed, skill, and eloquence. Ford’s vision for the Mercury brand included improved power, ride, handling, stopping distance, internal noise, and enhanced styling.

The first model, the 1939 Mercury 8, sold for $916 and had a 95-horsepower V-8 engine. More than 65,000 were built the first year. The offerings included a two- and four-door sedan, a sports convertible, and a town sedan. Just two short years after Mercury debuted, America entered World War II and production was halted. When the war ended in 1945, Mercury was coupled with Lincoln, and the Lincoln-Mercury Division was born.

In 1949, Mercury introduced the first of its “new look” integrated bodies, which became a favorite of the hot-rod generation. Movie buffs saw James Dean’s customized version of the ’49 Mercury Series 9CM when he drove a de-chromed version of the car in the 1955 movie classic Rebel Without a Cause.

The 1950s featured even more modern styling and innovations such as the industry first fixed sunroof/moonroof on the 1954 Mercury Sun Valley, with a transparent Plexiglas top. In 1957, Mercurys grew wider, longer, lower, and more powerful with what was called “Dream Car Design.” Mercury had entered its heyday as a premium brand with models like the Montclair, Monterey and Turnpike Cruiser.

During the Ford Division’s 1960s “Total Performance” era, Mercury added performance and speed with vehicles such as the S-55 and Marauder, which found some success in racing. In 1967, the Cougar was introduced, which was Mercury’s version of the Ford Mustang. The 1970s saw the introduction of the Grand Marquis, Mercury’s best-selling nameplate. Mercury sales peaked in 1978 at an all-time high of 580,000.

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Source Ford Motor Company

The Ford Rotunda: Gateway to the Rouge @FordMotorCompany

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IN 1936, FORD’S WORLD’S FAIR EXPOSITION FOUND A PERMANENT HOME IN DEARBORN AND BECAME ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR TOURIST ATTRACTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES.

“FORD will participate in the 1934 World’s Fair at Chicago!” exclaimed the March edition of the Ford News. That same spring, Ford Motor Company opened the doors on a new pavilion. Sitting on 11 acres of land along the Lake Michigan shoreline, the rotunda exhibition welcomed nearly 50 million people during its two-year run.

By late 1934, it was announced that following the Fair, the Rotunda would be re-located to Dearborn to act as a visitor center and starting point for public tours of the Rouge. The original architect, Albert Kahn, was called upon to update the building design for its new purpose. One thousand tons of structural steel as well as many of the interior displays were shipped from Chicago and reassembled on a 13 ½ acre site across from the Ford Administration Building. The original plasterboard siding was removed and replaced with Indiana limestone. The newly situated Rotunda would also feature the original “Roads of the World” outdoor exhibition.

After more than a year of construction, the new Rotunda was opened on May 14, 1936. The Rotunda welcomed nearly 1,000,000 visitors per year until it was closed to the public in early 1942. Movie stars, celebrities, business leaders, heads of state, and millions of ordinary people came to learn about and to celebrate the Ford Motor Company.

During the transition to wartime efforts, the Rotunda served as office space and a school for the Army Air Corps, with barracks set up across Rotunda Drive. The theater was used as a movie hall to entertain the soldiers. Following World War II, the Rotunda was used for Dealer presentations, press events and other business meetings. In 1946, ten young army officers, soon to be known as The Whiz Kids, first met Henry Ford II over lunch at the Rotunda.

In 1953, the building underwent a major renovation in anticipation of re-opening to the public. New displays were installed, and facilities were improved to better handle large crowds. The central courtyard was covered over with a light-weight geodesic dome, designed by Buckminster Fuller. A crowd of people braved stormy weather to watch as the Rotunda, decorated like a huge birthday cake, re-opened on the evening of June 16, 1953 – as the culmination of the Company’s 50th Anniversary celebration.

Nearly 1½ million people visited the Rotunda to see the displays, ride the cars, and tour the Rouge in the first twelve months after re-opening. Visitors were able to see how a car was designed, how steel was made, and how an assembly plant worked. In 1958, the new Continental was introduced to the press under a 100 foot tall model of the Eiffel Tower. In 1959, just after Alaska became the 49th state, a display was built featuring mountains, fishermen and a stuffed grizzly bear. Flower shows and custom car shows were also held within the Rotunda’s walls. However, among the most memorable displays was the annual Christmas Fantasy. Opening just after Thanksgiving, there were typically 60,000 or more guests on the opening Sunday. Children could visit with Santa or look at his workshop, while the rest of the family viewed the latest car models.

On November 9, 1962, as the Rotunda was preparing for the Christmas Fantasy, a fire started on the roof of the building where workers were making repairs. The fire quickly burned through and dropped onto the Christmas decorations. Fire crews from Dearborn and the Rouge were unable to stop the flames, and the Rotunda was destroyed.

Source Ford Motor Company

For prewar Ford four-banger speed enthusiasts, the Roof OHV conversion is tops – Daniel J Beaudry @Hemmings

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*Image from the Roof family collection, shared by Jim Roof and the Secrets of Speed Society.*

It doesn’t happen every day, but sometimes you just fall into something really, really good. That’s how it was with me when I was researching an upcoming article on pre-muscle speed parts and my friend Kevin Carlson told me about the existence of an exceedingly scarce original Roof overhead-valve conversion for Ford Model A’s. And it’s what happened to Brandon Fish of South Kingstown, Rhode Island, when he answered a Worcester, Massachusetts, classified ad for a couple of Winfield SR carburetors, a homemade intake and what turned out to be that rare Roof OHV.

“I drove up, and it was a blizzard,” Brandon remembers. “It took me two and a half hours to go maybe 70 miles.”

And, truth be told, when Brandon saw the OHV conversion, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at, but the price for the assortment of parts was too good to pass up. “I knew what the carburetors were worth, so I figured I couldn’t go wrong, and when I saw it [the OHV conversion], it was clean. It was a raced head, back in the day, because the water pump—the fan—was cut off, so it had external cooling. There was no scale. I’d say it was maybe used minimally. Minimally. It was mint.”

Brandon had been very close to missing out on the historic purchase because, like himself, a lot of other hot rodders had noticed the listing—planning, building and bench racing is what we do during the long winters up here in the frozen North. “They all had seen it,” Brandon says of some of his comrades, “and they laughed because they all tried to get it that same night. It was first-come, first-served.”

But, while Brandon had been considering an overhead-valve conversion for the engine in his Model A he was reworking for the 2014 Race of Gentlemen, a Roof hadn’t been on his radar. “We’ve done The Race of Gentlemen for two years now, and you don’t like to keep the same car … I had pretty much a stock B motor in my coupe. It was nothing flashy, but it was kind of a hopped-up B motor,” Brandon explains. “I was going to go overhead valve… I was leaning more toward a Riley.”

It took several months and some conversations with Charlie Yapp, of the banger-focused Secrets of Speed Society and Scalded Dog Speed Parts, before Brandon changed his plans to include the Roof. Charlie “…was the only person I knew who was knowledgeable,” says Brandon. After their chats, Brandon was hooked: “I thought, ‘Oh, I gotta build this, just to have this huge piece of history’

Image from the Roof family collection, shared by Jim Roof and the Secrets of Speed Society.

What, exactly makes the Roof head so special? Roof patented an OHV conversion for the Model T in 1919, and according to Charlie Yapp, while “Morton & Brett was the first speed parts company to advertise an overhead conversion for Model A Fords … Roof, of Anderson, Indiana, was the first to have actual product and 101-MPH race results for his promotions.”

With a four-cylinder L-head engine displacing 200.5 cubic inches and rated at 40 hp, a stock Ford Model A engine could turn between 60 and 70 MPH, given enough smooth surface to travel over, but Roof was claiming that his “Cyclone” OHV conversion could increase this figure by around 34 percent.

Charlie explains, however, that, while almost any OHV conversion would improve the airflow and increase the horsepower of a Model A engine, the original Roof castings would be considered rough by the standards of today, and the 101 MPH claim was likely possible only because of “having a longer run than the other guy.”

Nevertheless, along with the premium componentry—Winfield carburetion, Packard sparking, etc—that accompanied the Roof Cyclone, its F-head, two-port architecture utilizing 2-inch intake valves, resulted in a smoother, more powerful engine not unlike those then distinguishing themselves in professional racing automobiles.

But their enhancement to four-banger performance isn’t what makes them so desirable, especially when they are compared to the more powerful Riley, Cragar and Miller conversions that would soon become available. It’s that the Roofs were the first and that they are rare—”rarer than hen’s teeth” was a phrase I encountered a lot when talking with people about them.

Charlie doesn’t have any definitive production records, but “I’m pretty sure,” he asserts, “that only about 10 of these heads still exist, and only four or five are in a condition to run”—a fact that makes Brandon Fish’s find even more exceptional.

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Matchless Model AAs – Ford built Model AA trucks in a variety of configurations – Richard Lentinello @Hemmings

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*1931 Ford Model AA tanker. Photography by author.*

Ford’s handsome little Model A was one of the most successful and popular automobiles of all time. It had the right look, was the perfect size, and priced so the majority of American could afford one.

Although the Model A was only in production for a little more than four short years starting in late 1927 and ending in 1932, nearly five million had been built. What’s more amazing is the amount of different body styles it was available in, including two- and four-door sedans, coupes, phaetons, roadsters and cabriolets, most of which could be had in either standard or deluxe trim. Then there were the trucks.

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Meet the rare Reo that proves originality isn’t always best – Paul Regan @Classic&SportsCar

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It’s 1973, and Al Parkes has decided it’s time.

For too long his father’s old Reo Flying Cloud has served as little but a brooding hunk of metal beside the family’s suburban home in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

He has petrol, spark plugs and enthusiasm – but it hasn’t run since before he was old enough to remember.

It is only in the details that you realise this Reo isn’t in its standard spec

At this time Parkes is in his early 20s and life already has many ingredients of the American Dream.

He has ditched university for a career with McDonald’s, feet on the first rungs of a corporate ladder but heart set on owning one of the hot rod-era V8s that regularly shake the drive-through window.

His father, Don, is an engineer and there’s barely any distance between apple and tree when it comes to things mechanical.

The Reo’s straight-six coughs on its first taste of gasoline in more than two decades.

The last time it moved without the help of a tow was in the moments before Don was forced off the road into a ditch in ’53.

The front bumper was buckled and the wing bent – and with a growing family, a replacement vehicle with more seats was an easier prospect than repair.

And so the Reo sat, disturbed from its slumber only when the Parkes family moved home.

Like a stray dog it followed from garage to barn to driveway, including the one upon which it now sits rocking rhythmically to the tune of its tired starter motor.

Another cough. A longer splutter. Then it fires – filling the neighbourhood with thick white smoke, and Parkes’ head with dreams of a full restoration.

It was the beginning of a journey with the Flying Cloud that would go on to last most of a lifetime.

This Reo has been part of the Parkes family for longer than its owner – 71 years and counting – so he has lived a full spectrum of experiences with the coupe, from unexpected child’s toy to retirement plaything.

“My first memory of the car is in the family barn when I was about five years old,” he smiles. “We used to run up the fenders and leap off into bales of hay, hoping to avoid bruising from those great big chrome headlamps.”

At that time the ‘Old Brown Reo’, as it came to be known, was probably only about 20 years old, but such was the pace of car design in those days it already felt like a relic.

Living so close to Detroit, the streets were always full of the latest models and even though Parkes’ father was rarely in the market for new metal, he would frequently chop and change from used car lots.

Somehow the Reo lingered, in stasis between jalopy and classic.

“The first time we saw any value in it was in the early ’60s, when a guy walked past the house and offered my dad $1000 for it,” Parkes recalls. “I never thought to ask him why he said no; he worked six days a week and any time left was given to his hobby, flying planes.”

*The smallblock Chevy V8 nestles snugly under the bonnet*

The car’s value – sentimental, at least – was creeping up.

Don had owned the Reo for only a few years before the accident, having traded down from a 1948 Buick with onerous finance repayments.

It had been well kept in the hands of a local doctor and perhaps he felt it too good to scrap, or that someone else would reap the benefit after an easy repair.

Either way, there was never an active decision to keep it, but equally no desire to let it go. Instead it waited for familiarity to mature into nostalgia, and for that moment in 1973 when Parkes would crank it over

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The Gorgeous Duesenberg Model J of William Randolph Hearst – Joe Donaldson @GTPlanet

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The 1930s were a time of extremes. With much of the American population living in poverty due to the Great Depression, the extremely wealthy still existed in small amounts. The owner of this week’s Want found himself in the latter category — at least for a time.

William Randolph Hearst made a name for himself throughout the late 19th to early 20th century. Known for building a media empire and as a notable politician, Hearst was among the richest men in the world during his time. That is until he nearly went bankrupt in the mid-’30s due to poor money management.

During his time of wealth, Hearst was all about the extravagant. From fine art to a lavish castle in San Simeon, California, he had it all. All one needs to do is watch Citizen Kane to get an idea of how Hearst was.

While Hearst was at the 1930 Paris Auto Salon, his mistress — famed actress Marion Davies — saw the Model J on display. Not wanting to disappoint her, Hearst bought the vehicle and several months later it arrived in California.

Virtually anywhere Hearst and Davies traveled, the Model J came along with them. From nearly everywhere in Europe to all over Africa, the car saw more of the world than most of us ever will. The prominent New York Times automotive journalist and antique expert, Dennis Adler, concluded this might be the world’s most well-travelled Duesenberg.

That says something too, considering the multitude of high profile people who owned a Model J. From kings to dukes to some of the wealthiest families in the world, these cars made their rounds with long distance grand tourers.

When Hearst ran into financial problems, his Model J was sold off. Not much is known about the second owner other than he was probably a sailor. In 1954 though, Ray Wolff, the historian for the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Club purchased the car for a mere $500.

A year late Wolff passed the car onto his friend Joe Kaufmann. Unless you’re a huge fan of cars coming out of Auburn, Indiana, this name might not mean anything to you. But for fans of all things Auburn Automotive Company, Kaufmann was the foremost expert.

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The depression nearly killed Cadillac. Nick Dreystadt saved it by wielding uncommon compassion – Michael Lamm @Hemmings

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This is not my story. I read a lot of it in Peter Drucker’s book, Adventures of a Bystander. It’s the story of Nicholas Dreystadt, and I consider Dreystadt’s life interesting and inspiring enough to pass along. But I’ll do it in my own words, because I think Mr. Drucker might be upset if I plagiarized him directly.

I should explain that Peter Drucker, who passed away in 2005, studied and wrote about business management. Business Week called him “the founding father” of that discipline. Before Drucker formalized management, business managers didn’t think much about the subject. And in the course of his 95-year life, Drucker advised international leaders, including three of our presidents. He studied the workings of major industry leaders, taught at Bennington College, Sarah Lawrence, Claremont, and NYU. He wrote 81 books and received 10 honorary degrees from universities around the world.

What caught my eye in Adventures of a Bystander was the chapter in which he talked about General Motors. Mr. Drucker wanted to study GM to discover how it was organized and how it ran itself. In doing so, he contrasted the management styles of two divisional “presidents,” what we now call general managers: Marvin Coyle of Chevrolet and Nicholas Dreystadt of Cadillac. Both names were familiar to me, but I hadn’t known much about either man.

According to Drucker, Marvin Coyle ran Chevrolet with a heavy hand. His people were generally afraid of him, and he was very much the off-putting autocrat. Dreystadt represented the opposite: easygoing, friendly, good-natured, casual, with a good sense of humor. Coyle, though, had built Chevrolet into GM’s powerhouse—the corporation’s main source of income—and despite being dictatorial, Marvin Coyle earned the respect of his peers.

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ONE OLD PROOF SHEET – Pat Ganahl’s Rod and Custom

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I think it’s time for something old. Really old. Like 1930s and pre-War ’40s old. We’re talking Muroc dry lake and the birth of hot rodding–though not by that name, yet. The Southern California Timing Association (SCTA), the first “umbrella” organization gathering dozens of already existing roadster clubs, was formed in early 1938.

Also, for me, it’s time for something a little simpler. It just is. So what I decided to do was another “one proof sheet” column. That is, all the photos you see here today came from one roll of 35mm film, in this case 35 exposures, contact-printed (actual film size) on one 8 x 10 sheet of photo paper. These are analogous to thumbnails on your computer. They’re about an inch wide, and you really need a loupe magnifier to see them clearly.

So I went to my files, opened a drawer marked B&W Negs, and then selected a file marked “Early Lakes.” There were about 100 proof sheets in it. But I know what most of them are, and what I was looking for–an old one with notes written on the back. I’m really not into doing research this week.

I found it quickly, and the first note on the back said, “All photos ’39-’40.”

But a quick scan through them showed me that wasn’t quite correct, since the photo above was listed as “Strokers club from Whittier/La Habra at Irvine Park ’47(?). All cars raced lakes, too.” That’s probably correct. You’ll note all are A and ’32 Ford roadsters. There were more in other shots. And I’m pretty sure this was Frank Currie’s club, and also pretty sure that’s who had all these photos and let me copy them with my camera. Besides building 9-inch Ford rearends, Frank was a consummate hot rodder all his life.

I should also explain that (a) I shot this roll of film, developed it, printed the proof sheet, and wrote the notes on the back 45 years ago. Wish I had a loupe that would sharpen my memory. And (b) not only are some of the notes hard to read, but some photos don’t have any. But given those caveats, let’s just dive in. This will be primarily a picture show, and I’ll relate what I know (or don’t) as we go.

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