Apogees

‘56 Lincoln. (Photo by Jim Donnelly.)


‘61 Pontiac. (Photo by Richard Lentinello.)

My January 2012 issue of Classic Car magazine has me blogging yet again.
They featured two of the greatest cars of my youth: —A) the 1956 Lincoln, and —B) the 1961 Pontiac.
It’s their Editor-in-Chief, Richard Lentinello; obviously a boomer who grew up the same time I did, and loves the cars I do.
The ’56 Lincoln, outrageous as it is, was the most successful rendering of middle ‘50s gauche styling.
The ’61 Pontiac, to me, is the greatest Pontiac ever marketed.

’57 Lincoln.

Compare the ’57 Lincoln (at left), caving to the pressure of four headlights and fins.
“I got it, JB. We just flare out the tops of those rear fenders, and we’ll have fins.
And we can graft four headlights onto the front of the car if we make ‘em vertical.”
During the early ‘50s Lincoln found itself competing with Oldsmobile, a step down from its avowed mission.
To compete with Cadillac, the Lincoln would have to be made longer and lower and much larger.
It was a huge investment, but Ford succeeded.
The Lincoln wins.
It’s far more dramatic than the Cadillac, which was reduced to getting by on chrome and its reputation.
Now, to just get Cadillac buyers to try a Lincoln.
The Lincoln looked more state-of-the-art than Cadillac, which was essentially the grand ’54 rehashed.
’54, ’55 and ’56 are all pretty much the same car.
I remember driving a ’55 in college during a blizzard.
It was amazingly sure-footed, a comfortable land-barge.
The roads were slippery, but I goosed it once.
The back end slewed out in a ponderously slow drift.
“Are you sure you want me drivin’ this thing?” I asked the owner. “I’m used to Chevrolets. It’s your baby!”
Would a ’56 Lincoln be the same?
I hope so.
It sure looked better, even if a bit outrageous.
Gauche styling conservatively rendered.
It’s those headlights and rear fenders.
Automotive styling in the mid-‘50s was outrageous, yet the Lincoln looked pretty good.
The ’56 Lincoln looks fabulous; they ruined it for 1957.
By 1961 Pontiac had become a performance brand.
It was corporate-head Bunkie Knudson (“NOOD-sin”), brought in to make over a grandmother’s car.
Supposedly making it a performance-car would make it appeal to young people.
Which it did, and I was one.
In 1961 I was in eleventh-grade in high-school.
1960 was the ultimate manifestation of Pontiac as a land-barge.
Grand and huge.

‘59 Pontiac.

Yet very well done compared to 1959 (at left), which was ugly.
But for 1961 the General wanted to make its cars smaller-looking, and dispense with the wrap-around windshield.
And lurking beneath the hood of a Pontiac could be a high-performance motor. Pontiac had a penchant for triple two-barrel carburetion.
For 1961 Pontiac had to be restyled, yet still look like a performance-car.
Lean!
They pulled it off successfully.
The ’61 Pontiac is the best-looking Pontiac ever marketed.
And you could get it with a four-speed floor-shift, which is what this car is.
A triple-carbureted four-speed ’61 Pontiac, even more desirable, to me, than an early G-T-O.
(And the ’64 G-T-O is the best G-T-O.)
And that’s despite the ’61 Pontiac’s vestigial wrap-around windshield.
Like lower door extensions in the ‘40s over what used to be running-boards.
General Motors always seemed to be transitioning.
Why not dump the wrap-around windshield, with its stupid knee-bashing dog-leg?
And look at those wheels, a special option only Pontiac had.
I think the wheel-centers were cast aluminum, and the wheel-rims bolted to that.
I never knew how the wheel-centers attached to the hubs. Perhaps that’s under the hubcaps.
Those wheels were a lighter-weight racing application, and looked great.
The ’61 Pontiac looked so good I tried to interest my father into buying one.
I was loudly denounced as a despicable sinner. Our family always bought sensible Chevrolets. Used too.
A new car would be of-the-Devil.
A high-school friend’s father bought a new ’62 Pontiac, not as successful looking as the ’61, but still a strong performer with an enviable reputation.
My friend used to drive it flat-out through stop-signs at night.
Despite that, he never smashed up — I guess he was lucky.
That Pontiac was the perfect lawn-job. Back up onto the lawn of a target, and spin the rear drive-tires, tearing up the grass.
My friend went on to work at Pontiac as an engineer — he made a life-long career of Pontiac performance.
And to me the ’61 Pontiac was the apogee.
(Now Pontiac is gone.)

• I’m not a “boomer” (post-war baby-boom). 1944, pre-boomer.
• “The General” is General Motors.
• My parents were tub-thumping born-again Christians.