The house I grew up in was built in 1913, in that murky era between horses and cars, when a homebuilder had to decide which way the transportation winds were blowing. The man who built the house evidently believed cars were a fad, so he constructed a barn behind the house. My father was always trying to park his too-big car in a too-small stall, like someone struggling into a too-tight pair of pants. Half the back end hung out. While the barn was a bust, storage-wise it was ideal, handily absorbing the flotsam and jetsam of my parents’ lives. Growing up, I spent many a rainy Saturday in that old barn mining for gold.

When my wife and I bought our first home, I began to fill the garage with all manner of useful items over my wife’s objections. We have five bicycles. Their tires are flat, their frames coated with dust, their chains rusted to the sprockets. But it’s nothing a bicycle pump and a squirt of WD-40 can’t fix. I have four bicycle pumps and three cans of WD-40. Supplies aren’t the problem; expectations are. If I fix the bikes, my wife will expect me to repair everything else and sell it all on Craigslist, which I have no intention of doing. There’s no sense raising her hopes only to see them dashed.

I have four lawn chairs I intend to fix just as soon as I find the time to get the webbing to repair them. I bought them 20 years ago at a garage sale. The lady selling them apparently didn’t understand their value. The seats need to be replaced, but it’s nearly impossible to find a good old-fashioned lawn chair anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve tripled in value. With CD interest rates running around 2 percent, I can’t afford not to keep them.

As a general rule, my wife avoids the garage. But every now and then she wanders in, poking around. She invariably sees something she thinks I don’t need and quizzes me about it. Like the time she came upon my watering can.

“Why do we need that?” she asked. “There’s a hole in it.”

“It’s nothing that a little duct tape can’t fix,” I said. I have six rolls, and possibly more, in an old refrigerator.

Her efforts to reform me reach a fever pitch each spring, a season customarily associated with putting things in order. Spring is my least favorite time of year.

In April my wife hints at her intentions. “Wouldn’t it be nice if there were room in the garage to park our cars,” she says. I let her remark pass. It’s only the warm-up.

In early May, always on a Saturday morning, she reminds me the town dump is having a free community day, and that we can throw away anything we want for free.

As if she has to remind me! It’s my favorite day of the year. I drive to the dump and bring back a truckload of perfectly fine stuff other people have discarded. That’s how I got my three-wheeled lawn mower with the blown engine. I’m going to fix it one of these days.

Not long ago, my wife and I were watching television at my parent’s house and a show about hoarders came on. Their houses are stacked from floor to ceiling. A psychiatrist was saying it’s a mental illness, an excuse we trot out when we don’t want to face the truth. Let’s put the blame where it belongs, on architects who 70 years ago stopped designing houses with adequate storage. My parent’s house had a full basement, a full attic, a two-story barn, and three extra rooms with no specific purpose, to be used at the homeowner’s discretion. As a consequence, my parents got along just fine. If the architect who designed our house 22 years ago knew what he was doing, my wife and I wouldn’t have to argue every spring.

The New No-Car Garage The Saturday Evening Post

“I get about seven miles to the gallon …
my son gets the other 20.”

January/February 1995

“The car’s acting up again. It hit a mailbox.”

September/October 2000

“Despite my prayers, I was led into temptation.”

January/February 2006

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I had car trouble.
I was late getting into it.”

September/October 2001

“I couldn’t repair your brakes so made the horn louder.”

September/October 1998

“I get about 22 miles per restroom!”

July 1965

Cartoons: Car Talk The Saturday Evening Post

 
 
With the help of Mayor Fiorello La Guardia, Maurice Zolotow, known more for his Broadway and Hollywood articles than transportation, describes how rapid transit came to define New York City in this excerpt from a 1945 article in the Post.

[See also: "The Looming Crisis in Mass Transit" from our Jul/Aug 2012 issue.]

Manhattan’s Daily Riot

March 10, 1945—Anything and everybody can happen on the subway in New York. Like the Bowery in the old song, the subway is today the place where they do strange things and they say strange things.

For the visitor, the subway is a bewildering experience. His eyes will be confused by the murky yellowish dimness. His ears will be racked by the crashing, clashing, grating cacophony of the trains grinding against the tracks, a noise that is magnified into thunderous reverberations by the low tunnels.

But millions of New Yorkers stolidly ride the subway to and from their jobs, and they travel—many of them standing up—an average of eighty minutes a day. The New Yorker would be perplexed if the noise and the mobs were to vanish.

As Mayor La Guardia puts it, “New York didn’t build the subways. The subways built New York.” Then he tells you that Queens was just a cow country until the subway system was extended there, and that suddenly the population quadrupled, real-estate values boomed, small civic centers grew up around each subway station, schools were built and paving laid, and apartment houses and stores and churches sprang up.

When the IRT [Interborough Rapid Transit], first of the New York subways, opened in 1904, New Yorkers greeted the new vehicles with a mixture of enthusiasm, curiosity, and fear. A hundred thousand passengers rode the IRT on opening day, and many uproariously traveled back and forth all day, just for sheer pleasure.

La Guardia sits in his office in City Hall and smiles gently when you ask him about crowds in the subway during rush hour. He has been a subway rider himself for a long time. He points to a wall map of New York City. The map is veined by the subway lines. The mayor leans back in his chair and darts his fingers at the map.

“Let me tell you this,” he says:

“Any time we don’t have crowding during the rush hour, there’ll be a receiver sitting in the mayor’s chair and New York will be a ghost town. Why, they talk about the rush hours and the crush and the noise! Why, listen, don’t you see that’s the proof of our life and vitality? Why—why, that is New York City.”

Manhattan’s Daily Riot The Saturday Evening Post

The price of electricity has gone down by two-thirds while the cost of gasoline, with taxes, has almost tripled.

It was time to revive the electric car industry. One company was already claiming remarkable savings of money and energy.

On the average, each electric car with batteries being recharged at night will use fifty dollars’ worth of juice a year. And most of the current will be drawn at off-peak hours after midnight, which means far more efficient use of generating equipment.

However, Furnas was quick to explain the limitations.

"Hey, look at the old car!" A 1920 Detroit Electric, still running in 1960.

You can’t rip engine and gas tank out of a heavy, Detroit-sized car, substitute batteries and electric motor, and expect dazzling performance. Instead of a more-than-l00-horsepower engine, you [will] have one or two electric motors delivering four to sixteen horsepower at best.So the new electric must be as small as a foreign economy car and specially engineered for lightness—glass and plastic get the call as body materials. And then you [must] settle for… forty miles per hour top speed, and ninety to 100 miles’ range per recharge.

These numbers held true for cars powered by traditional batteries. But several companies, including Union Carbide, Lockheed, Dow Chemical, General Electric, Gulf Oil, and Chrysler, were working on a more powerful source of electricity: the “fuel cell.”

The fuel cell’s efficiency is amazing. The best-designed electric-power plant, burning oil or coal to make steam to run a generator, cannot transform into electricity more than 40 per cent of the potential energy in the fuel used. Internal combustion engines are even less efficient. But fuel cells are getting close to 80 per cent under laboratory conditions and will soon do better.

The 1963 Chrysler Turbine

But for all its promise,  the electric car lost momentum. Two years later, Chrysler was off pursuing another Big Idea: the turbine engine.

The gas-turbine engine will run on any fuel that will flow through a pipe and ignite with air. Diesel and fuel oil, kerosene, white gasoline, Greasy Kid Stuff*, moonshine, and presumably even Chanel No. 5 for motorists addicted to conspicuous consumption —all will work just fine.

Chrysler is prepared to provide turbines in volume by 1966 or 1967.

[* hands up, anyone who remembers where this phrase originated—ed.]

Electric cars had apparently posed too many problems to succeed.  Turbines had too many advantages to fail:

A turbine would use about 300 pounds less metal than a conventional V-8. In a sales year such as 1963, this would amount to an aggregate saving of more than 1,000,000  tons of metal.

The turbine, with only about 60 major parts, would be far simpler and cheaper to produce.

Demand for motor oil would slacken enormously. There would be no further need for antifreezes, rust inhibitors, or special lubricants. Other casualties: pistons, rings, valves, radiators, fan belts and carburetors. Spark-plug sales would plummet— the turbine uses only one plug.

And yet… Chrysler built only 5 prototypes and 50 production models. Detroit got over its infatuation with turbines and, by 1967, was back to flirting with electric cars.

Ford and General Motors announced this fall that they were working on new electric cars, and Sen. Warren G. Magnuson (D., Wash.) introduced a bill to spend $10 million developing such a vehicle.

Once again, the automakers hoping to get consumers excited about the electric car. As they told Post author Roy Bongartz:

There is hardly anything in it or on it to wear out or go on the blink.

Gone with the engine itself are motor oil, filter, pump, and pressure gauge; pistons and rings; generator, distributor, spark plugs, air filter, radiator, water pump, hoses, antifreeze, fan and fan belt.

There is no driveshaft—thus no hump in the floor— no transmission, no starter motor, no exhaust pipe, and—of course—no exhaust.

The lovable feature of the electric is what it hasn’t got: it hasn’t got troubles.

The Corvair, electrified.

Chevrolet had already begun showing off its prototype, a version of the Corvair called the Electrovair II.

With a 115-horsepower motor weighing just 130 pounds, it could reach 60 mph in just 16 seconds.

The top speed is 80. Though it weighs 800 pounds more than the Corvair, the car was engineered to equal Corvair performance except in range: Electrovair II’s range is only 80 miles.

As it turned out the electric car was left in long-term parking for over 50 years, along with other auto innovations like—

• the driverless car, which is “guided by a continuous cable… on the roadway [that] communicates with a computer in the car… to control steering and speed.”

• the air-cushioned car, like the Ford Levacar, which rode on a friction-free cushion of air.

• the single-control design: “the ‘Unicontrol’… a short gear stick that controls the acceleration and deceleration, steering and braking of a car.”

The 1962 GM Firebird III Turbine with Unicontrol.

Where did they all go? Why did none of them ever reach regular production? Why did automotive technology remain virtually unchanged for over a century?

It’s easy to say the automakers didn’t want to change, but that wouldn’t explain the money and time they poured into developing new vehicles.

Some have argued that the oil companies suppressed any technology that would reduce the nation’s dependence on petroleum.

A less fanciful but more plausible explanation is that very few consumers are “Early Adapters,” as Geoffrey Moore described them in his book, “Crossing The Chasm.” Most Americans won’t buy new technology—no matter how amazing it is—until they see its immediate benefits. As long as gasoline hovered around $2.00 a gallon, and the cost of gas-powered vehicles remained affordable, the couldn’t see any advantage in more for an electric car.

POST script:

You probably noticed 1960 price of gasoline above (31¢). The Department of Energy has an interesting graph that adjusts the price of gasoline to 2004 dollars (when *sigh* gas was still less than $2.00 a gallon.) Their figures show that the low price of gasoline (“Current $ Gas Price”) across the 20th Century, was actually not so inexpensive when translated into modern costs (“Constant $ Gas Price).

The Long Delayed Future of the Automobile The Saturday Evening Post

Reason: Today this country burns through 21 million barrels of oil per day, 60 percent of which is imported. Only with some shared economic pain will we ever change our habits.

High gas prices will force us to think before we drive. It will encourage mass transit use, car pooling, and the sale of more fuel-efficient cars.

The auto industry will not suffer because it has learned that it can charge more for cars that are cheaper to build if those cars have a few luxury touches.

Individuals will spend more dollars on gasoline, even factoring in the reduced usage, but American motorists are notoriously inefficient and have traditionally done an awful job of planning their errand runs.

Average families will feel the pain, but, in my view, a move to less-expensive beer and other consumer goods should go a long way toward softening this inconvenience.

Drivers who own gas-guzzling pickup trucks will be motivated to carpool or take mass transit where it’s available.

Because mass transit is not as widely available as it should be, much of the gas price increase would be allocated to improving our railroads and creating more bus lanes.

As for diesel fuel, I would leave it at its current price of $4 a gallon. Yes, that will encourage the sale of diesel vehicles, but despite the hue and cry of environmentalists about all things diesel, those cars today are just as fuel efficient as the gas-burning kind.

Large diesel trucks, of course, must remain because they deliver the majority of the goods we consume.

My proposition is simple enough. Higher fuel prices mean less fuel consumed, and that means cleaner air and reduced dependence on imported fossil fuels.

A tough proposal? Sure. But Americans are a tough people capable of making hard decisions when it comes to spending.

The opinions expressed in “The Contrarian View” do not represent those of The Saturday Evening Post.

Gas Should Be More Expensive The Saturday Evening Post

Ah, the 1950s—when cars had tail fins and being a female driver was a bad thing. Wives gabbed incessantly and husbands were unsociable grumps. Obviously, the ’50s stereotypes are not what we’d call politically correct today—we’ll let you judge if they still tickle your funny bone.

"How’s the new car?"
From February 21, 1959

Did we really have to tell you the decade here?

"Now forward."
From January 2, 1954

Well, how else will you know when to stop?

"Good Heavens! It IS Herbert!"
From January 1, 1955

There’s always a critic.

"Fred will be mighty sorry he missed you, Miss Vogleswinner."
From September 28, 1957

And she means that sincerely.

From April 1, 1950

No extra charge for the knee shine.

From July 3, 1954

This is a scene you’d really love to see three seconds later.

"Hope you'll excuse the service, sir.
One of our men is home sick."
November 25, 1950

Customer service is definitely not what it used to be.

Cartoons: The 1950s The Saturday Evening Post

“Women, Auto & Mechanic” by Karl Anderson

"Women, Auto & Mechanic"
by Karl Anderson
From March 26, 1904

These well-dressed ladies from a 1904 cover seem to be in need of a mechanic. Love those tires!

“The Fur Coat” by John Sheridan

"The Fur Coat"
by John Sheridan
From January 5, 1918

This beautiful cover from 1918 was by artist John Sheridan. Magazine covers such as this one gave a glance into a lifestyle most Americans could not otherwise imagine. This issue was full of the ongoing dreadful news of WWI. It also contained a great deal of fiction and a surprising number of car ads, including the ad below for the “Rex” automobile.

“REX Automobile Ad” from January 5,1918

"REX Automobile Ad"
From January 5,1918

If you love old car ads, see “Have You Heard of These Classic Cars?”

“Caught in the Rain” by Albert W. Hampson

"Caught in the Rain"
by Albert W. Hampson
From August 29, 1936

“4 Wheels—No Brakes” is written on top of this jalopy from 1936. Apparently, there is no top, either. Love the facial expressions—clearly the young lady has had better dates.

“Ford V-8 Ad from 1936″

"Ford V-8 ad"
from August 1936

Much nicer than the brakeless heap with no top was the Ford V-8, as shown in this beautiful ad from August 1936.

“Parallel Parking” by Thornton Utz

"Parallel Parking"
by Thornton Utz
from April 1,1950

Post editors asked artist Thornton Utz if the lady behind the wheel on this 1950 cover might be his wife. He recoiled in horror: “Oh no! Don’t say that!” The editors, who loved to tease cover artists, countered with something about women drivers in general. The artist begged that they not say that, either. Whoever the anonymous lady was, she was clearly determined to nab that last parking spot in front of the market.

“Packard Automobile Ad” from April 1, 1950

"Packard Automobile Ad"
from April 1, 1950

Among the car ads in that issue was this one for a 1950 Packard Eight Deluxe 135-HP Touring Sedan:

If you want to see some beautiful old Packard ads, see our piece on “Classic Car Ads: The Packard”

“Backup Collision” by Stevan Dohanos

"Backup Collision"
by Stevan Dohanos
From August 4, 1956

It’s easy enough to see how this could happen. Love the depiction of 1956 suburbia, including the man with the push mower. He seems to be wisely staying out of it. Unless one of the drivers is his wife and he is simply in shock.

“Speeder on the Median” by Richard Sargent

"Speeder on the Median"
by Richard Sargent
From June 2, 1962

It wouldn’t be so bad if the guy on the mower wasn’t so smug-looking. Oh, who are we kidding? Even without the “Excuse My Dust” smirk on the mower’s face, it is still discouraging to have your zippy roadster—shall we say—“outclipped” by a lawnmower.

Our Love for Cars The Saturday Evening Post

The original Mother Shipton was a freelance oracle of the 16^th century, who became famous when a book of her prophecies appeared 80 years after her death. In 1873, she got famous all over again when a new book of her prophecies appeared, now written in rhyming couplets.

Skeptics thought these newly discovered prophecies fit the 1800s a little too well. There were obvious references to locomotives (“Carriages without horses shall go/ 
And accidents fill the world with woe”), steamships (“Iron in the water shall float/ As easily as a wooden boat”), the telegraph (“Around the world thoughts shall fly/
In the twinkling of an eye”), and the California gold rush (“Gold shall be found and shown/
In a land that’s now not known.”)

Of course, we shouldn’t think less of a prophecy just because it tells us what has already happened. All the best prophecies work this way. It’s how Nostradamus became such a reliable forecaster. But Nostradmus was a professional; he wrote his predictions in a poetic style that could fit several events. Mother Shipton was an amateur who made an unmistakable declaration:  ”The world to an end shall come/ 
In eighteen hundred and eighty one.”

It was just too clear to be credible. Her new book was greeted with blistering criticism and sarcasm. The publisher soon admitted he’d admitted writing the entire book himself. Despite his public admission, the prediction gained currency, particularly as the year 1881 began. In February, the Post observed,

There are lots of people who will tell you that they put no faith in Mother Shipton’s prophecy that the world will come to an end this year, and yet will jump and have a scared look in their eyes when they suddenly hear the noise caused by the dumping of a load of coal.

Over its 60 years of publishing, the Post had often reported end-of-the-world prophecies. The editors were not impressed with this latest prognostication.

Mother Shipton and her prophecies are still in authority in parts of Canada. In one county several farmers have neglected putting in their crops because of their firm belief that the world will come to an end this year.  [July 2]

A newspaper agent, being told by an old lady that it was no use to subscribe for the papers now, as Mother Shipton said the world was coming to an end this year, said, “But won’t you want to read an account of the whole affair as soon as it is over. ‘That I will,” answered the old lady; and she subscribed. [July 30]

Another visionary authority unites with Mother Shipton in pronouncing that the end of the world will take place in this year of grace, 1881. In the fourteenth century, Aretino, an Italian author, fixed in his writings the exact date of the end of the world. According to this distinguished authority, the destruction of the earth and its inhabitants will occupy fifteen days. The cataclysm will begin by an uprising of the water. The human race, before perishing, will lose the power of speech. All will be dead before the final day—the 15^th of November. These old authors, it would seem, were terrible jokers. [June 23]

Terrible jokers, indeed. Aretino was a notorious satirist and pornographer of 16^th century Rome who reportedly laughed himself to death.

A young lady, recently married, read Mother Shipton’s prophecy for the first time the other day. “Just my luck!” she exclaimed, throwing down the paper, “here I am newly married, and now the world’s coming to an end.”  [November 30]

All too soon, the year was over and, from all we can tell, the world didn’t end. But where Mother Shipton’s forecast of doom had fallen, several others stepped forward to takes its place.

Mother Shipton’s prophecy having failed to bring about the end of the world at the appointed time, another very old prediction is now brought forward. It is expressed in a French stanza, and clearly proves the end of the world in 1886.

Devout Moslems confidently predict the end of the world on November 8 [1886], the close of the Mohammedan thirteenth century. A proclamation has been issued from Mecca warning all true believers to prepare for the coming day [when] the sun shall rise in the West, the day of mercy and forgiveness shall cease, and that of judgment and retribution begin.

We now know that the world will end next year, thanks to the 2100-year-old Mayan calendar. Unfortunately, this prediction relies on the Western calendar, which has been continually revised over the past two millenia. Such fine points will make no difference, however, since the world will end on December 31, when our own calendars will run out of pages.

Mother Shipton Oldsmobile Ad

The World Comes To An End. Again. The Saturday Evening Post

With gasoline at 17¢ a gallon, and new Ford sedans available for a mere $450, Nina Wilcox Putnam told Post readers there was never a better time to drive to California.

The best bargain on the American market today is a trip across the country, which can now be had for practically the same price as staying at home.

Automobiles in 1931, she reports in her Post article, “What’ll It Cost Me To Drive To the Coast?” have greatly improved over the past ten years. When she first drove from New York to California in 1921—

I carried spare parts enough to make up a second car, including new magneto points, and used every darned one of them before the first California real ­estate salesman was sighted.

The roads are better, too. Back in 1921, she says, you wouldn’t think of driving across the western states without an axe “for chopping brush to get you out of gumbo roads during Missouri rainstorms” and an extra set of suspension springs “because you were practically certain to break a spring on what were playfully nick­named ‘roads’ in Arizona.”

But even in 1931, Porter says, you had better bring  better along a length of strong tow-rope, and a waterbag to hang on the front of the car so you won’t run out of water in the desert.

“And ah, yes, I almost forgot a water­proof tarpaulin. No matter how good the trunk on the back of your car, take it from me you’d better cover it with a tarpaulin. It’s a big square of treated canvas, and it really does prevent dust and moisture from working into the luggage and ruining that one good suit or dress which you’re taking along in case you feel like changing some night at a stylish hotel.

The modern driver of 1931 now has a choice of cross-country routes. Most travelers take the National Road, which runs from Atlantic City to San Francisco, but she recommends a new route between Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles.

If you are sick of cities and want a vacation from them; if you are tired of passing trucks and of being held up by traffic stop lights, let me submit the new Midland Trail. I’ll guarantee you’ll hardly meet a truck, see an advertising sign or lose a moment through traffic sig­nals.

But let’s return to the question in Putnam’s title: just how much does it cost to drive from New York in California in 1931. Before she started, a New York travel agent had told her—

“With a small car it will cost you five cents a mile, including good but not fashion­able hotels, food, gas and oil, and ordi­nary running repairs. We figure it will take you nine days.”

When she reached her destination outside Los Angeles, Putnam found that she had actually spent a little less than the predicted $165.

Before there were motels, travellers stopped overnight at rustic motor camps, whose comfort level can be guessed by the picture above.

That’s a sizeable figure for a year when unemployment had risen to 16% and was continuing to climb. Yet it’s fairly inexpensive for nine days of sightseeing, hotels, and meals.Yet you could take the same trip for much less today.

Adjusted for 80 years of inflation, $1.00 in 1931 has the purchasing power of $14.50 today. So Putnam’s trip cost her the equivalent of $2,392 in 2011 dollars.

Today, the drive from New York to Los Angeles is 500 miles shorter. Using the gas prices of this last week, AAA’s fuelcostcalculator.aaa.com, determines that a new, inexpensive car (comparable to what Putnam drove) would consume $440 in gas. Furthermore, you wouldn’t need nine days to cover that distance. While I’ve known people who drove that distance in a heroic, three-day marathon, I’ll allow a modern driver six days (450 miles/day) and a daily allowance of $80 for hotels and $50 for food.

The total cost would be $1,220. Divide that number by 14.50 to reverse inflation, and the price in 1931 dollars, would be $84.

Even with the price of gasoline so high today, our per-mile cost has dropped from 5¢ to 3¢ in 80 years. This doesn’t even factor in the three days saved by driving modern highways in more dependable cars—and three days is just as valuable in 2011 as in 1931.

The Cross-Country Drive: Cheap In 1931, Cheaper In 2011 The Saturday Evening Post

Studebaker Car Ad March 26, 1910

Studebaker Car AdMarch 26, 1910

This 1910 ad is the first Studebaker ad we could find in The Saturday Evening Post. The Studebaker brothers opened a blacksmith shop in South Bend, Indiana on February 16, 1852. The California Gold Rush proved to be a boom for this wagon business, as was a contract to supply Union army wagons (who knew there were “Studebakers” in the Civil War?). It was a natural transition to the motor coach, if that new-fangled horseless carriage fad can be called natural. From wagons and buggies to classy and classic vehicles with motors, Studebaker history reflects a century of transportation change.

Studebaker Car Ad July 5, 1919

Studebaker Car Ad July 5, 1919

By the time this ad appeared in July of 1919, the five Studebaker brothers had all passed away. Production of vehicles such as this seven-passenger “Big Six” was overseen in part by sons and sons-in-law. Car ads were already appealing to the ladies, as we can see a group of women here about to take the Big Six on an excursion. It was priced at $1,985.

Studebaker Car Ad May 28, 1927

Studebaker Car AdMay 28, 1927

This beautiful 1927 ad is for a Studebaker Commandeer, the “Greatest post-war engineering achievement.” This handsome model boasted nickel-plated bumpers and something called “no-draft ventilating windshield (exclusively Studebaker).” Dig the “full-size balloon tires”. Modern features such gasoline gauge on dash, interior dome light and automatic windshield cleaner show that the horseless carriage had come a long way.

Studebaker Car Ad June 29, 1934

Studebaker Car AdJune 9, 1934

This 1934 ad is a work of art in itself. Notice the price has declined dramatically – starting at $685. These “lowest priced Studebakers in history” are the result of the economic Depression and refined manufacturing methods. No more building one car at a time. Even the lowest-priced cars were a tough sell in that economy, but by 1933 Studebaker was back in the black and expanding dealerships.

Studebaker Car Ad October 10, 1936

Studebaker Car Ad< October 10, 1936

The low-price years continue with this 1937 model. Boasting the “winged victory radiator grilles” and capacious trunks, these classics start at $665.

Studebaker Truck Ad August 10, 1946

Studebaker Truck AdAugust 10, 1946

Studebaker didn’t only produce cars, but that workingman’s friend, the truck. And the vehicles were not only built in South Bend (where there remains a Studebaker museum today), but in plants in Detroit and Canada

Studebaker CG Car Ad September 1948

Studebaker Car AdSeptember 1948

We found this bright red “Studebaker Commander Starlight Coupe” in the September 1948 issue of Country Gentleman magazine, a sister publication at the time. This “respected North Dakota grain grower” is showing off his 900-acre farm and declaring he is “mighty proud of his farm and his new Studebaker”.

Alas, by the 1950’s, Studebaker’s star was fading, in spite of merging with the more financially sound Packard. But stay tuned, folks, we have some beautiful Packard ads to show you next time.

In the November 1962 Post writer Arthur W. Baum relates that Studebaker “now makes fewer automobiles than an other of the five major U.S. firms, little more than one in every 100 of the industry’s total of 6,000,000. In the last half-dozen years Studebaker has enjoyed only one substantially profitable year. The company concedes that about one-quarter of the country has no Studebaker dealers.” The slick new “Avanti” notwithstanding, they were not making the dent in a market dominated by the Chevrolet Corvette and Ford Thunderbird. By the end of 1963, the South Bend plant, which had begun 111 years previously as a blacksmith shop forging metal parts for wagons. In 1966, the remaining plant in Ontario closed.

A Century of Studebaker The Saturday Evening Post

Packard Car Ad – April 25, 1903

Packard Car Ad
April 25, 1903

The first Packard ad in The Saturday Evening Post appears to be from April 25, 1903. J. W. Packard, his brother and a partner founded the company in Warren, Ohio in 1900. Cars were built one at a time in these years of automotive infancy. In fact, Packard partner, G.L. Weiss had been a major investor in the Winton Motor Carriage Company and owned Winton #4. (Imagine having a car with the serial number “4”). Five Model A Packards were built in that first year of 1900. To show what the 1900 Model A could do, partner G.L. Weiss and Packard made a highly touted test: they drove it from Cleveland to Buffalo in 13 ½ hours. Of course, the under 200-mile journey would take a little over three hours now, but this was still the horse and buggy era, with very few paved roads. As a promotion for the new car, the feat was a success.

Packard Car Ad – September 18, 1926

Packard Car Ad
September 18, 1926

This gorgeous ad from 1926 suggests the grace and agility of a thoroughbred. A 1932 ad had an oriental scene at the top to show how Packard was supreme in over sixty countries. In Shanghai, “Packard cars outnumber—by more than two to one—all other makes of comparable price combined”. Automobile ads were becoming a work of art themselves. As were the autos.

Packard Car Ad – March 17, 1928

Packard Car Ad
March 17, 1928

Packard ads of this era liked to tell us a story from history – in this case, the ancient forging of the 105-foot high bronze statue of Helios in 280 B.C., and then show how they carry on the grand tradition. “In one of the world’s most modern foundries Packard precision parts first take form under scientific control. Every detail of temperature and the blending and pouring of metals into the intricate moulds is carefully checked.” However it was created, the resulting convertible is a thing of beauty. Prices in this 1928 ad range from $2,275 to $4,550 with “individual custom models from $5,200 to $8,970, at Detroit”.

Packard Car Ad – March 25, 1939

Packard Car Ad
March 25, 1939

“Three American Faces You Know at a Glance” this ad confidently touts. “A 1939 Packard presents to the world one of the proudest and most distinguished faces that ever graced a motor car.” This was the new Packard Six. Remember: “When you drive a Packard, the whole world knows it’s a Packard”. Gotta love that grill.

Packard Car Ad – July 7, 1941

Packard Car Ad
July 7, 1941

By the 40’s, the car was more streamlined in style, like this Packard Clipper from 1941. This 4-door sedan would set you back $1,375. This featured “fade-away fenders”, front fenders that “fade” into the center of the car. “It’s beautiful—and permits increased body width with no increase in overall car width”, the ad noted.

Packard Car Ad – Wizard of Ah’s

Packard Car Ad
Wizard of Ah's

By 1948, the proud Packard was even sleeker. Love the copy: “Designed by the Wizard of “Ah’s!” Cars are getting smarter: “Press a button and the top lowers or raises. Another button moves the front seat forward or backward! And ALL four windows have magic push-button control!” If you were looking for more of a family car, no doubt you were more inclined to the “Station Sedan” at the bottom of the page. “All steel, finished in Northern Birch”.

The Packard is still “with us” not only through these old ads but through a number of Packard clubs around the world today.

Classic Car Ads: The Packard The Saturday Evening Post

Stearns Car Ad – August 27, 1910

Stearns Car Ad
August 27, 1910

Just how many people can you fit in a Stearns? This beautiful ad from 1910 declared “The Stearns is a Car for Every Purpose”. Priced at $3,200 to $4,600 it was suitable for every purpose the wealthy had. The F. B. Stearns Company was out of Cleveland, Ohio.

Rauch & Lang Car Ad – 1910

Rauch & Lang Car Ad
1910

It is encouraging that this car is “safe for women and children” (we hate losing those along the way). This is an electric car from 1910 and, don’t worry, the ad assures us “it will go as far on one charge as you will ever care to ride in a day”. And please note: “Any woman can run the car safely.” The Rauch & Long Carriage Company was also out of Cleveland.

Cole 8 Car Ad – June 5, 1915

Cole 8
June 5, 1915

This eight-cylinder beauty retailed at $1,785 according to this 1915 ad. How they got all eight charming young ladies in the vehicle is not clear, but there they all are, setting up a lovely picnic. Advertisers were targeting the female audience already. Cole Motor Car Company was out of Indianapolis.

National Car Ad – January 1, 1918

National Car Ad
January 1, 1918

Also out of Indianapolis was National Motor Car & Vehicle Corp. I love the wording of the first paragraph of this ad: “There is in the new twelve-cylinder National Touring Sedan (convertible) a multiplicity of virtues which may well excite admiration”. They don’t write ad copy like that anymore. Touting the “staunchness” of an “airplane type motor” and showing a woman pointing to the sky tells us that planes were quite the rage in 1918.

Jeffery Car Ad – March 4, 1916

Jeffery Car Ad
March 4, 1916

Admit it, you’ve never heard of a Jeffery Sedan and here it was “the car which popularized year-round motoring”. Who knew? The ad notes, “Just as in 1915 few bought a car that was not self-starting, so in 1916 few will buy a car without an enclosed body of the Sedan type. Both are matters of motoring convenience and luxury which become indispensable as soon as they have become known.” I must indeed admit that I am completely spoiled for an enclosed car with no crank to start it up. The Thomas B. Jeffery Company was out of Kenosha, Wisconsin.

Hupmobile Car Ad – August 24, 1918

Hupmobile Car Ad
August 24, 1918

This is an ad that really shows you what was going on in the world. It is 1918 and soldiers are driving this Hupmobile onto an airstrip. Biplanes are everywhere. Although Hupmobile is obviously trying to sell automobiles, the line at the top loyally states: “By far the most patriotic thing you can do with your earnings now is to invest the in War Savings Stamps.” Hupmobiles were manufactured in Detroit.

Dort Car Ad – January 5, 1918

Dort Car Ad
January 5, 1918

1918 was wartime and car dealers were patriotic. “Thou shalt not waste! It is the modern commandment born of the great worldwide struggle to preserve liberty and perpetuate democracy!” Professional men and the ever-present soldier are checking out this Dort, “built for service without waste”. Dort Motor Car Company was out of Flint, Michigan.

Have You Heard of These Classic Cars? The Saturday Evening Post

Speeding Oldsters by Wm. Meade Prince

Speeding Oldsters
Wm. Meade Prince
July 18, 1925
© SEPS.

“Henry! I TOLD you we were going too fast!” Who knew there were motorcycle cops in 1925? Well, there’s one in this rear-view mirror. The Country Gentleman magazine was a sister publication to The Saturday Evening Post. On this cover, Henry is clearly having the time of his life, tooling along at thirty miles per hour. Fun’s over, buddy.

Elderly Couple in Automobile by Robert Robinson

Elderly Couple in Automobile
Robert Robinson
January 11, 1913
© SEPS.

What is with the oldsters these days? At least the men. We’ve shown you some delightful old codgers by artist Robert Robinson in the past, and this one has a lead foot. And he’s scaring the wits out of the Mrs. She has a restraining hand on his arm, but seems too scared to say anything. But just wait and see if the old fool gets his supper tonight.

Exhilaration by Norman Rockwell

Exhilaration
Norman Rockwell
July 13, 1935
© SEPS.

Who’s enjoying the speeding now? Rockwell turns the tables and shows a young lady who is thrilled at the wild rumble seat ride. The dog, too, seems to enjoy the wind in his ears. The poor guy, however, is just trying to hang on to his hat. If you slow down enough to read the cover notes, you’ll see that the Post boasted some pretty impressive writers, too.

Excuse My Dust by Norman Rockwell

Excuse My Dust
Norman Rockwell
July 31, 1920
© SEPS.

This family is pretty impressed that their Ford is outrunning the fancy-schmancy, more expensive car. The models were the Campion family from New Rochelle, where Norman Rockwell lived. Rockwell often used friends and neighbors for his paintings. Dave Campion ran a news store. We would have loved to see the customer’s faces when they purchased their copy of the Post with Mr. Campion speeding by on the cover! We’ll see him again.

World’s Fair or Bust by John E. Sheridan

World's Fair or Bust
John E. Sheridan
April 22, 1939
© SEPS.

Love this colorful cover. Apparently there was something going on in New York in 1939, and the men in the yellow car are in a hurry to get there – “World’s Fair or Bust”. The lady in the other car evidently didn’t “bust,” we’re happy to report, and is returning from the fair. Let’s hope the speeding guys don’t get bust–ed. Okay, that’s a reach, but I couldn’t help but notice that the long arm of the law awaits (below).

Welcome to Elmville by Norman Rockwell

Welcome to Elmville
Norman Rockwell
April 20, 1929
© SEPS.

Meet the long arm of the law. Look familiar? The squinty eyes threw me off, but it’s our old buddy Dave Campion, taking time off from his newsstand once again to pose for Rockwell (see Excuse My Dust above). The idea for the painting came from a real-life incident. Rockwell was traveling through Amenia, New York “back in the days when towns paid their taxes with speeders’ fines, and the Amenia cop really nailed me—right along the welcome sign!” So as you bemoan your speeding ticket, dear reader, remember that you are in good company.

Classic Covers: The Art of Speeding The Saturday Evening Post

What is the value of a lovely oak tree that brings beauty and nature to a man’s front yard? For decades the tree stood strong, and the Fisher family enjoyed it season 
after season—until a reckless driver hit 
it, resulting in extensive damage that 
eventually killed the mighty oak.

For Mr. Fisher, the value was incalculable. There was no way for him to replace the magnificent oak, but in an effort to seek justice, he filed a tort action against Ms. Lowe, who was operating the car, and Mr. Moffett who owned the car. Mr. Fisher also sued their insurance company.

The accident occurred in Michigan 
where there is “no-fault” insurance. And tort liability for “noneconomic loss” caused by the “ownership, maintenance, or use 
of a motor vehicle” is allowed when “the 
injured person has suffered death, serious impairment of body function, or permanent serious disfigurement.”

But what about “permanent serious 
disfigurement” suffered by a beloved tree?

The trial court ruled in favor of the defendants, pursuant to Michigan’s No-Fault 
Insurance Law. Unfortunately for Mr. Fisher, the statute makes it poetically clear:

There was no liability,

Since No-Fault grants immunity.

Mr. Fisher refused to be felled by the lower court, so he appealed to a higher branch. Judge Gillis wrote the opinion for the Michigan Court of Appeals, with a nod to Joyce Kilmer’s famous poem, “Trees”:

We thought that we would never see

A suit to compensate a tree.

A suit whose claim in tort is prest

Upon a mangled tree’s behest;

A tree whose battered trunk was prest

Against a Chevy’s crumpled crest;

A tree that faces each new day

With bark and limb in disarray;

A tree that may forever bear

A lasting need for tender care.

Flora lovers though we three,

We must uphold the court’s decree.

Fisher v. Lowe, 333 N.W. 2d 67

(Mich.Ct.App.1983)

Only God Can Make a Tree The Saturday Evening Post

History Highway

The Historic National Road

In 1806 Thomas Jefferson approved federal funding for one of the first interstate road projects. Known today as the Historic National Road, it stretches 824 miles through six states, from the East Coast nearly to the Mississippi, following the modern I-70 for much of its length.

As befits the route that made the westward migration possible for thousands of settlers, the Road is strewn with sites of historical interest. From the eastern terminus near Hollins Market, the oldest of Baltimore’s public markets and centerpiece of the artsy Union Square neighborhood (market open Tuesday-Saturday; www.union-square.us), you’ll pass Casselman River Bridge State Park, as well as historic inns and tollhouses. From Maryland, the Road swings west through southern Pennsylvania, with a stop at the Fort Necessity National Battlefield, site of the first battle of the French and Indian War. The Old Petersburg Tollhouse, built from native-cut stone, still stands along the roadside.

On the National Road, Maryland's Casselman River Bridge was once the longest of its kind in the U.S.
Photo: Lardner/Klein Landscape Architects, Jim Klein

Passing through a corner of West Virginia, the Road continues into Ohio, where you can ponder the changes in American transportation at the Aviation Heritage National Historical Park in Dayton (www.aviationheritagearea.org). Cut across the entire breadth of Indiana, taking in the famous “Antique Alley”—an extensive loop encompassing more than 900 shops and dealers; it’s the ultimate destination for any fan of collectibles (www.visitrichmond.org). The Road ends in Illinois, the land of Lincoln. Leave time for visits to the Lincoln Log Cabin State Historic Site (www.lincolnlogcabin.org) as well as the Lincoln School Museum in Martinsville (open Sunday afternoons through the summer, 217-382-6666).

Tracing a Path

The Natchez Trace Parkway

Following what is perhaps the oldest continuously used travel route in the U.S., the Natchez Trace Parkway—
a 444-mile stretch of two-lane blacktop running south-
by-southwest from Nashville to the banks of the Mississippi—began as a dirt trail used by the earliest European traders and missionaries, and by local Native American tribes for centuries before that. Travel here was once so hazardous that the trail was called “The Devil’s Backbone.” Today, the Parkway offers the natural beauty 
and rich cultural heritage of the South. Note: Because it sits on mostly high ground, only a few areas of the Parkway were impacted by the flood waters that hit the Nashville area earlier this year. While the entire Parkway is expected to be passable by summer, it’s always a good idea to call ahead and confirm your itinerary.

Also known as "Nutt&rquo;s Folley," the octagonal mansion at Natchez&rquo;s Longwood Plantation was never completed due to a turn of fortune.
Photo by Dennis Adams

On the Parkway, two wheels are as good as four, as the entire road is a designated bicycling area. Along the way, there’s boating and fishing at Laurel Hill Lake in Lawrenceville, Tennessee (931-762-7200), and hiking, camping, and nature trails at Tishomingo State Park in Mississippi (662-438-6914). Or simply stop to smell the wildflowers tracing the trail.

The Parkway is rich in Native American historical sites. In Tupelo you will find the ceremonial Emerald Mound, the Grand Village of the Natchez, and the Chickasaw Village and Fort. You can also pay homage to “the King” at the Elvis Presley Birthplace (www.elvispresleybirthplace.com).

At the Mississippi Crafts Center in Ridgeland, you’ll find artwork and housewares from regional crafters working in traditional and contemporary forms (www.mscrafts.org). Finally, surrender to the charms of old Natchez and view gracious antebellum homes in the city’s historic district (www.natchezms.com).

Rolling on the River

Great River Road National Scenic Byway

The mighty Mississippi is, in a way, the original interstate highway, used for ages to transport goods and passengers downriver. Trace that epic path on the Great River Road National Scenic Byway—a route following the course of the Mississippi through 10 states and over 2,000 miles, from the headwaters to the delta, from St. Paul to New Orleans, straight through the heart of America.

Spend a week or two following Old Man River downstream—through Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and finally, Louisiana—and you’ll sample a great swathe of the American experience. Along with unparalleled views of the “Father of Waters,” there are ample stops for bird and wildlife watching, outdoor recreation, shopping, historical sightseeing, and more.

Beautiful old cypress trees surround a natural fish hatchery at Reelfoot Lake State park in Tiptonville, Tennessee.
Photo by Amie Vanderford.

Music runs deep along the river, and many festivals and performance series are held along the route, from Wisconsin’s Riverfest (June 30-July 4, www.riverfestlacrosse.com), presenting dozens of musical groups on six stages, to the annual blues and jazz fests in Davenport, Iowa; from the St. Louis Municipal Opera—this year featuring live outdoor performances of Beauty and the Beast, The Sound of Music, Damn Yankees, and more—to the renowned jazz clubs of New Orleans (www.riverroads.com).

Hit the Road! The Saturday Evening Post