Company chairman Henry Ford II wasn’t about to spend hundreds of millions of dollars developing an all-new car in those post-Edsel years, so Iacocca’s team chose the unassuming but proven Ford Falcon compact as the platform for their new car. Two in-house styling teams were pitted against each other and, in summer 1962, produced the winning design. An outside advertising agency worked on the name, pitching everything from “Cheetah” to “Torino.” But no name captured the team’s imagination like “Mustang.” It evoked open spaces, untamed freedom and – in the words of one executive – was “American as all hell.”

For a born salesman like Iacocca, there was only one event big enough for Mustang’s launch: the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The splashy venue ensured maximum press coverage. Customer appetites were further whetted by an enormous marketing blitz. Ads ran in 2,600 newspapers across the country, primetime TV commercials aired on all three networks, and Mustang (and Iacocca) made the covers of Time and Newsweek. “Mustang Mania” followed. Ford had hoped to sell 200,000 Mustangs in the first model year. It sold 22,000 in the first weekend. By the fall of 1965, nearly 681,000 Mustangs found buyers. It was only the beginning of a run that’s lasted more than 50 years and made Mustang into a lifestyle.

What was the secret of the Mustang’s success? It was the right car at the right time. Lee Iacocca’s instincts were dead on. Young people wanted a car that looked sporty, carried a modest price, and could be accessorized to their individual tastes. General Motors, Chrysler and AMC had nothing to match it, giving Ford a lock on an untapped market. (To be sure, Camaro, Firebird, Challenger and Javelin were soon to come.) The splashy, media-savvy debut didn’t hurt either.

For marketers, Mustang became a textbook study in promotion done right. For gearheads, it came to rival Corvette as America’s automotive icon. And for automakers, it proved once again that timing is everything, and that knowing your customers is the best business strategy of all.

About the Author

Matt Anderson is the John and Horace Dodge Curator of Transportation at The Henry Ford in Dearborn, Michigan. He oversees the development, care and interpretation of the museum’s collection of more than 275 automobiles. Matt also curates the museum’s railroad and aviation collections. He currently serves as president of the National Association of Automobile Museums. Matt has previously worked at the B&O Railroad Museum in Baltimore, Maryland; the Studebaker National Museum in South Bend, Indiana; and the Minnesota Historical Society in St. Paul, Minnesota.

About the Series

This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

The post The Ford Mustang: The Right Car at the Right Time appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

With the exception of the 1991 c.c. engine carried over from the Traction Avant, almost everything visible and invisible on this car was utterly new and radically different.  A front/mid-engine layout moved front wheels that were wider than the rear.  The front of the car had no grill, but a shallow nose slot; its bobtail rear was marked by turn signals fixed to the roof, which in turn were flanked by removable fenders graced by spats.  A fiberglass green roof rendered the car as a glass house that featured comfortable front seats. For safety, the DS 19 had a one-spoke steering wheel wrapped in plastic cord.

What made the DS 19 different than any other car on the road, however, was a self-leveling independent suspension made possible by an engine-driven pump and two bulbous accumulators. This complex system employed both an organic liquid and nitrogen gas at 2,400 pounds per square inch, thus enabling the car to be raised and lowered as well as assisting a semi-automatic transmission and inboard disc brakes. The result was a car that glided over the countryside. In sum, the DS 19 is as distinctively French as a French car can be.

The Citroën DS 19 changed the world. Many of its innovative features were later adopted by other manufacturers. Most significantly, however, was that in an age increasingly characterized by global interrelatedness and uniformity, the DS 19 stood for individuality and difference.

About the Author

John Heitmann is a Professor of History at the University of Dayton and the author of The Automobile and American Life and Stealing Cars Technology and Society from the Model T to Gran Torino.  His is a Past President of the Society of Automobile historians.  He has a passion for all things automotive except when paying for mechanical work on his German cars! He is also currently working on a history of driver education in the U.S. and the changes made in the curriculum over time.  You can keep up with his work by looking at www.automobileandamericanlife.blogspot.com.

About the Series

This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

The post The Citroën DS 19: Radically Different appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

The world began to see glimmers of change after World War II, when cars like the Volkswagen Beetle, with its engine and transaxle in the rear, became popular.  But when the British Motor Corp. Ltd. (BMC) introduced the first Mini in 1959, motordom took a turn in an entirely different direction.

In the Mini, the engine and transaxle stood crosswise under a stubby hood and drove the front wheels. With no driveshaft, the floor could be flat. Tiny 10-inch wheels stood at the extreme four corners, reducing wheel-well intrusion. Some 80% of the Mini’s footprint provided space for people and cargo.

Alec Issigonis, the Mini’s father, had previously engineered the Morris Minor. The Minor—simple, rugged, lightweight and economical—promptly became a bestseller, with 1.36 million produced between 1948 and 1972. The success of the Minor gave BMC’s chairman, Leonard Lord, the confidence to ask Issigonis to create the most efficient, roomy, easy-to-produce small car possible. One of the few givens was that it use an existing BMC engine.  Working with only two other engineers, two student engineers and four draftsmen, Issigonis’s team had cobbled together a prototype by mid-1957, and the Mini entered production in August 1959. In addition to its packaging advantages, it also introduced a number of secondary innovations.

For example, Issigonis placed the transaxle inside the engine oil pan, with a common lubricating system. He turned many body weld seams outward so they didn’t intrude on interior space. The Mini’s doors used simple external hinges and sliding windows. Inside, by eliminating the door panels, the hollow doors could be used for storage. The suspension, engineered by Moulton Developments Ltd., used rubber cones instead of steel springs. Issigonis hinged the decklid at the bottom to expand trunk space,

The Mini Cooper and Cooper S came about through a friendship between Alec Issigonis and race-car builder John Cooper. Competition versions dominated the Monte Carlo Rally in the mid-1960s, and an Austin Mini Cooper S won the American Road Race of Champions three years running, 1968-70.  And for decades, private entries have been winning rallies and races all over the world.

By the mid-1970s, the Mini’s sales and racing successes—plus its overall engineering logic—inspired a totally new generation of cars with fwd and transverse engines. VW introduced the Golf/Rabbit in 1974; Chrysler launched the Omni/Horizon in 1978. General Motors released its X-Cars (Chevrolet Citation et. al.) in 1980, and Chrysler’s K-Cars (Plymouth Reliant etc.) arrived in 1981. Ford of Europe developed the Mini-like Fiesta in 1976 and transferred that technology to the full-sized Taurus and Sable for 1986. Even Cadillac adopted fwd with crosswise engines by the mid-1980s as had, of course, most Japanese and European automakers.

Today the world’s highways teem with fwd/transverse-engined cars, which currently outsell those with the previously “typical” layout by a considerable margin.

The Mini remained in production for 40 years, from 1959 to 2000. Approximately 5.3 million were sold, and although dozens of versions popped up over time, the last car looked almost exactly like the first. Minis and their variants were assembled not only in England but in Australia, New Zealand, Chile, South Africa, Portugal and Spain.

About the Author
Michael Lamm was born in London, England in 1936 and grew up in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas.  Mike attended Reed College in Portland, Oregon from 1954-1957, then switch to Columbia University in New York, graduating in 1958.  In 1959, he became editor of Foreign Car Guide, a magazine about VW Beetles.  In 1960, he became managing editor of Motor Life magazine and later managing editor of Motor Trend.  In 196, he moved to Popular Mechanics as their West coast editor  In 1970, Mike co-founded Special-Interest Autos magazine in partnership with Hemmings Motor News, and in 1978 he founded his own company, Lamm-Morada Inc., which specializes in books about automotive history.  Mike is a Past President of the Society of Automotive historians and a multiple SAH award winner.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post The Mini: An Automotive Transformation appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

That all changed during World War II.  By the time the war ended, the Skiebe family escaped with their lives but little else.  In the 1950s, my mom and Tante Kiki, my aunt, immigrated to the United States, took their citizenship test and began new lives as Americans.

When each of them were able to buy new cars, not surprisingly they bought VW Beetles.  Thanks to my grandfather, these two women were car enthusiasts, and even though they couldn’t afford expensive cars, they could afford Beetles.  My mom and dad had a 1958 beige Beetle and my aunt drove a light blue model.  I can remember how excited everyone was when we went to the dealership to pick them up!  I was four.

In the mid-1960s, my aunt decided to move from the New York City area to the West Coast and drove her blue Beetle cross country.  I remember she told me that when she drove across the deserts on long stretches of straight roads, she would tuck in behind a large tractor-trailer truck and “it would just pull me along.”

As a 10-year-old, I was skeptical.  How could a truck tow my aunt’s car without a rope?

Decades later, I became involved in NASCAR racing in public relations and marketing.  I learned from veteran race drivers like Darrell Waltrip, Bobby Allison and Dale Earnhardt, Sr., that there was indeed something called “the draft,” where the vehicle in front would clear the air, thereby allowing the car behind to work less.  And go faster.

Still, it sounded like black magic to me.  Until I ran my first marathon.

It was a calm day without a breeze when I was running the Charlotte Observer Marathon about 20 years ago.  As I ran through the city streets, I followed another runner closely.  When I moved to the left or right of that other runner, the air was “rougher” than when I followed directly behind.

Suddenly I understood.  I understood what Tante Kiki had told me forty years earlier.  And I understood why those NASCAR drivers “searched” for the draft in order to win races.

Today, my mom is 93 and Tante Kiki is 89.  They both live in nursing facilities and neither is able to drive any longer.  But both are still car enthusiasts and both love to remind me about the adventures they had in their VW Beetles.  And I have a 1960 Beetle in my garage as a reminder of my family’s love affair with the brand.

Thanks, Tante Kiki, for teaching me about a basic racing practice you learned in your 36-horsepower VW Beetle.   It just took me a few decades to understand it.

About the Author
Tom Cotter is an acclaimed automotive author and historian specializing in “barn finds”  and vintage racing.  Tom is a regular contributor to Road and Track and the New York Times, and recently published, “Ford Model T Coast to Coast – A Slow Drive Across A Fast Country” chronicling his cross-country trip in a Model T. He is the proud owner of a 1952 Cunningham C3 Coupe, a 1939 Ford “Woodie” Station Wagon and a 1965 Cobra.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post The Beetle and Tante Kiki appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

To reduce “range anxiety” (the fear of being stranded far from home with a dead battery), the hybrid concept gained favor.  This usually involved a small gasoline engine and a generator, to recharge on the road.  At first, the idea seemed inefficient and overly complicated―two systems instead of one—and perhaps too expensive.  Other attempts at electric propulsion, like the battery-electric General Motors EV-1 were minimalistic and limited to two passengers.

The word “elegant” is a term of respect used by engineers to describe a design that is no more complicated than it need be to perform its intended function.  A variation on the axiom “simpler is better,” it aptly describes the Prius.

Rather than adding on a completely separate power source to charge the batteries, Toyota annexed an electric motor to a 1,500 cc four-cylinder gasoline engine.  Employing a continuously-variable transmission to let the engine operate at maximum efficiency, the car could also run on electric propulsion entirely, with the engine shut off.  Batteries are nickel metal hydride, an advanced technology not quite as powerful as lithium but without the hazards inherent in large lithium cells.  To integrate all these disparate elements an advanced electronic control and management system was developed; “drive by wire” it is sometimes called, and also included regenerative braking.  Weight of 2,750 pounds was less than that of the EV-1, and the Prius carried two additional passengers.

Introduced in Japan in 1997, the Prius entered the European, United States and Canadian markets in 2000.  At about $20,000 in the U.S., it was much more expensive than a Corolla, but equivalent to a mid-range Camry and affordable for its target customer. Styling was distinctive, for instant consumer recognition, yet not radical or startling like some alternative concepts.

By 2010 annual worldwide sales had risen above 500,000.  Having changed the world, however, the Prius now had to live in it.  Variations on the Prius concept had been adopted by other automakers, including Ford and General Motors, so hybrid buyers had more choices.

Prius sales remain strong, in the 200,000 to 300,000 range, and customer loyalty is high. Many customers are now on their second or third Prius.  Replacement is seldom due hybrid-specific maladies, but simply items that wear and fail on all cars—heating and air conditioning, for example—or non-related causes like accidents.  Batteries have proven not to be a reliability factor; original packs last ten years or more. The current model is the fourth generation.

About the Author
Kit Foster has had an insatiable curiosity about automobiles since birth. He has written for enthusiast magazines for 35 years, in the United States and in Europe. His book, The Stanley Steamer, America’s Legendary Steam Car, received awards from the Antique Automobile Club of America and the Society of Automotive Historians. A long-time member of both organizations, he was named a Friend of Automotive History by SAH, from which he also received the Carl Benz Award for periodical articles. He lives in Gales Ferry, Connecticut.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post The Toyota Prius: An Elegant Solution appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

Lee Iococca and Hal Sperlich, of Ford Mustang fame, were the main masterminds behind the Chrysler minivan. They had originally started the project at Ford and thanks to extensive market research, they knew that they had a great opportunity for a new car.  Henry Ford II disagreed, however, and had Sperlich fired; Iococca left the following year and they both joined Chrysler.

At the time, Chrysler was failing and close to collapse.  Through a stroke of good fortune, Iococca was permitted to take the customer research with him to Chrysler.  First released in 1983 for the 1984 model year, the Plymouth Voyager and Dodge Caravan (and later the upscale 1990 Chrysler Town & Country) created an entirely new type of vehicle. The success of the minivan and Chrysler’s prominent lead in the new field ultimately saved Chrysler and even helped the company turn a profit a few years after the minivan’s release.

But what made it so successful?  There were numerous aspects that came together to make it so revolutionary. With similarities to the station wagon and commercial van, the minivan was the ultimate large, family car. It was comfortable thanks to the higher roofline but still low enough to comfortably enter and exit.   Chrysler’s K-car chassis gave a better ride than the truck chassis of traditional vans.  The hood was visible to the driver making it more comfortable to drive, especially for women who are shorter on average.  The front engine created a safer crush zone. Sliding doors derived from commercial vans were convenient and safer for families and the rear hatch and folding third-row seats created even more flexible space for cargo.

The legacy of the minivan cannot be ignored.  While it may be a decidedly unsexy vehicle, it is the vehicle that saved Chrysler. This new range of vehicles also became a cultural icon of suburban families. Unfortunately, the minivan also took on an association with “soccer moms.”  The demeaning caricature identified the minivan as a matronly car and men and women alike began to shun the revolutionary vehicle.

As an alternative to the minivan, SUVs and crossovers have gained increasing success since the 2000s, largely due to how the minivan changed the way cars were designed. SUVs became less rugged and more like a minivan with comfortable and family-friendly design.

Whether you personally like them or not, the Chrysler minivan changed the American automotive landscape forever and deserves respect.  And if we are lucky, the signs of a come-back from the minivan might just hold true.

About the Author
Carly Starr is the Curator of the California Automobile Museum in Sacramento, California.  She is a native or Rocklin, California, and a graduate of the University of California, Los Angeles.  Her previous experience included the California State Railroad Museum and the Otis House Museum.  Carly is active in the national Association of Automobile Museum and a member of the Society of Automotive Historians.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post Why the Chrysler Minivan Changed the World appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

Ford engineers never set out to change the world.  They just designed a car to meet the needs of American farmers: light, rugged, simple to operate and repair, and able to successfully navigate the abysmal roads typical of early 1900s America.  By the time the Model T reached the end of its production run in 1927 it was being assembled in nineteen countries and sold in many more.

The Model T cannot be separated from its method of manufacture. Henry Ford’s relentless search for ever more production at ever lower cost led to the development of mass production: standardized products assembled from interchangeable parts, by workers doing repetitive tasks while the work flows by in an endless stream.  To get his workers to stay and do this often boring but nevertheless demanding work, Ford eventually had to pay very high wages. In 1914 he began offering his workers $5 per day, double the prevailing wage.  As his methods spread to other automakers, the auto industry became the major driving force in the United States’ economy.

Industries around the world adopted, adapted, and often improved upon the methods pioneered by Ford.  Mass production and mass consumption became two of the characteristics of life in twentieth century industrialized nations.

American mass production industries were essential to winning World War II. None of the other belligerents could match the United States’ ability to turn out guns, helmets, tanks, ammunition, and combat boots.

The Model T’s most visible legacy was mass automobility.  The Ford’s low price put auto ownership within the reach of the middle class and planted the desire for auto ownership in the mind of nearly everyone.  It spawned the improvement of America’s awful roads, culminating in the vast interstate highway system.  Cities were reshaped to adapt to the needs of drivers, and automobility facilitated the growth of sprawling new suburbs, with their attendant schools, retail stores, and industries.  Along the way we not only changed the way we live, but also the way we die, as auto accidents became a major new cause of death and injury. The automobile elevated the significance of petroleum-rich states like Oklahoma and Texas, and made petroleum-rich countries like Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and Iran both wealthy and strategically important on the world stage.

Small wonder then, that decades after the last Model T was built, one observer would call Ford’s Model T factory in Highland Park, Michigan, “the place where the mainspring of the twentieth century was wound.”

About the Author
Bob Casey is a graduate mechanical engineer who spent 12 years working for Bethlehem Steel.  He worked as a historian and curator at the Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers History Center, Sloss Furnaces National Historic Landmark, the Detroit Historical Museum, and Henry Ford Museum. He retired from the Henry Ford Museum in 2012 after 21 years as the John and Horace Dodge Curator of Transportation.  He wrote The Model T: A centennial History (2008) and coauthored  Driving America: The Henry Ford’s Automotive Collection (2013).  He currently serves as the Secretary of the Society of Automotive Historians.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post Ford’s Model T: Mass Automobility appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

The debate at the turn of the 20^th century was why buy one of those new-fangled gas-powered, horseless carriages that were 1) difficult, even dangerous to start, 2) not dependable and 3) made an awful noise that scared horses and small children when you had behind the house the dependable old mare and buggy in the barn.

The horse vs. automobile debate continued on for a decade and a half. It is of note that during this period of uncertainty a number of all-electric cars like the Detroit Electric, Studebaker Electric and Baker Electric were making great headway in attracting buyers.  And why not, early horseless carriages with internal combustion engines could only be started using a hand crank.  Hand cranks, if used improperly, resulted sometimes in serious injuries including broken bones and even death.  An electric car could be started by pushing a button.  Milady would naturally prefer the ease of driving an electric car.

Why electric motors did not become the dominant power source in automobiles in the early 20^th century was twofold.  First, battery technology at the time was primitive and provided little range.  Second, on February 27, 1911 in Detroit inventor Charles Kettering demonstrated his electric automobile starter on a Cadillac’s motor with the press of a button.  In 1912 Cadillac put the electric starter on its Model 30 1912 Cadillac and the new invention changed everything.  The shift from range-limited electric propelled cars to ones powered by internal combustion engines was immediate and the rest is history.

About the Author
St. Joseph Michigan resident Dar Davis is a life-long automobile enthusiast.  In the late 60s he worked briefly for GM as a clay modeler.  He has written for 19 years a weekly Sunday car column for The Herald Palladium newspaper.  Dar founded and ran for 13 years the Lake Bluff Concours d’Elegance (formerly the Krasl Concours) in St. Joseph, a car show even that raised funds initially for the Krasl Art Center, then for Hospice at Home.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post The 1912 Cadillac: A Self-Starter appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

The Jeep that resulted was something of a mongrel: The Bantam’s Spicer-sourced four-wheel transmission and differential was mated with the Willy’s Go-Devil engine and fitted with the overall bodywork configuration of the Ford Model GP. From less than 100 Jeeps in 1940, almost 8,500 were built in 1941 in three different versions by Bantam (BRC-40), Willys (MA), and Ford (GP). Beginning in late 1941, the Jeep was standardized with the Spicer differential, the Go-Devil engine, and the Ford bodywork configuration. Production of the Jeep as the Willys Model MB and the Ford Model GPW resulted 639, 235 being produced during the war, with Willys producing over 360,000 of them. In addition, Ford also produced almost 13,000 of a special amphibious Jeep (Model GPA) called the “Seep.” In all, from 1940 to 1945, a total of 647,925 Jeeps were built.

The Jeep fulfilled many roles during the war, these ranging from being the mount for cavalry units conducting combat reconnaissance missions, the vehicle from which commanders led their units, hauling trailers full of vital supplies across the battlefield, carrying aircrew to their aircraft whether the airfield was in Brazil or Britain or Italy or Guadalcanal or Iwo Jima, carrying litters bearing wounded troops, transporting generals and admirals to work, pulling light artillery pieces into battle or simply allowing President Roosevelt review troops. The Jeep was also used by Special Air Service units to conduct raids behind enemy lines, on D-Day in France it rode into battle in gliders just as it did with the Chindits (Long Range Penetration Groups) in Burma, it landed with the assault waves in Italy, France, the Philippines, and Okinawa, as well as carrying the victorious Allies into Rome, Paris, Berlin, and Tokyo.

Along with the Douglas C-47 Dakota/Skytrain and landing craft such as the Higgins Boat and the Landing Ship, Tank (LST), the Jeep is often credited with being one of the important factors in helping the Allies achieve victory during World War 2.

About the Author
Don Capps is a member of the Society of Automotive Historians (SAH). currently serving on its Board of Directors and chair of the International Motor Sport History Section.  He is also a member of and chair of the Council of Historians of the International Motor Racing Research Center in Watkins Glen, New York, where he is the co-chair of the annual Michael R. Argetsinger Symposium for International Motor Racing history, held each November.  Don is also a member of a number of professional historical organizations as well as being a life member of both the U.S. Army Ranger Association and the 75th Rangers Regiment Association.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians. 

Image courtesy of Buzzoid.

The post The Jeep in World War II appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.

By 1901 Olds had built 11 prototype vehicles, including at least one of each power mode: steam, electricity and gasoline. He was the only American automotive pioneer to produce and sell at least one of each mode of automobile.

On March 9, 1901, the Olds Motor Works factory burned to the ground. Only one model, the little Curved Dash runabout, was saved from the flames. Ransom Olds claimed it was the fire that made him select the runabout, from among his many other models, to put into production. His biographer questions the veracity of this story due to an Olds advertising blitz that had already led to more than 300 Curved Dash orders even before the fire took place. A new factory was built in Lansing, Michigan and production of the Curved Dash Oldsmobile commenced.

The car was simple, sturdy and dependable. The flat-mounted, water-cooled, single-cylinder engine, situated at the center of the car, produced 4.5 horsepower.  The transmission had two forward speeds and one reverse.  The car weighed 700 pounds, and had a top speed of 20 mph.

Later that year, Olds had his company’s test driver, Roy Chapin ( who later co-founded the Hudson Motor Car Company), drive a Curved Dash runabout to the second annual New York Automobile Show at the Waldorf-Astoria hotel Chapin opted to drive up onto the Erie Canal tow path to escape the mire of New York state roads. After eight days of driving, he reached the Waldorf but was turned away at the door. His mud-spattered attire was so disreputable that he was sent to the servants’ entrance in back.

During the Automobile Show Olds pushed hard to make sales. When one dealer offered to purchase 500 cars, Olds retorted, “I would like to see you make this order for a thousand cars. Then the public would drop its jaw and take notice.”  The deal was signed, and though the dealer ended up selling only 750 to the public, it was the original number that everyone remembered.

The Curved Dash Oldsmobile sold for $650, equal to $19,120 today. In the years 1903 and 1904 it was the number one selling car in America, and by the end of production in late 1906, over 19,000 had been built.  The Curved Dash Oldsmobile was America’s first mass-produced, low-priced car.

About the Author
Matt Short believes the automobile is “the greatest piece of art ever placed on 4 wheels” and is one of the nation’s foremost automotive historians.  His professional experience includes The Henry Ford, The R.E. Olds Museum, The Auburn Cord Duesenberg Automobile Museum, and America’s Packard Museum.  Matt currently serves on the board of the Society of Automotive Historians and has previously served on the boards of the National Association of Automobile Museums and Packard Motor Car Foundation.

About the Series
This series of essays explores the vehicles that made up our Ten Cars that Changed the World exhibition.  The exhibition was a partnership with the Society of Automotive Historians and Sambla AB financial services.

Image courtesy of Visit South Bend.

The post The Curved Dash Oldsmobile: Putting America on Wheels appeared first on The Studebaker National Museum.