Installment V

Before I leave the 1956 model year, I want to tell everyone that a very important introduction occurred in 1956, and that was the new Torqueflite transmission.

Slow to get a fully automatic transmission on the market, Chrysler wasted no time in getting beyond its two speed Powerflite. The Torqueflite was quite simply the best automatic transmission ever produced. It was simple, reliable, dependable, quiet, efficient, economical, and gave Chrysler cars a performance advantage.

The Torqueflite centered on a rather simple planetary gear set that was named the "Simpson gear set," after its inventor. As later racing versions of the Torqueflite proved, you could increase the amount of torque capability by machining more "beef" into the gear set.

Late 1956 Chrysler 300 Bs were equipped with the three speed Torqueflite, along with Imperials, and the senior models of the Chrysler line. It was thought that there may have been some DeSoto models that got the Torqueflite, however, none has ever been confirmed. I do know of one 1956 Adventurer that had one. My Grandpa had his '56 converted over from Powerflite to Torqueflite. For once, Chrysler was prepared for that type of situation, and had engineered a conversion kit for MoPar fans that wanted the flexibility and capability of the new Torqueflite.

Ford Motor Company was so impressed with the Torqueflite that it attempted to quietly buy the rights to manufacture a sort of "copycat." The story, however, was quickly picked up by the automotive magazines. Ford reportedly had paid Chrysler $7.5 million which was a big chunk of change in 1957! The direct result was the 1958 Ford built "Cruise-O-Matic" that was available on all standard Ford engines. It was not, however, a Torqueflite, but a Ford automatic built around the Simpson gear set. It was heavier, with more parts, keeping the Ford derived clutch band controls. Early models, especially those put behind "performance" engines liked to split the case, right down the middle! It was a problem that plagued Ford for a couple of years until the redesign incorporated into the 1961 models. In all fairness, however, in fleet applications, for the most part, the Cruise-O-Matic was reliable, and gave little trouble with regular maintenance. It certainly outshone Chevrolet's 1957 "Turboglide."

The 1957 Plymouth introduction

For all his running about in 1956, Dad took it pretty easy for the 1957 introduction. He pretty much still had some residual effect from his collapse in that he fatigued easily. He cut back his meeting attendance, along with the dealer conferences. In some cases he had sent Grandpa to some of the meetings. Near the middle of October 1956, Chrysler unveiled its new models to its dealers, with a special dealer invitation show at the Chrysler Chelsea Proving Grounds. This is where the guys that sell 'em get to beat them up a bit. Run them out and see what the models feel like. The Proving grounds had a 5 mile long high speed track, so there was plenty of space to let 'er rip if you felt like it. Grandpa spent three days on that excursion. He brought back a ton of literature, specifications and most importantly, pictures! I have to confess that Chrysler's new line was awesomely thrilling, but it wasn't all that attracted my attention.

Ford had brought out a completely new car for 1957, and I thought that the 2 door hardtop Fairlane was almost perfect with the exception being the bugged out headlamps. I know, shades of heresy! They certainly were far better looking than the 1957 Chevrolet. I still don't know why such a fuss is made over Chevrolet's 1957 model in particular. However, it is obvious that Plymouth was so far ahead of both Ford and Chevrolet, in design, and components, that they seemed almost old in comparison.

Dad was almost overwhelmed when the materials arrived on the 1957 Chrysler line. It was just almost too difficult to believe that they were even connected to the cars we had been selling just three years prior! How could you even compare? Put a 1954 Plymouth alongside a 1957. Built by the same company? Assembled in the same place by the same people? It was almost like a miracle make over. Dad just gushed over with every opportunity to talk about the upcoming year. He felt it in his bones that it was going to be a great one. Sales wise, he sure was correct. It was his Dad, however, that put the 1957 model year into perspective.

Grandpa had come home from the three day dealer introduction at the proving grounds in a contemplative mood. Dad seemed not to notice and prattled on and on about the new cars; he had not seen any of the actual 1957 cars yet, just the pictures. Grandpa just seemed to bow his head, especially at the dinner times, and pay real close attention to his food.

It all came together about a week after the trip. Dad was pressing Grandpa about which car he wanted to have out of the 1957 line. Grandpa didn't say anything in return, which was not exactly like him. Dad, unaware that he was walking on slippery turf, kept pressing the point. Finally, setting his jaw, Grandpa set down his fork, and looked right into my Dad's eyes, and uttered the words that stunned us all into silence.

“I won't be taking any 1957 car!”

I thought my Dad was going to burst a vein in his head. His eyes bulged, and he turned red. When he tried to speak, only a sort of hoarse gasp emitted from him. Grandpa turned white. For a fact, my Mom was aghast too. The premier owner of the Chrysler dealer not taking a new model? What was this? And especially one of these beautifully stunning new 1957s. As for me, I just stared at my Grandpa with something akin to finding out like you had been adopted or something. Finally Dad was able to sputter out something like "what the hell do you mean by that?" Some of the redness had left his face, and at least his eyes had returned to something like normalcy.

Grandpa reared back in his chair. Obviously this was going to be a battle of logic, or a shouting contest. That very rarely occurred in our family. But as I looked at my Dad, I felt that this time, Grandpa has gone way too far. Dad had that jaw jutted look of absolute determination. My memory has faded somewhat because in the first few seconds of Grandpa's explanation, I was still in shock which is not conducive to listening well. Finally, I grasped onto what Grandpa was saying..."and as I was cycling through all the cars up there, I am telling you, they are going to be a warranty nightmare!...They are junky as anything I have ever... ever seen out of Chrysler!...If you thought the 1952 Plymouth was bad, wait until you get to see what they have done to these 1957s...Sure they are gorgeous, no argument there. And we are going to be able to sell a ton of every model, I can feel that already. But, they rushed them. These cars should have had another year of engineering for assembly. They are terrible."

My Dad had gone from red to completely white. "My gawd, are they really that bad?" Grandpa shook his head affirmatively.

"I would recommend that you get one of those undercoating machines and train a couple guys that will do a good job to operate it. These things are as tinny as a Ford, and leak dust and water around all the windows and doors. If we throw a coat of undercoating on, maybe, it might stop some of the leaking, and perhaps keep rust out of corners that you don't know you got until they rot enough to fall off!"

Dad's forehead sort of knotted. "Aw c'mon Pa... they can't be all that bad. I'll have to pay ten, fifteen dollars on every car to put that stuff on it, besides paying wages for it." Grandpa nodded again.

"Yeup, but it might save a few thousand in claims later on down the line, and could stop some of that tinny sound you get when you close the doors. You know they mounted the rear view mirror on the dash, sorta right by the driver's right arm. By about 50 miles an hour, it vibrates so badly, it is useless! And, if anyone is sitting in the middle in the back, you can't see through them ... The seats are covered with something plastic like and they are calling it Vannahide material. But, in every one of the cars that I saw, the seams are puckered and bunched. It won't take much to split them like a grape getting pushed out of its skin. The outside door handles on the Plymouth are like the lever on a refrigerator. They bend without much pressure and I can see some kid yanking them right out of the holder with no trouble at all. The rest of the line has outside handles that you pull up from a sort of recess. It looks strong, but on the inside of the door where you can't see, it has a lever about as thick as a coat hanger to operate the mechanism. That is a sure fire warranty nightmare."

Dad just sat with about the most dejected look he ever had. "Gawd, Pa, isn't there anything good about the cars?"

Grandpa softened quite a bit. "Oh hell yes! The engines should make all the cars the top performers. As you know from my experience with the Torqueflite, you can't beat that tranny. And that new torsion bar front suspension makes every one of the cars a real road car! You can take it around corners that would put a Ford right into the weeds, just like it was on a set of rails!"

For a few moments, there was just utter silence. Finally Dad looked up. "What about the Fury, Pa... did they make it as good as it looks"? Knowing what my Dad had gone through for that model, Grandpa sorta smiled. "Son, you will just love the first one you actually see. The engine just makes it so fast, it is like a streak."

October 30, 1956 arrived quickly. Pre-publicity had stirred public interest up to the point that we actually had people at the front doors before we were ready to open. It was a big event. We had a big wash tub that we filled with water so kids could bob for apples. There was plenty of candy to give away. Everyone dressed in a costume. Dad set up a film projector with the advertisement reels from Chrysler. We had tons of the new Slinky toys, and so many hula hoops we were afraid we wouldn't be able to give them away. The newly built television station came down and filmed a lot of what was going on. We got a whole minute and a half that evening on the 6 o'clock news. That brought out a crush of people later on that night! Also persuaded Dad to get some air time on TV.

Imagine my surprise when I got called to the Principal's office. For once, I knew I hadn't done anything, and was prepared to argue just that point. I was shocked to learn that Dad had called the school to get me out! It was so busy at the dealership that he needed all the hands he could get! Literally, we were mobbed. We could barely move! There was absolutely no question that Virgil Exner was a design genius!

The 1957s were a smash hit. Dad sent the band home early because no one could hear them, and they did not garner any attention anyway. He called down to Raymond's, a neighborhood tavern, and had cold cuts, bread, dips, crackers, bread, soda pop and other food sent over. That was an instant draw. I think Raymond's daughter about wore out the sidewalk. I am sure that the butcher was rubbing his hands together. He probably hadn't moved that much ham, bologna, and salami in his entire existence. But it worked! People stayed on and waited for us to get to them until the wee hours of the morning! We got home about 2:00 a.m. Dad was up at his usual 7:30 a.m., only this time no one got to sleep in! He dragged us all out again. One of our police officers, seeing Dad getting the paper, had stopped to let Dad know that there were at least 50 people outside the store at 6:00 a.m.

Dad was worried that he wouldn't have enough people to handle the crowd. By the time we got there at 9 am, all of the sales people had been on the floor for at least an hour. It was like an extended family. What a crew!

Mom set right out to clean up the tiny crumbs of food, and went on to order coffee and food. Raymond himself came this time, laughing that his daughter would be ready for the second shift. My Dad waved and yelled across the sales floor to just keep the food coming. Raymond got about halfway across the lot when he saw a Royal Blue Chrysler New Yorker 4 door. He hesitated, then looked around to see if anyone was watching. Almost like a kid reaching for a cookie, he opened the door and got in. One of the guys let out a whoop as he shot for the door. "Hey, Raymond, you wanna buy it"? There was no answer, but neither did Raymond get out of that car. Wally, who was one of the best sales persons I ever saw, yelled that he would have Raymond sold in 10 minutes. Someone else yelled, "That’s a bet." "O.K. says Wally, 20 bucks...anybody else"? Wally strode out across the black top parking area. My Grandpa was laughing so hard, tears were coming out of his eyes. You see, in all the years that they had been there, Raymond had bought only Ford products. But, this time, he knew, just as Wally had known, that Raymond was going to buy that Chrysler as sure as it was sitting there. And he did. Wally collected the $20 bet. That was just how good those new models were.

The day wasn't over for Wally either. A guy came in and wanted to test drive one of the new Plymouths that had the big V-8. Wally said the only thing he had was a Belvedere with the 301 cubic inch 4 barrel, 235 horsepower. Guy thought for a minute. "Lemme make a phone call," he said. Wally said sure because there was so much business going on that every one of them had at least three deals done, waiting for the Finance and Insurance folks to do their stuff. A few minutes later, the guy practically ran up to Wally. "Hey, yeah that is OK, but we gotta hurry... I gotta test drive it right away." Wally agreed, taking his tag out and putting it on the car.

The guy got behind the wheel, and was careful. Normally, Wally had a set route that he liked to take potential customers on for a test drive. However, this guy started heading out of town towards the military highway. Wally started to get concerned, but the guy assured him that he just really wanted to drive it in his own way. Wally wasn't too pleased, but decided to keep quiet. Everyone is different. At least the guy was exhibiting decent driving habits, being careful in operating the car. No one could have been prepared for what happened next.

Suddenly, the man braked fairly hard. A new 1957 Ford Fairlane pulled up alongside and also stopped. Wally recognized the passenger as being one of the sales persons from the Ford dealership. The guy behind the wheel yelled over, this one is a 312 with a four barrel. Got 245 horsepower. Wally's guy yelled back, "yeah, and this one has got 235 ponies!" Wally started to get madder than a wet hen, but just as he was going to grab the guy, the Ford driver yelled out, "GO!" With that the two cars set up with a roar.

The Ford got the jump, but the Plymouth started to catch right up about 60 and by the time the Torqueflite had wound the 301 out to 85 miles an hour, the Plymouth was 10 car lengths ahead. They began to slow, and Wally started yelling at the guy to stop the car. The guy went right on, wheeling the Plymouth onto Hogback Road, with the Ford right in tow behind them. It you are familiar with a Hog's back, you would well recognize why this road was named for it. It was full of curves, dips, and assorted other ills that did not make for high speed transition over it. Guy slaps the accelerator on the Plymouth and they are off in roar. The Ford kept up through the first real curve. After that they never saw it again until the guy stopped the Plymouth.

Wally was prepared for that. He snatched the keys, and then jumped out. He was cursing like a drunken sailor. The Ford salesman also bailed out when they stopped. Then the guy driving the Ford walked up and shook Wally's hand. "Congratulations. We will buy two cars from you. Take us back to the dealership."

Well, it wasn't all that easy at first to persuade Wally to escort those two guys anywhere, except the local jail. Finally, they both pulled out their wallets. Between them they had close to $5,000 in cash. When they convinced Wally that he could hold the cash money until they got back to the dealer, he finally relented and took them back to the store. Turns out they were brothers and could not make up their minds between either the Ford or the Plymouth. They came up with the hare brained scheme to conduct their own road tests. They did not get a price break, but they did get two new Plymouths from Wally.

The Ford salesman had called the police. Two bored looking cops showed up at the store looking for Wally and two kidnappers. Wally feigned ignorance when the cops started asking questions. After all, he just scored a double, had the cash in his hand, and was on his way to a nice bonus. After a few minutes, the cops took to looking at all the cars on the lot, more interested in the engines than any two kidnappers in the area. The brothers left in their shiny new Plymouths and even waved at the police as they left. As far as I know nothing else ever came of that. Dad laughed until he cried whenever Wally told someone about that sale.

Me? I spent a great deal of the day organizing my Dad's papers and inventory logs. He was pretty good, but I was better and faster with paperwork than anybody at the dealership. He actually put me in charge to get it back under control. We didn't break any new records for Plymouth on the first day. 1955 is and was the single Plymouth day record. However, overall between all the car lines, we moved an absolute record of 38 cars! 14 Plymouths. 11 Chryslers. 6 Dodges, 4 DeSotos and 3 Imperials. [The new Fury, Chrysler 300 C, and DeSoto Adventurers were to be later year introductions.] However, the second day also saw a record flurry of activity when we sold 22 units! That was my second day out of school. It went by so quickly, I almost didn't notice.

Between balancing previously sold cars, along with the day sales, putting paperwork to the trade-ins, used car sales, (which took off substantially too because some of the folks had their eager eyes on the their neighbors cars) and double checking the restocking of new inventory, I felt like a one legged man in a high jump contest. Certainly, tomorrow being Saturday, things would calm down. My expectations of a late sleep in on Saturday were sent flying away when Dad shook me awake at 7:00 a.m. Mom was already up. "We got an even bigger crowd waiting this morning than we had yesterday! Son, you are doing a wonderful job, and I truly need you to help me." I was up, showered, dressed, and fired up to go by 7:30! We hit the store at a running start at 7:45. Three of the sales people were already there, and the F & I (finance and insurance) folks had already closed three sales left from yesterday, with four more new folks waiting.

Dad told me the first thing to do was to get the replacement stock moving in a rush to the store. We had a teletype and a private phone line to the stock marshaling yard, which was about 200 miles away. Dad said, "I won't tell you what you need to do, except that you may want to take a fast inventory of what we have left, and then increase our stock by 50% over what we ordered to begin with.”

Grandpa popped in for a quick look. "Man, that isn't enough! Whatever we had, we should double it!" Now, what do I do? I had Grandpa's benefit of experience, and my Dad's marching orders. What would Dad do? I did what any good son would do, I compromised and ordered 75% of the original lot inventory. The teletype chattered cheerfully away as I hunted and pecked my way through the entire order, then hit send. One thing about the teletype is that no matter how slowly you entered the message, when you sent it, you at least sounded like a speed demon. The only mistake I made was that I put my name in the message box, instead of Dad's. I suppose it was like a mental slip. It didn't take too long before the private line started ringing, and I answered it. It was the manager of the stock yard and he was asking for me. When I told him that this was me, he stopped with a long hesitation. Finally, he asked if I was Franklin's son. When I said that I was, he then asked if my Dad would send a confirmation message that authorized me to place orders. I told him that I would have him do it right away. He said, in the meantime, he was loading trucks, as we spoke, with many of the models on our list. They would be on the way by that very afternoon, and that since we had so many, they were going to pay double time and send shipments to the stores on Sunday, so we had to have someone there! I almost ran down Mrs. Weed, our Office Manager, to get to my Dad to tell him. He was shocked, but only a moment, saying, we will be here on Sunday, AFTER church. That spread through the store quickly. It was the stuff of big doings. Oh, he also told me to send the confirmation message in his name on the teletype. The rest of the day went by in a blur. Around 4:00 p.m. we got in three trucks with some new inventory. Wally and his crew were out on the back lot, selling those fabulous 1957s right off the truck! Honest, I have never seen anything like it, before or since!

When Dad saw that, he told me, "take whatever we originally had, and double it along with a half!" Grandpa happened to be close by and he chimed in, "Hell man, we better triple it or we are gonna get skinned here." I looked at Dad, who then took in the sight of Wally and two other sales folks selling right from the truck, and then said: "DO IT!" I ran back to the teletype and sent another long list of models. This time the phone did not ring. All I got back is a short, terse rattley teletype reply: It said, "we're loading, WE'RE LOADING!" Mrs. Weed saw it and started to laugh. She showed it to Mom who was not only acting as food liaison, but as a file clerk, and she started to laugh. Mom took it out to Dad, and he had a good laugh too. It was an amazing message. It was an amazing day. Customer traffic increased as the day wore on. It seemed like the whole world had come to our store. For whatever reason, people hung on, even cheerfully for hours before anyone could get to them. Mom was like a sort of good will ambassador, mingling, laughing, talking, gossiping with friends, and making sure they got fed. I had about 40 feet of paperwork piled up on Dad's desk, file cabinets, credenza and the floor. The set up mechanics in the back were flying in and out and asking me what to do. Imagine, me playing boss!

True to his word, the stock yard manager not only was loading, but shipping. Truck after truck started to roll in about 8:00 p.m. Some of the folks who had not seen what they wanted on the lot and had written car orders, immediately changed their mind when a truck with something similar appeared! Dad came into the office, looked around at what I, Mrs. Weed, and Mom were doing and smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen. "Great job, great job"! He then went out in the back, asking me to come along with him. "Hey fellas, thank you for treating my son with such great respect." "You can't imagine how you have helped us out." "Now I got a deal for anyone that wants it." He turned to me and winked. "From this moment right here, I want all of you to mark your time cards because you are gonna get double time." It was like the air went away from all of the folks. "And if you want to work tomorrow, you can get as many hours as you want, and I will pay triple time because it's Sunday"! "And for the rest of the week, it is all double time, except when you get to 40 hours, then it will be triple time again"! Finally, the concept sank in, and our crew let out a huge cheer. Tears actually came to my Dad's eyes. I had never seen that big man so humble. He started to shake everyone's hand, and then some of them came and started to shake my hand. Old man Greene, as we called him, was a grizzled veteran who had been with us from the start. He wasn't known for being too friendly, yet he came up and gave my hand a shake. "Kid, after 29 years at this place, it is good to know that a better man is coming"! He looked at my Dad, and it was obvious that there was a special kind of respect there. Dad looked down almost sheepishly. Then Greene in a louder tone, said, "Hell, its true... seen more of this young fella than I have his old man the past week... and got treated more polite!" Dad broke out in a loud laugh, which set the rest of the folks off. "Coming from you, this is one big endorsement." Then Mr. Greene started a big belly laugh. Truthfully, I had never seen him so animated. Dad started to turn away, then stopped. He held up his hands to get it quiet. "You know folks, this old pain in the butt has been like a fixture here." "He gave my Father a hard time when he was running the place, and he sure made some famous trials for me when I took over." "But, a couple weeks ago he gave me a true start, and one of the hardest times I have ever had to deal with from him." "He told me he wanted to retire." Old man Greene shot Dad a pained look. Apparently, he had desired to go very quietly. "Now, I have been searching for a way so that he doesn't just go away from us 'cause for all the things he truly is, he is also foundation of this business right here." "So, I put my head together with my Father, but for all our experiences, we just couldn't seem to come up with anything". "We had just about given up, when my son here [I didn't, but Dad was ad-libbing and giving me credit] suggested that we make him like a shop service advisor and warranty administrator." "Well, it sure seemed like the ideal job...." "How about it, old man, will you stick around and help out my son"? I couldn't even look up. I am sure my face was red. Everyone probably interpreted that I was embarrassed with all the attention. Well, I was, but, here was my very own Father making up this story. I couldn't believe it.

It was like a tomb, the silence was so deep, you could cut it. Tears began to flow down Mr. Greene's face. His hands began to shake, and he was very visibly moved. I am certain it touched everyone's heart. "Yeup." That is all he said, then he stuck his hand out again to me. I finally looked up. How could I spoil something as priceless as this? I took it in the most manly way I could and I said, "Thank you, Mr. Greene, I really will need you." Well, it just shook the place apart, such as the cheer that went up. Hey, we were a family. As it turned out, we were really gonna need him with those 1957s! Later, my Dad told me in private that he was never more proud of me for becoming a man right in front of him. Hey, what could I do? But I surely knew that I loved him like no other.