The Tragic Story of J. W. Leavitt

I normally choose to write about more upbeat stories, but meaning can be found in the tragic ones as well. This story started with the discovery of a humorous photo in an early 1900s newspaper. That photo led to the tale of a man who attained great success in the growing automobile industry before culminating in a disastrous end in the wake of the 1929 stock market crash. If you prefer happy endings, you will want to stop reading now.

This is the photo that appeared in the San Francisco Examiner:

The man pictured is putting up signs outside of Cloverdale, California, in a bid to warn tourists about the presence of a motor cop who will ticket speeders. The year is 1914, and the accompanying story told of how John W. Leavitt was ticketed and asked the justice of the peace to let him take the deputy for a ride in his car to prove that he had not exceeded the 30-mph speed limit while traveling a 38-mile route in 19 minutes. An unconventional approach to be sure, but the justice of the peace agreed, the deputy was convinced, and the case was dismissed. As it turns out, Leavitt was also an important figure of the west coast automobile scene for decades.

Before entering the automobile industry, Leavitt and a partner had started a bicycle business in 1894 in California under the name Leavitt & Bill, and it became the largest bicycle business west of Chicago. Prior to that, Leavitt had also been a champion bicycle racer. Seeing the potential of the automobile industry, he dissolved the bicycle partnership in 1906 and organized J. W. Leavitt & Co. for the distribution of motor cars. His protege at the bicycle company was a young man named Albert D. Plughoff who had begun working for Leavitt at 15 years of age. Described as Leavitt’s right-hand man, Plughoff transitioned to the new firm as VP and general manager.

The company served as distributor for several different makes including Reo and Stoddard-Dayton and then, in 1910, became distributor for Willys-Overland.

J. W. Leavitt & Co. flourished with the growing automobile industry. In 1916, the Los Angeles Times described the company as the largest single distributor of motor cars in the world. It seems that distinction would have belonged to someone selling Fords, but that is what was reported, and it was also said that the company was selling one-tenth of all cars produced by Willys-Overland. In 1917, J. W. Leavitt & Co. was appointed distributor for an expanded area to include the San Francisco, Oakland, Los Angeles, and San Diego territories. The article in the Oakland Enquirer described Leavitt as, “this country’s greatest automobile merchandizing wizard.”

The company was featured in an effusive Motor West magazine article written by an “eastern engineer” that found in Leavitt’s service department “conditions so extraordinary that I feel the whole world should be in possession of the details.” The writer added that the service department had the details worked out to perfection, and the following photos and procedures were documented in the write-up.

J. W. Leavitt & Co. rode the wave of expansion in the Roaring Twenties and, in 1928, announced it was taking over all of the Willys-Overland’s California factory branch properties, equipment, personnel, and stocks of motor cars as well as agreeing to market $15,000,000 worth of Willys-Knight and Whippet cars annually. In one of the newspaper articles announcing this development, Leavitt was credited with “originating vehicle sales on the installment plan. He inaugurated and developed the lease contract as it is used in automobile sales today.”

The above photo of a smiling Leavitt and Plughoff appeared in 1928. On the surface, everything seemed to be going well for Leavitt & Co., and they continued advertising right up through July of 1930:

However, the stock market had crashed the previous October, and automobile sales had been poor in recent months. Like so many other companies, J. W. Leavitt & Co. was facing financial difficulties and mounting debts. The doors of the firm were shut in the last weeks of July. Employees later said that Leavitt was upset at the prospect of being forced into bankruptcy after being an important figure along “automobile row” for more than a quarter of a century. He feared some creditor would become impatient and force the company into the hands of a receiver. According to his attorney, he also dreaded the necessity of looking for a job at 62 years of age.

Leavitt was also unhappy with Plughoff, his long-time friend, business partner, and right-hand man. Plughoff was leaving. He had accepted a position with an automobile firm back east that would pay $75,000 per year. Again, according to Leavitt’s attorney, all of these developments had left Leavitt feeling as if “the last prop, both of business and friendship, had been pulled out from under him.” Sometime during the first week of August, Leavitt borrowed a gun from one of his adult daughters, claiming he wanted it for squirrel hunting.

On the morning of August 11, Leavitt and Plughoff conferred alone in Leavitt’s office while, in an office across town, creditors were meeting to discuss the fate of the company. Employees heard a sound like a car backfiring. Leavitt then calmly left, commenting only, “Quiet morning,” to employees on his way out of the building. An employee entered the office and found Plughoff lying in a pool of blood. He had been shot in the head, and death had been instantaneous. Leavitt left a note at the scene that read, “Sorry to do this. This will provide for his family.” The note was an apparent reference to life insurance proceeds, and the family it referred to was a wife, now widow, named Myrtle.

Leavitt drove home where he sat and talked quietly with his wife for several minutes without referencing what he had just done. He then went into a bedroom, removed his shirt, and killed himself with the same weapon used to kill Plughoff. Reporters, already alerted to Plughoff’s death, were on the phone with Leavitt’s wife at the time. She was in the middle of saying Leavitt was too busy to come to the phone when reporters heard a shot and Mrs. Leavitt’s scream before the line was disconnected. Leavitt left a widow and six children.

While reports of suicides immediately following the stock market crash of 1929 were exaggerated, suicide rates did increase during the Great Depression. Recent studies have also shown that suicide rates increase during economic downturns, especially for men. Ironically, J. W. Leavitt and Co.’s difficulties appeared to have been more of a cash flow problem as the company had substantial assets. After liquidation of the assets, all obligations were met with $200,000 – $300,000 left over. To put that in perspective, $250,000 in 1930 is roughly equal to $4.5 million in today’s dollars. The attorney for one of Leavitt’s largest creditors stated, in the wake of the murder/suicide, that if Leavitt had only waited a couple of more hours, his fears of being forced into bankruptcy would have been averted. We would all do well to remember that the situation is often not as dire as it seems, and a day, or even a few hours, can drastically change your perspective.

Sources:

Advertisement. Willys Knight. The San Francisco Examiner, 18 Jul 1915, p. 33.

“Autoist Free After Proving Legal Speed.” The San Francisco Examiner, 19 Jul 1914, p. 32.

Big Deal in Autos Is Made Public.” The San Francisco Call, 11 Sept 1910, p. 47.

“Control State Distributions.” The San Bernadino County Sun, 22 Jan 1928, p. 26.

“History of Leavitt Firm.” The Los Angeles Times, 30 Apr 1916, p. VI-6.

“J. W. Leavitt & Co. Shows Line of Willys-Overland Cars and Knight Trucks.” The Oakland Post Enquirer, 28 Jan 1928, p. 21.

“J. W. Leavitt Estate Will Total $200,000.” Santa Cruz News, 13 Aug 1930, p. 10.

“J. W. Leavitt Kills Partner, Ends Own Life.” The Fresno Morning Republican, 12 Aug 1930, p. 1.

“J. W. Leavitt Kills Partner, Suicides.” Contra Costa Daily Gazette, 11 Aug 1930, p. 1.

“Leavitt Kills Partner and Commits Suicide.” The Los Angeles Times, 12 Aug 1930, p. 2.

“New Representative for Willys-Knight in Oakland.” The Oakland Post Enquirer, 11 Feb 1928, p. 24.

“Rites Planned for Leavitt, Victim.” The Oakland Post Enquirer, 12 Aug 1930, p. 3.

“San Francisco Auto Dealer Kills Manager, Then Self.” Modesto News Herald, 11 Aug 1930, p. 1.

“S. F. Auto Row Figure Kills Friend, Self.” The Press Democrat [Santa Rosa], 12 Aug 1930, p. 1.

“The Sales Department Sells the Car, but the Service Department Must Keep It Sold.” (1928, July). Motor West, 54-56.

“Who’s Who on Gasoline Row.” The Bulletin: San Francisco, 19 Mar 1910, p. 18.

More On Those 1930s Tail Lights

We recently picked up a number of hard-to-find tail lights from the 1930s, including the ’36 Dodge light mentioned in the last post. This beautiful light and license plate bracket is another example:

This 1937 Buick light has Art Deco-flair that repeats the look and lines of the grille:

Buick, like most makes of that year, had a license plate light and bracket that mounted on the center of the trunk of at least some of the models.

1937 Buick Sedan with center tail light. Photo credit: Jeremy from Sydney, Australia, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Car companies spotlighted this new arrangement as a selling point with an emphasis on symmetry, beauty, and safety.

My light/bracket combo was likely on a coupe originally, as the rear of the ’37 Buick coupe sloped steeply and prohibited the mounting of the light and bracket there.

I also found the tail light/bracket combo on something called a “Sloper” made for the Australian market. It was made by General Motors-Holden, an Australian subsidiary of GM, that manufactured and sold automobiles under its own marque.

1937 Buick Sloper. Photo credit: sv1ambo, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

GM-Holden called the body style an “All-Enclosed Coupe,” and the back seat folded down for additional luggage space. For 1937, the Sloper was also part of the line-up for GM-Holden’s Pontiac, Oldsmobile, and Chevrolet.

1937 Chevrolet Sloper. Photo credit: sv1ambo, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

After reviewing conversations and comments on the internet, it is apparent that many folks prefer the looks of the Holden version with its fastback styling and forward sloping B pillars, but I think the American-made coupe is tough to beat. Either way, this gorgeous light is the perfect finishing touch:

Hard-To-Find Tail Light From the 1930s

We recently bought a carload of items from an old dealership, and there were a number of hard-to-find lights in our haul, all dating to the 1930s. This one may show its age with rust, wear, and missing lenses, but it is still a beauty.

The torpedo-shaped housing is larger than you might think and measures eight inches in length. It is marked “DULITE,” and the license plate bracket is marked both “DULITE” and “RILITE.” The part number on the mount is 655863. Notice that the configuration is not what you would expect with the mount on the side of the light housing.

This is what it looks like mounted on the car:

This light is original to a 1936 Dodge, and the beautiful blue Dodge pictured here is one that I photographed on the courthouse square at Minden, Nebraska, a few years ago.

Dodge had already developed a reputation for dependability and ruggedness by this point, so for 1936 the company placed an emphasis on beauty and economy. Powered by a 217.8ci inline 6 L-head with 87-hp @ 3600rpm, this Dodge was able to achieve 18-24 mpg. This is a fun little ad about the gas saving features.

As seen in my last post, car companies during this time period were linking their automobiles to fashion in order to attract female buyers. Below is a newspaper advertisement and a page from the Dodge brochure which touts what “noted fashionistas” are saying about the ’36 Dodge:

It is a truly stunning automobile with so many great details like the convex grille, artillery wheels, airplane-like speedo, and, of course, those amazing tail lights.

Photo credit: David Berry from Rohnert Park CA, USA, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The Year Automobile Designers Became Dress Designers

I happened across a story in a 1940 newspaper about automobile designers making a foray into women’s fashions. The feminine styles were supposed to match the 1941 automotive offerings and were designed by the same men who created those body styles. This was all done to promote the New York auto show. There were pictures to go with the story, but no names, so I had to keep digging. I discovered that the first one was designed by none other than Harley Earl, and this streamlined creation in silver rayon featured wings to mimic the hood emblem on a ’41 Caddy.

Photo credit: Rex Gray, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The stories I found do not give credit for this stylish jacket with a yolk based on the shape of the Packard grille. Perhaps the designer was Howard “Dutch” Darrin?

Photo credit: David Berry from Rohnert Park CA, USA, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

This swimming suit is based on the 1941 Chevrolet. You can see the shape of the grille on the model’s midsection, and her shoes were even made out of Lucite!

This ensemble was designed, I believe, by E. T. Gregorie and was meant to complement the Mercury. Notice the belt, which was based on the Merc’s bumper guards, and a purse modeled on the hubcaps.

Photo credit: JOHN LLOYD from Concrete, Washington, United States, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

One article said this coat was made with upholstery plaid, so it must be based on Chrysler’s Highlander. Oliver Clark was likely the one who designed this modish outerwear.

This promotion was done in cooperation with Harper’s Bazaar magazine, and the clothing was actually available to be purchased on Fifth Avenue. I have no idea how well it sold, but I would absolutely purchase all of it today if still available (and I might run someone over to get to that hubcap purse).

A 1942 Buick Barn Find

While out buying car parts the other day, we noticed the seller had something very exciting sitting in one of his shops:  a genuine barn find! It is not pictured in the barn setting here, having already been retrieved from an old Nebraska farmstead, and this stop is just the beginning of the journey for this old beauty.

It is a 1942 Buick convertible, and it looks like a Series 40 Special, the most compact of Buick’s 1942 offerings with a 118-inch wheelbase. The Super and the Roadmaster, Series 50 and 70, would have the “Airfoil” front fenders that carried all the way back across the side of the car to the rear fender in a tapering contour like the one seen in this advertisement:

According to the Standard Catalog of American Cars, the ’42 Buick was produced until the first week of February, with 1,776 of those being the Series 40 convertible. The ’42 Buicks in every Series were powered by an OHV Inline Eight, and the Special engine had 248CID and 110-hp. It would have been a “blackout” car with painted trim if produced during the January 1942 wartime transition period, so the brightwork on this car indicates that it was manufactured some time prior to that date.

Notice that the advertisement above references Buick’s role in wartime production, the building of Pratt & Whitney aircraft engines:

I don’t know the back story for this Buick, and I’m not sure that I want to know since such stories are often rooted in sadness; at best, it is a project not finished and, at worst, a life interrupted. This story ends with a ray of hope, however, at least for the car. It has already been purchased and is headed back east for restoration. Here’s to a bright future for this survivor!

Mystery of the Pyramid (Hubcap)

I have two of these threaded hubcaps, but I have never been able to determine what vehicle they were on originally.

The logo in the center looks like a pyramid, and in researching that angle I discovered that there was a truck called the Red Pyramid Speed Truck. It was a product of the Service Motor Truck Company of Wabash, Indiana and was introduced in 1920.

The truck was said to be the result of four years of development, although that time span was interrupted by World War I when the Service Motor Truck factories were busy producing Liberty B trucks for the war effort.

It was advertised with the tagline “An Even Load on Any Road” due to being “scientifically cushioned,” meaning it had a unique front spring suspension. The following description was taken from a 1921 issue of The Motor Truck:

“At the front end of the truck a semi-elliptic spring is mounted crosswise, the end being carried on the axle and the center supporting the frame. This spring is pivoted on its central point, so that the front axle is perfectly free to move about this pivot. The entire truck, with this suspension, is carried on a three-point support which, in fact, cushions body, hood, radiator, seat, and steering mechanism against strains and twisting.”

This illustration accompanied the article and showed that, although the wheels were badly out of line, the twisting or strain was on the front springs, a system that was intended to result in a smoother ride.

The truck, capable of carrying loads of up to 2500 pounds, was equipped with a 32-hp OHV Midwest engine that could attain speeds of 40-45mph on good roads. Many more specifications are listed in the 1922 advertisement below.

Here are a couple of photos of the trucks that appeared in 1921 and 1922 publications, respectively.

My hubcaps are made of cast aluminum, so that would indicate some age, and the logo is similar to that of the Red Pyramid Speed Truck, but I have been unable to confirm if my caps have any connection to that early truck. If you have any information about these hubcaps, I would love to hear from you. Email me at americancarhistorian@gmail.com.

The Easy-On Cap, Part of Eaton History

Eaton has manufactured parts for automobiles since the early days of the American automobile industry. The company was initially founded in 1911 by Joseph Oriel Eaton as Torbensen Gear and Axle Company to manufacture the first gear-driven truck axle. Originally located in New Jersey, the company moved to Cleveland in 1915. In 1916, it was incorporated as the Torbensen Axle Company.

The old cap pictured above is interesting for the inscription on the inside which is a part of Eaton’s history and also helps to pinpoint the date of manufacture. It is difficult to make out in the photos, but it reads, “THE EATON AXLE & SPRING CO. EASY-ON CAP DIV.”

The Torbensen Axle Company had become the Eaton Axle & Spring Company in 1923. Throughout the twenties and thirties, the company acquired other concerns involved in the automotive business, and one of those acquisitions was the Easy-On Cap Company. The Easy-On Cap had been invented by Dr. J. S. Reid of the Cleveland Health Department who had been looking for something more efficient than the threaded cap and came up with the Easy-On which was fastened by a simple half-turn. When Eaton purchased the company in July of 1928, the company was making about one million caps per month including gas, radiator, and oil caps. The Eaton company underwent another name change in 1932 when it became the Eaton Manufacturing Company, so the cap pictured must have originated sometime between the 1928 purchase of Easy-On Cap and the 1932 name change from Eaton Axle and Spring.

The Metal Polisher’s Union was apparently peeved at Easy-On for some reason in 1929, but Easy-On was in good company with Stant, Louisville Slugger and Winchester Repeating Arms also appearing on the Union’s plaintive “We Do Not Patronize” list:

The 1926 Nash came equipped with Easy-On oil and gas caps, and one automobile that featured a stock Easy-On radiator cap was the Silver Anniversary 1929 Buick.

By 1934, it was reported that one-third of American automobile manufacturers used Eaton bumpers, springs, and valves. A 1961 story about the company’s 50th anniversary said there was at least one Eaton-made part in every American-made truck and car on the road. The Eaton company underwent additional name changes before becoming the Eaton Corporation in 1971, but whatever it calls itself, it has played an important role in the history of the American automobile.

Starting 1953 with an Allstate Engine Under the Hood and Allstate Gas in the Tank

The name “Allstate” likely makes you think of the insurance company that was founded in 1931 by Sears, Roebuck and Co., but Sears also applied the brand to a wide variety of car parts and accessories. The ubiquitous Allstate brand was even applied to rebuilt engines as seen in this 1953 advertisement with advice for starting the new year . . .

. . . . as well as gasoline as seen in this 1952 advertisement:

The Allstate brand came into existence in 1925 as the result of a name-finding contest that generated a massive response from the public. The name being sought was for a new Sears tire, and nearly one million entrants provided over two million suggestions. An army of mail openers was required to process the mountain of mail that flowed in from every state in the union and around the world, written in 25 different languages. Twenty-year-old Hans Simonson of Bismark, North Dakota, dreamed up the winning name of “Allstate,” and was rewarded with the first prize of $5,000. The clipping below shows Simonson on the right above a photo of the mail sorters sifting through the contest entries.

In addition to the many Allstate parts and accessories, Sears slapped the Allstate brand on an entire automobile in 1952. Manufactured by Kaiser-Fraser, the Allstate was a revamped Henry J and was offered in two lines with the same 4-cylinder and 6-cylinder engines that also powered the Henry J. The Allstate’s grille was somewhat different and featured two horizontal bars as seen in the photo below. Notice also the Allstate badge on this survivor on display at Pioneer Village in Minden, Nebraska:

Despite being the lowest-priced full-size sedan in the country and going 30-35 miles per gallon, the Allstate was not popular with the car-buying public and was only produced in 1952 and 1953. The insurance company, no longer owned by Sears, is all that remains of the Allstate brand.

1952 Allstate

A Race Filled with Legends

This marvelous graphic from the November 23, 1924, Pomona Bulletin shows the favorites going into that year’s Thanksgiving Day race at Ascot:

On the left is legendary Erwin “Cannon Ball” Baker, the inspiration for the Cannonball Run. Baker set many records for cross-country rides in the early years of the 1900s including a 1914 sprint from San Diego to New York, made on Indian motorcycle in just eleven days. For the Ascot race, Baker was driving a stock Jewett. The man in the center, Cliff Bergere, had a side gig as a Hollywood stuntman and participated in 16 Indy 500 races including the 1941 race in which he went the distance without a single pit stop. He also served during World War II and was a major in the US Army upon discharge. Bergere was driving for Deusenberg, and so was the man on the right, Frank Lockhart. Dubbed “The Boy Wonder,” Lockhart was a talented and innovative racer and Indy winner who met a tragic end at Daytona Beach in 1928 while making a run at the land speed record in a Stutz Black Hawk Special. Incredibly, video of the crash, blamed on tire failure, can be found here on YouTube.

There was another familiar name there for that Thanksgiving Day race, and just look at this colorful write-up about him:

There were 43 starters in all that day, driving approximately 250 miles before a crowd of 50,000 that included celebrities like Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks. The victory went to Lockhart who slid into first place on the 31st lap and drove a masterful race, finishing in 3 hours, 21 minutes and 40 seconds. He made only one stop with 25 miles to go, and that was to lighten his load by ditching his mechanic. This photo of the action appeared in the LA Times:

The caption above the photo reads, “Photo shows Frank Lockhart, driving his No. 27 Duesenberg, coming down one of the sharp turns with C. A. Chamberlain, at the wheel of the No. 25 Chrysler, close behind. Lockhart, whose speed on the turns won him the race, almost got ruined in this particular instance as Chamberlain was hot on his trail. Inset shows “The Boy Wonder” as he finished the race.”

Cannon Ball Baker had tire problems but managed to cross the finish line on a rim exactly four minutes after Lockhart to take second place. Bergere finished ninth. Unfortunately, there was no mention of what happened to Nebraska’s Noel Bullock, but you can read more about him here: Bullock, Garrett, and the Franklin Mile Speedway: The “Real Stuff” of Nebraska Racing History

A Dictator on Ice

So many fun, and occasionally dangerous, advertising gimmicks were utilized in the early years of the automobile industry. This innovative approach from Blue Sunoco Fuel and Studebaker appeared in December of 1933 and featured an ice-covered Studebaker Dictator:

Here in Nebraska, it is not unusual for an automobile to look like an iceberg on wheels when left outside during wintry conditions, but this Studebaker was a brand-new car, driven right off the production line and into the plant’s refrigeration room. There, with Blue Sunoco fuel in the tank and Sunoco motor oil in the crankcase, the car was loaded down with huge cakes of ice. Then the temperature of the room was brought down to 20 degrees below zero and a wind machine, blowing at a rate of 50 mph, sprayed water on the ice-covered car. In this frigid state, the car was left to sit for almost 48 hours.

During the above process, one window of the car was left open. This enabled one Miss Eloise Metz of South Bend, wearing layers of warm clothing, to be placed through the open window along with heating pads and hot coffee. Once she was ensconced in the ice-laden car, that window was sealed tightly with ice. Then the car was towed to the business center of South Bend where a large crowd and several timekeepers had gathered. Miss Metz was told to start that frozen car, and start it did, taking only three-fifths of a second to do so.

That seems like a fairly effective marketing technique. One has to question the approach of christening the car with the distinctly un-American name of “Dictator” in the first place, however. I have heard it said that the term “Dictator” was chosen because it meant that the car was dictating the standard for the industry, but then why were the other cars in the Studebaker stable called the President and the Commander? Also, check out the caption under this 1934 photo:

That relaxed attitude toward authoritarianism did not last long with Stalin, Mussolini, and Hitler operating nefariously on the international stage, and people soon realized the Studebaker wasn’t the only dictator that should be put on ice. The Dictator name did not age well, and the Studebaker company quietly retired it a couple of years later.