There were some really special cars and trucks in Kearney for Cruise Nite this year. If you weren’t there, here is a sample of what you missed:
Scenes from Cruise Nite
Original Horsepower to Solar Power
A couple of recent events here in Nebraska made me think about how far we’ve come in terms of transportation (and where we might go from here)! In the early part of our nation’s history, Nebraska served as a gateway to the West. Hundreds of thousands of pioneers, miners and trappers began the trek to settle the west by following the Platte River across the state. The Oregon, California and Mormon Trails all passed through Nebraska, and the ruts made by those early travelers as they creaked along in oxen-drawn wagons are still visible in many places.
The settlers craved word from home, and one “thread that tied East to West” was the Pony Express mail service which carried letters from Missouri to California. The riders covered nearly 2,000 miles in 10 days, and they, too, crossed Nebraska following the Platte River. The ride was a dangerous one, and ads for riders read as follows: “Young, skinny, wiry fellows, not over 18. Must be expert riders. Willing to risk death daily. Orphans preferred.” Even though a lasting part of Western lore (Buffalo Bill Cody was even a rider), the Express only operated for a period of 18 months, from April of 1860 to October of 1861. Each year, members of the National Pony Express Association recreate the Pony Express with a commemorative re-ride. This year, my family and I made the early morning trip to see the mail hand-off at Fort Kearny:
The second event is going on right now, the American Solar Challenge. This event is a biennial competition in which college teams design, build and drive solar-powered cars across more than 1700 miles of open road. This endurance event started at Lewis & Clark Landing in Omaha and loosely follows the Oregon Trail from Nebraska to Oregon. Heavy fog was blamed for a slow start and the lead cars didn’t make it to the first stop at Stuhr Museum in Grand Island until around noon.
The cars have no air conditioning, which must be miserable in the July heat. They also have no power steering and, while they can go faster, they were traveling at a speed of approximately 45 mph. Each car has something in the neighborhood of $200,000 worth of solar panels installed. These panels need to be cooled to increase efficiency, and this is the Western Sydney University team using distilled water to bring down the temperatures of the panels.
These modes of transportation from the past and possibly the future are certainly interesting, but for now I will happily stick with the horsepower I have sitting in my garage. By the way, if you are anywhere near Kearney, Nebraska, this weekend, the town will be crawling with classic horsepower for Cruise Night 2018. Hope to see you there!
Studebaker: Part II
In 1902, Studebaker started making “horseless carriages” and sold their first one just four days before the company’s 50th anniversary. By this time, John Mohler (J.M.) was the sole remaining brother. America quickly fell in love with the automobile and Studebaker sold an astonishing 9.5 million dollars’ worth of them just seven years later in 1909.
One of these early automobiles was the Flanders 20. The 20 had some design defects, and J.M. wanted to do something about it. Stating that Studebaker had always backed up its goods with a guarantee showing good faith, the company dispatched hundreds of mechanics to fix every 20 that had been sold. Likely the first recall, this endeavor cost Studebaker $1 million and said much about the Studebaker ethics.
The Studebaker was popular in Europe and, by 1912, Studebaker accounted for 37% of cars exported. World events would soon affect the company again and, in 1914, 81-year-old J.M. saw the world go to war. The last of the Studebaker boys died in March, 1917, before he could see the war end. During the war Studebaker made many products to aid the war effort including artillery wheels, ambulances and water carts as well as harness sets and saddles. Studebaker even developed a caterpillar tractor at the request of the British.
The 1920s were a boom time for American companies, and Studebaker was no exception.
By 1922, the company had sales of $133 million. Albert Erskine was now in charge of the company, and Studebaker named a new small car after him, the Erskine Six. In 1928, Studebaker bought stock in the Pierce-Arrow Motor Car Company, and Erskine boasted that they had a car for anyone in any price range. Dividends were issued at 90% of the profits in 1929. Then, in October, the stock market crashed and the nation plunged into depression.
Times were tough in the 1930s. Erskine believed a new, small, low-priced car was the way to go and so Studebaker introduced the Rockne Six, named for Notre Dame football coach Knute Rockne. This was a sad chapter in Studebaker’s history as Rockne was killed in an airplane crash in March of 1931. Studebaker was using capital to continue issuing dividends and, by 1933, the company owed banks $6 million and went into receivership. Erskine committed suicide. Harold Vance and Paul Hoffman steered the company through reorganization, and Studebaker began making the popular and reasonably-priced Champion in 1939.
The world went back to war, and this time Studebaker focused on building trucks and aircraft engines for the war effort. Studebaker also designed and built the M-29 tracked personnel and supply carrier known as the “Weasel” that could attain high speeds over any type of terrain. The Weasel continued to see service in Korea and Vietnam. This one is at the Heartland Museum of Military Vehicles in Lexington, Nebraska:
While the other car companies were selling recycled versions of their pre-war models, Studebaker was “First by Far with a Postwar Car” when it came out with all new styling in 1947. Strongly influenced by aircraft design, the postwar Studebaker had features like a gun-sight hood ornament, wrap-around rear windows and non-glare, black light instrument panel illumination originally developed for fighter planes. They earned the nickname “Coming-and-Going cars,” because both ends looked so similar.
Studebaker re-styled for 1950 and continued the aircraft theme with “an airplane-type hood” that was “flanked by deep front fenders of the air foil design” and also featured the chrome “spinner” in the nose and an airplane-like hood ornament. The design was revolutionary and people either loved it or hated it. Seriously, what’s not to love?
The last chapter of Longstreet’s A Century on Wheels is titled “And Now Tomorrow”. Unfortunately, Studebaker didn’t have too many tomorrows left. They merged with Packard in 1954 and had some successes such as the Lark, but eventually closed the doors for good in 1966. It is too bad this historic American company didn’t last another 100 years. They probably would have if the Studebaker boys had still been in charge.
The Fabulous Studebaker Boys
I recently found an old book called A Century On Wheels, The Story of Studebaker which was written by Stephen Longstreet for the Studebaker centennial. Here’s the kicker, it was written in 1952. In 1952, Studebaker had already been around for 100 years! The maker of the iconic bullet nose not only started out making wagons, it dominated the world in wagon making. The Studebaker story is a fascinating one about a group of brothers who were able to transition from building wagons to manufacturing automobiles using a business model predicated on smart business practices, hard work, and fair dealing.
In 1736, three brothers named Studebecker arrived in Philadelphia from Frefeld, Germany. They Americanized their name, as many did, and became known as Studebaker. One of their descendants, John, moved to a place called Getty’s Town and, as more Germans settled there, it became known as Gettysburg. John worked as a blacksmith and had five sons, Henry, Clem, John Mohler, Peter and Jacob.
The family eventually settled in South Bend, Indiana (by way of Ohio) and Henry and Clem started a blacksmithing business in 1852 with only $68 in capital. They wanted to build wagons, but business was slow. John Mohler (J.M.) traded one of these wagons to a wagon train for passage to California. He intended to mine for gold and ended up in a town called Hangtown with 50 cents in his pocket. The official name of the town was Old Dry Diggens, but it was called Hangtown because of the local, and rather enthusiastic, vigilante activity.
As soon as J.M. arrived, a man named Joe Hinds began asking the group if there was a wagon maker in their midst. Everyone pointed at J. M. and Hinds offered him a job. At first, he declined, because he was there to look for gold, but reconsidered after receiving some good advice from a local citizen. He went to work repairing stagecoaches and making pick axes and wheelbarrows. He made so many of those he became known as Wheelbarrow Johnny.
J.M. stayed in Hangtown (which eventually became Placerville) from 1853 to 1858. His brothers, Henry and Clem, were still in business but they desperately needed capital. Due to his hard work in the gold fields of California, J.M. now had $8,000 and he was ready to return home and turn that capital into something historic.
Henry wanted to be a farmer, so J.M. bought him out. In 1862, the Union came calling, needing all types of wagons for northern troops to use in fighting the Civil War. They even ordered a beer wagon for the German troops! All of this business required expansion, so their brother Peter, who had been operating a general store, joined them and their company became Studebaker Brothers.
The Studebakers were smart and effective salesmen. Instead of waiting for farmers to come to their factory to buy wagons, they would take them directly out to the farms. After the war, when there was a western expansion, the Studebakers erected a 75×60’ showroom for their wagons at St. Joseph, Missouri, a gateway for those headed west. Next to the showroom they developed a camping ground so their customer base had a place to stay while looking over their wagons. Clever strategies like these, along with effective newspaper advertising and great slogans like “Our house is founded on the farmer” helped fuel additional expansion. By 1874, the company had 500 employees and built over 11,000 vehicles. The youngest son, Jacob joined the firm.
Studebaker was everywhere. The firm supplied most of the wagons for army posts in the west. When General Custer met his demise at Little Big Horn, he had been separated from his supply train of Studebakers. During the Spanish American War, the government wanted 500 wagons within 36 hours, and Studebaker delivered within 24! Orders for Studebakers poured in from around the world and were used in the Boxer Rebellion and the Boer War. Winston Churchill was even sleeping in a Studebaker when he was captured by the Boers. The world was changing, however, and Studebaker had to change with it.
To be continued . . . . .
Studebaker wagon
Happy Independence Day!
America was not built on fear. America was built on courage, on imagination and an unbeatable determination to do the job at hand.
Harry S. Truman
Coming soon . . . . .the Studebaker story.
Ford Model K
Anyone taking the time to read this likely knows that Henry Ford’s story did not begin with the Model T. Indeed, there was nearly an alphabet’s worth of automobiles leading up to the famous Tin Lizzie. One world record-setting example was the Model K. This is a picture of a Model K found at one of our nearby museums, Pioneer Village, which you really should visit if you have an interest in the history of transportation in America:
The Model K was the result of a partnership between Henry Ford and Alexander Young Malcomson, a successful coal merchant. According to the book The Cars That Henry Ford Built by Beverly Rae Kimes, the two went into business together in 1902, with Malcomson supplying the financing. Their goal was to develop a marketable automobile, but the two argued over what type of cars to build. Ford wanted to build light, inexpensive cars and didn’t care for the big Model K.
The Model K had a 6-cylinder, vertical, 4 ½” bore x 4 ¼” stroke, 40 hp engine. It had a 114” wheel base and weighed 2400 pounds. It had a pressed steel frame and a 15-gallon gas tank under the seat that was good for 250 miles. And just look at those brass headlights:
The world record involving the Model K was set in a 1907 24-hour Detroit endurance race. I searched the back issues of our local paper to see if there was any mention of this race. There was not. Our local paper did cover many world records set that year in activities like bowling, pole vaulting, ballooning, shooting and stenography. The paper even covered a cow in Fond du Lac that beat the world’s butter record, but apparently the car race just didn’t warrant coverage. They should have put it on the front page, because it sounds like it was a nail-biter.
According to a write-up (found here) one of the Ford drivers by the name of Lorimer was driving at such speeds that onlookers thought each turn would be his last. According to the writer, “It became evident to all that one of three things must happen before the day was done: (1) Either the boy who was driving with such apparent reckless disregard for consequences, would be killed in one of his mad slides around the turn; (2) the Ford car would give way under the terrific strain-and those who did not know the Ford construction,- lightness, flexibility and strength,-thought this must surely happen inside the hour; or (3) the Ford would win.” The Ford Model K did win by covering 1135 miles, which exceeded the previous record by over 300 miles, and maintaining an average speed of 47.2 mph.
Regarding the Malcomson-Ford partnership, it had been absorbed into the newly established Ford Motor Company. To work around Malcomson, Ford then started Ford Manufacturing Company in 1903 with James Couzens. Malcomson saw the writing on the wall and sold his interest to Ford in July of 1906. Ford went on to produce the car he wanted, the Model T, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Nikola Tesla Speedometer
We pulled this old speedometer out of an ancient barn down by Nebraska City, and it is in admittedly sad shape. Even though it has broken glass and a gaping hole where the clock should be, it still has a place on my office shelf where I keep some of my favorite things. I like it because, in very small print along the edge of the face, it says, “TESLA PATENT DEC 1916”.
I took to the internet to verify that this was a reference to THE Tesla, Nikola Tesla, and I found this at the Museum of the History of Science website:
This museum is a department at Oxford University and houses a collection of historic scientific instruments. Their website states that this speedometer was made in collaboration with the Waltham Watch Company using Nikola Tesla’s patent, and that Tesla’s patent was the very first issued for a speedometer. Wow!
As noted in this Waltham advertisement, the speedometer was also unique in that it operated by air friction:
I am no Tesla, but apparently the air friction was generated by metal surfaces (revolving brass and aluminum cups) and, unlike cable-operated speedometers, was free of any inaccuracies caused by grease and dirt. If you are interested, you can read more in a 1916 Scientific American article by clicking here or in the patent itself by clicking here.
This speedometer would have been found in a higher-end automobile like a Lincoln, Pierce-Arrow, Rolls Royce, Lafayette or this gorgeous 1922 Packard:
Interestingly, the Museum also notes that this instrument was likely the very FIRST to measure speed, distance and time. It is a great relic from the beginning of the automotive age and I am happy to own it, even if it does look like it was backed over by a truck.
Oldsmobile Rocket
Well, it sure DOES pay to go rooting around in old barns. Just look at what we found in Kansas recently:
Yes, these are an original pair of wire looms for a 1950 Oldsmobile 303. The 303 was the first mass-produced overhead valve (OHV) V8 in 1949. These are 1950 wire looms because they are gold with red letters, not natural metal with red letters like the 1949 version. A quick search on the internet reveals many arguments over whether the Oldsmobile was the earliest example of American muscle (that’s right) or whether something like the Ford Mustang deserves that title (and that’s just wrong).
Oldsmobile appropriately called their short-stroke, high-compression OHV engine the “Rocket”, and it sure made the automobile industry sit up and take notice. The other manufacturers were producing their own versions by the mid-1950s, but not before Oldsmobile impacted the record books by winning NASCAR championships in 1949, 1950 and 1951. Even though the Rocket is a great name, Oldsmobile engineers originally wanted to name the engine after Charles F. Kettering, the retired GM research VP, but GM policy prevented that from happening. Too bad, because Kettering more than deserved the honor.
Nicknamed “Boss” Kettering, his is one of those uniquely American stories that starts with very humble beginnings on a farm in Ohio in 1876 and ends with an estate worth more than $200 million upon his death in 1958. In between, he spent his life seeking solutions to the problems of everyday life even when, or especially when, others were claiming it was impossible. He made valuable contributions in the fields of medicine and aviation, helped develop new types of fuel, and even developed the refrigerant Freon. He co-founded Dayton Engineering Laboratories Company (better known as Delco) and invented the electric starter for Henry Leland of Cadillac, making Cadillac the first automobile without the dangerous and laborious hand crank. Delco, of course, was later purchased by GM. Upon his retirement from GM, Kettering held more than 140 patents. He was a philosopher as well as an inventor and the source of some of my favorite quotes such as, “If you want to kill any idea in the world, get a committee working on it.” In light of current affairs, however, I think I’ll end with this particularly relevant quote:
“We have a lot of people revolutionizing the world because they’ve never had to present a working model.”
GMC Model CCKW Trucks
Fortunately for the world, America was the birthplace of the automotive industry. Having such a vast supply of cars and trucks close at hand enabled the United States Army to become the first military organization in the world to be fully motorized and to respond accordingly when advancing Allied forces needed supplies during World War II. The Allies were able to get thousands of tons of supplies where they were needed daily by developing a massive convoy of supply trucks known as the Red Ball Express.
The Red Ball Express operated around the clock. According to the National World War II Museum, there were, on average, 900 “deuce-and-a-half” trucks operating on the Red Ball Express highway at any one time. “Deuce-and-a-half” is just one of the nicknames for GMC model CCKW cargo trucks like this one, located at the Heartland Museum of Military Vehicles in Lexington Nebraska.
Also referred to as the Two and a Half, the Jimmy and the 6×6, these trucks are on my mind because I found this 1941 maintenance manual under a pile of junk in a dusty old antique store the other day:
The CCKW was a six-wheel-drive vehicle with a payload of two and a half tons. It was approximately 7 feet tall and 7 feet wide. The model 353 had a longer wheel base of 21 feet, while the 352 was shorter at 19 feet. The engine was a 6 cylinder 270 with a max speed of 45 mph.
Driver’s view:
Tool kit:
Amazingly, this old War Department memo is still stuck in the front cover:
As you can see, the memo was issued by order of General George Catlett Marshall, the man Winston Churchill called the true architect of victory in the West European arena. He was a great American, and he did it, in part, with this great American truck.
