We’ve featured this particular dual cowl Duesenberg by LeBaron before. It’s in the collection of the Gilmore museum, which is where the photos at that link were taken. This set is from the 2015 Concours of America at St. John’s. All Duesenbergs are special but the LeBaron bodied “sweep panel” dual cowl phaeton literally set the style. There were 481 Duesenberg Model Js built. LeBaron built bodies for 38 Model Js, 27 of them dual cowl phaetons. Actually, the first Model J built, #J-101, was a LeBaron dual cowl phaeton with LeBaron’s signature “sweep panel” two tone styling. LeBaron went on to build 18 Model J Duesenbergs with that style body, a bit more sporting with its cut-down doors, a cowl that echoed the curved of the sweep panel, and a lower beltline than traditional “barrelside” phaetons. The sweep panel look was so popular that over the years a number of Model J sedans have been rebodied in that LeBaron style. This particular Duesenberg, J-111 / 2133, was the tenth Model J built. It was displayed by Duesenberg in 1929 at auto salons in New York, Chicago and Los Angeles and then used as a demonstrator at the company’s LA dealership. Duesenbergs were popular with Hollywood actors and other celebrities and this phaeton’s provenance includes being owned by the son of comedian Buster Keaton. It’s now part of the collection of the Gilmore Car Museum.
E. L. Cord and the Duesenberg brothers built 481 Model J Duesenbergs, most as rolling chassis whose buyers had them fitted with custom bodywork. According to Wikipedia, 378 of those cars are known to survive in one form or another. The way it was explained to me is that there are three different kinds of “real” Duesenbergs. There are numbers matching engine and chassis combinations that still wear the original bodywork. Then there are more or less intact chassis that have been rebodied at some point after the classic era. Finally there are those cars assembled from parts. This Murphy bodied dual cowl phaeton is no agglomeration of parts but is as real a deal as a Duesenberg can get. One of only three dual cowl phaeton Duesenbergs by Murphy, it’s been owned by Charles Letts Jr. since 1954, when he paid $4,000 for it.
That was a goodly sum 61 years ago, more than enough to buy most Cadillac models. Still, Letts probably made a good purchase since a fully authentic Duesenberg with an original body is today worth at least a million dollars and maybe as much as three million.
For years it’s was well known that just 47 Tucker cars existed. Preston Tucker’s company managed to finish 37 production examples before he was effectively shut down by the SEC. Another 13 cars were left uncompleted on the assembly line. Twelve of those cars were finished soon after the Tucker Corporation folded. Another was assembled from parts in the 1980s. Over time, four Tuckers have been destroyed. In addition to the cars, the Tucker factory assembled a rolling chassis to use as a mule for testing Preston Tucker’s novel gearless automatic transmission that he hoped to eventually offer. That chassis was numbered 1052 and eventually was gathered up in a lot of NOS Tucker parts.
A couple of Tucker enthusiasts tried to assemble those parts but it wasn’t until Tucker fan John Schuler acquired them that the project got off the ground in 2010, more than 60 years after Tucker went out of business. While there was almost a complete body, Classic & Exotic Service of Troy, Michigan fabricated a new roof, floor pan and rear doors and completed the assembly.
Tucker #1052 had its first public showing at the 2015 Concours of America at St. John’s, where it won a blue ribbon.
In the past, Cars In Depth hasn’t featured very much close-up photography because our main 3D rig for still shots has too wide an intra-lens distance (aka “stereo base”) to shoot details like badges and hood ornaments. The most important rule in stereo photography is to make sure you’re far enough from your target to avoid extreme parallax. I call that avoiding the “finger in front of your nose” effect. Normally you shouldn’t get any closer than 30 times the distance between the lens centers.
The JVC GS-TD1 camcorder we use to shoot video, though, has just a 32mm stereo base, and it has a still photo mode (though the resolution isn’t a high as with our still rig). That means the closest we can get is only about a meter, just right for shooting hood ornaments. The RM Sotheby’s Motor City auction this year was a great opportunity to test it out. They had a number of prewar classics, including Packards, Pierce Arrows, Cadillacs and a Duesenberg that date to the era when drivers called them “mascots”, not hood ornaments. One has to take care about the background behind the target, since when you’re doing close up work, there can be extreme parallax between the target and items behind it, but so far for the most part I’m happy with the results.
This white Corvair Rampside pickup with blue stripes is almost as nice as the blue 1961 Rampside with white stripes we featured in the previous post. Being a ’63, it’s a bit rarer than the ’61. 1961 was the first year for the Corvair vans and pickups and they did pretty well, selling about 11,000 units, but in just two years sales had dropped to less than 20% of that, just over 2,000 trucks. By then, though, the Ford Econoline and its pickup variant had been introduced. Like the Rampside and the VW pickup, it had a forward control seating position for the driver, but unlike those rear-engined trucks, the Ford Falcon based Econoline had a conventional front-engine rear wheel drive layout, allowing for a flat loading floor. The VW and Corvair vans and trucks had stepped cargo bays.
The 1961 Corvair 95 Rampside pickup that belongs to Bill Beckley just might be the nicest one in existence. It’s certainly the nicest Corvair pickup I’ve ever seen – of course I’ve only seen four or maybe five of them in person. They made less than 18,000 Corvair pickups from 1961-65, so you’re not likely to come across one in any kind of condition very often. Either way, this one’s a beauty.
You may not realize it but this 1968 double cab VW pickup is very rare, at least on this side of the Atlantic Ocean. In early 1964, the United States enacted the so-called Chicken Tax, a 25% tariff on brandy and light commercial vehicles, in response to French and German restrictions on importation of American chickens. The result is that in 1964, sales of the commercial versions of Volkswagen’s Type 2 dropped by 2/3rds. By the end of the decade, VW decided it wasn’t worth it to even bother to import vans and pickups. The 2nd generation Type 2 was introduced in 1968. That means finding a “bay window” VW pickup in America is a rare occurance.
This ’67 VW pickups has the framework for the optional canvas top you could get for the bed. It also shows one of the great things about air-cooled VWs. While I was taking these photos, the owner was replacing an exhaust port gasket. It’s a myth that air-cooled Vee Dubs were reliable. No more reliable than any other car of their vintage. What they were was that they were easy to fix. John Muir taught a generation car mechanics their first lessons (and created the “for the complete idiot” genre of do it yourself guides) with How To Keep Your Volkswagen Alive, whose title indicates just how prone vintage VWs were to break down.
This is a vehicle that’s so cute you almost want to hug it. It has toylike proportions, but is actually a very practical vehicle. It’s obviously been lowered, something pretty common with Type 2 enthusiasts.
Though I like VW Buses, and even have owned a couple, I’m not an expert on the topic. Since this split-window pickup didn’t have a card in the window, I can’t tell you what year it is. They stopped making split-windows in 1967 so let’s just say it’s old. Old, and very cool. The beds and tailgate are a different color so I’m guessing those aren’t original to the truck, which was probably used as a flat bed, something the VW pickup could do that conventional pickups could not.