Photography by Nathan Deremer
SUVsUsing the word “rare” to describe some vehicles built in the postwar era, particularly after the mid-Fifties, usually conjures the adage, “It’s rare because nobody wanted it when it was new.” While it may apply to select vehicles of then-questionable styling, it certainly doesn’t apply to all rare postwar vehicles. One such instance is this 1967 Jeep Super Wagoneer.
You’re forgiven for not knowing of it. Many haven’t, even among the Jeep faithful. When the name does surface, casual and veteran enthusiasts tend to assume Super Wagoneer is spoken in error, and that the Jeep of discussion is actually a Grand Wagoneer. The reality here is that the Wagoneer Limited, renamed Grand Wagoneer in 1984, was introduced in ’78, long after Super Wagoneer had made such a splash; it reigns as the most significant vehicle to carve a path for the modern luxury SUV.
To understand, one must look back to when Jeep - then under Willys-Overland ownership - was credited for introducing the first all-steel station wagon in 1946. Aside from providing room for seven passengers, the wagon could have been optioned with four-wheel-drive. Styled by Brooks Stevens, Jeep’s new wagon was bold considering the brand had but one vehicle to offer: the CJ-2A. Yet the wagon was still a basic utility vehicle.
Photo by Nathan Deremer
Therein lies the charm, and success, of the pioneering Jeep wagon: It wasn’t like other sophisticatedstation wagons on the market. It was unique in offering the security and superior all-weather performance of four-wheel-drive. Plain and simple. What’s more, the formula remained when Jeep marketers and product planners realized, like all manufacturers, that Americanswere demanding more features, options, power, and style in everyday vehicles. Jeeps initial answer was the October 1962 release of the two- or four-wheel-drive Wagoneer.
Longer and roomier than the outgoing wagon, and available in two- and four-door guise, the Wagoneer became the first four-wheel-drive wagon to offer an independent front suspension and, more significantly, the first four-wheel-drive wagon offered with an automatic transmission. The Wagoneer still boasted Jeep’s superior ground clearance, despite a lower step-in height for six passengers, and it had more features and car-like styling, the latter thanks to last-minute design tweaks by Stevens.
What Jeep’s front office likely didn’t see on the horizon was the SUV market’s popularity boom, or the demand for more luxurious versions. The need for a high-style version of the Wagoneer made itself apparent soon enough, and Jeep’s answer was the Super Wagoneer. Introduced for the 1966 model year, it was billed as, “The most unusual luxury wagon ever built.” It was hardly an exaggeration.
Photo by Nathan Deremer
This is a Series I Super Wagoneer, as distinguished by its factory-installed 270-hp AMC 327-cu.in. engine
When unveiled, there was nothing remotely like the Super Wagoneer. Standard features included a 270-hp 327-cu.in. four-barrel “Vigilante” V-8; GM’s Turbo Hydra-Matic automatic transmission with floor-mounted shifter; bucket seats and a center console; carpeted passenger compartment, lower door panels and cargo area with chrome skid rails; chrome bows in the interior headliner (on later models); a vinyl top; seven-position tilt-steering wheel; heater and defroster; power rear tailgate window; roof luggage rack; E-Z Eye tinted glass in all window frames; AM radio with antenna; power steering and brakes; air conditioning; unique wheel covers with spinners; and a glove box lamp. Options were few: an electric clock, an available limited-slip differential, and four-wheel-drive.
The Super Wagoneer’s color choices were restricted to Empire Blue, Glacier White, Indian Ceramic, and Prairie Gold, complemented by “fashion-styled” vinyl interiors in Marlin Blue, Charcoal, and President Red. Front bucket seats had an elongated embossed Jeep emblem on the back. Exteriors were highlighted by gold-anodized panels with stainless steel trim and Super Wagoneer front fender emblems.
The new Jeep oozed luxury, but it didn’t come cheaply. Super Wagoneers started at $5,980 ($56,786 when adjusted for inflation). To put that in perspective, the SUV sat in the same 1966 price bracket as a Cadillac DeVille sedan, Imperial Crown two-door hardtop, and Lincoln Continental sedan.
Photo by Nathan Deremer
Interiors were festooned with luxurious accoutrements including a full-length console between bucket seats.
The first example was produced in October 1965, and although the dealer publication, Jeep News International, stated that “The Jeep Super Wagoneer . . . will make its debut in U.S. dealers’ showrooms during December,” an official press release from Kaiser-Jeep announcing the new vehicle didn’t occur until March 30, 1966. Understandably, the Super Wagoneer’s first year on the market was abbreviated. Its status as a bona fide rarity today was further cemented by the Super Wagoneer’s scant two-year production run that preceded is cancellation early in the ’69 run.
Jeep’s celebrity ad pitchman, Danny Thomas, had one (number 37). So did Kaiser-Jeep Corp. Chairman Edgar F. Kaiser (number 487), but they were among a small number of actual owners. According to Danielle Szostak-Viers at Chrysler Historical Services, production records were never kept at Kaiser-Jeep on just how many Super Wagoneers were built. Among the experts, there is some disagreement, too, but based on Vehicle Identification Numbers, it’s generally believed 1,485 were built in total: 1,299 Series I examples fitted with AMC’s 327-cu.in. V-8; and 186 Series II units equipped with Buick’s 350-cu.in. V-8. Series I VIN’s begin with “141D 100001” and Series II VIN’s with “1414D 300001.”
Mt. Dora, Florida, resident Mike Adams knows his Jeeps. Aside from owning several late-60’s Wagoneers within his 30-Jeep collection, Mike has extensive experience restoring an array of Willys-Jeep vehicles. So, when Mike found this rare 1967 Jeep Super Wagoneer advertised online, he jumped at the opportunity. The caveat was its location - stuck in an Eastern Tennessee cow pasture - and its condition.
Photo by Nathan Deremer
According to Mike, “It was practically buried up to its rocker panels and had rusted quarter panels, floors, gutters, and cowl. It needed everything. The good news was that it was 95 percent complete, had a clear title, and it was a real Super Wagoneer - number 736 - loaded with extras.” And, it just happened to be Empire Blue, Mike’s preferred color of the four available.
The Jeep also had two compelling features that Mike never expected to see on a Super Wagoneer: a factory PTO Ramsey winch with winch bumper; and a factory delete of the standard vinyl roof. “This was no suburban hauler. It was a work vehicle that ran the backroads using its 4x4 option in the winter with an occasional winch recovery before it was finally parked,” Mike says. “It was the first Super Wagoneer I had ever seen,” he adds. So, $1,500 later, the Jeep was loaded on Mike’s trailer bound for Florida. “It was probably one of the worst vehicles I’ve ever purchased,” Mike admits.
How did Mike know the Jeep had the vinyl top delete option? Only on the Super Wagoneer were the rain gutters shortened four inches to accommodate the vinyl roof. This vehicle not only had shortened gutters, but it also lacked evidence of any trim at the bottom of the C-pillar where the vinyl top would have stopped.
Photo by Nathan Deremer
Once back home, Mike fully assessed the Jeep and carefully tried to determine a budget for its restoration. That idea quickly dissipated, and reality set in. “It was a roller, so that was a good start. But you can’t pick up a catalog and order Super Wagoneer trim, or a padded dash. So, I told myself it was an investment in a very rare and distinctive SUV that would overshadow every other Wagoneer I’ve seen,” Mike says.
To accomplish this, Mike worked with Dan Stiteler of Leesburg Auto Body in Leesburg, Florida, on what would prove to be a four-year project. Dan and his staff managed the exterior restoration. This was pivotal. According to Mike, “Some of the stainless-steel trim on the sides and rear, along with the anodized textured die-stamped trim panels, are unique to the Super Wagoneer, and the right and left side are not interchangeable. Good luck finding them. It’s very rare to find even one piece, much less the set. If there were 1,485 Super Wagoneers made, that trim must have only been made 1,485 times! It’s very thin and extremely fragile.”
Dan’s team also rebuilt all the mechanical systems, including the engine, transmission, front transfer case, and rear differential. Ongoing simultaneously was Mike’s unwavering quest for NOS parts, as well as refurbished OEM parts from other Super Wagoneer donors. That’s right, Mike found two more Super Wagoneers during the first six months of the project and purchased both for parts. With so few survivors, Mike found himself using what he could to make one complete, authentic example.
Photo by Nathan Deremer
“One of the best days of my life was finding five NOS Super Wagoneer hubcaps and a pair of front fender gunsights in Texas - in the original packaging,” Mike says. “The interior has a new custom molded dash patterned after the original; seat and door vinyl are NOS, as are a majority of the impossible-to-find interior items. I hunted for parts for three years to make this happen.”
All the hard work paid off. Mike’s Super Wagoneer debuted in 2019 garnering AACA First Junior and Senior Awards during the year, followed by an AACA National Award in ’20. Not only is the luxury SUV a showstopper, but it’s also an attention-getter and the subject of curiosity wherever it appears. It should also be noted that Mike has used his Super Wagoneer beyond the show circuit.
“Admittedly, I’m nervous as hell driving it. It’s one rock chip away from tragedy. This is a piece of history and deserves the best. But it’s really enjoyable to drive, has great power with the AMC 327-cu.in. V-8, and is surprisingly a good handling vehicle,” Mike says.
When asked if he is crazy enough to restore another, Mike smiles. “I have a 1968 edition in much better condition that’s about 80 percent there.”
Recent
Photo: Provided By Author
I had been into cars since childhood, so this was a magical job. I was part of a crew of six or seven that worked for tips, and we wore orange coverall uniforms so that we were easily seen at night. We routinely parked and returned more than 400 cars on a busy Saturday, with parties in the afternoon and then again at night, together with public dining.
Jockeying cars for position in shrinking lanes during return rush times made me a better and more precise driver. Another benefit was that I developed a higher appreciation for well-designed dashboards, budding smart controls, and quality upholstery. I preferred gauges to warning lamps, and I intensely disliked the flashing green and yellow dashboard fuel economy indicators that seemed unwelcome in luxury cars. The only way to make the annoying indicator stay green was to coast.
As a crew, we elbowed each other to park the hot imports, such as BMW’s 2002, Datsun’s Z variants, the first Honda Accords, Toyota Celicas, and less frequently, Volkswagen Sciroccos. These were all well-equipped, light, quick, and easy to park. It was also possible to shift them into higher gears for test drives by taking the long way around to the lower back lot. As far as I knew, none of us ever got a Porsche 911 out of second. Our boss knew the joyride risk, so we had to keep numbered dashboard tickets in sequence for assigned spaces that discouraged long drives around the property.
Photo: Hemmings Archives
I have many fond memories of the job. To start, the things people left in their vehicles were nothing short of amazing. There were open bills with private information in plain view, and mail of every other conceivable variety, as well as checkbooks, laundry, arts, and crafts in all stages of non-completion, sticky food wrappers, and other trash. I also quickly learned that a tip amount didn’t always correspond to the expense or condition of the car after one guest left a caged guinea pig in his 1967 Pontiac Le Mans when he arrived late for a wedding reception. Aside from needing to be washed and vacuumed, that car was quite fragrant. It was a dry day, so I lowered the side windows, and we took turns checking the pet as we ran to and from other vehicles. Later, the guest told me he was glad the party was over and was eager to reunite the guinea pig with his young daughter. Having noticed us checking on the pet, the car owner gave me the biggest tip I ever got to fetch a car.
Another unusual thing happened while parking a 1975 Buick LeSabre sedan. Two people got out and went inside for dinner and as I got in immediately noticed the aroma of freshly baked bagels emanating from two gigantic bags that took most of the rear seat, nearly reaching the headliner. After parking the car, I was spooked by a low voice from the far-right of the back seat that asked, “Howee doin’?” I had not seen the slight fellow partially hidden by one of the tall bags, and all I could ask was if he intended to go inside. He said he didn’t want a fancy dinner, just a nap. He offered bagels to the entire crew, which were delicious, and stayed in the car and slept for two hours.
Rare cars would roll up on occasion, including one almost everyone guessed was a Maserati, though I recognized it as a Facel Vega. The exhaust growl of the Chrysler Hemi V-8 was positively rhapsodic, and the grand tourer had polished wood throughout its interior. We parked it in a special spot on an outer aisle near the front door and overheard customers speculate what it was while waiting for their own cars. When the tweedy owner eventually came out, my boss, Ray, was determined to sound smart and amuse himself. He conspicuously and formally signaled, “Christopher, the Facel Vega, please.” Seeing where we placed his pride and joy, the owner gleamed. He may have enjoyed that moment more than his dinner.
Another story involved a regular customer’s Cadillac Seville during lunch hour, when Ray often let me work alone so he could get a break. Two County Sheriff’s detectives stopped to tell me they were looking for two inmates who had escaped from the local penitentiary wearing–what else–orange coveralls. They were last seen running on the neighboring golf course. Of course, we always left keys in the ignition of parked cars. The detectives asked how many cars remained from lunch, and whether I could account for each. To my dismay, the Cadillac (one of only three cars left in my charge) was gone! The owner was very classy when the detectives needed his license plate number and unselfishly said he was glad I had not run into the thieves. Luckily for me, the car was recovered unscratched at a nearby shopping center, but we never heard if the thieves were caught.
I rarely drove a car onto the open road, but one exception was a permanent resident’s 1976 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow. The luminous dark red sedan was overdue for its annual state inspection and the owner’s wife “volunteered” me to drive it to the inspection station in the next town. The engine was so quiet and vibration-free that I had to concentrate to hear it. The interior was beautifully appointed with the finest leather I had ever seen or touched. Intuitive controls were set in burled walnut. In my opinion the steering wheel was somewhat primitive and too hard for an ultra-luxury auto, but it was a minor nitpick since the car was a magic carpet. It literally floated when put in drive. As expected, there were no buzzes, squeaks, or rattles. It handled well and predictably with adequate road feel, despite its considerable weight. Power came immediately at the slightest touch, suggesting ample reserve, and the Rolls-Royce stopped on a dime.
Photo: Hemmings Archives
Admittedly, I was very nervous driving it, even when it seemed other drivers stayed out of the way once I reached a multi-lane avenue. The inspection station was in a not-so-nice area on a narrow, bumpy street, and being near closing time the station was busy. I had to get in a line that snaked around the block and all I could do was hope nobody hit the darn thing.
As I crawled to the entrance, the inspection staff was laughing and pointing at me, still wearing my orange coveralls: “Hey kid, how did you get out of jail and where did you get that car?” Fortunately, my uniform sported a company crest. Seeking mercy, I said it was the boss’ car. Then the Rolls failed its emissions test. Adding to the insult, the dented, oxidized Volkswagen Beetle behind me passed with flying colors. In those days, a sticker with a big red circle signifying failure was affixed to the windshield’s lower left corner. You couldn’t miss it.
I finally relaxed when I pulled the Silver Shadow into the familiar driveway without incident. To my surprise, the owner’s wife was happy to see that the car failed, because now she could get it tuned up without further debate. Apparently, her husband was always working and neglected his cars. We were reminded of that later when we had to jump the battery in his seldom-driven Jaguar XJ12. The next time I saw the Rolls it had a proper inspection sticker.
After parking cars for eighteen months, I transferred inside to become a bartender as my college days progressed. I missed handling the cars, but not enduring cold winter nights or donning those orange coveralls. Over the years I have almost always insisted on parking my own car, but when valet parking is unavoidable, particularly in a city, I tip in advance. It’s remarkable how a few dollars will often gain a spot close to the attendant’s booth, sometimes with a safety cone next to our car.
Photo by Matthew Litwin
Photo by Matthew Litwin
Race wins touted in national headlineswere not lost on manufacturers, so by the start of the 1956 season nearly every major domestic brandhad invested performance resources into NASCAR. Pontiac initially supported two teams: Jim Stephens (Stephens Pontiac), and A.L. Bumgarner (Brushy Mountain Motors). Each were armed with a new-for-1956 engine designed for racing: a 316.6-cu.in. V-8 fitted with dual Rochester four-barrel carburetors that, along with a high-performance camshaft, dual-point distributor, specialized valley cover, and 10:1 compression cylinder heads, conspired to produce 285 horsepower (in street trim, mind. It’s well-known that racers knew how to make more horsepower).
A Pontiac win looked favorable, beginning with the sixth race of the season at the Daytona Beach/Road race, where Stephens’ two-car effort - with Ed Kretz and Cotton Owens - qualified 3rd and 4th, while Junior Johnson, in Bumgarner’s Pontiac, qualified 26th in the 76-car field. None saw the checkered flag. Johnson crashed, and the Stephens effort was met with mechanical woes. It was a sign of things to come. Strong as Pontiac was, bad fortune and mechanical reliability were its Achilles’ heel. Pontiac attained just 17 top 10 finishes with a best of 3rd recorded by Pat Kirkwood in a Stephens’ Pontiac.
Going winless, coupled with poor street ability of the dual-quad 316.6 V-8, spurred Pontiac to develop Tri-Power and fuel-injected 347-cu.in. engines for 1957. They became instant hits on the track - the brand notched two wins prior to a June rule change that mandated a single four-barrel induction system - and on the street, leaving the dual-quad 316.6 a nearly forgotten footnote of Fifties factory performance.
Rare reminders, however, still exist, such as this bred-for-NASCAR 1956 Pontiac twin Rochester carburetor and intake manifold assembly spotted for sale at the 2023 AACA Eastern Fall Meet in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Also included as part of the $4,500 package price was the system’s specific air cleaner assembly, which looked similar that of Cadillac’s (the two reportedly would not interchange without modifications). Save for rebuilding the carburetors, it looked ready to install on a specific “HY” stamped block.
1956 Pontiac Dual four-barrel induction setup
ASKING PRICE:$4,500
FOUND AT: 2023 AACA EASTERN FALL MEET (HERSHEY, PENNSYLVANIA)
Trending
╳