Chrysler's Newport and Thunderbolt: Mere "idea cars" or an exoneration of the Airflow?
05/06/2015
1940 Chrysler Thunderbolt. Photo courtesy RM Sotheby's.
Chrysler's Newport dual-cowl phaeton and Thunderbolt retractable hardtop roadster have, among automotive historians, long enjoyed status as Chrysler's first concept cars, predecessors to Chrysler's d'Elegance and other Ghia-built show cars. Yet, with the 75th anniversary of the two cars coming up this year, perhaps they now deserve a re-evaluation as the successors to—and defenders of the legacy of—the Chrysler Airflow.
While a handful of other Chrysler automobiles from the Twenties and Thirties might technically be considered as the company's first concept cars—experimentals and one-offs not necessarily meant for public display—the Newport and Thunderbolt were indeed the first specially-built-for-show, not-for-public-consumption, radically different-from-production cars in the vein of Harley Earl's Y-Job to come out of Chrysler. But they did not originate at Chrysler.
Rather, following the marketplace failure of the advanced-for-its-time Airflow, the styling of Chrysler products took a super-conservative U-turn. Design had always fallen under the purview of engineering at that time anyway, but the in-house and contract stylists penning new Chryslers, De Sotos, Dodges and Plymouths dared not propose anything mold-breakingly flashy or—perish the thought—aerodynamic.
Which is not to say that those within Chrysler felt that the Airflow deserved its "Airflop" nickname. Carl Breer and his engineers put in significant research and development when designing the Airflow, subjecting it to wind tunnel testing and even some less-than-conventional destructive testing to prove their concepts of aerodynamic forms, unit-body construction and space-frame design.
But the sting of the criticism against the Airflow persisted (even if Ferdinand Porsche studied its aerodynamic concepts when laying the groundwork for the Volkswagen Type I ["Beetle"] and even if Toyota copied it for the company's first car and even if the Lincoln Zephyr showed that other Detroit manufacturers could learn a thing or two from the Airflow) and as a result Chrysler products became infamous for their conservative and conventional designs throughout the latter half of the Thirties.
In 1940, streamlining advocate Alex Tremulis, then just 25 years old and working for the coachbuilding and styling house Briggs in Detroit, figured it would take a moonshot Hail Mary stop-the-presses effort to get Chrysler—and the rest of Detroit, for that matter—to reconsider streamlining after the Airflop. "All we had to do was to design and build a couple of the hottest streamlined cars since Rome burned and slap them with a Chrysler nameplate," he wrote in his recounting of the Newport/Thunderbolt's origins in Special Interest Autos #28, May-June 1975. Ralph Roberts, then just about the last vestige of coachbuilding house LeBaron left, not only backed Tremulis's idea, he also arranged for Tremulis to pitch it to Chrysler president K.T. Keller and veep Dave Wallace.
Early Alex Tremulis rendering for the Chrysler Thunderbolt, circa 1940. Hemmings archives photo.
Tremulis gambled that Keller and the rest of the Chrysler staff still believed in the principles behind the Airflow by presenting the cars not in finished form, but as ideas exemplified by some of the most streamlined racing and land-speed cars built to date: Henry Segrave's Golden Arrow, Frank Lockhart's Black Hawk, Donald Campbell's Bluebirds, George Eyston's Thunderbolt. "They were all very aerodynamic, and obeyed the basic laws of nature, established by Chrysler's own engineering staff when they developed the Chrysler Airflow cars," Tremulis wrote. "They... represented Chrysler's philosophy that function dictate form. And that beauty is the byproduct of sheer engineering integrity—as exemplified by Chrysler's forward-thinking policy in the taming of the wind."
Keller and Wallace signed off on the project and requested two cars called the Golden Arrow and the Thunderbolt for that year's New York Auto Show in October. Roberts began work on both, reinterpreting the Golden Arrow as a dual-cowl phaeton with long fadeaway fenders that stretched all the way to the rear quarters and the Thunderbolt with a retractable hardtop and full envelope styling, both with hideaway headlamps and largely unadorned flanks. Tremulis picked up Roberts's work on the Thunderbolt midway through the project, and both cars made it to the show on time, though the Golden Arrow underwent a last-minute name change to the Newport.
Ralph Roberts patent drawings for the Thunderbolt and Newport.
Significantly, Chrysler chose to introduce the cars with a speech based almost word-for-word on Tremulis's presentation to Keller and Wallace, a presentation that included many a reference to the Airflow and the design philosophy behind the Airflow. A booklet based on that speech that Chrysler circulated didn't at all shy away from heralding the Airflow as a triumph of engineering and design: "You may wonder why Chrysler can say so confidently that (the Newport and Thunderbolt) will forecast all future design! It is because these cars, like the first Chrysler Airflow, are fashioned by function. They are not a designer's whim, they are not mere fads of style! Like the birds in the air and the fish in the sea, they are functionally designed for the task they are to perform."
To get the most mileage out of the two "idea cars," as Chrysler called them, the company commissioned LeBaron—via Briggs—to build a number of additional copies of each, which it then sent across the country on promotional tours, stopping at car shows and dealerships and other special exhibitions. One of the Newports even became the first non-production car to pace the Indianapolis 500 the following May.
Chrysler Newport at the 1941 Indianapolis 500. Photo courtesy IMS Archives.
As futuristic as the styling and gadgets were for both the Newport and Thunderbolt, they relied on fairly conventional underpinnings. The Thunderbolt rode atop Chrysler's C-26 127.5-inch-wheelbase chassis and the Newport atop the C-28 145.5-inch-wheelbase chassis, both powered by the company's 143-hp 323.5-cu.in. Spitfire straight-eight engines, backed by three-speed Fluid-Drive automatic transmissions. Each of the handbuilt cars differed in minor details, and Chrysler had each painted and upholstered in different color combinations.
With the onset of World War II—and with the idea cars exhausting their itineraries—Chrysler sold off all but one of its Newports and Thunderbolts at an estimated average cost of $6,000 apiece (at a time when a new Ford sold in the $800 price range). The one it kept, the one that paced the Indianapolis 500, went to Walter P. Chrysler Jr., while the others went to actors, millionaires, and dealers looking to draw traffic to their showrooms.
One of the Paul Stern-owned Chrysler Thunderbolts, circa 1960s.
As for how many LeBaron built for Chrysler, it seems no two sources agree, and definitive numbers aren't forthcoming from Chrysler's records. Chrysler publications maintain that six of each were built, but Roberts, in a note to Special Interest Autos, said that LeBaron built just five Thunderbolts (he made no mention of how many Newports LeBaron built). Other sources over the years have claimed five of each, five Newports and six Thunderbolts, and even four Thunderbolts and six Newports.
However many were built, at least four of each survive today, largely thanks to the efforts of collectors Paul Stern and Don Williams, both of whom tried at different times to collect every existing example of each. Of the Newports, we can account for:
Photo courtesy Gooding.
*Unknown chassis number, engine number C33-1001, reportedly the first Newport built. Formerly owned by Paul Stern, then later by Buzz Reinhardt, Tom Barrett, Russel Head and Joseph Cassini. Appeared at Pebble Beach in 1978, 1980 and 2009. Sold at RM Amelia Island in 2004 for $363,000, at RM Arizona in 2008 for $748,000, and at Gooding Scottsdale in 2011 for $1,017,500. Cream with red leather interior.
Photo courtesy RM Sotheby's.
*Chassis number 7807503, engine number C33-1002, Indy 500 pace car. First owned by Walter P. Chrysler Jr., later owned by David Caldwell (August 1959 through September 1989), formerly owned by the Ramshead Collection. Sold at RM Amelia in 2009 for $687,500, offered at RM Amelia in 2012 but did not sell, sold at RM Don Davis in 2013 for $880,000. Fixed headlamps, champagne with maroon interior (earlier painted seafoam green).
Photo by J Brew.
*Chassis number 7807827, engine number 4321290. Originally owned by Henry J. "Bob" Topping, millionaire playboy and husband of actress Lana Turner, later owned by William Harrah, currently in the collection of the National Automobile Museum in Reno. Red with white interior (earlier painted green with white interior). At one point owned by Red Harris in Pittsburgh.
Photo by the author.
*Unknown chassis number, unknown engine number. Currently in the collection of the Walter P. Chrysler Museum. Red with beige interior.
*Unknown chassis number, unknown engine number. Currently in the Rich Atwell collection. Blue.
In addition, we know that collectors William Gundaker and David Caldwell owned separate Newports; Gundaker's was modified with open headlamps, painted red with a black top and tan interior and last spotted in the late 1980s. Unknown whether Gundaker's may be the same as the above cars.
UPDATE (3.February 2020): Caldwell, according to his daughter Janet, owned the pace car. Information amended above.
Of the Thunderbolts, we can account for:
Photo courtesy RM Sotheby's.
*Chassis number 7807943, unknown engine number. Originally owned by actor Bruce Cabot, later owned by Paul Stern, William Harrah and Dr. Gerald DePersio. Appeared at Pebble Beach in 2009. Offered at RM Arizona in 2010 but did not sell, sold at RM Monterey in 2011 for $935,000. Green with copper top and trim and green interior.
Photo courtesy RM Sotheby's.
*Chassis number 7807976, unknown engine number, reportedly the fourth Thunderbolt built. Originally sold to the Mexican vice-president, later owned by Paul Stern, Bob Adams, Joe Levy Jr., Joseph Murphy, Donald Appel, and Roger Willbanks. Appeared at Pebble Beach in 1996 and 1997. Sold at RM Arizona in 2006 for $1,210,000, sold at RM Arizona in 2008 for $1,320,000. Red with white interior and silver top.
Photo by eperales.
* unknown chassis number, unknown engine number. Currently in the collection of the Walter P. Chrysler Museum. Gray with gray top.
Photo by the author.
* unknown chassis number, unknown engine number. Currently in the collection of Richard Driehaus. Black.
In addition, we know that Charles Putnam and Paul Stunzi owned Thunderbolts in the mid-1950s and early 1990s, respectively. Unknown whether these cars may be the same as the above cars.
We plan to update this list as more information on the cars becomes available.
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
╳