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On April 17, 1969, Ford introduced a new compact two-door sedan with sleek fastback styling, designed to counter the sales threat posed by the Volkswagen "Beetle" and other fuel-efficient imports. In its first (partial) year on the market, the Maverick sold 127,833 copies, besting the Mustang's 126,538 unit sales from April-December 1964. Though the Mustang lives on today, the Maverick -- which marks its 50th birthday in 2019 -- left the U.S. market after the 1977 model year.
By the late 1960s, the threat from imports to domestic sales was growing too large to ignore. In 1968 alone, Volkswagen sold 563,522 vehicles to U.S buyers, while Toyota and Datsun (combined) accounted for another 109,000 sales. In total, Ford’s research showed the size of the 1968 import market (including all manufacturers) to be 985,767 units -- large enough for the right car from a domestic automaker to make inroads and enjoy reasonable sales.
To reduce the time to market, Ford built the Maverick atop an existing platform, once again turning to the Falcon to underpin a new model. The Falcon’s wheelbase was reduced from 110.9 inches to 103 inches, making the overall length of the Maverick 179.4 inches, compared to 184.3 inches on the Falcon. Ford believed that U.S. buyers would prefer a model smaller than its existing compact Falcon, yet not as small as the subcompact imports.
Power for the Maverick came from the same 170-cu.in. inline six-cylinder used in the Falcon, rated at 105 horsepower and reportedly capable of a combined 22.5 mpg when mated to the standard three-speed manual transmission. That fell short of the fuel economy offered by imports, but Ford believed that American buyers would be willing to sacrifice a few miles per gallon in exchange for more shoulder room and an easier-to-maintain vehicle. In its literature, Ford even touted the Maverick’s 52 additional horsepower compared to the Volkswagen Beetle’s flat-four, boasting that the Maverick, “…covers 417 feet in ten seconds from a standing start.”
The Maverick was designed to appeal to a younger audience, so available colors for the 1970 model year included Anti-Establish Mint, Hulla Blue, Original Cinnamon, and Freudian Gilt (gold), in addition to the more conventional Red, Dark Ivy Green Metallic, Medium Gold Metallic, Dark Aqua Metallic, Bright Yellow, Medium Blue Metallic, Medium Ivy Green Metallic, Pastel Blue, Black, White, and Vermillion. Inside, buyers could liven things up a bit by ordering “Blazer Stripe Seat Trim,” and other possible options included a SelectShift Cruise-O-Matic automatic transmission, a semi-automatic Transmission, SelectAire air conditioning, a consolette with electric clock, deluxe seat belts, tinted glass, an AM radio, dual outside mirrors, a variety of accent and luxury groups, and a vinyl roof.
The 302 V-8 became an available option in 1971.
Those seeking a bit more go could initially opt for a 200-cu.in. six, rated at 120 hp and mated to either a three-speed column shift manual transmission or the SelectShift automatic. Ford later offered the 250-cu.in six from the Mustang, but this 155-hp option was available only with the C-4 automatic transmission. In 1971, the 302-cu.in. V-8 became available in the Maverick but was fed by a two-barrel carburetor and exhaled through a single exhaust, for a claimed 210 horsepower. Buyers opting for the 302 could choose between the three-speed manual and three-speed automatic transmissions.
1971 Ford Maverick magazine ad. Remaining images courtesy Lov2XLR8.no.
A four-door model arrived in 1971, built upon a 109.9-inch wheelbase for added rear-seat passenger legroom. The sporty Grabber package became a distinct model in 1971 as well, offering buyers dual sport mirrors, 14-inch wheels with trim rings and center caps, side tape stripes, a dual-vent hood with black graphic (in 1971-’72), a trunk spoiler, a black grille and tail panel, and an upgraded steering wheel. In 1972, the Grabber was available with more stripe and trim colors, but it wasn’t until 1973 that the contents included anything to increase performance. Even then, it was in the form of a slightly firmer suspension with available slotted mag wheels and radial tires, which may have upped cornering speed but did little to make the Maverick faster in a straight line. The Grabber remained in production through 1975, and in 1976 -- the Maverick’s penultimate year -- was replaced by the Stallion, which was also an appearance package but with the addition of a “competition suspension.”
1976 Ford Maverick Stallion.
Initially, the Maverick was slated to go out of production in 1975, replaced by the more luxurious Granada, but concerns about another fuel crisis kept the Maverick in production through 1977 (and through 1979 in Brazil). Over nine years of production, buyers in North America snapped up nearly 2.1-million Mavericks, and the car’s best sales year was 1974, when 301,048 left Ford showrooms with new owners. These numbers don’t even include the Mercury-equivalent Comet, which hit dealerships in 1971 and remained on sale through 1977.
1977 Ford Maverick four-door.
The Maverick’s 50th birthday will be celebrated at the 2019 Carlisle Ford Nationals, taking place from May 31-June 2, 2019, in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. For additional details, visit CarlisleEvents.com.
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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)
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