1939 Comely Coupe

As the Depression receded, and despite the ominous approach of war, America looked very good in 1939, and we mean that in the most literal terms imaginable. As it emerged from its long darkness and deprivation, the nation yearned to recover the aura of glamour that had vanished as abruptly as the Dow Jones index, the hardscrabble Midwest farmers and millions of industrial jobs.

Seatback, steering wheel position forces driver to adopt upright, dignified posture.

As the Thirties drew to their decidedly unsettled conclusion, it was clear that the United States had rediscovered its long absent taste for fashion. Gentlemen strutted along New York's sidewalks, debonair in perfectly blocked fedoras and tailored suits with lapels sharp enough to draw blood. They stepped past newly erected office buildings conceptualized as Art Deco exercises, with broad, airy common areas trimmed with stainless steel, marble and bright pastels. From the city's rail stations, streamlined passenger trains pulled by bullet-shaped steam locomotives (and increasingly, diesels) rolled west toward the heartland.

The perfect conveyance for a well-off rake to cruise in while listening to

It was the forward-looking Twenties all over again, only without most of the raucousness, gang violence and bacchanalian excess that came to define the Prohibition years. Tempered by hardship, the nation was ready to again walk proudly. They were equally ready to ride with pride, as the rapid evolution of the American automobile proved. Beginning in the Thirties, cars began to look as if they'd been shaped by the wind itself. That wasn't exactly the case, but dramatic new cars such as the Chrysler Airflow and Cord 810 presented a smooth, integrated appearance that was largely nonexistent just a decade earlier.

More than most of its competitors, the 1939 La Salle gave life to the industry's newfound commitment to taste, flair and delicacy of trim and presentation. Or more accurately, La Salle had been doing so since its inception in 1927 as an element of Alfred P. Sloan's grand strategy of building cars to meet specific pricing points, so that people of varying means could enjoy a measure of upward mobility when selecting a General Motors-built car. The La Salle was slotted between the highest-optioned Buick and least-equipped Cadillac. Far more noteworthy, though, is the fact that the 1927 La Salle was the first mass-production American car designed by an actual stylist, in the person of Harley Earl. Earl had spent much of the Twenties in the employ of West Coast Cadillac distributor Don Lee, customizing cars for well-heeled Hollywood "swells" including silent movie comic Fatty Arbuckle. GM then hired him to organize its new Art & Colour section, whose first project would be the La Salle, which incorporated many styling themes from the Hispano-Suiza, an Earl favorite.

Except for the dark Depression years, La Salles sold comfortably in five figures throughout the marque's 14 years of existence. The sole exception was 1933, when General Motors' executive aerie voted to kill the brand to save some cash. When the word reached Earl, he marched before the executive committee and told them he wanted them to see what they were about to lose. In his studio, he drew back a curtain and revealed a slim-nosed, radically curvaceous prototype of the 1934 La Salle. It was enough to make the GM brass abruptly reverse themselves.

On balance, its life span proved conclusively that a viable market existed for high-content cars priced at around $1,000, a postulate further buttressed by the arrival of the Lincoln-Zephyr and the Packard 120, both rooting for the same customers as the La Salle. Yet from Cadillac's standpoint, the extraordinary stylishness was an albatross, pirating more sales from the Cadillac Series 62 than from either Lincoln or Packard. A radically restyled La Salle had already been mocked up for 1941, but instead, Cadillac created a new, bottom-of-the-line Series 61, and the La Salle nameplate, and all the flair associated with it, vanished into history.

That quiet, dignified aura of refinement and quality is immediately evident when you encounter one of the La Salles that survive today, such as Jack Carroll's 1939 Series 50 coupe, one of the 23,028 cars La Salle built during its penultimate year. Walk around it, and after every few steps, you'll stop and your eyebrows will arch at yet another visual treat. The most obvious one was the radically narrow grille, with La Salle scripted atop horizontal bars so fine they resemble strings stretched across the frame of a concert grand piano. Subtly atop its shell is mounted a tiny coat of arms of René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de la Salle, who claimed Louisiana for France in 1682. Flanking the thin, delicate grille are additional air intakes that cascade toward the front bumper in a waterfall fashion. With just 24 inches separating the centers of its headlamp lenses, the front-end treatment looks almost jewel-like.

Other, less obvious delights also await. "Catwalk" accents applied to the sides of the alligator hood in 1939 are simple fluted affairs cast with the distinctive, Art Deco-inspired La Salle logo, which also appears in the center of the wheel covers, looking like the business end of a branding iron. La Salle shared GM's B-body with Oldsmobile and Buick, but its unique grille and front fenders gave it strong individuality. What's more, at a time when Art & Colour designers were frantically slathering chrome onto GM's other cars, Earl ordered his team of stylists to exercise restraint when it came to decorating the La Salle.

For the first time, in 1939, the La Salle could be ordered without running boards, and given the car's seamlessly flowing lines, sidemount spares were only sparsely selected by customers. As 1939 La Salle coupes go, Jack's is rather understated. That seems almost contradictory, given the fact that he was originally looking to buy a street rod when he first found it.

"My brother-in-law came in from Michigan, and we were looking over the ads in Hemmings Motor News when he spotted the La Salle," said Jack. "It had been first delivered to a Cadillac-La Salle dealer in Cincinnati, and I don't know its history from there, but the fellow I bought it from in 2000 said it had come out of a well-known collection in Maryland.

Jack is an industrial designer by profession, having originally worked for American Motors. He designed the 1967 Ambassador's sheetmetal and did the interior prototypes for the Javelin and AMX. Once Jack got the La Salle delivered to his shop in Pepperell, Massachusetts, he realized it had undergone at least a partial restoration about a decade earlier that was never properly finished.

"Generally, I'd say it was in pretty good shape cosmetically," he recalled. "But the mechanicals, brakes and electricals were a disaster. I couldn't believe someone could have installed this nice an interior and still left all the wiring exposed." Once the technical issues were squared away, Jack wet-sanded and buffed the La Salle's paint before sending the grillework, light fixtures and other pieces out to be rechromed. When he bought the La Salle, it had sealed-beam headlamps, which hadn't been developed in 1939, so he replaced them with period-correct units.

Driving Jack's Antoinette Blue coupe provides an immediate, visceral lesson in how much physical exertion driving used to involve. The interrelationship between the steering wheel's nearly upright position and the bench seat's cushion is such that it all but forces you to sit erect and dignified, as if you're playing a piano, not slouched, so that Sister Clarona doesn't give you a hard rap between the shoulder blades to make you sit up straight. Press the starter button, and the 322-cu.in. L-head Cadillac V-8 lopes into life, sounding unperturbed and very distant.

La Salle replaced its floor-mounted gearshift lever with a column shifter after 1937. When you attempt to push the clutch down to the floorboard, it doesn't move. You lean harder on your left leg, and you feel the quadriceps muscles in your thigh tighten uncomfortably, as if you were tensing just before a barbell squat, before the pedal finally moves with great resistance. La Salle transmissions found their way into countless early hot rods powered by flathead Ford V-8s because of their perceived Cadillac-engineered robustness. Although the upper two gears have synchromesh, Jack still advocates shifting gently to avoid grinding the sixty-something gears. You pull the lever back into first and do the leg-press again while releasing the clutch. It engages abruptly, and you sheepishly stall the car. Jack is unperturbed, and the next try gets the La Salle rolling. You feed throttle gently and listen to the revs build in a leisurely fashion, and then it's time to grab a gear. You push down the clutch and count to yourself, "One thousand...two thousand...SHIFT." There's an audible clash of metal anyway.

We don't know the torque figures for Jack's La Salle; manufacturers back in the Thirties didn't bother tracking that output measurement, because cars back then were sold on the basis of horsepower alone. But the lazily reciprocating V-8 clearly is well endowed in the torque department. Jack says the La Salle will almost-almost-move out from a dead stop in top gear.

Rolling through undulating hills along the Massachusetts-New Hampshire border reveals a few more surprises. Approaching a stop sign on a road posted for 35 mph, you roll out of the throttle, press down on the brake pedal, which is only slightly more compliant than the clutch, and...nothing. "Don't worry about it," Jack assures. "Just keep pushing on it." Eventually, the La Salle rolls to a stop.

Aside from the physical effort needed to drive this car, which has manual steering, you also come to realize that driving virtually any Thirties car requires constant focused attention on the driver's part. There's a good five inches of free play or vagary when the steering is purportedly at dead center. At even moderate speeds, and despite the fact that the La Salle is radial-shod, you have to constantly swing the steering wheel in great corrective arcs to remain in a relatively straight line. An unexpected plus is that the La Salle rides with complete comfort and dignity, befitting a car that is so classy and special.

Which you already knew, of course, from the moment you unlatched the door. The La Salle exudes richness and quality from literally every component. The wire-laced steering wheel, a La Salle crest at its center hub, is exquisite. The doorsills are elegantly inlaid with an almost terra cotta pattern. The bi-toned gray cloth upholstery would be a perfect complement to any sitting room. The script of the instrumentation and pushbutton AM radio is Thirties-perfect, and the steel dash is tastefully painted in soft earth tones.

"This car is all about simple elegance," Jack concluded. "From the standpoint of overall design, it's just so clean."

OWNER'S VIEW

Jack Carroll has been in the world of industrial design for some 40 years, and now handles projects as complex as computer and machining networks and medical tools. But for all his work with things so complicated, he has a strong appreciation for uncluttered, straightforward designs like his La Salle.

"For me, it's just a matter that I like how simple and elegant the 1939 La Salle is," he said. The form and the lines of that year's La Salle were particularly clean, with not too much adornment. It wasn't like the Oldsmobiles from that era, which looked clunky and heavy-handed, just really overdone.

"I just think it's really cool to drive. When I got out of high school, I had a 1951 Plymouth that was customized, and in those years, my father used to get a new Cadillac every year. He said it would be a long time before I owned one, but I finally do."

PROS:

Delectable looks, inside and out

Seldom-seen Cadillac relic

You'll feel like Dashiell Hammett

CONS:

Limited interior space

Feels about one gear short

Frontal brightwork is fragile and scarce

WHAT TO PAY

Low: $10,000

Average: $25,000

High: $40,000

CLUB SCENE

Cadillac-La Salle Club

P.O. Box 360835

Columbus, Ohio 43236

www.cadillaclasalleclub.org

Dues: $35/year; Membership: 7,000

Trillium Cadillac and La Salle Club of Canada

P.O. Box 30

Utterson, Ontario P0B 1MO

www.eldobrghm.com

Dues: $30US/year; Membership 150

SPECIFICATIONS

Base price: $1,323

Options on dR car:

Folding rear opera seats

AM radio

heater

clock

ENGINE

Type: L-head V-8, cast-iron block and cylinder heads

Displacement: 322 cubic inches

Bore x Stroke: 3.375 x 4.50 inches

Compression ratio: 6.25:1

Horsepower @ rpm: 125 @ 3,400

Torque @ rpm: N/A

Valvetrain: Hydraulic lifters

Main bearings: 3

Fuel system: Carter WDO 423s two-barrel downdraft carburetor

Lubrication system: Full pressure

Electrical system: 6-volt

Exhaust system: Single exhaust

TRANSMISSION

Type: Three-speed column-mounted manual, synchronized second and third gears

Ratios: 1st 2.39:1

2nd: 1.53:1

3rd: 1.00:1

Reverse: 2.39:1

DIFFERENTIAL

Type: Hotchkiss, hypoid gears

Ratio: 3.92:1

STEERING

Type: Saginaw worm and roller

Turns, lock-to-lock: 4.1

Ratio: 19:1

Turning circle: 42 feet

BRAKES

Type: Four-wheel internal hydraulic, manual

Front: 12-inch drums

Rear: 12-inch drums

CHASSIS & BODY

Construction: All-steel body bolted to double-dropped X-member frame

Body style: Two-door coupe

Layout: Front engine, rear-wheel drive

SUSPENSION

Front: Independent, coil springs, lever shocks, anti-roll bar

Rear: Live axle, semi-elliptic leaf springs, lever shocks, track bar

WHEELS & TIRES

Wheels: Pressed steel discs

Front/rear: 16 x 6.50 inches

Tires: Dayton Timberline AG radials

Front/rear: LT215/85-16

WEIGHTS & MEASURES

Wheelbase: 120.4 inches

Overall length: 202.0625 inches

Overall width: 78 inches

Overall height: 67 inches

Front track: 58 inches

Rear track: 59 inches

Weight: 3,635 pounds

CAPACITIES

Crankcase: 7 quarts

Cooling system: 25 quarts

Fuel tank: 22 gallons

Transmission: 2.5 pints

CALCULATED DATA

Bhp per c.i.d.: 0.38

Weight per bhp: 29.08 pounds

Weight per c.i.d.: 11.28 pounds

PERFORMANCE

0-60: 15.5 seconds

Fuel mileage: 10 mpg city, 14 mpg highway