Dynamic Deluxe - 1941 Oldsmobile Dynamic Cruiser Deluxe
Fastback styling and pre-war grace were the hallmarks of Oldsmobile's highly attractive 1941 Dynamic Cruiser Deluxe
09/23/2018
When it comes to the cars of the era immediately preceding World War II, Oldsmobile is an undeniable standout; in those years, the company produced some of the most finely detailed, exquisitely designed automobiles available, especially when considering the realm of production cars built for the masses. Although this was the end of the Art Deco era, the 1941 models still showed traces of that Parisian design influence in their standout exteriors.
Even though the 1941 models were introduced just before the U.S. entered World War II, a time when car buyers were pinching pennies and holding off on purchases, the public was captivated by their decorative, yet clean, design. The siren song of great looks, no doubt aided by the sense that "this could be our last chance at a new car for a while," led to a sales bonanza: Oldsmobile witnessed a 46 percent increase in production, a number that included 47,098 new-for-1941 Dynamic Cruiser club sedans, such as the example featured here.
General Motors' fastback design had existed previously, but in 1941, it was new to the two-door coupe. At Oldsmobile, the attractive 211-inch-long body sat atop a lengthened 125-inch wheelbase, rigid-girder type frame, complete with a massive X-member. Also known as the Series 70, the Dynamic models were available in two nearly identical guises: Model 76 and Model 78 (the last digit, "6" or "8," represented the number of engine cylinders).
Oldsmobile's venerable Econo-Master straight-six engine dated back to the late 1920s, but through developmental evolution, it was bored out to 238 cubic inches by 1941. Equipped with a single downdraft Carter carburetor with an automatic choke, the L-head engine developed an even 100 horsepower. Period literature failed to provide a flashy name for the slightly more powerful 257-cu.in. straight-eight engine, which Oldsmobile first used in its 1937 lineup; however, this engine, with a 110hp rating achieved in part thanks to a dual carburetor induction system, was not available in Series 70 models until 1941.
Oldsmobile's tried-and-true column-shifted, three-speed manual transmission was standard, and was accompanied by a fairly low final drive gear ratio of 4.30:1. The increasingly popular Hydra-Matic four-speed automatic was available as a $100 option. Period advertising touted the Hydra-Matic's 10 to 15 percent increase in fuel efficiency, but little mention was made of the higher 3.63:1 final drive gear ratio it was paired with. Fuel efficiency aside, Oldsmobile certainly insinuated that without the clutch pedal, driver comfort was greatly improved.
To provide all five passengers with a boulevard-smooth ride and to minimize body roll while cornering, Dynamic Cruisers were equipped with an independent front coil spring suspension with unequal-length control arms and an anti-roll bar meant to reduce body lean. This rather conventional setup was complemented by a rear system consisting of coil springs, trailing arms and a second anti-roll bar, which was rarely fitted to cars back in the day. Double-acting hydraulic shocks were positioned at all four corners. Braking consisted of a standard four-wheel hydraulic drum arrangement.
Ride and comfort were further extended to the passenger compartment; the front and rear cloth seats were "cushioned with individually wrapped and tied coil springs covered with thick padding," while passengers were also provided with a pair of front seat armrests, Fisher No Draft ventilation and a right-hand sunvisor. Carpeting was also standard, and while chrome trim was present, it was tastefully applied throughout.
Glovebox door flips down, revealing back of clock.
For owners who wanted more opulence from their Dynamic Oldsmobile, there was the Deluxe package. It provided upgraded upholstery with foam rubber seat cushions and armrests, a deluxe three-spoke steering wheel, an upgraded instrument cluster with "clear vision plastic facing," and a deluxe clock within the glovebox door, as well as an interior lamp. To make the outside match the interior's opulence, the Deluxe package also provided exterior upgrades: larger 15 x 5.50-inch wheels fitted with 7.00-15 tires and chrome trim rings; a chrome hood ornament incorporating a stylish plastic insert, and chrome "speed lines" that adorned the front and rear fenders behind each wheel opening.
Our Dynamic Cruiser feature car is owned by Huntington, New York's Paul Jacobs, a longstanding Oldsmobile enthusiast. The car was originally ordered with the Deluxe package, although the missing fender ornamentation would leave one compelled to question its original build status. Of course, it's also possible that the previous owner neglected to reapply the trim after the car was repainted from its original black to a model year-correct Garnet red. Paul was able to clear the air around that issue by disclosing that his Olds had been built late in the model year--June, to be precise--at a time when chrome was in short supply, as Detroit switched over to war materiel production. As a result, his Deluxe-optioned Dynamic coupe left the assembly line without the fender trim. Additionally, the fender grilles and dash trim of Paul's car are painted stamped steel instead of stainless or chrome-plated steel as on examples produced earlier in the model year.
"I've always been impressed by the Art Deco styling of the pre-war era of automobiles," Paul told us. "When I discovered this Olds for sale, it immediately brought back memories of the cars I admired as a child, when they were already 10 years old. This coupe was in fair to good condition, and very nearly complete, but it also needed work. My intent was to bring it back to its original appearance and operating condition without undertaking a costly restoration."
Mechanically, the engine had received a nondescript valve job by the previous owner, and sometime in its past, the Dynamic's transmission had been rebuilt. With that in mind, Paul reconditioned the worn shock absorbers, overhauled the brake system and carefully examined the rest of the suspension for excessive wear, replacing only what he had to; he also replaced the gas tank. Extended service from the engine was ensured when Paul opted to remove the oil pan and clean out all the years of sludge buildup. With the engine still in place, he undertook the difficult task of replacing the rear main seal on the crankshaft. Finally, he performed a tune-up and rebuilt the carburetor.
"I later replaced the original cylinder head, the one with the spark plugs located between the valves, with a redesigned Oldsmobile head that featured the spark plugs over the intake valves, which was the stock replacement head for this engine," stated Paul. "Having milled the original head, the car ran much better than when I purchased it, so I figured the redesigned cylinder head would only improve it further. So far as I've been able to determine, nobody has a clear answer as to why Oldsmobile made the change, other than speculation about improved combustion within the chamber. I have not noticed a difference in performance using this particular cylinder head."
With his Oldsmobile mechanically roadworthy, Paul turned his focus to its interior and exterior appearance. He was able to purchase and install a set of NOS front grille bars; more challenging was the refurbishment of the fender grilles, which he repainted. Paul was also able to locate NOS taillamps, a license lamp assembly and rocker panel trim--when he purchased the car, the rocker trim had been riveted into place. One appearance upgrade was the addition of a set of NOS gravel shields. The exterior refurbishment was completed when Paul reconfigured the parking and taillamp assemblies, enabling them to act as modern turn signal indicators.
Interior wear was much more prevalent--Paul told us the car was "worn and torn" when he got it. Undeterred, he contacted Don Jenkins of Joe's Upholstery in Frederick, Maryland, who agreed to perform the extensive list of renovations. "This included the replacement of the headliner and package shelf, carpeting, door panels, kickpanels and seats. Don re-cushioned and reupholstered each in gray/maroon pinstriped wool broadcloth supplied by LeBaron Bonney. During this time, we opted to install seat belts. Don also corrected the unpleasant appearance of the dash; he was able to refinish the upper half of the woodgrain, as well as the garnish moldings."
Since its completion, Paul drives his pre-war Oldsmoble roughly 700 miles annually, mostly to local car events, with periodic "exercise runs" through his region. "It's a big, heavy car with a solid feel, and fairly smooth to drive. The six-cylinder engine and Hydra-Matic transmission makes for a slow acceleration, but it runs nicely up to 60 or 65 MPH, where you can feel the drivetrain 'working.' The automatic's gearing is not the best for climbing hills, and selecting second gear for added pickup causes the engine to rev too high. The car also leans a little when cornering, but the understeer is more pronounced. Once you compensate for its weaknesses, the ride is very predictable, but the bias ply tires will transfer every road imperfection, requiring you to pay closer attention. Overall, the Dynamic Cruiser is fun to drive as long as you know and make allowances for the car's limitations.
"I feel like I don't actually own the car, but rather, I am acting as a caretaker by maintaining it as a classic, nostalgic example of pre-war automotive design and engineering. You rarely see 1941 Oldsmobiles at shows today, and its rarity is enhanced by its trim shortage."
I turned 18 in late 1977. Ordinarily it would have been just another birthday, especially considering I had my driver’s license less than a year, but it was significant in that I was hired as a valet parking attendant at The Manor, a well-known fine dining restaurant and caterer - that doubled as a very popular wedding venue - located in West Orange, New Jersey. It also meant I could leave behind yard work, dog care, and the sporadic odd jobs of scooping ice cream and delivering newspapers.
The Manor sat on an extensive mountainside property adjacent to a wooded reservation and a golf course, so it was a great place to work outside in the fresh air. Visitors entered the property through tall gates and navigated a tree-lined driveway that led to the grand entrance of the pillared Georgian mansion. Valet parking was free and not required. If visitors opted for valet service, vehicles were driven from the main entrance to either an upper or lower lot. The farthest parking spaces were more than a quarter mile away from The Manor’s front door.
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.
Americans rediscovered factory performance thanks, in part, to NASCAR’s first official Strictly Stock (quickly renamed Grand National) race, held on June 19, 1949, on Charlotte Speedway’s ¾-mile dirt oval. What made the 200-lap contest compelling to the 13,000 attendees was a relatable starting field of 33 factory-stock cars (with minor provisions allowed for safety). Of the nine makes that took the green flag (Buick, Cadillac, Chrysler, Ford, Hudson, Kaiser, Lincoln, Mercury, and Oldsmobile), Jim Roper and his 1949 Lincoln were declared victors following the disqualification of Glenn Dunnaway and his 1947 Ford, the latter’s rear spring having been modified for its day-to-day life as a moonshine hauler.
By the end of the 1955 season, Buick, Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, Chrysler, Dodge, Plymouth, Ford, Mercury, Hudson, Nash, Studebaker, and even Jaguar, had been added to the list of race-winning manufactures. Absent was Pontiac, though not for a lack of effort. Thirteen drivers had entered Pontiacs, a combined total of just 25 races. Freddie Lee provided the best result, a fourth, at Carrell Speedway in Gardena, California, on June 30, 1951.
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.
ASKING PRICE:$4,500
FOUND AT: 2023 AACA EASTERN FALL MEET (HERSHEY, PENNSYLVANIA)