Modified Mayflower - 1951 Plymouth Concord
Underhood accessories set this 1951 Plymouth Concord apart from the crowd
09/18/2019
There was a time when people weren't afraid to dig into a brand-new car in order to personalize it or add options not offered by the factory. Such do-it-yourself accessories as window-mount air conditioners, curb feelers, and extra bumper guards were common items for Dad and Junior to install in the driveway— maybe just a few weekends after bringing home a new car in the fall, maybe in the spring once their need was demonstrated, or maybe after a few years to freshen up a car before it was time to replace it. Auto parts stores and catalog companies were eager to offer the creative car owner myriad opportunities to improve his or her automobile with just a few hours turning wrenches.
It's easy to think of speed parts as a different category from the typical automobile accessory, but the truth is that installing those parts on a newer car was only slightly more difficult than something like a light-up hood ornament. A high-compression cylinder head or a dual-carburetor intake manifold was a bolt-on affair that could yield tangible benefits behind the wheel, especially on a flyweight car like a Chevrolet, Ford, or Plymouth.
Modifying a 1951 Plymouth for performance may seem counter-intuitive to the modern enthusiast. After all, by 1951 not only were there plenty of V-8 Fords to be had, but the outstanding Oldsmobile 88 or Hudson Hornet, too. Consider, though, that the 218-cu.in. Plymouth flathead straight-six, factory rated at 97 horsepower, was comparable to the 100-hp, 239-cu.in. Ford flathead V-8 and Chevrolet's 92-hp, 216-cu.in. OHV straight-six. It's also worth noting that overhead valves notwithstanding, the Chevrolet engine was still using poured bearings and splash oiling, whereas the Plymouth six-cylinder had insert bearings and full-pressure oiling. It was a solid, durable basis for all kinds of upgrades.
The instrument panel and window garnish trim, originally woodgrained, were refinished in the same Wedgewood Blue as the body, convertible style, which nicely complements the white steering wheel.
The power equivalency between the brands was especially notable when the Plymouth's 97 horsepower was found in the 2,969-pound P22 Concord two-door fastback (the lightest six-passenger Plymouth that year), yielding a power-to-weight ratio of 0.033-hp/pound. The equivalent Deluxe Tudor sedan body from Ford weighed 3,062 pounds and the Chevrolet Styleline Sport Coupe weighed 3,060 pounds.
One needn't have been a hot-rodder or engineer to appreciate these facts, either. Simply paying attention to stock car racing would have tipped off savvy shoppers as early as 1949, when Lee Petty (father of "King Richard") bested numerous Oldsmobiles, Hudsons, and other performers of the pre-muscle era thanks to the Plymouth's light weight. Other Plymouth racers in the era included Walt Faulkner, George Seeger, and Johnny Mantz. All told, between 1949 and 1952, Plymouth ranked third in the nation in stock-car wins.
If stock Plymouths could do so well on the nation's speedways (stockish, anyway, Petty used Chrysler Imperial suspension components to increase the durability of his car, but his engine remained factory spec), what could a dedicated Plymouth enthusiast do if unencumbered by rules? The Mopar flathead six had been around since 1929 and was well supplied with speed parts and know-how by the early 1950s. As Petty demonstrated, even the factory parts bins offered possibilities, thanks to shared engineering across Plymouth, Dodge, De Soto, and Chrysler.
Notice the Westach tachometer, which allows the driver to see the rpm drop when the overdrive engages.
By 1951, Ford was already offering the 112-hp, 255-cu.in. Mercury V-8 as an option for police cars. The Ford body/ Mercury V-8 marriage was a natural one, since the basic engine architecture was the same. Ford speed enthusiasts had been making the conversion to Mercury power since the first Mercury V-8's hit the junkyards in late 1939. A similar relationship existed between Plymouth and Dodge, with the 103-hp, 230-cu.in. Dodge flathead six a bolt-in swap.
That's almost exactly what was done to this 1951 Plymouth. At some point in its past, the original 218 engine was removed and a 1958 Dodge 138-hp six-cylinder was bolted in its place. To it were added an Edmunds intake manifold with dual one-barrel carburetors, a higher lift Crower camshaft, and an exhaust header flowing into dual exhausts with glasspack mufflers. Similar modifications made to the 1956 Plymouth 230 bumped power from 125 to 131 hp, so it is fair to speculate that the engine in our feature car is pushing 145 horsepower with no additional bulk—giving a power-to-weight ratio (0.049) in the neighborhood of a 1951 Chrysler New Yorker with the 180-hp, 331-cu.in. Firepower V-8 (0.043).
Another performance-minded upgrade to this lovely old Plymouth, also entirely period-correct, is the installation of overdrive. Chrysler was a pioneer in overdrive technology, having done the engineering on the famed Borg-Warner units back in the 1930s, but the Plymouth line didn't receive the option until the 1952 model year (the oft-misunderstood semi-automatic transmission, a Chrysler breakthrough of the 1940s, didn't become a Plymouth option until 1953).
Red carpets replaced original rubber mats.
With available rear-axle ratios of 3.73:1 or 3.90:1, the overdrive provides a welcome extension of the Plymouth's legs while on the open road. Our feature car has 3.73 gears, which act like 2.61s when overdrive is engaged. Because the overdrive parts were provided over-the-counter for installation in cars as early as 1946, its presence in our feature car may date back as early as 1952—like the 230 under the hood, the installation does nothing to detract from the vintage presentation of the car.
Overdrive is an important feature to owner Nicholas Essinger, of Troy, Ohio. Nicholas has a long line of light-blue Plymouths in his past, with his parents having owned a 1952 Plymouth Club Coupe and later a 1958 Plymouth Custom Suburban nine-passenger station wagon, both finished in that oh-so-Fifties hue. His parents' experience with Chrysler products led him to purchase a new 1963 Chrysler Newport hardtop (in light blue) just before entering the armed forces.
While modern Chryslers are of a decidedly different ilk from their pre-K-car ancestors, the older models remain accessible, affordable, and eminently useable. That's especially true for those that don't say GTX, Road Runner, or 'Cuda on the side. Back in 2009, Nicholas purchased a 1948 Plymouth Special Deluxe, one of the P15 models that has such a dedicated following these days. While it was painted maroon rather than light blue, the biggest issue Nicholas found with the car was its lack of overdrive.
"That Plymouth was a great car," he recalls, echoing Plymouth's own advertising of the era. "Then or now. It had excellent steering, shifting, braking, and general operation. It had good outward visibility and plenty of room inside the car for the 1940s, but it did not have overdrive, which I felt was required for relaxed highway driving."
The P15 was eventually passed on to one of Nicholas' doctors at the United States Department of Veterans Affairs (who subsequently retrofit overdrive) and Nicholas went looking for a similar car, but with overdrive already installed and from the 1949-'52 short-wheelbase line with the fastback body style. He started his search in the spring of 2016 and by July, he had found his car. It came from a fellow member of the Plymouth Owners Club out in Washington and it was even appropriately finished in Wedgewood Blue.
The car had been partially restored almost 20 years previous and had accumulated just enough wear and tear in the interim to make Nicholas feel good about driving it. "The restoration was good," he says, "The undercarriage is beautiful, as are the body and the chrome. There are a few stone chips on the blue paint, but that is the price one pays to drive such a wonderful car."
Inside, similar sentiments prevail. "The interior is really fabulous: It's a neutral light tan and gray broadcloth material in a striped pattern, with maroon lower seats, door trim and arm rests. It just might be mostly original, but I'm pleased that they did not leave the original light-gray woodtone on the dash and window garnish— I've seen a few others and it's boring, not like the darker walnut of previous years. Instead, it was painted the same light blue as the body and is more attractive." Similarly, the original-equipment rubber floor mats were replaced with red carpet.
That interior makes for a nice place to while away the miles. Chrysler's focus on designing cars from the inside out may have resulted in less showroom traffic, but it makes for a great road trip car. "That cowl vent," Nicholas says, pointing out an old-fashioned feature that was already starting to go away in 1951, "is greatly appreciated. The front vents open and the side windows all roll down to allow fresh air to move through. The front seat moves for a comfortable driving position and to give a good view of the instrument panel—which is equipped with full gauges—and it has excellent visibility, especially out the back glass. This is not a big Chrysler sedan, but there is adequate room for six people." Those passengers will ride in comfort, too, thanks to "Airfoam seat cushions, and lots of leg and head room, especially in back."
The original 97-hp, 218-cu.in. flathead six-cylinder was replaced with a 230-cu.in. six from a 1958 Dodge equipped with aftermarket speed parts—intake manifold, camshaft, and header.
To dial in the car for all the driving, Nicholas made just a few more changes and saw to a bit of maintenance when he got the car home. The first order of business was to finish wiring up the overdrive, a task he entrusted to Hudson enthusiast Noel Renner, also of Troy. Noel also installed a Westach tachometer for Nicholas. "I'm not into hot-rodding or rallying, but I like to see the engine rpm drop 30 percent when I shift into overdrive."
Other additions include seatbelts and a set of curb feelers to protect the BFGoodrich Silvertown wide-whitewall tires. To ensure maximum tread life, Nicholas had the wheels aligned, and it was now ready to go enjoy the rumble of the dual glasspacks on the open road.
Since then, the car has racked up the miles, including a 422-mile road trip to the Plymouth Grand Nationals in Novi and Northville, Michigan, in July 2018. Nicholas describes that trip as "pure enjoyment," cruising between 52 and 56 mph in the slow lane and receiving "a lot of thumbs up" along the way. He even reports the big Dodge six "used no oil and yielded about 20 mpg." It seems there's something to be said for all those period accessories.
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Images from Pat Foster's collection
Courtesy of Pat Foster
One of the first products of the Mitchell Motor Car Company was the small runabout seen here. Although the photo is identified as a 1903 model it appears to be of later vintage, possibly 1904/1905.
The Mitchell saga began in 1838 when Scottish immigrant Henry Mitchell moved to Kenosha, Wisconsin, and established the Mitchell Wagon Company, a manufacturer that became known as "The first wagon maker of the Northwest." Successful almost from the start, in 1854 Mitchell moved his business to larger quarters in nearby Racine. It continued to expand and in time son-in-law William Lewis joined the company. Lewis eventually headed the firm and changed its name to Mitchell & Lewis Wagon Company. During the Gay Nineties, Mitchell & Lewis established another business, the Wisconsin Wheel Works, to produce bicycles, and for a while was manufacturing light motorcycles too. Thus,established in the transportation field, the idea of producing automobiles was the next logical step.
In a major change of company direction, Wisconsin Wheel Works sold its bicycle business and was succeeded by the Mitchell Motor Car Company, a subsidiary of the Mitchell-Lewis Wagon Company. The former’s first models were two small runabouts: one powered by a 7-hp, single-cylinder two-stroke engine, the other by a 4-hp, four-stroke single. Reportedly, sales were modest, despite prices that began at a mere $600 for the 4-hp model. It seems the company initially had difficulty reaching high-volume production due to problems acquiring sufficient parts and components, but when resolved sales quickly improved.
For 1904 a new 7-hp two-cylinder runabout on a 72-inch wheelbase chassis, and a 16-hp four-cylinder touring model on a 90-inch wheelbase, replaced the previous one-lungers. The two-passenger runabout was priced at $750, while the five-passenger touring car started at $1,500.
Courtesy of Pat Foster
Mitchell’s 1910 cars were priced from $1,100 to $2,000. The company said of its car, “It is rakish, smart, refined, solid, comfortable and luxurious. It is silent in running – absolutely silent – and it will last and serve you faithfully for years to come.”
In the years that followed Mitchell cars grew bigger and more powerful. In 1906 a 24/30-hp five-passenger, 100-inch wheelbase Model D-4 Touring car joined the expanded line-up priced at $1,800. The company reportedly sold 663 cars that year. For 1907 Mitchell offered three distinct series: the Model E, a 20-hp two-passenger Runabout on a 90-inch wheelbase; the Model D 24/30-hp five-passenger 100-inch wheelbase Touring; and the Model F seven-passenger Touring on a 108-inch wheelbase. Prices ranged from $1,000 to $2,000 and total sales more than doubled.
By 1910, Mitchell was offering five models: two- and three-passenger runabouts and a Runabout Surrey in the Model R series, each powered by a 30-hp four-cylinder engine and priced at $1,100; and two touring cars, a 30-hp four-cylinder Model T for $1,350, and a 50-hp six-cylinder Model S priced at a lofty $2,000. That year’s sales totaled 5,733 units. (There was even a jaunty little song titled "Give Me a Spin in Your Mitchell, Bill,” a recording of which can still be found on the internet.) The same year, Lewis retired, and Mitchell Motor Car Company and Mitchell & Lewis merged to form the Mitchell-Lewis Motor Company with Lewis’s son,William Mitchell Lewis, named president.
In 1912 a stylish $2,500 four-cylinder Limousine joined a line-up that included a budget-priced 25-hp Runabout for $950 and an $1,150 Touring car, both of which used a four-cylinder engine and a 100-inch wheelbase chassis. Also available was a $1,350 four-cylinder Touring, while a Model 5-6 34-hp Baby Six Touring and Roadster were available on a 125-inch wheelbase, each costing $1.750. Finally, there was a big seven-passenger Model 7-6 six-cylinder Touring on a regal 135-inch wheelbase for $2,250. Sales for the year were 5,145 cars.
Courtesy of Pat Foster
The Mitchell line of six-cylinder cars for 1917 saw lower prices, with the Mitchell seven-passenger priced at $1,460 and the Mitchell Junior priced at $1,150.
Unfortunately, sales were just 3,087 cars in 1913 and William M Lewis left the firm to start a new company building the so-called Lewis car. Banker Joseph Winterbottom took over as president and the firm was reorganized as the Mitchell Motors Company. Only 3,500 Mitchells were sold in 1914, perhaps a result of the company’s emphasis on higher-priced models. For 1915 new lower-priced Light Four and Light Six models seemed just the thing to spark a revival, and some 6,174 Mitchells were sold that year.
Mitchell sales manager Otis Friend then took over as president. Believing that offering more cylinders was the way to go, for 1916 the company dropped its four-cylinder models in favor of value-priced six- and eight-cylinder cars. It was the right move; sales climbed to 9,589 units, its highest total yet.
The company continued to flourish, selling 10,069 cars in 1917, but in ‘18 Otis Friend left to start his own car company in Pontiac, Michigan. Replacing him was formerGeneral Electric executive D.C. Durland. Things initially went well, and by 1919, Mitchell prices ranged from $1,275 to $2,850; some 10,100 cars were sold. While the company was profitable, it seems management might have been feeling over-confident because for ‘20 it was decided new Mitchells would feature unique styling touches to help them stand out.
Sedans boasted unusual vee'd windshields, with a prominent forward-placed center post supporting angled side panes, and cowls featured a forward sweep on each side, very much in the style of expensive custom-built cars. The angle of the sweep didn’t match the angle of the windshield post, which gave the closed cars a slightly odd appearance. The biggest styling feature, one that was impossible to ignore, was a radiator that tilted back at a noticeable angle. Print advertisements bragged that "Future styling trends…" were "Forecasted by the new Mitchell design." Ads claimed, "These new Mitchell Sixes bring to motoring America its first accurate example of the coming style [and].... viewed from any angle–from inside or out - the effect is impressive."
Courtesy of Pat Foster
The 1920 Mitchell Touring car, to my eyes, looks a bit sporty with its sweptback radiator shell, but many buyers didn’t like it.
Looking at the 1920 Mitchells today it’s difficult to see any big styling problem. In fact, on Touring models the sweptback radiator adds to the sporty appeal, at least in my opinion. But on closed cars the different lines and angles of the split vee-d windshield post, cowl sweeps, and radiator shell offer too much visual conflict. Apparently, they must have seemed even more at odds with convention then because the ’20 models soon earned the nickname “The Drunken Mitchells.”
Pundits love to poke fun, so "The Drunken Mitchell” sobriquet stuck. It’s easy to guess what happened next. Sales fell 36 percent, with the slump worsening in 1921 when a mere 2,162 cars were sold, this even after a hasty restyle. The ’22 model year was about the same. Then in 1923 Mitchell sales collapsed entirely and only about 100 cars were sold. The company had come to the end of the line. Despite a history going back more than 80 years, Mitchell was gone by the end of 1923.
One company benefitted from Mitchell’s demise. In January 1924, the Nash Motors Company of Kenosha, needing more production capacity, acquired the Mitchell plant for $405,000.
Photography by Scotty Lachenauer
Photo by Scotty Lachenauer
Tim, a resident of West Deptford, New Jersey, is well versed in Buick’s Riviera legacy, thanks largely tohis dad, Gene Guarnere, who has had a penchant for the personal luxury car since he was a teen. “My dad has been into first generation Rivieras since he came home from Vietnam in 1967. That’s when he got his first ’64 to drive back and forth from South Philadelphia to Fort Dix, to finish his draft requirement,” Tim says.
Since then, Tim estimates his dad has owned too many Rivieras to count, through a combination of having driven, collected, parted out, and rebuilt many for resale. Though the Riviera nameplate lasted for eight generations of production, and thirty-six years as a standalone model, the 1963-’65 editions will always be Gene’s favorite. “There’s something about those Rivieras. There was really nothing like them on the market at the time,” Gene says.
The Riviera name had a long history with Buick. It first appeared in conjunction with the revolutionary true hardtop design unveiled within the 1949 Roadmaster lineup, the missing B-pillar ushering in “Riviera styling.” That design moniker evolved slightly through the mid-Fifties, provoking thoughts of elegant open road motoring for a modest price, and it even survived Buick’s model name revamp of ’59, when it became a trim level within the Electra 225 series though ’62.
Right about the time the dust was settling from the Buick renaming buzz, GM Advanced Styling guru Ned Nickles had already created a sketch of a new car that–according to later interviews with Nickles and GM Styling boss Bill Mitchell–was based on Mitchell’s foggy visit to London, where he spotted a custom-bodied Rolls-Royce in front of the Savoy hotel. Mitchell is famously quoted as saying, “make it a Ferrari-Rolls-Royce.”
Photo by Scotty Lachenauer
What makes this 1964 Buick Riviera desirable among collectors is the optional dual-quad 425-cu.in. V-8, which boasted 360 hp. It would become the foundation of Gran Sport option a year later.
Coincidentally, Cadillac was considering the introduction of a junior line to bolster sales, helping prompt the development of the XP-715 project (Mitchell is also quoted as saying GM didn’t take kindly to Ford attending the Motorama events to study concept cars, which lead to the four-seat Thunderbird, prompting development of the XP-715). Unofficially, it was dubbed La Salle II, but by the time a full-size clay mockup had been created, Cadillac had reversed its sales slump and was having trouble filling orders. It didn’t need a new car complicating matters.
The XP-715 might have been forgotten had Buick’s general manager Ed Rollert not learned of its unclaimed status. He made a pitch for the project but would have to fight for rights to it with Oldsmobile’s and Pontiac’s management. The latter was lukewarm on the idea of adding another series, while Olds wanted to modify the existing design, something Mitchell was deadset against. By April 1961, the XP-715 / La Salle II concept mockup was photographed wearing Buick emblems.
In the fall of 1962, Buick rolled out the Riviera on a new E-body platform. The car was a departure for Buick, with “knife edge” body lines, minimal trim, a Ferrari-like egg-crate style grille flanked by running lamps/signal indicators behind 1938-’39 inspired La Salle grilles, and kickups over the rear wheels designed to hint at the car’s power (helping conjure the “Coke bottle” design nomenclature). It was an amalgam of styles, fitting in somewhere between a sports car and luxury car, all rolled up in one breathtaking package.
Speaking of power, the Riviera was equipped with Buick’s four-barrel equipped 401-cu.in. V-8 that boasted 325 hp and 445 lb-ft. of torque, though in early December, the division started to offer the 340-hp, four-barrel 425-cu.in. engine as optional Riviera equipment. Just 2,601 examples of the latter were produced. Backing either engine Buick’s Twin Turbine Dynaflow automatic in its final year of production.
Photo by Scotty Lachenauer
Although the cabin is in dire need of detailing, it looks otherwise complete.
A year later, Buick management elevated the 340-hp, single four-barrel 425 engine to standard power team status, paired with a new Super Turbine 400 automatic transmission. Peppy as the engine was, a dual four-barrel version of the 425 became available, known as the “Super Wildcat.” Aside from its eye-opening 360 hp and 465 lb-ft. of torque, it looked the part of a performertoo, due to finned aluminum rocker covers and a twin-snorkel chrome air cleaner assembly. Despite its low production, only 2,122 of the 37,658 Rivieras built for ’64 came equipped as such, this engine became the cornerstone of Riviera’s Gran Sport package for ’65, cementing Buick’s legacy as a luxurious personal muscle car.
Although any first-gen Riviera is a great score to Tim and Gene, some examples are better than others, whether it was due to overall condition or the car’s born-with options. So, when this 1964 Riviera popped up on Gene’s radar 30-plus years ago, he quickly made a deal. “The history between my dad and this car is a long one. He first bought this car in northeast Philadelphia for $1,450 in the early Nineties,” Tim says.
The reason Gene wanted it more than any other that previously crossed his path was that not only was it in reasonably good shape, but the Buick also turned out to be one of the relatively rare dual-quad 425 examples. But like many of the Rivieras that came Gene’s way over the years, the Buick didn’t stick around too long. “The car was sold and/or traded multiple times for the first fifteen years my dad knew about it,” Tim says.
Photo by Scotty Lachenauer
However, like all good things, they somehow find their way home and this car is no exception. “For some reason, the Riviera always ended up with us some way or another. I finally ended up buying the car from the last owner in 2009. He had it stored in my dad’s barn during his ownership, so we knew it was in a safe place for a long time. I now have it tucked away in one of my garages waiting for the next phase in its lifeline.”
What Tim has in possession is an interesting example beyond the power team. “This Riviera is typical of the examples built in ’64. It’s just chock full of options that cater to the upscale buyers that would have had the funds to purchase one of these high-end rides from the dealership.”
Present within are many of the accoutrements that catered to the posh consumers in the luxury sports car market. Options here include the Deluxe vinyl and cloth interior, tilt column, and power seats. Power windows and power vent windows add to the lavishness of the Buick’s aesthetic, while its front seat belts, rear armrests, wood ornamentation, and rear defroster only add to the upscale feel.
Though it's seen better days, the condition of the interior is remarkable, knowing of its lengthy journey since it was taken off the road circa 1980. The upholstery is dirty and moldy but with a good washing it will probably clean up nicely. The dash is also in great shape, though since the V-8 has not been started in years, there’s no way to determine what gauges and switches are functional. Underneath the carpet, the floors are solid as well, owing to its life mostly indoors.
Photo by Scotty Lachenauer
The 1938-'39 La Salle grille is said to have inspired the Riviera's vertically stacked running lamp grilles.
Under the hood it looks as if the engine has barely been touched. It’s “KX” code stamped on the block is still visible, the original Carter carburetors are present, and the wiring and plumbing still appear usable. The air conditioning looks to be intact as well. Finally, power brakes and power steering round out the luxury amenities.
Outside, the body is in excellent shape for a car of this vintage. The last 30-plus years of indoor storage has helped keep the metal intact, though minor body work will be needed on the quarter panels to get it up to snuff. The original Claret Mist paint has turned to a satin finish under all the dirt, but a good cleaning and buff could bring it back to life. Most of the trim is also in great shape, and the car appears to be relatively complete, save for a few pieces of rear window trim.
As for the mechanical functionality beyond instrumentations, no one is really sure of its condition “My first order of business would be to send the engine to “Nailhead” Matt Martin in California, who is an artist that works in the nailhead medium; he’s the ultimate authority in these V-8s. I believe the rest of the car deserves a nut and bolt restoration, too. That time will come soon,” Tim says.
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