Less than a month after competing in my first four-day, 1000-mile car rally (read about it here) I was in a business-class seat on an SAS flight from Newark Airport to Amsterdam, where I would change carriers for the short remaining leg to Gothenburg, Sweden’s Landvetter Airport.
Yes, Gothenburg. After nearly two years of intercontinental negotiations, I was headed for a work assignment in the city where the first Volvo rolled off the assembly line just over seventy-one years earlier.
As I watched the flight path unfolding on the seatback screen in front of me, I reflected on my first business trip to Gothenburg back in 1979. Back then, SAS and others offered real linen tray-table cloths, miniature glass salt and pepper shakers, and real cutlery, not to mention chef-curated cuisine.
The first course of a SAS business-class meal, late-1970s style. (Source: SAS Flygmuseet)
By 1979, I was working in the Technical Analysis section of Volvo of America’s Product Planning and development department, and had just finished my design contribution to the VCC, or Volvo Concept Car, a precursor to the 700-series Volvo sedan which would reach North America for the 1983 model year (and the station wagon, which followed in 1985).
Pixel by pixel, and without the use of modern design aids such as Autocad and others, I had designed the displays for that car’s dual-CRT-screen instrument cluster, hunched over a king-size drafting table and working on multiple sheets of grid-patterned drafting vellum.
The dual-CRT instrument cluster as installed in the Volvo Concept Car prototype. The dash was an engineering mock-up.
My boss at the time, a Swedish national who was in the midst of his own temporary work assignment in Rockleigh, NJ, was a human factors engineer specializing in the science of ergonomics. That is, designing a vehicle’s controls, displays, and seating while taking into consideration the capabilities and limitations of the broadest range of potential users possible. For Volvo, of course, safety was the primary driver of this applied research.
He must have appreciated my work on the VCC, for he was allowed to have me accompany him on his next trip to Gothenburg. As I wished to experience Sweden beyond the typical business/tourist experience, he set me up in a spacious apartment near the city center. I thus had the opportunity to do my own food shopping, taxi hailing, and other daily activities as a native might (although with less than a complete command of the language; that would come decades later).
One of the highlights of that 1979 trip was a personal audience with Volvo chief designer Jan Wilsgaard, who was then putting the finishing touches on the 760/740 series – particularly the station wagons. My boss acted as the interpreter, and I remember a lot of back-and-forth Swedish, as well as being asked whether I preferred to work with exterior or interior design. (I think I replied “interior” because that’s where the driver and passengers’ daily experience with the car is centered – and that’s where the challenges of human factors design can really make or break a vehicle in the eyes of the customer.)
Jan Wilsgaard in Volvo’s Gothenburg design center, not too many years after my meeting with him. (Source: www.youtube.com car design archives)
Nothing immediately came of that meeting, I thought, coming back to late-spring 1998 reality as we were winging our way over the Atlantic. Working in product development within the Volvo Cars of North America sales and marketing organization offered me day-to-day involvement in a wide range of projects, all of which supported the brand in one way or another, and most of which satisfied my creative jones…
During the height of the CB craze, I was asked to design a fully integrated hand-held unit. Got your ears on, good buddy?
But here I was on my way to the Mother Ship, a destination I could only have dreamed of back in 1979, where I would be immersed in an actual new-car development project, representing VCNA’s interests as well as those of our future customers.
So it was that after landing in Gothenburg in late-June 1998, I settled into another apartment, this one provided by Volvo as one of many furnished living quarters reserved for their ex-pat employees.
My no-cost Swedish digs in 1998 were hardly this luxurious, but they were more than adequate. Living close to a tram stop, I could easily visit Gothenburg’s city center with no parking worries.
I was also provided with a company car, a 1998 Volvo V40 station wagon. Unlike the 1.9-liter turbocharged versions of the V40 and S40 sedan that would be introduced in the States a couple of years later, this one was naturally-aspirated. Not exactly a thrilling daily driver, its main redeeming feature was its manual gearbox, also never offered in the U.S. during this generation.
A dead ringer for my company car in Sweden, right down to the full wheel covers. No alloy wheels here!
I understood that I would be working within a multi-disciplinary team involved in the design and development of Volvo’s small-car successors to the S40 and V40, a range of cars that was intended to continue the Swedish brand’s relationship with Mitsubishi into the future, as the then-current 40-series cars were a joint Volvo/Mitsubishi development, largely based on the Japanese automaker’s Carisma-series compact vehicle architecture.
The Volvo S40 and Mitsubishi Carisma shared a platform and rolled off the same Volvo Car BV assembly line in Born, Netherlands.
Little did I know that in less than a year, the scope of the project would dramatically change…
(Featured image from www.flickr.com)
Great series Stephen – as a current Volvo C30 owner for 12 years, am looking forward to any experiences you had with its creation/design.
“No alloy wheels here!”
Steel rims with hubcaps are much more suitable than alloys – especially for winter duty in Northern climate..
The wheel is less sensitive to brine – at least it is easier to deoxidize and to paint. The hubcap will protect wheel nuts or bolts almost perfectly against all kinds of slush and rust.
Swedes are pragmatic people.
Exactly. Your comment reminds me that the wheel trim rings found on earlier Volvo models were sometimes referred to as “snobbringar” by those pragmatic and practical Swedes…
The early 70s cars also had a big Phillips head screw in the hub cap, which kept them from getting lost. The only time I’ve seen that since was my Saturn where the plastic fake lug nuts in the wheel cover screwed onto the real lug nuts underneath.
Volvo hubcaps certainly went through some evolution. My parents’ 544 and early 122S had weighty chrome caps with red painted centers, plus chrome trim rings. My later 122S had the slotted steel wheels with much more discreet center caps. And then my mom’s final Volvo 240 had large intricate and not very sturdy molded plastic things. I liked the slotted wheels as found on 1965 and newer 122’s (and even the last year 544) and early 140’s, best.
There’s a more obvious reason: cost. We tend to forget that Americans almost invariably paid quite a bit more than Europeans for European cars, and that they came equipped much more completely. A buyer in the US generally wasn’t buying a nice European car as a low cost “stripper”; there was prestige associated with it. But in Europe these were just basic cars, and came equipped as such, including smaller engines, no a/c and other items we took for granted. Even most Mercedes came with steel wheels and plastic wheel covers, like this 230CE coupe. Alloys were optional.
The pacing of this introductory edition is immaculate. I greatly enjoyed reading this. Very interesting point in time to reflect on as well. Both in terms of world events and what was going on in your life. Well done!
^ We had a 240 wagon when I was a little kid. Not sure of the year(88 or 90??) but it had those ugly, flat, plastic full wheel covers. And the big ugly us spec plastic composite headlights. The 240 a few years earlier with quad sealed beams and steel wheels/trim rings/small center cap looked a lot better.
Anyways that car was bought new and was a total lemon. Had an electrical short that would randomly leave you with no dash lights. Or a random no start. Dealer couldnt fix it and it was traded in on a 1991 Buick regal sedan. Which was a great reliable car. As a kid the plush velour seats were so much nicer than that hot ass tan vinyl. And the power windows were pretty trick vs the cranks in the Volvo
That was my experience with the late 70s (new) 240 wagon. Also, tires would deflate irrationally and intermittently because the beading couldn’t set well to the steel wheels. It was slow and put me off Volvos for a looong time. A lemon, indeed, spending too much time at the dealership.
Great essay! I await the ensuing chapters.
You designed the integrated hand-held Volvo CB radio!!???
I’ve coveted one of those for years. They’re extraordinarily rare. I’ve seen them in Volvo audio component brochures (of the time) and once on eBay, but never an actual unit.
Respect. 🙂
Enjoyable read, especially as my gr grandfather Ole came to the US from Goteborg around 1896. I’d love to visit Sweden before I get much older, time is running out.
2 of our 240s had plastic wheel covers, 2 had the “turbine” alloys. All were fine, unlike the disintegrating wiring on the later ones.
Fascinating, love the detailed story .
-Nate