Curbside Classic: 1966 Thunderbird Town Hardtop – This Bird Is Grounded, For Good

The odds of this Thunderbird flying majestically again are almost nil. Its sequential taillights are dimmed forever, unless someone comes along and strips them, as the rear bumper and enclosed new-for 1966 full-width taillights look to be intact. But other than that and a few smaller trim and interior pieces, this once-proud ‘Bird looks grounded forever.

I have some mixed feelings about that.

Here’s where it sits, on a grassy stretch next to Hwy 101 a few miles south of the town of Bandon, OR, on the way to Port Orford. Its beak is agape, as if crying out in pain. But its plaintive cries have fallen on dead ears; it’s been sitting here ever since we started going to Port Orford regularly almost four years ago. I finally stopped to at least give it some attention and memorialize it here at CC before the final blow tow comes.

True confessions: I’m not exactly a big fan of the ’64-’66 “Flair Birds”, especially the ’66 with this new “Town Hardtop” that made the roof look way too heavy and eliminated the rear side window. It rather looks like an aftermarket removable hardtop, although the weight would be considerable.

I’m actually surprised they didn’t put opera windows in it, like they did with the ’56-’57 Thunderbird. Well, they looked terrible since they obviously weren’t part of the original ’55 design. It looks like a home-brew job; it’s out of balance with the rest of the roof (and car). Of course that applies to its standard continental spare too. So much for pretending to be a genuine sports car, and the beginning of some poor styling choices to come from Ford. But look at all that ground clearance!

There, that’s much better, as it usually is with first-year models before they got affected with gee-haws and doo-hickies as part of Detroit’s infernal annual styling change policies. My first intimate introduction to these was in Iowa City, in 1962-1963 when our next door neighbor, a Russian emigree professor (or Russian) at the university rented her basement apartment to a world-class gymnast, and set up a Nissen trampoline in her back years. Yowza! That was a whole new experience.

He drove an unblemished black 1955 Thunderbird. He gave me a ride one time and I’m not sure which was more exciting; the ride or the trampoline. I was an avowed Corvette guy kid at the time, but I could already see the appeal of what had become one of the quickest and first modern “classics”, even if it wasn’t yet ten years old.

There was a “Square Bird”a few blocks away on my daily 1 mile trudge to school. I had very mixed feelings about them; yes, their bucket seat interiors were worthy of some facial smudges on the windows, but I couldn’t ever warm up to their heavy front ends and boxy bodies.

Their mouths and eyes reminded me of a deep-sea angler fish.

The arrival of the 1961 “Bullet Bird” coincided with our arrival in the US, so naturally I was smitten despite being a GM acolyte. It was good to know that Ford could design a cool car, unlike their rest of their dull lineup. But before long, even with it there began to be some cracks.

In the summers I used to ride my bike to the various car dealers and just walk right into the service areas and hang out for hours, watching the mechanics. I got friendly with one guy at the Ford dealer, and one day he was working on a Bullet Bird, and complaining about how hard they were to work on. It may seem pretty accessible from a modern perspective, but compared to other Fords and earlier cars, the low-slung unibody Thunderbird with its massive shock towers looked mighty crowded under the hood to my eyes, and to his aching hands.

I have always had a habit of wanting to see the undersides of cars, going all the way back to childhood. There were mysteries hidden under the skirts, and although I didn’t always understand what I was looking at, it was a foundational part of my education. I could lay under a car (or in the crawl space or basement of a house) for a very long time, taking it all in. Well, I tried that with that Thunderbird, and…I just couldn’t get under it properly, even in my skinny 10 year-old body. That was something new, and it was a turn-off.

There was just something about these very low and heavy and somewhat ponderous feeling unibody Thunderbirds that didn’t rub me the right way, even at the age of ten. Of course now I understand why, having read a few tales of woe and challenges in maintaining and repairing them here at CC. It’s fascinating how one can pick up things like that at such an early age. And how the resulting prejudices never quite go away, unless they’ve been unfairly acquired.

These lasting influences can bee seen here with our short, narrow and quite tall Chevy Tracker sitting there behind the long, wide and low ‘Bird. By the way, the Tracker lives in Port Orford where it gets put to excellent use in the endless forest roads (and less) in the vast rugged mountains directly to the east of the coast. And it’s never had the slightest issue since we bought it three years ago, with over 222k miles.

The Town original style Hardtop was also available along with the new Town Hardtop for 1966.

Well, the Great Brougham Epoch was now well under way, and the Thunderbird had been something of a pioneer when back in 1962 it offered the Landau version, with a padded vinyl roof and…genuine fake landau bars.

In 1966, it was renamed the Town Landau, with even bigger landau bars. The problem with the Landau was of course mixed metaphors, as it tried to bridge the early-sixties sleek and sporty mid-century modern look with the coming Brougham Era heaviness.

Here’s the pilot retracting the flaps as he’s reached cruising altitude. Actually all that there was up there were warning lights for “door ajar” “low fuel” and “seat belts” and a signal and switch for the emergency flasher. Let’s hope the pilot doesn’t need those.

The T-Birds role spanning two eras was especially apparent in the interior, where its thin shell bucket seats were hardly Brougham-Era correct.

But there were other, more important issues, in the form of the 1963 Buick Riviera. Obviously the Riviera looked years advanced from the rather ’50s dream-car looking Bullet Bird. In fact, the ’63 Riviera was undoubtedly the most forward looking and influential car of its time, heralding several new key trends in GM’s styling and ones that would greatly influence the rest of the industry.

One might have expected something equally ambitious from Ford in the new 1964 Thunderbird, but it was a serious let-down, with its heavy boxy and rectilinear body, it’s broad “shoulders” at the belt line, its fussy front end and gimmicky rear end. The Riviera seems to float; the lacking-in-flair Thunderbird looks utterly earth-bound. The fact that I could slide under the Riviera was bonus points, but the comparison was lost on me well before I ever tried that.

Yes, the Thunderbird continued to outsell the Riviera, as it had built up a very loyal following. But 1964 would be the ‘Bird’s all-time high (93k units), at least until it metamorphosed into a more grande Torino.

The 1966 Riviera upped the ante again, and obviously the ’66 Thunderbird looked even more out of date by then.

And the all-new 1967 Thunderbird failed to close the stylistic gap again. Or did it even widen it, thanks to its gaping baleen-whale maw. The rest of it wasn’t up to snuff either, but of course I see the  appeal of them now as period pieces. Or at least I try to. Frankly, the Thunderbird had lost its way some time back; 1964, I’d say.

And from my point of view, it didn’t get it back until 1983, when in a surprising and impulsive move, I actually bought one. Well, it was lighter, shorter ,taller, narrower, and I could sort-of slide under it.

Perhaps most importantly—having heeded my early lesson on the Thunderbird’s crowded engine bay—the little turbo 2.3 four was almost lost in the ’83. And Ford’s new EEEC-IV controlled engine management system and fuel injection meant that it was shockingly devoid of the usual rubber hose spaghetti. Old lessons are deeply etched.

Yes, the turbo four was a bit of a mixed bag, but its ability to cruise effortlessly at 90 or so and still get decent gas mileage was a key feature at the time, just a year or so after the second energy crisis.

As is my wont, I have digressed on my Thunderbird flight of imagination. Let’s get back to this poor old Bird, which reminds me a bit of a dead seagull washed up on the beach.

 

Its interior is in relatively better shape than its body, although that’s not saying a whole lot.

As is so common, the rarely-used rear seat is in significantly better shape. The curved seatback was the kind of affectation that looked good in paper or in the showroom, but it sure seems a bit contrived for effect, not for actual seating comfort. What exactly was the point? To force you to face a bit inward? Ah yes, to encourage socializing with your rear blind-date seat partner, undoubtedly.

Despite Ford’s claims to the contrary,

 

The proximity of the Pacific Ocean’s salt has made itself felt on this bird’s tail.

 

 

And not just on its tail.

It’s shedding its optional fender skirts. I approve. I’m still surprised at the lack of an opera window, at least on the Landau. But then they would have conflicted with its landau bars.

See what I mean about that engine compartment being a bit stuffed? Looks like mice or some other rodents have made it a home. I’m sure you all know that that’s a 390 cubic inch FE V8 in there, rated at 315 gross hp, unless of course it’s the optional 345 hp 428. Same difference, external size-wise.

Even if it still runs—which wouldn’t surprise me—it’s not going to get this ‘Bird back in the air. It might be able to move it around a bit on terra firma, but that’s not what these were made for.

 

Related CC reading:

Vintage Car Life Road Test: Disc-Braked 1965 Ford Thunderbird – Glitz And Gimmicks Galore, But Surprisingly Good At Slowing Down  by A. Severson

Curbside Classic: 1965 Ford Thunderbird Landau – Fancy Feast  by L. Jones

Curbside Classic: 1961 Ford Thunderbird – The American Dream-mobile  by PN

COAL: 1961 Ford Thunderbird – Chapter 11, Wherein Realism Crushes Optimism  by JP Cavanaugh

COAL Update: 1963 Ford Thunderbird – No Pain, No Gain  by Aaron65

Auto-Biography: 1983 Ford Thunderbird Turbo Coupe – EcoBoosted EgoBooster  by PN

1955 Ford Thunderbird – To Be A Sports Car Or Not To Be A Sports Car, That Is The Question  by PN