After graduating, I took a summer job at an auto repair shop in Palisades Park, NJ. I don’t recall all the details, but one day after work I discovered someone had banged into the left front fender of my Imperial parked on the side street across from the shop, and created quite a dent. The next day, some guy came by the shop at lunchtime; asked if the Imperial was mine, and told me he could take out the dent without having to do any major body work or repainting. I accepted his offer and paid him whatever he asked to repair it, and later when I came out to inspect the results he told me to leave the ‘soap’ that covered the supposedly-repaired area until later.
So I waited until later to clean off the soap as he suggested. Underneath the soap all the paint was still there, but the surface of the fender had all these hammer marks in it from banging out the dent, and it looked awful. The original dent had looked better. That incident was really what cooled me on keeping the car, because as I recall I never got that repaired properly.
I was not thrilled to be working so far away, and just before the Christmas season I got a job as a stockboy at a large store in the Paramus Mall. After the holidays, many of us were laid off—it was time to get a real job. I applied at McCrane Auto Company, a DeSoto-Plymouth Dealer in Hackensack. I got the job and began my Chrysler mechanic career. I often visited my friend Joe, who lived in Wyckoff, and on George Washington’s Birthday 1959, once again made a visit. On the way up I passed that same Chrysler dealer I had purchased my Imperial from and spotted this awesome 1958 Plymouth Fury on the front line of the used car lot.
I decided to stop on my way home, and worked a deal to trade in my ‘51 Imperial for the ‘58 Fury. Of course, I had to get my mother’s OK and rearrange the car loan at our bank, so I had to wait to close the deal until later. I took delivery of an almost new car at the age of 20. When I drove my new car to work, the management was upset because I had not bought it there, but they didn’t have a ‘58 Fury. And the ‘59 was not a limited edition, as had been the ‘56-‘58. The Fury was my daily driver, and I enjoyed it immensely. Summer or winter and in between, I drove it everywhere. On Saturday night and Sunday afternoon I was off to the stock car races—Middletown, New York on Saturday, and Nazareth, Pennsylvania on Sundays. That racked up a lot of miles, and snow didn’t stop us in Winter.
In 1959; 1960, and 1961 I worked at McCrane DeSoto-Plymouth. 1961 was an awful year for the Chrysler line in general, in my opinion.
Now, Larry Landrine was a nice man with a small auto repair shop, there since the 1900s (or at least the 1920s), in the not-so-nice part of Englewood, New Jersey. It was next to what was at the time called a Colored bar. Larry had worked at the shop during the 1929 stock market crash; as he tells it, he got the shop when the former owner offed himself due to the crash. Larry offered me substantially better pay ($100 a week) than I was earning at the dealership ($65), and the new 1961 cars were really just plain ugly, especially the Plymouth, so I took him up on his offer and went to work for him.
The door for cars to drive in and out was at the front of the shop, separated from the busy 2-way street by just a narrow sidewalk and ramped curb, like this upholstery shop Daniel Stern wrote about:
Larry’s basic rule № 1 was NEVER, EVER START AN ENGINE INSIDE THE SHOP. He would not tolerate the exhaust, though he didn’t mind (insisted on) raw gasoline to wash parts with—of course it was leaded at that time, and parts-washing was done with bare hands. I often wondered how we never burned the place down; the parts-washing sink was located right below the wooden staircase up to the upper floor storage loft. At least there was no water heater pilot light to spark off a blaze; we washed our hands with cold water both Summer and Winter. There was a boiler in the basement where I suppose you could get hot water, but as far as I knew, that was only for the wall mounted radiators that hung around the stone walled shop.
Anyway, the rule was no starting engines inside the shop. So, having finished a tune-up on some old 1950s car, I’d sit in the driver’s seat wondering if it would even start. Larry would open the garage door, watch for a traffic gap, holler “No cars coming!” …and out he would push the car! When the tail end would hit the fresh outside air, I was to hit the starter and back the car into the street. Fortunately, they always started.
Larry and his wife Ruth loved to hunt bear and deer in the Fall and Winter, and had photos of their 1951 Buick with deer and bears strapped across the front and back—and top, too, as I recall—and there the two stood beside the car in their hunting outfits, shotguns in hand. He reminded me of the ‘medicine man’ character in the old western movies as he was a seller of all sorts of automotive elixirs:
• ClearEx exhaust air injection. Before it was a factory-installed emission control strategy, it was an accessory add-on said to clean up the exhaust and allow it to flow more clearly and evenly, like venting a Carnation coffee creamer can for it to pour smoothly. According to Larry, it worked; vehicles that ran hard and hot would sometimes have the exhaust manifolds glowing, and Clearex was supposed to eliminate that. I can see how that might not be fact, since years later we would see CHP cars with air injection get the manifolds glowing hot at times.
• Aviex penetrants and ‘tune-up fluid’ types of products (oops…)
• Dyna-Flyte center-pivot ball-bearing distributor breaker plates. These pivoted around the same axis as the distributor shaft, so the dwell didn’t change with increasing vacuum advance, as it did with the factory plate’s pivot axis off to the side of the shaft. That meant the timing of the engine was solely dependent on centrifugal and vacuum advance.
• Frantz toilet paper oil cleaners—on his 1951 Buick, Larry ran Oilzum non-detergent 30-weight oil and never removed the oil pan drain plug, just changed filter cartridges and toilet paper. You could pull the dipstick at any time—1956 or 1970—and the oil was still as clear as before. Larry died before the engine was ever touched, and he’d had it since new.
He stocked Baldwin filter products, and was a distributor of Oilzum engine oil to the local trucking companies (Oilzum appears to be still around, maybe sputtering a little). It was truly like a scene from Doc’s lab in “Back to The Future” when you were inside the shop!
Larry’s basic rule № 2 was to SELL any new customer any or all the products we had. So a tune-up would consist of installing this ball bearing Dyna-Flyte breaker plate in the distributor in place of “that deficient factory friction plate”. Also, depending on the engine, drill and tap a ½” pipe hole in the exhaust manifold(s) and install the ClearEx device(s). This, of course, was dependent on convincing the owner that they needed these additions to their engine. Larry was a master of the hard sell; I used to pity the poor customer when this great big bear of a man would stand nearly nose-to-nose with a potential customer and slowly back them against a wall until they agreed (or disagreed). He expected his employee to be able to do the same, but the sales pitch didn’t work as well when I tried it; I was built more like Bambi!
In retrospect, Larry was so generous with his pay offering because his previous employee had left the building after launching a sledgehammer in his (Larry’s) direction. A proper farewell, he would say! When I went in to pick up parts at the local jobbers, and I said I was there for parts for Landrine, the faces of the sales crew reflected potential for some fun. They began betting on how long ‘this one will last’ before I even had a chance to say more. As time went on, they would all have lost! Larry was interesting to work with; he was strict and wanted it his way, but he was fair—at least in his estimation.
Previous chapters:
That ’58 Fury is amazing; it’s no wonder you fell in love with it! I peruse a Pontiac forum regularly, and there’s a guy on there who promotes Frantz oil filters. I’ve never understood how the TP doesn’t dissolve!
Oh, it does, if you leave it in longer than you’re told to. Or if you use anything but the official genuine Frantz –
toilet paper rolls– replacement filter media.All the cars I have owned as my primary driver have rated 5 Stars in my judgement. Becoming a MOPAR guy was only strengthened over the years even though there were lean years along the way, but mechanically I would certainly rate them ‘best engineered’ of the American brands even as we come to the FWD cars and vans of the ’80s and up.
Much more to come but we are not there yet, the 60s are next.
The DeSoto Plymouth sign grabbed my attention. In the 1950s our community of about 12,000 had a DeSoto Plymouth, a Dodge Plymouth, and Chrysler Plymouth dealership. Dad knew Buck Bowman owner of the DeSoto Plymouth dealership, which was the smallest of the three. On November 22, 1959, we traded our 1950 Nash AMBASSADOR (still in great shape but lacking power steering). Mom had developed arthritis in her shoulders and was having problems parking. The car of choice was a beautiful black 55 DeSoto fresh from service at a local funeral home. Loved that car and learned to drive on it. Parents passed up chances to trade for 59 ADVENTURER as well as last 61 DeSoto in the area. Then in the summer of 62, they traded the 55 for a new 62 Plymouth Belvedere! Although the Belvedere gave great service for many years, it was one of my ugliest cars ever. To make matters worse, Buck offered to sell the 55 back for very reasonable price, saying it would make a good CAR for me. Dad firmly stated we were NOT going to become a three car family! The 55 sat on the front row of the dealership for weeks. Every time we passed by, I could believe I saw a tear dropping from the chrome ringed head light. While I didn’t particularly like the 61 Plymouths, they were still much better than the 62s. My ultimate favorite dream cars are 61 IMPERIAL LEBARON AND LAST 61 DeSotos. Grand finale for Exners fabulous finned fantasies. Soon after purchase of the 62 Plymouth the dealership closed. Building is still there, after serving multiple purposes. Currently it is a used appliance store. But when passing, I still think of Buck, snow white hair, smoking a cigar wheeling and dealing and his secretary doing the paper work.
I bet the guy who “soaped” your Imperial was the guy who dented it!
My thoughts exactly.
I’m enjoying this series a lot. My grandparents lived in Wyckoff for 60 years, They bought all their cars at Wyckoff Chrysler Plymouth, which I think at one time was called Franklin Motors, near the intersection of Godwin and Franklin. They were loyal to the brand from the time my grandfather came home from the war until the dawn of the 2000s. The dealership was within walking distance of their house, so they had all their service done there as well. I’d imagine they were a dealer’s dream customers. They replaced one or the other of their cars on a 3 year cycle, always paid cash, and of course generated lots of service revenue. They were truly the last of their kind. The timeline and locale of your COAL series has me thinking a lot about them- both now deceased, of course.
Maybe your grandparents even gassed up their car at Cedar Hill Service Station which was operated by my school mate’s father.
Another great chapter.
As to the Frantz TP filter and Larry never changing his oil, I call BS. The Frantz filter, which is still being sold: https://www.frantzfilters.com/ does work as an additional filtering element, but only in addition to the stock filter, as it’s a bypass unit. But the oil still needs to be changed, because no filter can eliminate the powerful acids that form in oil, especially common back then. These acids are/were a key aspect to causing wear in engines, pitting bearings and other wear surfaces.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Larry was changing the oil in his Buick, either after hours or at home. He was a master salesman, and his story of never changing the oil was undoubtedly effective.
I wonder what would have happened if he’d heard from a customer who had the filter installed, stopped changing oil, and had an engine failure. Somehow I don’t think he would have said, “My bad, I steered you wrong.”
There are true believers, but I’ve always had a hard time swallowing the Frantz claims, myself.
As for changing the oil: Well, you were meant to change the toilet paper every thousand miles, and of course that meant you’d need to add about a quart of new oil to make up for the contents of the Frantz can and the old roll of toilet paper. And if I’m not mistaken, you were still also changing the original-equipment oil filter at the specified intervals. On a ’51 Buick that was 5,000 miles, but even today, 72 years later, Americans cling to the 3,000-mile myth. Let’s guess the OE oil filter was being changed every 4,000 miles, along with another quart of oil. So even if the oil was never being drained, there was a steady infusion of new oil. Not the same thing, and I still have my doubts about Mr. Landrine’s Buick, but.
(You were also not really meant to use actual grocery store toilet paper; you were meant to use the official Frantz “cellulose filter media”, which just so happened to look just exactly like a roll of toilet paper—a very expensive one).
Yeah, but could you use the official Frantz cellulose filter media as toilet paper ? !!
I guesso. D’you feel like paying $5/roll for cellulose or more than double that for syntheticose or whatever they call it…?
Memories! I remember Crane Motors form my days in the 1970’s working for Chrysler in the distribution department in Tappan, NY. Nice history, too! Thanks.
Nice 58 Fury, I hope the build quality was better than my father’s 57 Plaza which he said was the worst car he ever owned. And he later had a Vega so that’s a pretty low bar.
Never heard of the center pivot distributor plate, interesting but probably unnecessary.
I ran one of those in my ’65 D’Valiant for awhile. Didn’t bother faffing around getting the dual points set up; I just ran a single set of points on it. Did it make a difference? As measured by a dwellmeter, yes. In terms of any apparent practical change in how the car ran? Well…no. The theory is absolutely sound, and there might’ve been cars that responded more noticeably. Perhaps an engine with a wider applied rev range than my 225 Slant-6.
But the build quality was much nicer on the Dyna-Flyte plate than on the factory plate, and it gave me a warm fuzzy knowing it was in there, so that counted for something.
My ’58 Fury was a great car which served me and then my parents for decades with none of the alleged body problems people have reported, and we lived where it snowed as you can see from one of my favorite sports in that car, plowing through snowbanks in the winter.
What happens ((or did then)) in Nazereth PA, on Sundays?
JT, interesting that you should ask. This fellow Mario began his racing career there in Nazareth, PA., along with Otto Harwi, Frankie Schnyder, Bob Malzahn. It was Nazareth Speedway where I became interested in Stock Car Racing which I have followed to this day and have met many of the drivers over the years.
Orange County Speedway in upstate NY was the track I went to on Saturday nights.
Another great chapter. I really like your recollections. And the photos of the cars (which I am generally assuming are photos of your actual cars) are excellent. You and those in your family who took pictures did a great job. So many of my photos from “back in the day” are fuzzy, blurry, things. Those pictures of your Fury (and you?) are terrific.
And thanks for posting pictures of the toilet paper oil filter. Up until now, I assumed that those were only legends and artifacts from the JC Whitney catalog. I’ve never seen one up close.
Those things actually worked???
Did they work? That depends on who’s answering, and perhaps on their deeply-held religious beliefs or beefs on the subject. I’m planning an article about those Frantz oil “cleaners” or “filterators” or probably some other names they applied over the years.
As to the photo quality: it’s as though somebody spent time cleaning and upscaling old photos or something…!
Glorious looking Fury ! .
Enjoyed the whole storyline too .
-Nate
Love the Fury pictures, reminds me of the ad for the 57 Plymouth, which would have caught my eye back in the day.
I am loving this series!! Such a shame about that lovely old Imperial, but a 58 Fury would be a nifty consolation prize. I presume it was the eggshell white color that all of them were painted? Oops – just looked it up – “buckskin beige”. The only letdown on the 58 was the most unimaginative wheel covers ever put on a car. They were nowhere near as cool as the cone-shaped units on the 57s and 59s.
A couple of random thoughts on the oil and filters. Even as late as 1960, there were still engines that did not come with oil filters as standard equipment, and those offered were of the “bypass” variety. So, adding one of those toilet paper filters would certainly have been better than no filter at all.
Also, in the early 80s I worked with a guy who owned a really, really worn out 1970 Duster. He swore by that method of never changing the oil, but only changing the filter every 3000 and adding a quart. His Duster had 200k miles on it then. I think that was the first operating 200k car I had ever seen. But by the look of the exhaust color, he was probably adding another quart or two between filter changes by then.
Guys, I thank you for your kind comments, but J P C, I must say that I never looked at wheel covers as something that had to add spice to the looks of the car. As seen in the ‘snow’ photo, the car was ‘shod’ with 15″ rims on the rear with snow tires and small ‘moon shaped’ hub caps. While I served in the USMC, the 14″ wheels were fitted with a set of ’59 Ply hub caps just so the 4 gold centered wheel covers would not be lost on some cross country trip. This car, like all my others, had to work for its keep not stand around pretending to be a show car. That could have come later, if the car had not become lost to me along the way.