(first posted 11/26/2013) The early 1950s is commonly considered to be an era of dull conformity. This attitude bleeds through to American cars of those years. Everyone made cars that were the same shapes, with the same kinds of engines and transmissions and suspensions, and there just was not much variety there. Well, perhaps we should rethink this “conventional wisdom.”
Speaking from a mechanical standpoint, there was not all that much variation in the final years before the Second World War, and the sameness would reassert itself by the late 1950s. But that period within a few years either side of 1952 gave us some of the widest choices available in a generation.
Engine? You could get a modern, high performance V8 (Cadillac, Olds, Chrysler, Studebaker, Lincoln) or an old-school flathead V8 (Ford, Mercury). If you prefer an inline 8, you again have a choice of flathead (Pontiac, Packard) or overhead valve (Buick). Prefer a 6? Another choice to be had between an overhead valve (Chevrolet) and the venerable flathead (including the Hudson Hornet’s monster of a mill). There was even the unique Willys F head (here).
Transmission? Automatics were becoming all the rage, but again, there were several kinds. The four-gear HydraMatic was probably the market leader, but there were also torque converter automatics like the Buick Dynaflow, or torque converters that locked up for a “high gear” (Packard UltraMatic). Some three speed automatics also used torque converters, and even acted like two speeds in normal operation (Ford, Mercury, Studebaker). The Stude even added a lockup torque converter. Or, you could skip the complexity and just have a two speed automatic (Chevy Powerglide). Chrysler, of course, offered a variety of old-school semi-automatics mated either to a torque converter or a straight fluid coupling. Then, there were the ubiquitous three speed manuals, either with or without overdrive.
All finished? Not quite. We still have to consider whether you want an open driveshaft (most brands) or a torque tube (Buick, Chevrolet, Nash). Now, when we take these various choices between the old and the new, the common and the unique, they could be mixed and matched into a dizzing array of choices.
For those who opted for an overhead valve straight eight, a torque tube drive and a torque converter automatic, you got . . . (envelope, please) . . . a Buick! And quite a Buick it was, too.
Let’s start with that engine. Buick had been selling nothing but inline eights since 1931 (CC here), all of them of the “valve-in-head” design. Actually, there were two of them – a smaller engine in the lower lines and a big 320 cubic incher in the Roadmaster. By 1950, the smaller Buick Eight was up to 263 cubic inches, but was not long for this world with the Nailhead V8 planned for the 1953 models. Still, for the traditionally-minded, you could do a lot worse than the smooth, torquey old straight eight. Actually, the smaller Fireball Eight as used in this car would appear for the last time in the 1953 base-level Buick Special, with the Nailhead reserved for the upper models. And in a switch, the ’53 Super (Buick’s middle child) would no longer have to share its little brother’s engine, but would get the same shiny new V8 that was in the Roadmaster.
The Buick also retained the traditional torque tube. I have always been fascinated by this now-obsolete design, which rigidly attached a tube that surrounded the driveshaft to the transmission, making the entire engine/transmission/driveline/differential assembly a single assembly (with a single universal joint to account for suspension travel.) The torque tube design allowed Buick to become one of the first cars to employ a soft coil spring rear suspension, because the car’s drive forces were transmitted to the car through the engine and its mounts instead of through heavy, bulky rear leaf springs.
There was nothing traditional, however, about the Dynaflow automatic transmission that lived between the other two old-time components. Where Oldsmobile, Cadillac and Pontiac sold a lot of cars with Hydra-Matic Drive, this was not an option available to Buick. The original Hydra-Matic was a sort of jerky unit that would have transmitted an intolerable amount of harshness through the car due to the torque tube, so something smoother was necessary. Voila – nothing smoother than a pure torque converter which (at least in normal operation) completely eliminated gear shifts. Nothing slower or less efficient, either. But did a Buick buyer really care?
One new feature for 1952 was power steering, and Buick spent quite a few ad dollars letting everyone know about it. Although Chrysler beat GM to market by a year, it did so by using a less advanced system that provided boost all the time, and not just when called for. The system used by GM did not supply hydraulic assistance until there was some steering load. This system provided traditional road feel when cruising straight ahead, and power boost only when needed for turning.
Enough about this cars oily innards. This is, after all, a BUICK! In 1952, a car did not get any more “establishment” than Buick. Which, in 1952, was not really a bad thing. Doesn’t this thing just scream “I Like Ike?” Buick had been churning out big, comfortable, attractive, well-built cars for decades by then, and had developed a well-earned reputation as the standard by which all near-luxury cars were judged. A Buick in that era was the car that every other purveyor of higher-priced cars compared their cars to.
Doesn’t this big Super just reek of “Buick-ness?” Then (as now), there was nothing more desirable than a big, good looking car with that bank-vault-like Fisher Body and all of the trim touches that told the world that you were someone to be reckoned with. The Europeans and Japanese may occupy this ground in the minds of many today, but in 1952, cars like this were built by Buick. The guy who first bought this Buick probably proudly wore an expensive fedora up top and Florsheim wing tip shoes down below. “Let me have a couple of those Dollar cigars, there, Jasper.” Yes, this man would drive a Buick. And not a Roadmaster, either – that would just be flashy. This next-in-line Super model was plenty of Buick for him, and far enough up from the base Special to announce that he was no poser.
I didn’t see who was driving this Buick. I was sitting in a drive-thru line at a fast foodery one day this past summer, when I saw it in the parking lot of a nearby boat company. The car seats in the back tells me that today’s driver of this super Super would not fit the old stereotype. What lucky kids – they have no idea how good they have it. Will they ever be satisfied in the back of a Camry? Not likely. But is it right to waste all of this legroom on people who use child seats? Maybe the owner of this Buick and I should swap cars for a few years.
I realize that this post is getting a bit long, but you must understand that there were just so many fascinating details to photograph on this fabulous old sled. So, I guess I shall have to keep yammering on about this Flint Flyer until I have shown you all of its cool jewelry. Just in case you may have forgotten how fond Harley Earl was of Chrome in his final decade running GM styling, this Buick is here to remind us. The car’s many square yards of plated surfaces are simply dazzling on a bright summer day (although they gave the ol’ JPC DroidCam quite the challenge.)
In truth, I don’t know what kind of a car I might have chosen in 1952. I have lately been kind of enamored with the Chrysler FirePower V8 mated to a Fluid Torque tranny. But I have always been a little out of the mainstream. Actually, most people probably didn’t care that much about the guts of their cars. Then (as now) eight cylinders and an automatic transmission was probably as far as they got. What sold an upper price car was substance, quality and style. This Buick Super certainly gave its owner all that, plus a double helping of gravitas to go along with it.
The 1942 Roadmaster
Johnnys 1948 Roadmaster Johnny and I overhauled the engine in 2018. We also rebuilt the transmission our selves in 1976. Last year I replaced the seals in the tail of the transmission.
This photograph was taken in 1957 in Hancock,NY of the first 47 Buick Johnny had.
This is the second 47 Super Johnny had. This photograph was taken in 1958. Also in Hancock, NY almost in the same place. This one was like new! $85
Johnnys 48 Model 71 4Dr Sedan. My 48 Model 76S 2Dr Sedanette was taken in 1976. Johnny painted his car 3 times him self, my 48 was still in the making.
Sweet Anthony ! I remember these cars when I was young and how even in New England those who loved them would keep them in tip top shape and no rust .
Nate
Yeah I use to use Bob’s Automobilia when I had my 48. Good to deal with
Hi Nate, thanks for your message it came through in time, a good reminder. My mechanic is booked to do the job next Wednesday. Cheers, Colin
You’re most welcome Colin ;
the straight edge check is critical as these long log typ manifolds expand and contract quite a bit as the engine goes through it’s thermal cycles .
If there’s more than a .002″ gap anywhere it’s a simple thing to have a machine shop plane it flat again .
If this is necessary be sure they do it with the two manifolds bolted together .
Not many ere days understand the nuts & bolts aspects of inliners and oldies in general .
My only complaint with these fine old boats is : they handle like bathtubs .
-Nate
I like using Remflex gaskets on my Buick straight eight, even with the manifolds milled flat. I know that they didn’t use exhaust gaskets new, but they’re not new anymore, and the Remflex seals better than anything else I’ve tried.
As always, YMMV, but by all means, follow the manual instructions when torquing everything down. First, you tighten the manifold to head, and then you move down to the manifold valve body and torque those bolts in steps. It’s a bit of a job, actually.
As usual Aaron you’re right on top of things .
IHC too tried to gasket less exhaust manifold thing on their light and medium duty trucks, what a stupid idea .
Even the kid who worked pumping gas back then understood the basic concept of thermal cycles that caused the exhaust manifolds to expand and contract at a different rate than the cylinder heads, no way was this _ever_ going to work past warranty period .
IHC wanted you to buy new exhaust manifolds (!$$! GAH) and never had gaskets .
I was working in a huge municipal fleet and we’d get gaskets from the NAPA store, install them for a permanent repair .
-Nate
I’m right with you Nate. Thank you.
I’m lucky enough to have grown up with these fine aspirational cars and like them .
I have more than a few fond memories of them and the folks who were “Buick Men” .
These are now just ‘old cars’ yet for me they project a tremendous presence .
-Nate
Buicks from this era were indeed special, they had their own identity. Independent and quite different from their Cadillac cousins. I’ve had a few Cadillacs from the Fifties and Sixties, but never a full size Buick. Luckily I’ve had several Rivieras, including my current ’97, and they are plenty of Buick for me.
What a car! That profile shot is stunning. I see I waxed poetic about it the first time around, so I won’t embarrass myself again.
I’ll just add an observation that ‘Roadmaster’ may be one of the best model names of its time, evocative of an era when there were true roads to be travelled, not streets and freeways to be sentenced to while being lured by advertising visions of imaginary wilderness trails. 🙂
Hi Nate,
After receiving exhaust gasket manifold parts from Bob’s Automobilia in Calif. the job has now been completed and I am very pleased with the results. The car is so quiet and drives well and seems to have more response and power up hills. I appreciate your advice to keep the manifold bolted smooth and not too tight at the ends. Periodic adjustment and tightening seems critical to avoid constant manifold replacements.
Glad to be of service Sir .
There’s a lot of vintage specific knowledge I have that was once very common .
-Nate
Nice writeup. But I don’t see the postwar years into the early 50’s as a period of conformity in style.
I submit that Harley Earl’s great years as a designer began to fade in the postwar years. While other designers then were pushing the envelope, Earl’s continuation of his three layer ‘wedding cake’ approach to design would end up with GM playing catch up in the latter years of the 50’s.
I read the Three Ps made huge, low revving straight sixes in the teens, but who made the largest straight 8 and when? At some point, I guess it gets too heavy and the crank too long.
Bugatti Royale (1926). 12.8 L , 779 cubic inches.
There were no automotive straight eights before 1920.
Thanks, I forgot about that one. Not exactly a sales success, but a prestige one. I’d guess that Packard made the largest CID mass production and American I8 and Duesenberg the most powerful. Looks like the racing Duesenbergs should have gone with V engines for lower weight and center of gravity.
I remember an early 50s Buick vintage owned by someone not too far from me in the 70s. Like a Subaru flat 4 – I could tell it was the straight 8 Buick traveling in the distance without seeing it. Also the uniqueness of the Dynaflow transmission – rpms stayed about the same as the car increased speed.
Great story about the engines and transmissions of the era. And great stories and photos Anthony J Caiati. Cool you and your brother overhauled the engine and transmission in the ’48 5 years ago.