By now, many of you are undoubtedly familiar with the automotive eccentricities of my dear departed father. Of course, that’s just the automotive ones; as Stephanie will attest, his many eccentricities and personality characteristics are impossible to convey readily with words; you either experienced them, or you didn’t. It was an eye opener for her.
Although he was quite status conscious and always easily impressed with others’ nice automobiles, he denied himself brutally, insisting on wearing his automotive hair shirts proudly. In 1968, he traded in his Opel Kadett A for a new car, for his twice-daily 45 minute commute to Johns Hopkins Hospital, where he was a professor of Neurology and the head of the EEG Clinic. You might think that he might have gotten something with a wee bit of comfort for that drive, which included lots of stop and go traffic and Maryland’s famously sweltering summer heat.
But no.
He bought a baby-shit brown stripper Dodge Dart, with absolutely no options, like this one but certainly without the white wall tires. I’ve written up that mostly dismal chapter here. It had the base 170 cubic inch slant six, three balky gears on the column, slow manual steering, and little 9″ manual drum brakes. And slick black vinyl seats to enhance that summer time experience.
But my father was also surprisingly impulsive at times, and on rare occasions even highly suggestible. In an alternate scenario, what if he had taken up my admonition to buy a Dart GTS? You know, the one that came standard with the highly underrated 275 hp 340? Or the optional Magnum 383?
Nein, Paul. The most horsepower a car should ever have is 250. That’s an absolute limit. Anything more than that is grossly superfluous and possibly dangerous in the wrong hands (mine).
But Papa; that’s only an extra 25 hp. You could just not decide not to open the throttle all the way. I have a better idea! I can attach a little (easily removable) piece of wood on the back of the gas pedal so that you’ll never be able to worry about accidentally having all that power on your hands. And the GTS comes standard with a Rally suspension which will make it handle so much better. It’s time for you to have something a bit classier. A GTS!
Hmm.
This 1969 version will have to stand in for what my father proudly came home with in that alternate scenario:
Paul, I took your advice and got a Dart GT!
A GT? But that’s missing the key ingredient, the “S”. And what engine?
Oh, not the standard engine, the 170 cubic inch six, Paul. They said I’d have to order one, that no dealer would have one in stock. So I got one with the optional Charger 225 cubic inch six. Very nice power. And an automatic transmission. And even power steering. You’re right, I need to be able to enjoy my drive to Hopkins more.
Does that mean you got air conditioning?
No, Paul. You know how much I hate cool drafts. I’m quite comfortable in the summer without it; I just take off my jacket and one of my two sweaters. But I did get a radio!
FM?
No; AM.
But the underground, I mean classical music station is on FM.
That’s true. But I like to listen to news and talk radio in the car, and now I don’t have to take my little portable radio in the car anymore.
And it came with bucket seats, Paul! Very European! A real Gran Turismo!
Yes, a real Gran Turismo. Such is the power of names. And imagination.
The Dart GT goes right back to its first year as a compact, 1963. And the deception was there right from the get-go: “America’s First Sports Compact”. Obviously it wasn’t; this bucket seat pretender like all the others of its ilk were of course trying to keep up with that runaway success, the Corvair Monza. And a ’59 Studebaker Lark V8 was certainly a legitimate sports compact, even without the buckets.
But the Dart GT does have the distinction of being the first American car to use the “GT” acronym, if we agree that Studebaker used the full name “Gran Turismo”, but not the letters “GT”, especially as a suffix to a line of cars. Or have I forgotten someone?
The raised expectations of its standard 170 inch six are a reflection of the GT’s role as a trim package with bucket seats, and no more. And what was the case in 1963 was still very much the case in 1969: the 170 inch six was still standard. The GTS and the Swinger 340 were the hot stuff. Why there were two hot Darts is a good question; the same reason there was a Dodge RT and Super Bee, obviously. But still not very logical.
In perusing the 1969 Dart brochure, I came across an unexpected tidbit: an optional fast 16:1 ratio manual steering gear. Whoa! Now that would have really helped my dad’s real Dart, whose slow manual steering could be a handful in the fast tight twisties of Northern Baltimore County’s back roads. That and a four speed stick shift would have turned it into a…real GT!
Back to the real world: this lovely Dart GT has graced a nearby street for several years now. I don’t know what’s under its hood, but I suspect quite likely it’s either the 273 or 318 versions of the LA V8. But of course it might also be the 225 slant six. It still has a very stock-looking single exhaust, so it’s not easy to tell from the outside.
The 14″ styled steel wheels are of course not original, but sure suit it well.
The Dart and the ChevyII/Nova were the two best selling compacts at the time, selling around 200k each. Of course that would all change drastically when the Maverick arrived in 1970, but that was really more of a semi-sub-compact. The Dart and Nova both offered a combination of value, economy and style that resonated with a certain segment of the market at the time, and the Dart would carry that through right to the end of its run. It was already looking a bit old-school by 1969, but that would become one of its most endearing features.
And there’s no question that buyers like my father accounted for an increasing share of those sales, even if most of them didn’t go for the full hair-shirt version.
In fact, 1969 would be the end of the road for the GT; from here on out it was just plain Dart sedans and Swinger coupes. Although it’s a bit of a stretch to imagine my father in a Dart GT, it’s even beyond my supple imagination to see him drive a Swinger.
On second thought…
Yes, Paul… probably for most of us, thinking of our fathers as swingers would be a strain on our credulity.
Oh, you meant the CAR!
I heard somewhere that the squared off ends of the grill on the ’67-’69 models were to accommodate “Euro style” Cibie headlights. But they were never approved.
One might have thought that Mannix’s mildly customized Dart would have had the Cibie lights. After all, I think his first car, that much more modified Toronado convertible, had Cibies.
A lot of concepts of the era had them, so whether it was a realistic push to have them or not there seemed to be a desire by designers to have them. The swinger concept is a good glimpse of what could have been.
That’s a fun story, but there’s no substance to it (i.e., it’s not true). For one thing, why stop at ’67? Look at the squared-off ends of the ’66 Dart grille.
Chrysler did put together a proposal to overhaul and upgrade US headlamp standards, but it wasn’t even submitted for Federal consideration until sometime in 1969, multiple years after the 1969 Dart was designed—let alone the 1967 model. For that matter, there was no Federal agency to petition for different standards until 1968; the standardisation on round sealed beams had been an enormously difficult, intricate matter of herding cats from every state, and it took huge amounts of effort and lobbying and resources to get all states on side with the quad-lamp system for ’58. That was a relatively minor change (four smaller lamps instead of two larger ones); there would have been utterly zero chance of the radical departure oblong replaceable-bulb lamps would have represented.
And Chrysler’s 1969 effort went nowhere.
(The ’66 Dart did get big oblong replaceable-bulb headlamps…in Spain.)
Daniel, what are your thoughts on this? I read this article a few years back as it pertained to the greater topic of the odd shuffling of stacked headlights in Fords and Mercurys in 1965, and there’s a mention that Ford had desire to use rectangulars in some capacity as early as 1965, but failed to do so legally. The one year only 65 Fairlane front end looks like it could have housed a pair of rectangles in an alternate reality.
Note how the vague claim “Ford had been working on adapting European-style rectangular headlamps to the ’65 Ford, but the company was having trouble getting them legalized” is the only part of the whole two-column story that the author didn’t go trying to verify.
Even if they tried, they wouldn’t’ve been able to verify it, because it’s a fairytale. There was no such legalization effort for Ford to be having difficulty with. Most likely someone in the chain of this story’s creation and publication overinflated a recollection about a stylist playing with European lights on concept cars.
In other words: {{dubious—citation needed}}.
More specifically, I think someone overinflated a recollection of show cars like the ’61 Mercury Palomar.
Nice double contraction!
Love that statement in the last ad – “If you won’t take small for an answer. . .”
Double entendres were the admens’ stock in trade in the late 60’s and early 70’s.
I love, love, love the Dart hardtops and convertibles of 1967-69. The 1970 versions sold for so many more years and were so common, but the original had details that were really right for the car. And though I could make a case for the Barracuda fastback over one of these, these had it going all day long over the Barracuda hardtop and convertible.
Really, a plain old 318 would have given you plenty of scoot in one of these. You could have snuck a 4 bbl carb onto it and if he noticed, explained to him that he must have gotten some bad gas for those first few tanks. 🙂
Oh, and that back seat shot reminds me of the thing Chrysler had going for a few years with that unusual style of seam in the seats. Did those remind anyone else of an open wound?
I was always amused at the use of the Swinger badge on a car that was indicative of the owner being conservative and uninteresting as hell, but still had the redeeming quality that at least he wasn’t buying an American Motors product. Yes, that’s how we saw a Dart Swinger owner fifty years ago. Someone who’d actually watch the uptempo numbers on The Lawrence Welk Show.
I’d forgotten you could get a 340 and up engines in these cars. Invariably, on the streets of Erie, PA, you saved that drivetrain for a Duster or a Demon.
The 340 arrived for the 1968 model year, two before the Duster was introduced. They were very effective in Darts and A-body Barracudas, but then the Barracuda grew into the heavy E-body of 1970. The 1970 340 ‘Cuda was no longer scaring all the Chevelles and GTOs, so the new Duster 340 took over as the ultimate in cheap speed. There was a Swinger 340 in 1970 as well, which took over from the Dart GT as the Dodge performance A-body until the Demon 340 showed up for 1971.
Indeed, the smart money went with a Mopar 340. For once, Chrysler got the timing right as their high-revving small-block debuted towards the end of the musclecar era as big-block engines began to fall out of favor. The only issue might have been that in order to get a 340 in a ’68-’69 Dart or Barracuda, you might have had to move up to a pricier model.
There was no such problem with the Duster 340. There are some who consider it ‘son of Road Runner’. That’s not too bad of a comparison. By 1970, the Road Runner, while still relatively cheap, was also being decontented. For one thing, the base transmission changed to a 3-speed. The Duster 340 was hundreds less than even the strippo Road Runner and performed just as well (if not better) than a 383 Road Runner. Yeah, you gave up some interior room, but who cared when you were outrunning the competition. Chrysler realized their pricing error soon enough and began jacking up the price annually. But, even then, throughout the 340-360 A-body era, it was always the best bang-for-the-buck.
The Swinger 340 actually came out in 1969, the lineup consolidated in 1970 dropping the GTS
That’s true, but the problem with the Dodge performance A-bodies was price; there wasn’t near the price gap between a Dart Swinger 340 or GTS and Super Bee as there was between the Duster 340 and Road Runner.
With that said, the hot Darts did come with more equipment than the Duster so you did get something for your extra cash. The Dodges had a real hardtop body with roll-down quarter windows, a full set of gauges (borrowed from the Barracuda), standard front disc brakes, and (I think) a no-cost choice between a four-speed or TorqueFlite. Although the Duster 340 did get the A-body Barracuda’s instrument cluster for the first two years.
From 1972-on, all A-bodies got the same instrument panel, regardless of engine.
There should have been a special place in…well, you know where, for folks at car companies who gave the public those ” half hearted ” GTs. At the very least, if you are calling something a GT, give it something besides the ” base ” engine.
That said, I remember the first time that I saw one of these 69 Darts, it was a dark green GTS convertible with a 340. It was one of the few compact ” sedans ” that I felt could give a pony car, similarly equipped, a difficult time in pretty much every department.
BTW, Car&Driver has a ” special ” 69 Dart GTS on loan from Chrysler that had been fitted with a 440 big block. The car was stolen and then the thieves had the audacity to race it on public dragstrips (and probably a few other places) with a hood from a lower powered Dart. It took a while but police eventually caught up with the thieves.
This is why I like cars that don’t have option lists beyond manual or automatic transmission. You could have any GT you like, eliminating all meaning from the GT label. If the reason was racing, then bundle the deletes with the hottest engine or engines that were suitable for racing. A Dart with no power steering, no air conditioning, no carpet, and a slant-six was an economy car, not a grand touring car.
Did Dodge discontinue the 2-door sedan for 1969? I notice there isn’t a picture of one in the brochure shot.
I’m also a little surprised to note that the Dart (not the Valiant) took top compact sales honors along with the Nova for 1969. Maybe Ford didn’t make the cut due to it being a transition year with the Falcon winding down and the Maverick beginning production. I wonder if combining the two would have edged Ford compact sales numbers ahead of the Dart. But, then, if different models from the same manufacturer were being used, you’d have to add the Valiant to the Dart numbers, which might still take the Mopar A-bodies past the Fords.
The sporty Dart models actually did quite well, being Dodge’s de facto ponycar until the 1970 E-body Challenger arrived. I wonder how many old A-body Barracuda sales got cannibalized by stuff like the Dart convertibles, Swinger, and GT models (the Valiant hardtop and convertible had been discontinued in 1967 with the arrival of the new Barracuda).
I think Ford counted the Maverick as a 1970 model and not a 1969½ model.
Note then Plymouth also changed the game when the Duster arrived.
Remember that the Dart had double the body styles of the Valiant from 67-69, offering the hardtop and convertible where the Valiant had only 2 and 4 door sedans. I wonder if the numbers would have flipped if the Barracuda had been added to the Valiant numbers, because it was really a Valiant (though a more heavily disguised one). 1967-69 was one of the few periods where there were genuine differences in the model lineups between Plymouth and Dodge.
Yeah, I considered the A-body Barracuda conundrum, but if you added in those sales numbers, I suppose you’d have to do the same with the Mustang/Falcon, and Camaro/Nova, and that certainly wouldn’t fly.
It’s a tough call because the later, ’67-’69 Valiant/Barracuda connection ‘seems’ like it’s a whole lot closer than the Ford or Chevy.
Apples to Apples comparisons of Plymouth and Dodge lines from this time are hard. Plymouth had a stripped down Valiant line, a Barracuda with the cool bodies and a bunch of variations on the Satellite. Dodge got a full lineup in the Dart and the Charger on top of all of the Coronets. Do we count the Charger when looking at Coronets? Do we count the Barracuda when comparing A bodies? There are lots of asterisks involved however we do the counting.
Until they consolidated in 1974, this last generation of A Bodies had different wheelbases – extended at the rear on the Dodge, and different sheetmetal and roof lines on the sedans. The hardtops were shared when Plymouth got the Scamp in return for Dodge getting the Demon/Dart Sport.
I really like these cars, especially the first gen. Not as sophisticated, luxurious, or carefully built as my old W109s, but not that different in overall form.
Paul, you would have been much happier if your father was like my Polish father who, for his very first car, purchased a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda hardtop w/a 318 V8 & PS. It wasn’t a Dart GT, but it wasn’t a stripper model either. However, I don’t know how you’d feel if your father then got a 1973 T-Bird.
“Professor of Neurology and head of the EEG clinic at John Hopkins.” Not a man of modest accomplishment. I would be much more impressed with that then whatever vehicle he chose. Although some of the good doctor’s neurosis have been mentioned previously, I wonder whether some of his purchasing decisions were the result of childhood deprivation during the war.
He wasn’t a child during the war; he fought in it. The eastern front in Russia, then back to med school for a while, and then the Western front, where he was captured near Normandy. Was sent to the US as a POW. He liked it there, which colored his decision when he was recruited to Iowa in 1960.
The fact he survived is worthy of great respect. Very few Wehrmacht troops who spent any length of time on the Eastern Front survived. He was also very fortunate to have been captured by the US army.
On the Eastern Front, the Wehrmacht lost 50,000 a month killed-and that was when they were not in battle. At least 5,500,000 German soldiers died in the East.
Only 5,000 of the 100,000 german soldiers captured at Stalingrad returned home after they were repatriated by the USSR.
Having twice read Guy Sajer’s “The Forgotten Soldier.” I am even more impressed by your father. Truly an incredible story and worthy of a biography that I would hasten to read.
Unfortunately, he didn’t honor our many requests to write at least an outline of an autobiography. And he didn’t like to talk much about the specifics of the war much, at least after a certain point. I remember him talking about it quite a bit when I was very young, but then the stories suddenly stopped. I assume he had finished processing it, and was ready to move on.
He was a medic, and his job was to sweep the areas where fallen soldiers might likely be after the fighting. He rode (but not drove) in a half track to do that. I do remember him saying that there was a specific point during the retreat from the Eastern front that he was pretty sure he was the easternmost German not in captivity. He had a superb command of geography, so I believe him.
I have clearer memories of his experiences in the US as a POW, as he seemed more willing to talk about them, especially after we moved to the Midwest, and visited some of the sites he was at. More details of that here:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1990-pontiac-lemans-the-lows-and-rocky-mountain-highs-of-gms-deadly-sin-12/
Here’s his obituary:
https://www.baltimoresun.com/obituaries/bs-md-ob-ernst-niedermeyer-20120411-story.html
Reading your father’s obituary confirmed that I would like to read a lot more about him. His extraordinary accomplishments in so many areas are a challenge to find anyone to compare him to. I believe that there are a lot of other Americans and Germans who would find his life story fascinating as well. There are a lot of records available, university, Wehrmacht and the recollections of many people to compile a biography that would be very compelling to read in a time like this.
Your father’s knowledge of geography probably saved him. After the autumn of 1943 the German army was advancing to the rear in such a panic that many the soldier was lost in places like the Carpathian mountains.
He was quite fortunate to have been sent to France, which made for a happy ending of the story.
Dr Neidermeyer was an amazing man, what a list of achievements!
That is too bad. I can see why on the one hand but still can present a counter point of view. We know, from military history, how a battalion or regiment performed but not about smaller units like a platoon or individual soldier. The individual is where the real history is and yet that is precisely the history that gets lost.
Several years ago I met Lawson Sakai who served in the 442nd. Took part in the rescue of the Lost Battalion and was wounded four times. Coming home was easy but dealing with what they went through was not. Most all his fellow soldiers ended up on alcohol including him. In the end he conquered it and became a successful business man. Unlike his brothers he always gave speeches about what the 442nd went through. Their history was too important to let it fade away.
he said. Sadly he past away in June, at 97, after I last saw him in October 2019.
Using what he said I persuaded my father, US 8th Army South Pacific, to be interviewed about his service. I knew all the pleasant stories and that was it. The interviewer was able to talk with my father and get him to relate what else he went through and it is now recorded for history. I know your father had powerful experiences that should have gone down in an interview like my father so they wouldn’t be lost to time.
Agreed. It had been loosely talked about for some years, and my mom encouraged him to do it, but he just didn’t want to. And I have to respect that.
It wasn’t just the war history either, but also a lot of interesting family history. Now it’s slipping away in the mists of our feeble memories.
Your Dad and mine had the same taste in cars – ie., no options. From the dog dish hubcaps to the three on the tree, no radio, no power anything, that’s how he liked them. He said those options was more stuff to break.
Buying our 1974 Dart Sport, my Mother and I ganged up on him for a few options. AM radio, Power Steering, and even a vinyl roof for some unknown reason. Oh yes and wheel covers.
“But the underground, I mean classical music station is on FM.”
Oh Paul….wasn’t WPGC or WEAM enough? Who would want to hear Hendrix when you could have The Archies every 35 minutes in glorious mono with reverb?!?
On a serious note, if there ever was a classic Mopar I would love to own, it would be an A body two door. Duster preferably with a 318 and A/C, but this would do in a pinch. Love the styling and the baked in goodness of the platform.
I don’t remember those call letters. I listened mostly to soul music until about 1968, and then transitioned to albums and the first underground FM station, which for a while played Inagodadavida every night at 9 pm. For weeks, maybe months.
I avoided top 40 like the plague, but remember having no choice but to listen to the AM radio at the gas station I worked at in ’67-’68: “Crystal Blue Persuasion” is what comes to mind, over and over, over and over…
and I saw Iron Butterfly play that at a high school dance in the San Fernando Valley back in 1968. A private Catholic high school no less and me a freshman who didn’t know much about music beyond the Beatles at the time. When that song was played all I could think was WTH is this. Needless to say I had their album and then several more only a few months later for my first albums.
Oh god yes, Crystal Blue Persuasion along with Venus by Shocking Blue.
Did you listen to WWIN 1400 by any chance? That is the only soul music station I know of that would have been on back in the 60’s in Baltimore.
I would have gone mishegas from hearing The Shondells every few songs as well…I’ll play Archie Bell & The Drells to cleanse the palate shortly.
Of course! Fat Daddy was the top DJ there. He got in big trouble once for saying “I cream in my jeans when I hear the Supremes”. He got thrown off the air for a while.
And there were two other soul stations at the time too, one was oriented to “the blue eyed soul brothers”; and played mostly the big Motown hits and stuff. KDIX?
And there was another one, a smaller one. WSID. Or maybe it was the other way around?
WWIN used to broadcast live from clubs late at night; I’d listen to that when I was up late.
I came into listening to music on the radio too late, but I listened to Beaker Street at night in the late 70s and early 80s. Clive Clifford would play music from that time – but not much of the Top 40 stuff. This is a sample of what he’d play
Like my Dad in a few ways. As Depression era baby, he denied himself many luxuries. No power steering for the first 25 years of driving and it took almost 40 to see a/c and an FM radio. Power windows? Please…
Central a/c at home? A dream from 1956 to 1992. I had it installed while working for Carrier .
your hand surgeon Adrian Flatt had a Dodge Diplomat Wagon and Dodge Omni when he moved from IA to CT – he drove the Omni and his then wife Carol drove the wagon – late 70’s early 80’s
that’s when everyone else on the street had German luxury whatever
I think some people don’t need to be showy, because they are secure
btw, when Flatt moved to TX he sold his house to to Mike Maples – who soon became Pres of Microsoft
Out of the 24:1 frying pan, into the 16:1 fire. That 16:1 nonpower steering box might be a fine pick for a narrow list of certain kinds of driving (or racing), but it efficiently saps all the joy and fun out of driving the car under a much wider range of driving situations—like driving around town, or parking the car without sweating and cursing yourself and the car. Highway driving is a white-knuckle experience and your shoulders will soon ache of the tension caused by trying to keep a straight line on the highway, because the car’s all twitchy; if you dial in any positive caster for self-centring action the car will be an even worse bear at low speeds.
And that’s how it was in a lightweight earlier-’60s A-body with a lightweight aluminum 225 engine. Worse in a heavier ’69 car with heavier iron engine.
I wonder if that could have been the steering box in the stripper 74 Charger my friend’s father found used. That was one of the nastiest manual steering cars of all time, though it does now occur to me that the ratio was not the typical super-slow one found in manual steering cars.
The 16:1 box was discontinued long before that ’74 was built—but those cars did have a different quick steering ratio option consisting of shorter pitman and idler arms.
I can’t imagine they built a lot of cars with that fast box. I’m a bit surprised they even offered it. Maybe for the NASCAR compact class?
The NASCAR compact class race was ’60-’61 only, and the ’60-’61 Valiants had only one nonpower box available: a 20:1 Saginaw item. The 16:1 box was offered ’65-’69 only, and yeah, it was considered a race piece. I don’t care to imagine what it was like to drive a ’69 383 or 440 Dart or Baccaruda with that box!
The 16:1 was offered on the sportier Val Chargers into the mid-’70’s, 3,000lb+ cars with all-iron 4.3 straight sixes over the front axle, and it drew no comment other than what an improvement it was on the standard wheel-twirler. The standard steering was indeed horrid, though light at all times, so much so that dropping a turn and a half off it should likely have left it quite reasonable.
That said, the biggest engine we got was the weighty 360, and all these had p.s
My socially conservative Italian immigrant father in law drove a 72 Dart Swinger. Given English was his 4th language he had no idea what a swinger was. He’d be deeply embarrassed if he ever knew.
Chrysler weren’t the only ones putting the Swinger name on consumer products at that time:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7k2uwJmwxo
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9lvcFlUBxM
(“What’s your beef? It’s called that because it’s got a convenient handle you can swing it up with. Surely you’re not suggesting…! Why, you filthy, filthy man!”)
I remember those Polaroid Swinger ads when they were first broadcast. I still know the tune AND the lyrics today.
My Uncle Ed had a ’69 Dart GT in a beautiful burgundy color, always garaged, up until about 2000 or so. I kept telling him that I’d buy it from him, and to let me know if he was ever considering it. He insisted it wasn’t worth anything, as it had the “wrong engine”—looking at the option list Paul included, I wonder if he got it with the 170 Slant Six. Either way, he sold it without telling me, probably for pennies.
He did the same thing with my deceased Grandmother’s pristine ’66 Oldsmobile Delta 88—sold it to the kid at the mechanic shop, who promptly pulled the engine, to throw it in something smaller, and wrapped that car around a tree.
I’m still mad at Uncle Ed.
Gaah! Why do they do that?! With me it wasn’t a particular car, but a particular camera. The rest of the story is more or less the same: I cared, he didn’t particularly care, and he evidently didn’t care that I cared.
Now my mother, on the other hand (minor chord here and bless her pea-pickin’ heart) after dad died, literally dangled the keys to his ’62 Dodge in front of my nose—the car I’d found for him, the car I’d taught him to change spark plugs in, the car he and I had done road trips in, the car I took my driving licence test in—and said “Everything belongs to me. I decide if you get the car or if I have it crushed”.
And what did she decide?
Her mood and mouth swang around all over the place, as it does, but eventually I wound up with the car.
Some people refuse to do so in case things go sour. I had a boss with a mint Prelude SH with practically zero miles he loved and knew I’d be first with cash if he sold it, like on the spot. When I found out he private partied the sale days later, he told me flat out “the engine light came on, and I wasn’t going to sell you something I wasn’t comfortable with anymore myself”.
I can appreciate that mentality under that context.
My cousin had a ’70 Road Runner that I wanted to buy from him when he went into the Navy in ’73. Hardly any miles on it, and his dad and he kept their cars looking showroom new until they got new ones. He agreed to sell it to me when it was getting close to the time for him to go. Well, he forgot about promising me the car and sold it without me knowing about it, to a kid I went to high school with! One day I was at a friend’s house, and here comes the RR, all shined up, black inside and out. I was beyond pissed. He got it really cheap, too. I have given my cousin crap about selling “my car” ever since.
The first car that I remember my dad drivin was a 1968 Dart. I don’t know which engine beyond it being a straight six, but I would guess it was the 170. I do remember him saying that he added power steering himself.
However he redeemed himself later on, first with a 1985 Turbo T-bird, and then a 1987 Turbo T-bird. I guess the addition of the intercooler and even more streamlined styling was too much to pass up once the ’87’s came out. I will say; the ’87 in particular was pretty cool on the occasion I was able to get my high school aged hands on it.
My maternal grandfather was born and raised in Siberia and then lived in the Russian community in China before coming to the US in the thirties. His last car was a /6 Swinger, and that’s what he and his wife called it; never a Dart. We lived on opposite sides of the country and I didn’t really know him until he was a Swinger driver; it surprised the heck out of me as he drove Citroën’s in China and I think my mom told me he had a Packard at some point here in the US. But at least the Swinger had A/C, as he lived in suburban DC and I only visited in summers.
My mother owned a 1969 Dart GT, red with white roof and vinyl buckets. She bought it used in 1972, and it came with 225 slant six, Torqueflite, power steering, and AM radio. Was a nice handling car with lots of room (for a compact) and was easy to park.
It was a bit bigger than her 1964 Envoy Epic that she had before the Dart but at least other drivers could now see her car. She had three accidents in 1972 with the Epic. None were her fault and Dad figured the Epic was just too small for traffic. Other drivers couldn’t see her.
By the way, if you want to know if a 1969 Dart hardtop is a Swinger, Swinger 340, Custom, GT or GTS, check the VIN. It is attached to the instrument panel on the driver’s side and can be viewed through the windshield. The first digit is the Car Line, “L”.
Second digit is the Series –
L – Swinger
M – Swinger 340
H – Custom
P – GT
S – GTS
The engine is the 5th digit –
A – 170-cid six
B – 225-cid six
D – 273-cid V8, 2-bbl
F – 318-cid V8, 2-bbl
H – 383-Cid V8, 4-bbl (GTS only)
P – 340-cid V8, 4-bbl (Swinger 340 & GTS only)
I had a 1973 Swinger GT for a while, with 225 Slant Six and Torqueflite, no ps or pb. The owner trade it on a a 1977 Cougar XR-7 and I promptly took it over for myself. Basically, the car was new. Every ball joint, shocks, brakes, the whole lot was done. I got it for $900 when I factored in the price of the Cougar and what I had in it.
It was still one of my all time favourites. The previous owner put the 2 bbl Super Six carb on it and it zipped around really well. The steering was really low geared so every ninety degree corner took like two full revolutions of the wheel.
If anyone has bothered to read any of my long ago COAL pieces, I cannot keep a good car for long. In this case, I was chasing a girl who wanted a car. I sold her the Dart for $1200. Then some idiot told her that I had ripped her off and she never spoke to me again. The Dart needed absolutely nothing when I sold it to her and it ended up rotting in an underground garage. Turns out, the girl had some serious mental problems.
Are ya sure? Because Dart GTs were last offered in 1971 (and they made only very few of them in ’70, and even fewer—just over 1,200—in 1971.
And even during the years when both GTs and Swingers were offered, 1968-1971, any given car was either a GT or a Swinger; there was no GT Swinger or Swinger GT.
I learned to drive in ’72 and ’73 Swingers, and for the life of me I don’t understand how anyone would buy one with less than the 318 in it. All the ones the driving school had were 318’s, except for one, and the owner/instructor avoided it like the plague, so I only drove it once. He said he bought six cars at once from the local dealer and one of the six blew as it was being prepped for delivery, and the only black one they had was with the 225 in it. He took it, but said, “Never again!”. I can’t even imagine how bad the smaller engine would have been.