In 1759, Francois-Marie Arouet, otherwise known as Voltaire, wrote Candide, my favorite book. Ironically subtitled “Optimism,” Candide chronicles its eponymous character’s hapless adventures as he crosses the globe in search of a woman he doesn’t really want. One of those adventures finds him and his resourceful sidekick Cacambo in Eldorado, where they encounter gold and jewels that the town’s citizens find as meaningless as stones, but which Candide covets. During the summer of 2019, on adventures far and near, I found several Eldorados in this best of all possible worlds, and I coveted them all.
Eldorado #1 was parked at a nearby state park in June. It’s a 1970 “Aaron Special,” which is a reference I use when a car is not only something I’d buy, but is also in a condition in which I’d buy it: nice but with the perfect knocked off. It likely spent many a stationary hour in an old garage before someone decided that it had sat long enough.
John Gardner, the author of Grendel, famously claimed that “there are only two plots in literature: a person goes on a journey, a stranger comes to town.” A Louisiana state inspection sticker from 2000 signifies that the Eldorado is the latter, in addition to offering some hope that the Eldorado isn’t a pit of Bondo-laden despair. The two pictures above were taken on two successive weekends, leading me to perhaps fallaciously assume that those who like neat cars also like state parks. I offer the picture of the Cadillac and my ’74 Firebird as a counterpoint to those who feel that cars of the 1970s offer no redeeming qualities.
The “Summer of Eldorado” also reminded me how to differentiate between a ’69 and a ’70 Eldorado: look at the grille trim. On a ’70, there is a bright strip surrounding the grille that is lacking on the otherwise similar ’69. In 1970, General Motors redesigned the Eldorado’s platform mates, the Riviera and the Toronado, and the results were, to me, like the wistful Candide’s love interest, Cunegonde. In other words, time did their appearance no favors. On the other hand, the nearly unchanged Eldorado is just as attractive as its predecessor.
In Candide, the main characters manage to lose and find each other over and over as fate (or free will?) carries them from shore to shore. Although I haven’t seen this Eldorado since June, I maintain hope that our paths will cross again.
In the meantime, my wife and I found Eldorado #2, also a 1970 model, in a place that was not as close to home as the first.
In August, we were hundreds of miles away in Marquette, Michigan, the largest town in the Upper Peninsula and home to Northern Michigan University. It’s a city in the heart of the UP’s Iron Range, and we spent an hour or two at Presque Isle Park, walking out on the breakwall and watching an ore freighter, the Lee A. Tregurtha, capture its load of taconite pellets. It’s intriguing to consider that perhaps our featured Eldorados were born from Upper Peninsula iron.
Eldorado #2, parked on the side of the road just minutes from where the Tregurtha ingested her cargo, was for sale. Although it looks hale enough in pictures, its 3300 dollar asking price was indicative of its general earthiness, although I’m certain someone could make a perfectly serviceable driver out of it.
To say the Eldorado radiated patriotism is an understatement, such as when Candide said that the city of Eldorado was “better than Westphalia,” the town from which he was expelled by way of a swift kick in the pants. The Cadillac was festooned with patriotic stickers and these peculiar eagle’s head lock covers, as if an Eldorado didn’t already scream like a bald eagle. This flag-waving beast wasn’t, however, the only Eldorado in Marquette that day.
Being a toy, a ’67 model, and something I actually bought rather than drooled on, Eldorado #3 works best as a sidebar. Minutes after discovering the white ’70 on the side of the road in Marquette, I found this Auto World toy, in its appropriate golden hue, on the pegs at Walmart. Yes, I shop for toys on vacation. Judge me as you will.
A month later in September, back at home, we found Eldorado #4 less than a mile from our house. Notice the lack of a bright grille surround, the easiest way to identify it as a ’69. In sinister black with a black vinyl top, this is my favorite of the bunch, except for some troubling signs that this car may be a Michigan native.
See the bubbles underneath the edge of the vinyl top? If this car were for sale and I were a truly interested party, that would be enough reason to suspect the whole car, even though I’d have no problem cutting and welding a patch into that flat expanse of c-pillar. If Candide has taught me anything, it’s to take trouble as it comes and try to maintain one’s equanimity.
Therefore, it’s important to remember that anything man built can be repaired, providing one is prepared to bear some buffets and blows along the way. In fact, I prefer to think of my hobby as the best way to make sense of life, a way to simply stay busy, or as Candide might say, a way to “cultivate our garden.”
And on that note of subdued optimism, our summer of Eldorado ended. Although our journeys did not take us to the faraway lands of South America or offer us a horde of gold and jewels, they offered us plenty of evening adventures and atmospheric pictures of beautiful machinery. And even though I have no current plans to buy an Eldorado of my own, mostly because it wouldn’t fit in my garage with the rest of the collection, I must maintain the disciplined, dispassionate philosophy of a man who casually endures life’s minor disappointments.
Therefore, I’ll let Voltaire wrap this up for me, as Candide discusses his fate, one he finally must accept with composure, with the foolish philosopher Pangloss:
Pangloss sometimes said to Candide:
“There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cunegonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbed the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts.”
“All that is very well,” answered Candide, “but let us cultivate our garden.”
It is incredible what a difference a trim piece can do for me. That 1969 looks perfect because without that chrome grille surround, the front end looks like it is all business, moving forward. In 1970, the same front end makes the car look stopped.
I definitely like the 1969 over the 1970 – due to that simple difference.
Amazing.
Agree. But either way it looks like there’s a V16 at least under that hood.
It’s more than just the grille surround. The ’69 grille has a mesh look, while the ’70 has prominent horizontal trim.
Regardless, it’d be a tough call for a top-tier personal luxury car in ’69-’70 between the Eldorado and new Continental MkIII, probably coming down to brand loyalty. The other divisions’ PLCs (Toronado, Riviera, Grand Prix, and Monte Carlo) were no slouchs, either. Even Chrysler had game with the new fuselage 300 and New Yorker convertibles.
I believe I would have chosen a ’70 Imperial over the Lincoln or Eldorado. In black, of course.
There was no 1969-70 fuselage New Yorker convertible, just the 300 and Newport. Judging from oldcarbrochures.com, the last year for a New Yorker convertible was 1961.
Having been raised with a 1970 New Yorker, I have to tell you that it is definitely not a Lincoln or a Cadillac. Even Oldsmobile and Buick had nicer interiors that either the NYorker or the Imperial. That isn’t counting the problems we encountered with quality problems. I find it hard to believe that the Imperial would be the better car, or even an appropriate comparison.
The Imperial was not as luxurious as the best GM or Ford cars in that field.
I have always loved the 69 Eldorado. I believe it marks the high water mark of “The American Car”. Yes, there are many fine later vehicles, but all of them have been somehow constrained by circumstances – regulations, fuel prices, inflation-driven cost constraints -always something.
The Eldorado makes no such compromises. A 18-foot long (5.6 meter) 2+2 coupe with a 472 cubic inch engine (7.7 liters) purely designed for beauty, comfort, and effortless highway cruising.
The American Dream hit a high water mark with this car, while men walked on the moon and anything was possible.
Yes, yes, I know…..
All that is very well,” answered Candide, “but let us cultivate our garden.”
> The Eldorado makes no such compromises. A 18-foot long (5.6 meter) 2+2 coupe with a 472 cubic inch engine (7.7 liters) purely designed for beauty, comfort, and effortless highway cruising.
Also, it had front wheel drive. Just, because. This car hardly took advantage of the potential space efficiency or fuel economy benefits of that layout, but it could be done, so it was.
A more significant difference were their engines. The ’69 having a 472 CID with 375 HP. While the ’70 saw the premier of the 500 CID with 400 HP.
Of course the ’70 was the one and only year to see this much power since emissions would throttle it each succeeding year thereafter…
It would be interesting to see a ’70 Eldorado on a chassis dyno. I think these were rated at 400 hp and something like 550 lb-ft. of torque. These were pretty mild engines; I just can’t believe they were putting out 40 more horsepower than a Stage 1 Buick.
I question those gross horsepower ratings on those big Caddy 500s. They were torquey mildly tuned engines, but were hardly barn stormers. Contemporary tests of the time show quarter mile times in the mid 16s. Pretty good for a big tank, but really not significantly faster than the 365 hp Mark III.
The Mark III had dual exhausts I think, while I am quite sure that the Eldorado had a single exhaust. The 1967 Eldorado Motor Trend test compares almost exactly with their 1970 test for zero to thirty and zero to sixty times. The quarter mile was about 0.5 seconds faster with the 500 engine.
I think the 8.2 liter engine was less about performance and more about publicity than anything.
Correct you are regarding the single exhaust. I don’t think any Caddy’s from 1961 to the late 1990’s had duals, something I always found puzzling. I know most Caddy owners could care less, but you would think the Standard of the World would feature them as they would have allowed those huge engines some more breathing room.
Horsepower numbers prior to 1971 were not based on any kind of reality and were largely thought up by advertising agencies.
On Old Car Brochures, the 1971 GM cars feature both gross and net ratings. A 350 2 bbl is rated at 250 hp gross and, get this, 165 net.
I have driven lots of Cadillacs of this era. The best one I ever drove was a 1963 Sedan DeVille, with the 390 and Hydramatic. It felt like a sporty car. The later 60’s cars got huge and even with their billion horsepower 90 litre V-20 they weren’t what anyone would call fast.
I regularly drive a 1979 DeVille with the 425 V-8. It feels way faster than a 1970 with 400 hp.
Perfect car for such literary references. In so many ways this generation of Eldorado was almost other-worldly. And finding one in Michigan’s U.P. is rather extraordinary.
There’s one thing that’s kept me from being a big fan of these Eldorados, and that’s the unusually small rear quarter window. It never looked right to me — it’s the only undersized item on the car, and to me it just begs to be different. Bigger, maybe, or possibly the design would look more complete without a window there at all. I don’t know why, but it’s always bothered me.
I’ll add to your Eldorado pictures here — just a few weeks ago I came across this ’67. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to write it up sometime soon.
Eric, I was also going to comment on the rear quarter window, but for an entirely different reason.
The first time I rode in one of these, I was completely awestruck how the quarter window slid *back* into the C-pillar, rather than *down* into the fender. Powered, of course.
It’s a silly little thing, and I sense there really wasn’t any practical reason. It just seems like the sort of thing GM engineers would do because they *could*.
Those were the days when Cadillac still had an unmistakable presence and projected the image of not sharing much at all with lesser GM cars.
A friends father had one and it was a pig to drive. Beautiful to see but disappointing behind the wheel.
I sure enjoy being in the online presence of someone so literate and learned. Thanks for the writeup.
Thank you for the compliment!
Lovely. In truth, I had never contemplated the differences between the 69 and the 70 models before. The “walling off” of the grille on the 70 might mark (sorry) the beginning of Cadillac reacting to Lincoln in vehicle styling. The Mark III definitely put an end to the popularity of the full-width grille on American luxury cars.
Eldorado No. 1 looks to be the exact color of my own Eldorado No. 1, which was built by Hot Wheels as part of its initial variety.
I like Eldorado # 3. The period-correct gold-metallic paint looks great on that car. And the Vogue tires are a really nice touch!
To me, this is the end of the era of Cadillacs I’d own. The later Eldos grew to gargantuan proportions. And 7-8 mpg. The first generation probably got 10-12.
They remind me of the American buffalo/bison. Huge front end, small hindquarters and powerful. I owed it’s GM cousin, a ’67 Olds Toronado. GM engineering had it together on these early cars. To bad they went nowhere with their first FWD cars.
I find this generation Eldo be classically attractive, and agree with other comments about the ungainly next generation. But Cadillac interiors began loosing their panache with this generation Eldo. As such, I prefer the 66-68 Toro and Riv… and 70/71 Mark III.
For reasons no one wants to remember today my brother and his wife owned a 1973 Eldorado for several years in the late seventies. It was a fine car for what it was but trying to drive it anywhere except on Interstate type highways was an exercise in frustration. In a straight line the Eldo was quiet, comfortable and made you feel like you were in your living room, if your living room was capable of 75 MPH.
By 1973 the emissions controls had begun to have their way with most cars and the Eldorado was no exception. I’m too lazy to look it up but I want to say that the 500 CID V8 was rated for something like 180-190 horsepower. The torque was still there so you really didn’t notice the missing horses. Oh yes, the Eldo returned a steady 8 MPG in normal, around town driving and, maybe, 12 MPG at a steady state 70 MPH cruise. In either case you needed to have your own personal oil well not to go into shock at every fill up.
Again, this was a good number of years ago but I seem to remember that what finally convinced them to get rid of the Eldorado was when it needed new tires and my brother was quoted a price of around $1100 for a set of four. In any case the Eldo ended up getting swapped for a Chevette, of all things. I remember riding around town with my brother as he used up the gas remaining in the Eldorado, as you might imagine it didn’t take long to move the fuel gauge over to “E”.
It’s always difficult to grasp the shift from this classic, sharp-edged look to the ungainly 1971 Eldorado Bloatmobile Edition… which vies with the much later Aztek for pure ugliness.
I’ve always loved the first generation Eldorado, particularly the 1969 model. Cleanly and elegantly styled, I can’t understand how it was outsold by the garish Mark. Nice work, Mr. Mitchell.
Compared to the Eldorado’s interior, the interior of the Lincoln Continental Mark III looked much more luxurious and upscale (without being “over the top,” as they were by the late 1970s).
The Eldorado’s interior was nice, but didn’t really come across as a big step above a Riviera or a Toronado. The Mark’s interior did.
Those Continental Mark IIIs also had excellent build quality – particularly in the areas of exterior panel fit and paint finish.
Very nice article. You came across more of that generation of Eldo’s than I have seen in years.
This and the Mark were the cars I drooled over when they were current and I was in junior high and high school. Most of my contemporaries went for the Camaro or Mustang’s but not me. I worked at a used car lot during those years and they were the cars the lot owner’s drove, and I was able to drive several myself. I am not one to choose favorites as I like both of them for different reasons. The Eldo is more exclusive in the engineering department, but the Mark is more broughamy.
The way I could tell the difference between the years was; the ’67 has bumper mounted park lamps, the ’68 has fender mounted park lamps, the ’69 lost the hidden headlamps, and the ’70 has different tail lamps.
As mentioned above this was a good era for the personal luxury cars. I would have been happy with any one of them. I am still waiting to get mine… However, I have pretty well given up as if I had room for a fifty year old car in my life one of these would not be the best choice.
I forgot to mention the 2nd gen Corvair ragtop in the background of photo #1. The other end of the GM spectrum…
That’s mine, too…I figured it was too faint in the picture to reference. Eagle eyes on CC!
Great piece that manages to mingle an Eldorado and a VW camper all in the context of Voltaire. Only on CC.
Wrong Westphalia! Ha ha!
Aaron, this piece really is a brilliant and well-written conceit. I loved all the metaphorical ties between “Candide” (which I admit I haven’t read) and these Eldorados.
It didn’t hurt that these are among my favorite Cadillacs of all time, though I do prefer the ’67 and ’68 models.
Thanks Joe!
Thunder-ten-tronk !
I had a friend who had a ’68. I confess I like those better (along with the ’67), but at least they kept the rear end pretty much as was for 1969-70.
Many moons ago, I was a tour guide at Voltaire’s small château on the outskirts of Geneva, his own little Eldorado… Not quite as beautiful as the Cadillac, but somewhat roomier.
All those unadulterated cubic inches. 472 and 500, right?
Great write-up Aaron, nice literary tie-ins and excellent finds. I always liked these first generation Eldorados, although I prefer the ’67 and ’68s with the hidden headlights. One thing Ford did well with it’s Mark III was it didn’t change it’s appearance much from it’s introduction. IMO Cadillac and it’s sister cars could have done the same. Each looked it’s best as the introductory model.
The big let down for me with these Eldorados was the interior. I agree with Geeber’s comment above that the Mark III had a much more luxurious looking interior, while the Eldorado just didn’t look special.
I came across a ’68 Eldorado a few years ago locally. It was a rougher but solid original car, loaded with patina. One thing I always forget is how huge these cars were until you see one in person. I find photos almost make them look smaller. They are nice cars, but have almost a comical proportions.