If the Curbside Classic website were a religion (and it may be to some people), I would be “Orthodox”. That is, I like finding all-original old cars on the road or parked somewhere, which bring back memories of the now-misty past, and show us something of the state of automotive technology and styling at that particular time. So that’s why I wanted to share this 1964 Chevrolet Biscayne sedan for sale in Norfolk, VA, with plastic seat covers, six cylinder engine, Powerglide transmission, and a mere 52,000 miles.
You will not find a Chevy like this in Chevrolet enthusiast books, or in Super Chevy magazine (except as a “before”). Which is yet another reason why CC fills such an important role: showing you cars that other “mainstream media” won’t show–even if such cars have deep significance to many, many people. In fact, CC has run previous articles on the ’64s, including a 2-door sedan, taxi, and station wagon.
The typical kind of house you’d find these in front of. “Listen, I just want plain white aluminum siding so I won’t have to paint anymore.”
As a young car spotter in the 1970s & ’80s, I always was impressed by the 1959-64 full-size Chevys. Each year was distinctive in appearance, especially from the back. You could immediately tell an Impala (six taillights) from a Bel Air or Biscayne (four). I usually saw Impalas and an occasional Bel Air; Biscaynes were relatively uncommon, but they were out there.
By ’64, Biscaynes had chrome horn rings–and carpeting! How many old cars have been defaced with those *&%#!! triple-A stickers?!
As the 80s wore on, these once common conveyances of the proletariat started to thin out. I seem to associate them with supermarket and shopping center parking lots. By this time such cars were driven by older people who wanted to stick with the familiar. I specifically remember a ’57 Chevy wagon; two ’59 Impala sedans in blue; a black and a green ’60 Impala and a gray ’60 Bel Air; and quite a few 61-64s, with ’61 being the least common. I talked to a couple of owners, who were quite bemused that a youngster like me was so interested in their obsolete machines.
He should have ordered WYPE!
At a gas station in Millburn, NJ, I saw one of these ’64 sedans which had been hand painted black with a brush (or a broom–I couldn’t tell). It looked like a roofing-tar job on wheels! No shine, brush marks all over; no masking so there were slop marks on trim, taillights, glass. Worse than anything Earl Sheib ever turned out. But it was obvious that the owner put a lot of time into his project, and I’m assuming that it looked even cruddier before he started. I will say the thick black paint was doing a good job protecting the metal, and that’s what paint is for, isn’t it . . . ?
I love how copywriters make even the bottom-rung models seem luxurious and glamorous. And they look quite fashionable in those vivid colors–but our buyer was having none of that! Even the name “Biscayne” has a kind of wistful, vaguely exotic French or Spanish quality to it.
You’ve got to wonder about the guy who walks into a Chevy dealer’s and says, “Listen, I just want a plain ’64 Chevy sedan in white. Six cylinder with Powerglide. Radio, heater, and plastic seat covers–that’s all.”
I can imagine his trade in–a ’56 Plymouth Plaza sedan (solid gray), with push-button PowerFlite. A noisy muffler, missing one hubcap, and spewing clouds of blue smoke, despite several applications of STP. Rust holes in the floor are covered by old license plates.
Simplicity and ease of service is just part of the economy story . . .
Now before you start making fun of such a person, you have to remember that life is expensive. And other than a house, a new car is the largest purchase most people will make. Being able to afford the down payment and the monthly payments (with interest) will not be easy for many. So the idea of having low-cost “basic transportation” that is reliable represents true value to those who don’t want (or can’t afford) extravagance or showiness. “It takes all kinds of dogs to make a world.”
An interesting fact, however, is that in ’64 an economy buyer could select a higher-trim Chevelle Malibu sedan for less than the bottom-of-the-line full-size Biscayne–$2349 vs. $2417! The Chevelle was about the size of a 55-57 Chevy. I guess Biscayne buyers felt the bigger size was worth $68 extra?
Headliner looks minty!
Our featured Biscayne looks the way I remember a lot of these looking–worn and weathered, but not a total bomb. It’s got surface rust, engine and transmission leaks, and a few other problems–the kind of things that a couple of decades ago would be enough to send it straight to the boneyard–just another worn-out old car. I’d like to think that something that has lasted this long would be spared that fate, but “the hobby” can be cruel. Most “enthusiasts” don’t want to preserve and drive around in a tired 4-door Biscayne with a six. (Author’s note: I have a ’59 Biscayne six w/Powerglide and I think it does just fine in normal driving. If you want fast with tight handling, buy something new–this is about authentic nostalgia and charisma!)
Plastic seat covers have preserved the original upholstery well. Can we find a replacement armrest?
**SUPER BONUS** CC Effect struck while creating this post! If that Ermine White Biscayne doesn’t do it for you, I can also offer you this Desert Beige version, with 283 V-8, bumper guards and gas filler door trim, for sale in Richmond, MO:
For some reason, this shade of beige (usually called “Desert [something]”) was quite a popular choice in the early ’60s. You will fall into one of two camps: either you think it looks like mud, and “Why would anyone pick that?” or you appreciate the warm, subtle quality of earth tones, which bring out new, artistic effects of the “cleanly sculptured” body styling. Apparently, GM color stylists believed the latter.
$6500, runs well; this may be the better buy.
Who knew there would be two of these things still around?
Snazzy seats. Looks original, and still looks great. Tiger skin seat covers with leopard carpeting!
So that’s my ode to the 59-64 Chevys. I prefer the 59-60s, with their sleek, other-worldly designs, but the 61-64s are interesting too–they were clean, “friendly” shapes which millions of people owned or were familiar with driving down the American road. But that was many years and many miles ago. This once ubiquitous part of the carscape has become an antique curiosity.
Sensitive readers may want to skip this last part:
Where most of them went to die. Stack ’em up . . .
Grab one . . .
Load it in. Squuuuuush!
Ah yes, from the year General Motors farmed out their exterior styling to the Velveeta cheese box people.
IMO the ’64 looked like the box the ’61 came in. That being said, it works much better as a Biscayne 4-door post than as a fancy Impala hardtop coupe.
Agree and agree.
Nice, I’d prefer the white one, but either would be fun. I remain jealous of you American’s easy access to relatively cheap, relatively rust free old cars.
Just as an aside, isn’t that website one that just collects and regurgitates old ads, so those cars could have been for sale years ago?
The tan definitely went with the Biscayne personality. I knew some Biscayne people, and they made a point of choosing tan because it didn’t show dirt so you didn’t need to wash as often.
I think the AAA sticker also goes with the package. Cautious savers figured out that it was cheaper in the long run to have AAA available, rather than trying to find a random gas station or tow service in a strange town, who would overcharge you. AAA had certain standards.
Interesting point about the well-dressed and by no means tiny Mailbu costing less than a strippo Biscayne. That probably was what pushed base model full-size cars into the fleets-and-old-folks image you describe in later years.
As a recent buyer of the “Prices Starting At” model myself, having gone out of state (just before the pandemic) to source a manual transmission, on the one hand my only quibble is with the Powerglide; on the other I think if I were beamed back to a Chevy showroom in 1964 I’d have driven out in a Corvair Monza with a 4-speed. But then I try to put myself in the mindset of someone who was my age in 1964 (who would’ve been born in the 1917-1920 range) and is a cheapskate like I actually am it may have been a base Nova in a reasonably nice color.
If you look carefully at that last interior shot with the leopard throw I do believe that the seats are not actually pleated but is a faux pleat effect created by shaded stripes on plain flat upholstery cloth. I recall seeing these seats at Marsden Chev in MD when the cars were new and thinking “what a weird cheesy way to economize!”.
Re Biscayne vs Malibu: Looking at the 1964 Houston Chronicle it appears that discounts of 20% were available on full size Chevys and 15% on Chevelles. So the $2417 Biscayne could possibly be bought for $1934 while the $2349 Malibu could be had for $1996. If someone was really pinching pennies a 1964 Chevelle 300 two door six cylinder listed for $2231. After 15% discount that would be $1896.
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This is a good place for me to ask for some help. Before the internet there were publications like Edmunds new Car Price Guide that pubblished sticker prices and dealer invoice prices for every American car. Edmunds started in 1966 but there were others before that. I know that because I spent countless hours studing them and pricing out cars that my father just had to buy. Of course he never did get what I suggested as he had way too much sense.
Does anyone know where to find those price guides on line today? Thanks in advance.
I have a stack of old LIFE magazines from the late-’50s and through the ’60s, mostly featuring LIFE’s outstanding manned space flight coverage. The ads, especially car-related, are increasingly fascinating with age.
There’s one for the line-up of full-size 1963 Chevrolets, including “Luxurious Impala”, “Sporty Bel Air”, and “Economical Biscayne”.
I showed this ad to a high-school friend, who put his own spin on it:
“Luxurious Impala” was said slowly, in a posh hoity-toity French accent.
“Sporty Bel Air” was said quickly, in a Speedy-Gonzales-type accent.
“Economical Biscayne” was said in a humble and abased Peter Lorre voice.
’59-’60 Chevy’s were “SLEEK”? I guess I missed that, way back when I was driving-once a week, MAX-my dad’s ’60 Biscayne 4 door 3 on the tree 6 stripper!!! A graceless, wallowing TANK, yes, but……uhh…”sleek”???
Aah well, beauty IS in the eye of the beholder. Now the warm white, with “snazzy” red interior, ’65 Malibu 4 dr, AT/6 he bought…………not bad except for 2 tooooo many doors and no 327. OTOH, it wa$ his money and I was a gone from home young Marine; so 0 input!! 🙂 DFO
Interesting (to me) that both cars have whitewalls, as do all the cars in the Chevy advertising-brochure photos. My sense is that whitewalls + hubcaps looked “thrifty,” but anything with blackwalls looked “cheapskate.”
I do remember when these were everywhere, and in Great Lakes Salt Belt they looked like this by the mid-1970s—this this is real time-travel for me today.
FWIW, Here’s a New York State dealer listing what’s in stock, maybe figuring that if you’re willing to pay for an Impala, you’ll want to order it your way?
Not knowing exactly what the colors look like, I notice all the fancy adjectives for paint colors are reserved for the cars plus the El Camino, whereas the trucks are just “color, light color, dark color”.
“Adjectives are what sell” is a cliche for a reason.
Dad had a ’64 Impala wagon in the same color as the one in the crusher.
With 6 kids and one in the oven, he bought the Impala because it came with upgraded vinyl seats to accommodate the brood, and an AM radio, nothing else. It had manual steering, brakes, windows, three on the tree, and sans A/C. I remember him installing a review mirror on the driver’s door sourced from a parts store.
My father bought a 1963 Belair in white – base “turbo thrift” straight six, three on the coclumn. It was I think completely stripped; as it came with neither side rear-view or radio. He was thrify to the extreme, but with a young child sick with RA (my older brother), I couldn’t blame him.
Within a year, he had installed both the mirror and the radio. My brother was better by then and perhpas he thoguth he’d gone a bit too far. His next car was a 1971 Buick Skylark with a 350, which seemed like a luxerious rocket ship to me, who had recently sat in the rear seat of the now-rusty ’63.
That white Biscayne brings back very vivid memories. I played the violin in grade school, and we had a city-wide orchestra that met once per week. Dean Harless played viola, and on alternating weeks, his dad would drive us. He had a black ’58-’59 Rambler American, but then one day he showed up in a new white Biscayne, with red interior. It was a six (natch) and had a manual transmission. Total stripper.
I was pleasantly surprised to see that it had actual carpeting though. Strippers like my dad’s Fairlane typically came with rubber floors, but the Biscayne had that red loop carpeting. And the back seat was a whole lot wider than the Rambler’s. 🙂
The point about the A-bodies being (possibly) cheaper really tells the future of the Biscayne. By a few years after 1964, let’s say ’68 or so, one rarely saw a Biscayne being driven by a retail buyer. Taxicabs, law enforcement vehicles, and other fleet vehicles, sure, but retail buyers who wanted cheap big cars were pretty much pushed to Bel Airs.
It was long ago that I lost my “Standard Catalog”, but I seem to remember that in this era a Bel Air was only $100 or so more than a Biscayne.
Don’t know if you can read this (Mecum auction thing online), but here’s a dealership poster with prices for “6” and “V8”:
Biscayne Bay is in South Florida, and named likely after the Bay of Biscay off France (just north of Spain).
As evocative, pleasant, places to name a car after go, it’s a good ‘un.
Places in Florida have been a favorite theme for several automakers, including Chevrolet. Along with Biscayne there was the Delray (Delray Beach is on the southeast coast of Florida), and more recently there were the compact SUVs Captiva (Captiva Island and its sister Sanibel Island are on the southwest coast near Fort Myers) and Orlando. However, you couldn’t get an Orlando in Orlando – or Tampa or Miami or any other place in the USA – because it was not sold there. In addition, Bel Air is in California, but there are a “Belleair Beach” and a “Belleair Shore” near St. Petersburg and Clearwater.
Maybe the owner can make a deal with a film company, and this duo can be used as set decorations in a movie that takes place from the mid `60s to the mid `70s.
CCFan
I believe I have the 1964 edition of Edmonds. If Paul can post it, I will send it to him.
My Dad admired the clean, uncluttered styling of these early 60s Biscaynes. As kids we thought he was just being CHEAP. But…what did he buy? A 1963 Cadillac!
My recollection is that the Chevrolet Biscaynes didn’t look as stripped as their competitor the Ford Custom. Looking at the featured car, it had to be the Biscayne’s full length chrome spear that brought at least a little respect. Save for three ornaments behind the headlights, the Ford was completely bare.
Fascinating article, thanks Poindexter! The white Biscayne isn’t very far from me; I live in Charlottesville, VA.
My mother was the exact type of buyer for these cars, except she purchased in cash, moved up a step to the Bel Air, and insisted on 2-doors for the kids’ safety (even though my brother and I were teenagers by the time of the second purchase shown below). And…ours had 3-on-the-tree manuals.
Our 2 cars neatly bookend the ’64s you’ve highlighted. The ’61 was very similar to the pictured one except for no whitewalls, and the ’67 is our actual car, some years after my brother “hopped it up” by removing the dogdishes and jacking up the rear.
She really should have chosen a Chevelle 4-door by ’67, as her aging parents (my grandparents) were living with us.
I grew up in the suburbs of Toronto in the 60s. The high school I went to covered quite a large area, ranging from middle class (where I lived) to quite wealthy. In my class one guy drove a Buick GS 350 and one girl drove a brand new Cadillac, so at least some families were not short of money. One day the mother of a girl in my class picked several of us up from school. I did not know the daughter well, but I knew they lived in the more expensive area, so I was rather surprised when her mother showed up driving a stripped 64 Biscayne. It had a 3-speed column shift, no radio. As far as I could tell it had no options at all. I did not know you could actually buy a car like this and I had not seen a column shift since my dad’s 53 Ford. It was probably a very rational choice but it was a bit bizarre for her neighbourhood.
Some people just don’t have to flaunt it. Probably more so in your country.
It was certainly more comfortable than the time I got a ride in the back of a Nash Metropolitan.
She had to borrow the maid’s car when her Jag wouldn’t start.
This is probably my least favorite of the 61-64 Chevrolet. The sides of the 61 and 63 had such elegant symmetry, with front and rear counterpoints. The 62–I spent a lot of time with my Dad in his Biscayne company car, so that’s in its own category. (He even taught to shift from first to second.) The 64 I remember primarily as a neighbor’s car in an awful green with a Powerglide that whined in Park. Those cars provided transportation, nothing more and nothing less. Thank you for the reminder.
They all whined in Park.
Now think about that… the engine could idle so low and silently (400rpm?) that the transmission’s pump noise could be heard.
The ’63 Impala in the mall parking lot with the ’63 LeSabre just to the right is an interesting contrast. The Buick appears leaner and meaner and less wallowy, if such a thing can be discerned from a photo.
And the face of that year Plymouth always reminds me of Grandpa Al Lewis chomping on a cigar.
This generation full-size Chevrolet made up probably 33% of my mid-70s high school parking lot, the vast majority either six cylinder or 283 Power glide, and all 4-door sedans. Mom & Dad bought them brand new a few years after buying their first stick-built 3BR/1BA house for $10K in the far suburbs, and handed the Chevys down to their kid.
They did what they were supposed to do.
When I see one of these it reminds me of Cheech and Chong’s ‘Up in Smoke’ movie… The Love Machine!
When I had my paper route back in my grade school days, I had a customer who owned a 1964 Biscayne 4-door sedan in beige. Of course the owner was the stereotypical cheap grouchy old man. (in the 3 years I had the route, I don’t think I ever saw him crack a smile). I remember thinking that his clothing matched his car: drab, devoid of color, but functional.
The 1964 Chevy always looked kinda plain and blocky to me.
It seems to me that sometimes Chevrolet’s styling hit a high point the second-last year of a generation, and then they changed things for the worse just for the sake of making changes. For example, I far prefer the ’63 to the ’64, the ’65 to the ’66, and the ’69 to the ’70.
Looking at the engine bay of the 6 cylinder I’m reminded of my youthful folly of purchasing and installing ‘budget’ spark plug wires. When I drove though deep puddles the splashing water easily infiltrated the gap between the spark plug wire and spark plug ‘boot’, causing an electrical storm under the hood. The 6 cylinder is a somewhat long engine and the water-induced misfires seemed to make the straight 6 lurch fore and aft, like it wanted to escape from the shackles of the engine mounts. Or maybe that is a Cheech and Chong hallucination? Anyways, I’m happy to note that someone cared enough to spring for quality spark plug wires on this Biscayne, as I eventually did. Popping the hood to dry off spark plug wires isn’t fun, although driving fast through puddles is.
In 1962 my uncle inexplicably traded his ‘58 Cadillac Sixty Special for a new Biscayne wagon. The Biscayne was a total 6 cylinder stripper, the only option being an AM radio. I never did get an explanation why he did this. My aunt loved that Caddy. My uncle, not so much.
I drove my first mile in one of these, a Bel Air. Well, I sat on my mother’s lap, and she worked the pedals. It was thrilling and horrifying. The car seemed at least three lanes wide, and I only had two to work with. I stayed in the right seat for a few more years, and when I drove again on a learner’s permit, she’d traded up to a ’65 Mustang 289. Perfect timing! That pony car was tight and tidy, light and tossable, by comparison. Since then, my car choices were anything but the normal, the familiar, the common, the reliable.
That old Bel Air became a never-remembered memory, until now.
The standard carpet & cloth, and (gasp) armrests make the Biscayne a palace compared to Australia’s ‘povo packs’! You didn’t even get a cigar lighter in the base model.
This car is more or less as we had them in Israel back when they were new. US and Canadian cars were bought – more than anything else – because of their legendary reliability; high performance was not on the agenda in a country where cruising at faster than 50 mph was the exception rather than the rule. On the other hand fuel was never cheap over there so a frugal 6 made sense. Find an originally imported car and it’s likely to have that engine, maybe with a 3 on the tree even.
More Biscayne trivia:
In 1960 and 1961 Chevy offered a Biscayne Fleetmaster which was a stripped down Biscayne. It does not look to me like there was much left to remove from a regular Biscayne but Chevy found some ways to build a really cheap car.
Over the years many people and dealers have built Biscaynes specially set up for drag racing – cheapest possible body and most powerful possible engine, etc. These were frequently called ¨Bisquick¨. I wonder if the baking people ever sponsored a drag racer?
I think that interior on the tan car is the original stuff – amazing that it is in such good shape!
Oh my, I did my time in a friend’s 1962 version, though his was a Bel Air 2 door sedan. Come to think of it, a step-grandpa had a 63 Bel Air with the 6/PG and this same tan interior (with exterior paint was dark brown that had chalked into a whitish-gray by the late 60s). One of these was the simplest way to drive a 1951 Chevrolet in the 60s. There was much to recommend the durability and the simplicity of the thing, but in my experience there was absolutely nothing to recommend it for the driving experience. This is something that would change drastically in the coming years.
One thing that stood out to me in the pictures is the way the windshield on the sedans still wrapped high up into the roof, a feature shared with the first year of that generation, the wild 1959s. Of course, the A-pillars had returned to normal to eliminate the dogleg, but that tall glass remained.
I remember my mother always driving her ’61 with the sunvisor tilted forward against the glass to avoid all the glare from above. And no tinted glass in our car!
Just checked if there were any ’64 Chevy stories on Curbside Classic and there are, of course. I bought a ’64 Bel Air four-door sedan last month in the Netherlands (I live in Germany) that is currently being readied for the autobahn.
Just kidding. It’s a Six with Powerglide, so high-speed car chases are out of the question plus they’re not my cup of tea, anyway.
When I was a kid in the Sixties, I had a ’64 Impala by Matchbox (remember them?) and it was one of my favorites. Now, more than 50 years later, I actually get to own my dream car in real life. Incredible.
My Bel Air is an export model and was assembled from a CKD kit at GM’s Continental plant in Antwerp, Belgium. This was common practice in those days because it saved the company money; import tariffs were lower for CKDs than for complete cars. Beginning in 1968, however, no more American cars were assembled there and imported complete instead. New trade agreement.
Anyway, American cars were modestly popular in Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg in those days even though buyers only had access to a tiny selection of models from GM’s comprehensive lineup. Only mid-level trim line four-doors with Sixes and automatic transmissions.
Of course, anyone with deep pockets could import any car from the US privately if they didn’t mind the prohibitive prices and tariffs. Back then, one dollar equaled four deutschmarks, for example, so even vehicles that Americans would have considered economy cars were hilariously expensive once they reached European showrooms. Back in the day, a reporter from Car & Driver on assignment in Europe recalled with amazement spotting a chauffeur-driven Ford Falcon station wagon in Brussels, Belgium.
As a side note, I owned a 1966 Chevelle 300 Deluxe four-door in the 1980s when I was a student at Cologne University. Needless to say, it had a 230 with Powerglide and came from Antwerp originally. Fond memories, indeed.
My Bel Air is pretty much of a stripper. Other than the automatic transmission, it only features a tinted windshield as optional extra. That’s it. No power steering, no power brakes, no power windows, no power seat, no tilt steering wheel, no remote-control outside rearview mirror, no air conditioning. Plenty of things that can’t break or fail.
The car needs quite a bit of rehabilitation (restoration would be too strong a word) to be street-legal and presentable. A few rustholes to be taken care of and some leaks (radiator, engine, and transmission) to be stopped. Also, one of the previous owners installed a leaky Holley 2bbl carb plus non-original intake manifold. This carb will be replaced by an OEM Rochester 1bbl and the original intake manifold re-installed.
I’m really looking forward to cruising in my childhood dream car. A simple four-door with a Six probably won’t turn many enthusiast heads, but to me it’s the ultimate individualist’s vehicle, off the the all-too-well-trodden paths.
On the contrary, my ’59 Biscayne (6 cyl., Powerglide, manual steering & brakes) turns A LOT of heads, and your ’64 will too! I think you’ll find it’s a great cruiser!
If it’s as much fun as my ’66 Chevelle used to be in the 1980s I’ll be completely satisfied. I’m twice as old now as I was back then and I feel I have somewhat outgrown intermediates, so nothing but a full-size car will do.
My memories of the 230 plus Powerglide in the Chevelle are very fond and were an essential reason why I was attracted to the Bel Air in the first place.
So you see, the Six is not a consolation prize to me. As a matter of fact, I’m giving up my current cruiser, a 1984 Mercury Grand Marquis LS with the 302 CID V8 and options galore to make room for the utilitarian Bel Air.
Some people think I’m fuzzy in the head trading a V8 for a Six, but they don’t understand that speed and power mean nothing to me. Style and dependability are what really matters.
I don’t have any decent pictures of the Bel Air yet, but I’ll post one when the car’s rehab is finished.
I am 1 of those hot rod enthusiasts that enjoy driving and old chevy 4 door sedan with an inline 6.. I drive a 66 chevy 2 barn find to work and back often. 100 miles round trip. I am thinking about trading it for a 64 biscayne, desert in color, an AC car at that..
This article definitely helped make my decision.. thanks.