Vintage Car Life Review: 1965 Oldsmobile Delta 88 — “The View Through GM-Colored Glasses”

 

The full-size Oldsmobile line was all-new for 1965, with crisp new styling, a new engine, a new transmission, and a new mid-level trim series called Delta 88. Car Life tested the 1965 Delta 88 in April 1965, and found that for all its improvements, it was still a pleasant but very conservative car for buyers more interested in conformity than verve.

I’ve had to cheat a bit in this post: I spent an unreasonable amount of time scouring the Internet for half-decent photos of 1965 Olds Delta 88 Holiday Coupe and came up pretty short. So, some of the exterior shots are actually of an Almond Beige Dynamic 88 of the same two-door hardtop body style. This does at least provide an opportunity to describe how the new Delta 88 — which would become one of Oldsmobile’s most popular nameplates — originally differed from the $188 cheaper Dynamic 88. I’ll get into that a bit later.

 

Car Life began their review with an observation that I think is very important in understanding GM in the days before the disastrous Roger Smith reorganization of the 1980s. They said:

IF ALL General Motors cars reflected the characteristics of high level corporate management, they might all be the Oldsmobile Dynamic Delta 88 Holiday Coupe [sic]. Of course, GM cars are actually produced by five different divisions and most models differ to the degree that divisional executives differ from the higher-up corporate counterparts. No divisional manager fit the GM mold more ideally than did Jack F. Wolfram, who retired from that post about the time the 1965 Oldsmobiles went into production. This year’s Olds, then, was his responsibility well past the time of the final Go-No-Go decision.

Here’s a photo of Jack Wolfram with Jimmy and Gloria Stewart at the 1954 Motorama:

Wolfram hewed the corporate edict on performance with a literal vehemence that at times approached the absurd. Despite his engineering background, this tough general manager could blandly expound on the “sports car qualities” of the Starfire or the inherent high performance of any standard, garden variety sedan bearing the Olds medallion. His question, “Why should we sell aluminum or magnesium wheels when we’ve got wheel covers that look just like them?” has become something of a classic among the knowledgeable, who detect in it the epitome of the view through GM-colored glasses.

Wolfram, who had become Oldsmobile general manager in December 1950, was not well-liked by his staff, which considered him a difficult, tyrannical boss. I do think Car Life was being a little unfair — Wolfram signed off on a number of innovative projects, including triple carburetion, turbocharging, and the early phases of the FWD project — but he was very conservative and very stodgy, and he definitely wasn’t the kind to bend the rules like Bunkie Knudsen at Pontiac.

Though the general manager’s suite has since been relinquished to former chief engineer Harold N. Metzel, the Dynamic Delta 88 Holiday Coupe still exudes the Wolfram-on-wheels aura. … Its resemblance to corporate GM lies in the facade of things which are called what they aren’t, such as bench seats that supposedly act like buckets or wheel covers masquerading as turbine spools; in a little alliteration chosen by its wordsmiths as description; and in conservative tailoring so commonplace as to become distinctive uniform.

The photo caption reads, “HOLIDAY HARDTOP coupe is ‘sportingest’ model in the Dynamic/Delta line-up.”

 

Car Life‘s crack about the seats is a good segue to explaining the Delta 88 and its role in the Oldsmobile lineup. In 1965, the cheapest full-size Olds was the Jetstar 88, which combined the larger B-body with the running gear of the A-body F-85/Cutlass. Above this was the Dynamic 88, which had the big Rocket V-8 and different transmission choices. The new Delta 88 was supposed to fit above the Dynamic 88 and below the flagship 98, replacing the old Super 88 series.

 

Curiously, Oldsmobile initially announced the Delta as a Dynamic 88 sub-series, which is why many reviews and some early 1965 Olds brochures call it “Dynamic 88 Delta.” (Car Life editors stumbled over the awkward syntax, incorrectly calling it “Dynamic Delta 88.”) Early in the model year, Oldsmobile seemingly decided “Delta 88” had a nicer ring to it and revised the brochures.

 

This nomenclature shuffle did help to clarify how the Delta differed from the Dynamic 88. Outside, the main point of Delta identification was a ribbed chrome lower body side molding, inserted below the thinner molding used on the Dynamic 88. (Also, for some reason, the 1965 Delta 88 wasn’t available as a convertible, although one would be added for 1966.)

 

Inside, the Delta had courtesy lamps (a $4.84 option on the Dynamic 88) and deluxe trim, a bit fancier than the already-plush Dynamic 88 interior:

 

The major feature of the Delta 88 interior was a new Custom Sport Seat. This was what GM would later call a “Strato-Bench,” with a fold-down center armrest and bucket-like seat facings. Oldsmobile made a big deal at the press introduction about how this gave a “bucket effect,” which drew some sneering from buff book reviewers, although buyers seemed to like this kind of bench seat, and it was more practical than buckets in full-size cars.

 

Like the 1965 Dynamic 88, the Delta 88 came with the latest 425 cu. in. Olds V-8, which was essentially a tall-deck version of the 330 cu. in. engine in the A-body F-85/Cutlass and Jetstar 88.

 

Car Life explained:

Oldsmobile engineers designed a new engine which would incorporate the most modern concepts of engine technology as well as fit existing toolwork and maching equipment. Since the same had been done more than a year earlier for the new 330-cu. in. V-8 for the F-85 series, that original tooling was really returning every possible cent on the original investment.

Some 30 lb. less weight is deposited over the front wheels with this new engine than with a 394, despite the absence of thinwall methods in casting the gray iron block and heads. Total weight is 618 lb. without flywheel but with all accessories and 2-barrel carburetor. Another 30 lb. or so may be saved when production facilities become available for hot-box coring and thinwall techniques that then can be used; the present castings were actually designed to eventually take advantage of that method. Actual weight savings at the moment come from the use of aluminum parts and from swapping integrally cast housings: A sheet metal and aluminum cover replaces the former flywheel housing, which also reduces block length at the rear, and the timing gear case has given way to a cast-in pocket at the front which is covered by a flat steel plate.

The 425 was available in four states of tune. The standard Super Rocket engine in the Dynamic 88 and Delta 88 had a two-barrel carburetor, giving 310 gross horsepower on premium fuel. A lower-compression L65 version was a no-cost option, sacrificing 10 hp for the ability to run on regular gasoline. For $37.68, buyers could order the L74 four-barrel Super Rocket from the Olds 98, which had 360 hp. The top option was the L75 Starfire V-8, shared with the Jetstar I and Starfire, which had 370 gross horsepower.

The photo caption reads, “DASH FEATURES three big dial faces in and between padded hoods. Armrest between seatbacks folds down to give ‘bucket’ seats.”

 

Despite the new engine’s stout bottom end, lightweight semi-cylindrical rockers, bigger valves, and measured-bleed-down hydraulic lifters (which Olds claimed prevented valve float when the lifters pumped up at high rpm), Car Life found the 425 severely handicapped by the two-barrel carburetor:

While this [new intake] manifold has adequately provided the necessary breathing passages for the 2-in. intake valves, the brace of 1.69-in. carburetor barrels are actually a strangler’s grip on the windpipes. In testing, this engine would gasp to 4400 rpm, at which point the transmission would change ratios with w.o.t. Beyond that, lung collapse was inevitable; it was heartless and futile to force it along in lower gears once the gagging started. Removing the adenoidal restrictions with a full quartet of venturis is obviously necessary before the third stage Rocket can hope to stay on the track team. And without some care, it was feared that the pulsation inside that 425-cu. in. chest cavity might inhale the inner organs of the carburetor.

Car Life clocked the Delta 88 from 0 to 60 mph in 9.8 seconds and through the quarter mile in 17.1 seconds at 82 mph. Interestingly, Motor Trend, testing an identically equipped Delta 88, recorded very similar quarter-mile performance — 17.3 seconds at 82 mph — but was much quicker off the line, running from 0 to 60 in a more respectable 8.7 seconds.

Although Oldsmobile’s stated rationale for the two-barrel carburetor was better fuel economy, testers found there was only so much of that you could expect from a 7-liter (6,964 cc) engine in a 4,200-pound car: Car Life estimated a normal range of 13 to 16 mpg, but Motor Trend couldn’t manage better than 15 mpg, dropping as low as 8 mpg in hard driving.

 

Surprisingly, you could get a four-speed manual on a 1965 Dynamic 88 or Delta 88, but it was very, very rare — Oldsmobile reported an installation rate of only 0.02 percent! Nearly all buyers chose Turbo Hydra-Matic, which had debuted on some 1964 Buick and Cadillac models and was a new option for full-size Oldsmobiles in 1965. The THM was smoother and more positive than the old three-speed Hydra-Matic, aided by its variable-pitch torque converter stator:

In addition to the two geared reductions and direct drive provided by this transmission, there is the in-between area where the torque converter is put to use through variable “switch-blade” stators (hence, the CL label as “3.5-speed transmission”). At cruise, with an easy throttle pedal, the stator blades ride at 32° and a stall ratio of 1.8. But a sudden mash on the organ-type bass treadle pedal flips a solenoid switch which yanks the blades open to 51°, thereby stepping up torque multiplication to 2.2:1. With closed throttle, as at idle, the blades also are open to cut down tendencies for the car to creep. It makes no difference, however, whether acceleration is from a standstill or in the passing speed ranges, the increased torque multiplication means there’s an intermediate gear (in effect) so that the speed up is both positive and rapid. …

The column-mounted shift control can be used to keep this transmission in any range on the now-standardized quadrant (PRNDSL, with the S meaning Super). In the lower gears, it stays there until the aforementioned inhalation of carburetor innards happens. But it also means that the car has what amounts to nine gears: 5.46, 4.46, and 2.48:1 in Low; 3.26, 2.66, and 1.48:1 for Super; and 2.20, 1.80, and 1.00:1 in Drive. Such an arrangement is, to say the least, a far cry from early post-war lurch-and-shift automatics.

 

The photo captions read, “CAVERNOUS TRUNK has huge capacity, but spare location requires tire-changer to get into trunk to get out jack. TWO-BARREL carburetor on standard version of 425-cu. in. engine chokes off horsepower, gives reasonable mileage.”

 

Oldsmobile had adopted a “Guard-Beam” perimeter frame back in 1961, although it was resigned for 1965. Although the editors of Car Life understood the principles of perimeter frame construction very well, they often felt GM’s early execution of the concept left something to be desired, and the Delta 88 was sadly no exception:

The frame change was said by Oldsmobile engineers to increase front end rigidity, but in the test Delta, at least, it might have been more thorough. Far from removing minor road harshness, the design seemed to transmit it to the front fender areas; racking and twisting experienced on less than perfect roadways in turn generated some crackling noises in the windshield header and drip rail part of the body. … There now is actually less isolation from distractions of the roadways since the frame lets the occupants know about almost every imperfection.

For 1965, Oldsmobile had also made various minor revisions to the suspension, which CL found of no great consequence in a car that still emphasized quietness and a soft ride over all other considerations:

The end result of all of this jiggery-pokery is a car which handles about the same as before. Oldsmobile has too much invested in owner loyalties to jeopardize in any way the riding qualities of its cars. So they use a little more rubber of a little softer variety and a little more sound padding, and the less said about it all from the enthusiast point of view the better.

Oldsmobile didn’t yet offer disc brakes in 1965, but the 11-inch drums in the full-size cars had wider brake shoes, increasing swept area from 310 to 328 square inches. Car Life rated Delta 88 stopping power above average, although it was prone to rear lockup. Motor Trend also noted that the Olds suffered alarming nose dive in panic stops.

 

The Olds brakes still faded rapidly — in this area, the finned aluminum drums used by Buick or the integral aluminum wheel/drum brakes offered by Pontiac still had an edge, although they didn’t stop any quicker.

 

Car Life was intrigued by the new dashboard’s curious V-shaped speedometer surround, but they had mixed feelings about the new interior overall:

The new bodies are wider by 2.6 in. and most of the increase does benefit the passengers. Curved side windows also help to increase the air space at shoulder blade height. Inside appointments are calculated to carry the passengers in the veritable lap of luxury, as in the Oldsmobile tradition. Much could be criticized, on the other hand, in the matter of taste; nevertheless, such things instill what partisan spirit remains among Oldsmobile owners, so perhaps they had best be ignored.

Seating in the Delta was on pleated vinyl benches. Despite a folding center armrest, they remained benches even in appearance, company publicity to the contrary. Ignoring that, it was plush, comfortable seating for either two or three, as regulated by armrest position.

 

They also complained that the sloping roofline provided very poor over-the-shoulder visibility, warning, “Outside rearview mirrors are mandatory, and on both sides of the car, as the price one must pay for such fashionable styling.” Side window sealing was also iffy.

 

Motor Trend offered a couple of additional comments about the interior: Despite the 123-inch wheelbase, they found rear legroom only adequate for adults …

 

… and the brushed aluminum dashboard trim caused annoying reflections in bright sunlight:

 

They also wished for more actual instruments rather than just an arc of small warning lights.

Unlike the Pontiac Bonneville, which could be made to handle with reasonable composure, the Delta 88 made no pretense of being a performance car, and there wasn’t much to be done about it on the regular options list.

 

Car Life suggested:

Buyers who take their driving seriously, and who have occasion to use their brakes more often, might investigate the metallic brake option which Olds lists. In fact, that type of driver would be far happier to order as many of the trailer-hauling options as he can (with or without the trailer hitch, depending on preference) to firm up the ride and handling of the car. The fact that many police departments find Oldsmobiles—albeit properly optioned ones—satisfactory for pursuit work indicates that the car can be upgraded in overall performance if the effort is made. Whether a friendly, local dealer is willing to make the ordering attempt is, of course, something else.

Oldsmobile offered stiffer rear springs and Superlift rear shocks for buyers interested in towing, but there were no other heavy-duty suspension or brake options on the RPO list. Police-package equipment would have been an unusual special order for a civilian Delta 88, and not one most buyers of full-size Oldsmobiles would have wanted in this era. This just wasn’t that kind of car.

 

As Car Life concluded:

The Delta was a pleasant enough car for those whose main concern is for a character and breeding not unlike that of the third-generation rich: Proper in its place, accepted in the Right Places, and expected to conform. If the veneer is beginning to wear a bit thin, that’s sad, of course. Certainly it has had the benefit of all the proper upbringing and the tutorage of the finest headmasters. Its family stock has been known to raise a bit of the Old Ned in earlier days; shows they were human, you know. Young Delta’s just a chip off the old block, and a handsome lad, too. Good breeding always shows, they say.

And it shows in the sales figures, too. With so many people wanting just such a car, is there any reason to build anything else?

Oldsmobile was No. 6 in 1965 model year sales, right on the heels of Buick, with a domestic market share of 6.7 percent. The Delta 88 was responsible for about 15 percent of that business, accounting for 90,467 cars in its first year, while the cheaper Dynamic 88 sold 119,497 cars.

 

Within a few years, the Delta 88 line would begin to overtake its cheaper siblings, and was divided into standard, Custom, and later Royale sub-series. The nameplate survived through 1988. The Delta 88 was seldom an exciting car, and it had no interest in rocking the corporate boat, but it was big, plush, comfortable, and respectable, which was more than enough for a lot of Olds buyers.

Related Reading

COAL: 1965 Oldsmobile 88 – Regrets, I’ve Had a Few (by JJPowers)
Curbside Classic: 1964 & 1965 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight – In the Key of C (Part 1) (by Laurence Jones)
Vintage Dealers: A Cadillac-Oldsmobile Dealer, From 1956 To 1966 (by Rich Baron)
Vintage Comparison Test: 1965 Buick LeSabre, Chrysler Newport, Mercury Monterey, Olds Dynamic 88, Pontiac Catalina – Road Test Evaluates Medium Standard Sedans (by GN)