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Because every Golden Age is defined by when the definer
arrived at that special time and place, enthusiasts of what
the French call "a certain age," will look at the exhibit seen
here and think "Hold up. What we see here is a lot less than
what we got then."
Let's begin with automotive history. Ever since 1900,
when there were only 8,000 cars total in the U.S., there have
been big ones and small ones, fast and slow, expensive and
cheap. For most of the first half of the 20th century, the
scales were parallel; big was faster than small, expensive
was more powerful than cheap, and the more you spent, the
faster you went. There was a wonderful range of cars; we
had runabouts from Stutz and Mercer, V-12s and V-16s from
Cadillac and Pierce-Arrow, Duesenbergs and Auburns could
be ordered with superchargers. However, through it all, the
scales applied-the Duesenberg outran the Dodge and the
Cadillac out-climbed the Chevy.
Then came World War II, not a happy time but even so,
progress is war's only useful product and we learned a lot
about engines. The end of the war ushered in the largest and
longest time of prosperity in human history-fueled by freedom
and pent-up demand. During the early postwar years,
the car companies knew they could sell anything they made,
so they made prewar cars-and they sold.
That changed for the 1949 model year, when General
Motors introduced new bodies and engines: high-compression,
overhead-valve V-8s. There were two independently
engineered versions, 331 CID for Cadillac and 303 for
Oldsmobile. Cadillacs were the big cars, but GM's policy
parceled out body varieties-made by Fisher, as they said
then-to its several divisions. The smallest and lightest was
labeled "A" and was used by Chevrolet, Pontiac and
Oldsmobile.
Here's where the other shoe dropped. After history was
made, the Olds engineers and execs were coy about what
they did, but said they knew performance would sell.
Without making any advertising claims or even fuss, they
took the V-8 intended for the big Olds, the 98, and offered it
in the little Olds, called the "76" until it became the "88,"
which was preceded by Rocket.* There's the muscle-car formula:
the big engine in the small car, offering more performance
than a Cadillac at a price not much higher than for
a Chevrolet.
The timing wasn't just everything; the timing was perfect.
During the 1930s, there were sports cars, hot rods and
stock-car racing, but they were so small and specialized as
to be secret; stock cars on Daytona's beach, stripped Fords
at the dry lakes, guys whose back yards comprised hundreds
of acres racing around the estate in souped-up English roadsters.
The postwar boom didn't just bring new Fords and
Chevys-along with V-8s from GM, Chrysler, Ford,
Studebaker and peers-it brought the Sports Car Club of
America, the National Hot Rod Association, the Southern
California Timing Association and the National Association
for Stock Car Auto Racing. We also had Jaguars, MGs,
Ferraris and Allards; and it was the oddball kids (such as
me), who wrenched jalopies instead of borrowing mom's
wagon, who were the leaders of a nationwide pack.
Performance cars were cool and they were everywhere. It
paid off for Olds, big time. In 1949 Rocket 88s won six of
the nine NASCAR races and topped the first and roughest
Pan American road race. Meanwhile, deep down, the image
that holds for me (a member of the Tulsa Timing
Association) was seeing a Rocket 88 and a Mercedes-Benz
300SL stage at the starting line at the airstrip we leased, and
watching the Olds put the Mercedes-twin cams and
desmodromic valves be darned-on the trailer. The world
had turned upside down.
With history duly noted, we can turn to the actual muscle
cars on display at the Gilmore Museum. Okay, it's a leap-
a lot happened between 1949 and 1963, as both NASCAR
and NHRA had revised the rules. Stock had become pretty
much what the factories said it was, as in options and what
they called off-road equipment. Chevy's evergreen smallblock
V-8 wasn't enough for the speedways or superstock at
the drags. The truck engine became the big block and the big
block grew and grew. The car, an Impala, was the full-size
Chevrolet, while the 348 V-8 grew into the 396, then the 409
and, finally, the 427. However, back in the day, there were
thousands of 409s actually sold to the public, while the 427
was a limited option and the lightweight, aluminum panels
and bumper in place of steel were seen only at the drags.
For more on this article and much more grab a copy of Auto Aficionado Magazine on newsstands nationwide!
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