As a young kid growing up in Oak Park, I really loved cars. This was no surprise, considering that our first home was at Madison and Wenonah, right near the Larry Faul Oldsmobile dealership (later Horn Olds). It also didn’t hurt that my formative years were arguably the best years for American cars, specifically the period from 1965 to 1975.
After hearing about the major troubles that the Big Three U.S. automakers are having, I began to reminisce about these glory days. Throughout that 10-year period, Chrysler (then called Mopar), Ford and GM made great cars, had little competition and the good times just kept on rolling. Back then, American autos had style and substance and were branded with interesting yet simple names, which made me wonder how the automakers came up with those monikers.
I picture auto company executives throwing darts at a map to come up with certain model names. Mopar folks even named a car after the dart itself. For example, one person hit Grandville and Eldorado; another nailed Monterey and Malibu. Years before, their predecessors named whole brands such as Cadillac, Pontiac, Plymouth, and Dodge in the same manner.
I don’t think Lincoln was named that way, however. Surely this venerable brand was named after the president. In fact, Lincoln was such a sophisticated brand, it had a model that was not at all provincial (Continental). Ford had one whose scope was even broader (Galaxy), as did Chevrolet (Nova). If you spoke Spanish, the No-va wasn’t your car because it roughly translated as “doesn’t go.”
Before we were all driving imports, cities and areas abroad that conjured up romantic images also became vehicle names: Riviera, Torino, Capri, Monte Carlo and Montego. Famous European auto races also got the nod, as with Grand Prix and Le Mans. The idea was for U.S. car executives to tag an auto with something exotic to make the consumer forget they basically used the car to travel to a boring job or the grocery store.
Ford seemed to favor names that evoked the rural spirit of the country, another form of escapism. Country Squire, Mustang, Pinto, Ranchero and Maverick (presumably what McCain drove) all appealed to the prospective buyer who was tired of the city and even the suburbs.
I don’t think LTD was a countrified name though. I guess it just meant that Ford didn’t make a lot of those cars. I had a neighbor who joked that the car’s limitations went far beyond the number produced. He wasn’t the only one to ridicule Ford. Some claimed the name was actually an acronym for “Found On Roadside Dead” or “Fix Or Repair Daily.”
Automakers named other models for buyers aspiring to royalty or peerage: Marquis, Crown Victoria, Regal, Coronet and Valiant. And where would a valiant Marquis be without his Cutlass and Le Sabre?
The Marquis was really big, as were a lot of other models back then. Of course, that would include all of the Cadillacs and Lincolns, but also the Buick Electra 225-known as the “deuce and a quarter.”
In the 21st century, car models are less distinct and stylish, and the names reflect that condition. These days, you see vehicles such as the Chevy Cavalier, the Plymouth Breeze and the Ford Focus.
If only the Big Three over the last three decades had been less cavalier with CEO salaries, perks and bonuses, had not prioritized the idiot wind of advertising, and had instead focused on producing dependable, economical and attractive cars, they wouldn’t have slipped and fallen into this oil slick.