Preston Tucker and His Battle to Build the Car of Tomorrow

by Steve Lehto

  A Cord transmission was not designed to handle as much horsepower as the Franklin engine generated, however. Heavy acceleration from a dead stop in first gear could very well break gears inside the transmission.33 It was simply another engineering obstacle they would have to deal with down the road.

  Tucker cared little about the nuances of the car at this point. He needed one ready to show off at the first annual stockholders meeting on March 9.

  The First Car off the Assembly Line—#1001

  The first shareholders meeting was scheduled for March 9, 1948, in Chicago, and Preston Tucker would once again put on a show. This time it would be for people who had invested in the company. And a finished car would be his costar. At least, that is what Tucker told his men as the date approached. But at the moment they got the news, they did not have an engine or a transmission to put in it.

  They rushed to finish a “production” car. The engine was finished in Ypsilanti the day before the meeting and driven to Chicago, where it was installed in the car overnight. The assembly room was decked out in flags, which probably made it look more like a political rally than a shareholders meeting. The unveiling was set for 11:00 AM, and the mechanics were putting the finishing touches on the car at 10:55.

  Although there was still a last-minute rush to ready it, the event was not as frenetic as the launch of the Tin Goose. The stockholders waiting in the assembly area heard the rumble of an engine before the car appeared. Some said that Preston Tucker had told the mechanics to leave the mufflers off to make it sound more powerful, but it is just as likely that there wasn’t time to install them. Tucker was behind the wheel, and according to some witnesses he raced across the floor of the plant at 60 mph. When he got in front of the cheering stockholders, Tucker stopped the car—dubbed #1001—and put it in reverse. It backed up, thanks to the twelve-year-old Cord transmission the men had just finished rebuilding and adapting to the car.1 The audience roared with applause.2

  Once the demonstration was over, Tucker conducted some corporate business. After some speeches, various resolutions were put before the stockholders, who now had a vote in the company’s operation. Votes were conducted by voice, and the resolutions were all adopted with unanimous “Ayes!” from the crowd.3 Chicago newspapers noted the festive atmosphere and how it didn’t seem like a stockholders meeting. The seventeen hundred in attendance “asked not a single question about production, dividends, or other corporate matters.”4 Tucker did inform them that more cars were coming soon.5

  The Franklin engine turned out to be perfect for the Tucker ’48. Coupled with the rebuilt Cord 810 transmission, it created 166 horsepower. The engine only weighed 320 pounds and delivered an impressive 372 foot pounds of torque.

  * * *

  Tucker #1001 was not a mirage. The Tucker Corporation was gearing up for production. Body parts for cars are stamped on dies, and the Tucker ’48 would have fifty-two pieces die-stamped in-house on dies made by die makers in Detroit. Many of them were made of Kirksite, a less expensive but less durable material often used for shorter production runs because it wore out faster than steel. With the arrival of the dies, sheet metal was being fabricated and the other parts of the car were being procured. A pilot assembly line had been put together and Tucker employees were working out the bugs of mass production.

  With all the parts that went into the car, it was inevitable that there would be snags. Tucker had dithered on the steering wheel design, and by the time he made his decision, the vendor could not make them in time for the first cars made. Tremulis called some friends at Ford Motor Company asking if they had any quick solutions. Despite the obvious conflict of interest, a friend at Ford offered him a batch of slightly flawed steering wheels for the company’s Lincoln Zephyr luxury cars. They had blemishes making them unsuitable for a Lincoln, but Tremulis’s friend assured him that no one would notice. All he asked was that the steering wheels be replaced when the Tucker wheels became available. Soon, Tucker sedans rolled off the assembly line, steered by Lincoln Zephyr steering wheels.6

  Tucker received great press coverage for his shareholders event, but some were beginning to question the progress being made toward mass production. Tucker had now only produced two cars. Dealer News noted that Tucker’s “dream car” was still just a dream—and also pointed out that to make a profit, the car would likely have to retail for quite a bit more than its original promised price of $1,000.7 In this last point, the Dealer News was being disingenuous; the Tucker Corporation’s prospectus had clearly stated that the target price of the car had risen from $1,000 to between $1,800 and $2,000, not including shipping from Chicago.8

  Money was an issue, though, and not just with the car’s cost. The company was skimping on some of its purchases. When the first few models rolled off the line, they were made using some body panels made by vendors. If they were to hit the production figures they had touted publicly, they would need hundreds, and then thousands, of sets of body panels. Yet they had only ordered fifty.9 Could Tucker raise more money? He applied for a loan from the Reconstruction Finance Corporation but was denied.10

  A week later, Tucker announced that the company had lined up its steel supplies, one of the last pieces to the puzzle of mass-producing cars. The Tucker Corporation was attempting to purchase its own steel plant, but in the meantime it now had the steel necessary to build between 160 and 240 cars per day. In the same announcement, Tucker stated that the assembly line was being fine-tuned and there should be 125 cars completed by June 3, enough for each of the distributors to have one on hand by that time.11 Newsmen noticed that Preston Tucker often gave dizzying, and varying, numbers for expected production. In February, a month before the shareholders meeting, he told reporters to expect two hundred cars in June, followed by twenty-two hundred in July, thirty-four hundred in August, and sixty-five hundred in September. By April of the following year, Tucker said, the company would be churning out cars at the rate of twenty-five thousand a month.12

  * * *

  In the April issue of Tucker Topics, Fred Rockelman wrote that the conveyor system for the assembly line was nearly complete. Production was not months away but mere days away. He used a baseball metaphor: “We’re rounding third.”13 Home plate was in sight. Another piece in the same issue was a reprinted article from Automotive News, whose reporter had toured the plant and interviewed Preston Tucker. Saying it would be impossible for one man to successfully launch an endeavor of this magnitude, the writer said:

  However, there are notable exceptions. No. 1, of course, is Preston Tucker himself—ebullient, tall, good-looking—he gives the impression of a lone knight taking on the giants of the industry. At times he sounds crazy as a loon. After looking over the layout [of the plant], you wonder if maybe he isn’t crazy like a fox.14

  The article included photos of cars moving down the pilot assembly line, but the writer said that Tucker and his men were secretive about the finished product, not wanting to show any finished cars to the writer for fear of corporate espionage. Preston Tucker led the writer to believe that the Tucker ’48s were being built with the torque-converter drives and that other manufacturers had been sniffing around, trying to find out the secrets behind them.15

  Elsewhere in the newsletter were pieces on the annual stockholders meeting, the Tucker Export Corporation, and the hiring of Tucker’s former boss D. McCall White. Also included was a notice that the company had purchased Aircooled Motors, the manufacturer of the Franklin engine used in the revamped Tucker ’48. After finding out that Aircooled Motors was for sale, the corporation had bought it for $1.8 million on March 21, 1948.16 This provided the company with engines, as well as a stream of income from those it sold to Bell and others.17 It seemed a good investment even if the company hadn’t needed a supply of engines: according to Tucker, Aircooled had made a $398,000 profit the year before.18

  Finally, the latest issue of Tucker Topics reported on a weekly radio show Tucker would soon be presenting.19 Always seeking new
ways to get publicity, Tucker sponsored a program called Speak Up America, hosted by John B. Kennedy. It was a fifteen-minute-long talk show covering various issues of the day, and Preston Tucker read his own commercials during the show.20 Broadcast by ABC Radio, it was heard on eighty-five stations across the United States on Sunday afternoons at 4:00 eastern time. Some people wondered if the show would do better if it gave away prizes. Listeners would submit fifty-word comments on different topics drawn from the show, and a Tucker ’48 sedan would be given each week to the best answer received.21 Fifteen thousand letters soon poured into the show’s office.22

  With production proceeding and the publicity machine humming along nicely, the Tucker ’48 still had one major problem: it was far too expensive to build. The engines in the first few models built cost $5,000 apiece. Even if that were to be reduced dramatically—some thought a price of $1,500 was possible since Tucker owned the engine manufacturer—it still cost too much. And estimates for the cost of the rest of the car reached between $1,075 and $1,441.23 Clearly, these costs had to be reduced or the retail price would need to be raised. The latter option was not preferable to Tucker, who had promised his cars would be affordable. Tucker continued to hope he could drastically reduce his cost of production when he began manufacturing on the same scale as his biggest competitors in Detroit.

  The Accessories Program

  Despite having raised $15 million in a stock offering and another $2 million selling dealerships, the rising costs of production meant that the Tucker Corporation needed another infusion of cash. So Tucker launched a program unlike anything else ever done in the automobile world. He would sell accessories to the car buyers before they took delivery of a car. It was hare-brained on every level, yet it worked beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.

  The idea had originated with Cliff Knoble, the adman Tucker lured from New York. Knoble knew the average car buyer bought $600 of options and accessories for each new car purchased. If that held true for the Tucker ’48, perhaps there was a way to get that money sooner. Tucker could create a line of car accessories that customers could preorder and take delivery of before the cars were even built. Matching luggage, a dashboard radio, and seat covers would be made, sold, and shipped to customers right away. As an incentive, a control number would be assigned to each buyer giving him or her priority for delivery of a Tucker automobile. The earlier a person bought the accessory package from Tucker, the higher his or her name went on the list.1

  Early in May, a Chicago Herald-American reporter came to the plant and test-drove a Tucker ’48. He loved it. With Gene Haustein in the car with him, he got the car going 80 mph in the parking lot and hadn’t put it in high gear yet. It started to rain before he could see it doing 100 mph, but he had no doubt it could have, noting that “the car loafs along at 80 with the throttle half open.”2 The writer also stated the car had gone through many “evolutionary changes” since it was first announced but he had no problem with them. The car met all his expectations.

  In its May Tucker Topics, the company hinted that it had an exciting announcement for dealers. Fred Rockelman opened the issue with the story of how Preston Tucker had taken a production ’48 for a drive in Chicago and had returned to the plant with a crowd of fans following him, hoping for a better look at the car.

  “Details of one of the most important undertakings ever launched by the Tucker Corporation will be revealed in the next few weeks, a program which we are sure will be acclaimed by all our dealers and distributors.”3 The statement was attributed to Dulian, who noted that there were now 1,712 dealers and 80 distributors committed to selling Tucker automobiles.

  The accessories program was announced on May 17 at a dealers meeting in Chicago.4 The dealers were becoming anxious because they had no product to sell. They were invited to a hotel, where they heard updates on the progress of the car. Preston Tucker spoke and then turned the podium over to Knoble. Knoble outlined the accessories program to the dealers. He knew that many of the Tucker dealers had been used car dealers previously and that this would be their first new car franchise. At the time, used car selling was extremely competitive, and many dealers resorted to gimmicks and premiums to move cars. Knoble suspected the program would appeal to that segment of his audience, and he was right.

  The dealers were given the opportunity to buy accessories on the spot, which they did in huge numbers. Preston Tucker was so impressed he pulled Knoble aside and put him in charge of the accessories program, offering him a 1.5 percent commission on sales. Knoble headed out and did similar presentations around the country, eventually selling $3 million in accessories. Tucker’s net profit from the program was more than $1 million.5

  Critics laughed at the program, particularly the concept of Tucker selling luggage. What did that have to do with the car? Knoble pointed out it had everything to do with the car. The luggage was designed to fit into the car’s huge trunk—uniquely placed at the front of the car—and again Knoble was right. The luggage sold exceedingly well. Fifty thousand units were sold, raising almost $1 million.6

  The accessories program may have attracted some unwanted attention, however. Charles Pearson later argued that the program, as successful as it was, may have drawn heightened scrutiny from federal regulators. The scheme seemed too far-fetched to be honest. Was it legal? Could it have been an indication that the entire enterprise was simply out to squeeze as much money as possible from unsuspecting customers?7

  * * *

  Elsewhere in the May Tucker Topics, readers were introduced to Alex Tremulis, who stood before a small model of the ’48 accompanied by a story of the design team. Along with Philip Egan and a woman named Audrey Moore, Tremulis was credited with bringing the ’48 to production in one-tenth the time it would have taken a traditional manufacturer. (Audrey Moore’s credentials were as impressive as anyone’s on the team: she had worked for the famed industrial designer Raymond Loewy when he designed Studebakers.8) Tremulis took the opportunity to point out the advanced state of the car’s shape. “From one standpoint the Tucker is actually the first completely streamlined car ever built. Most manufacturers have succeeded in creating streamlined appearances only from certain perspectives. The Tucker ’48 is streamlined from all angles.”9 The piece stated that the three—Tremulis, Egan, and Moore—were already working on the Tucker ’50.

  Tucker Topics also introduced its readers to Secondo Campini, an Italian engineer who had been working with jet propulsion during World War II. Campini designed a plane that flew with a form of jet propulsion during the war but never got much beyond the prototype stage. Unaware that the Germans had flown functional jet aircraft several years before he had, Campini told many people, including Tucker, that his was the first operational jet aircraft when it made a few test flights. It is unclear if Campini exaggerated or if it was the editors of Tucker Topics, but the article claimed that Campini’s plane had flown in 1932 at a speed of 350 mph.10 Neither fact was true. He was, according to the article, “the world’s foremost authority on jet propulsion and the gas turbine.” Tucker Topics hinted that the Tucker Corporation was toying with the idea of putting a turbine engine into a car in the near future.11

  * * *

  Preston Tucker would never be accused of thinking small. The previous year, as he laid out his plans for the infusion of cash from the stock sale with his staff, one of the first items he sought was a steel plant. His advisors said it was unnecessary, but Tucker was worried about raw materials. He had problems getting modeling clay for his first model. What if other automakers interfered with his supply of steel? The WAA, which had leased him the plant in Chicago, also owned some steel plants. Tucker wanted one. After the fight with the housing administration and Lustron, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Instead of a cushy lease arrangement, he’d have to buy the steel plant outright. This time, though, he had the money.

  Still, in the months that followed, the acquisition process had bogged down once again. Originally the company had set its sights on
a government-owned blast furnace in Granite City, Illinois, which had been operated by Koppers Company Inc. during the war. When the WAA announced it was seeking bids on the $2.5 million plant, the Tucker Corporation furnished a bid of $2.751 million; several other companies submitted bids as well. The WAA canceled the auction unexpectedly, announcing that the plant had been reappraised and its actual fair market value was $3.25 million. Rather than renewing the auction, the WAA simply announced that the plant was being sold to a corporation that had been formed just a week before the initial bid process had begun. The sale price was announced as $3.255 million.

  Charles Pearson later wrote that Tucker was incensed. Litigation ensued, but the government got the case dismissed on the grounds of governmental immunity: the government can’t be sued for doing its job. One judge who heard an appeal of the case said, “The transactions in this case are surrounded by a pervasive and most offensive odor of skullduggery.”12

  Another plant—reportedly the world’s largest blast furnace, along with a coke plant—became available in Cleveland through the WAA shortly after. The WAA, probably because of criticism it had received from its previous disposal of plants, told bidders they needed to prove their ability to run the plant properly along with any bid submitted. Tucker purchased $100,000 worth of options on materials that would allow Tucker Corporation to begin operating the plant if it won the auction.13 He also put up $100,000 earnest money. Tucker was the high bidder, over Republic Steel, another company that had bid on the previous plant and lost. But the WAA announced that it was not going to merely give this plant to the high bidder. It wanted further proof that the plant would be run appropriately. This gave the WAA license to investigate each suitor and then pick from among them based on criteria only they understood.