The Studebaker Sceptre was one of a cluster of cars proposed by the famed Milwaukee industrial designer Brooks Stevens in 1962-63 to replace the automaker’s aged product line. This one, the Sceptre, was presented to CEO Sherwood Egbert and company management in April of 1963 as a 1966 replacement for the Gran Turismo Hawk, which also happened to be a Brooks Stevens design. (Read about the GT Hawk here.)

Unfortunately, the Studebaker Corporation was broke and nearly out of options by the spring of ’63, and it would be forced to suspend its operations in the U.S. before the end of the year. For us, it’s a shame the Sceptre never went into production in South Bend. We don’t know if the striking sedan could have been a success, but it sure would have made an impression.

​Stevens had the lone Sceptre prototype constructed by Carrozzeria Sibona-Basano of Turin, a little-known and short-lived (only five years, 1962-66) but highly regarded Italian coachbuilder that was also responsible for Virgil Exner’s stunning Mercer Cobra. Directed by Pietro Sibona, formerly of Ghia, and the brothers Elio and Emilio Basano, the company produced the beautifully detailed prototype on a Studebaker chassis for $16,000, a remarkable bargain in those days.

The automotive designs of Brooks Stevens could range from the basic to the baroque, observers have noted. We think the Sceptre is one of the cleanest and most elegant examples of the lot, with simple visual elements that cleverly complement each other. The distinctive front end featured an electric-razor grille with a Sylvania Light Bar system to illuminate the roadway.

​The rear-end styling includes an ingenious and useful clamshell trunk opening, while the broad C pillars, with panels of polarizing glass, are a stylized representation of the formal roof Stevens used on the GT Hawk and his reskinned Brazilian Aero Willys. A Sylvania light bar is also used at the rear, but hidden behind a full-width ruby plastic lens.

The cabin, below, is modern and Italianate in form, with black and gold vinyl trim and a large, airy greenhouse flooded with light. The thermometer-type speedometer and instruments are housed in plastic pods in the top of the dash, while the passenger side features a large vanity area with folding mirror.

Although the Studebaker Corporation ultimately failed to survive, the last-gasp Spectre prototype has managed to stick around, fortunately. The car resided in the Brooks Stevens Automotive Museum in Mequon, Wisconsin for many years, and these days can be seen at the Studebaker National Museum in South Bend, Indiana.

​Preston Tucker viewed failure as a necessary milestone on the road to success. A year after a jury found him not guilty of charges brought by the Securities and Exchange Commission, Tucker was hard at work on a new automobile, courting potential investors in Brazil. Pneumonia, a complication of lung cancer, claimed his life before the car progressed beyond the design stage, but Rob Ida Concepts may soon be bringing the one-of-none Tucker Carioca to life.

Tucker’s initial trips to Brazil ended in disappointment. Though investors were willing to back his proposed low-cost automobile, in return they expected all design work to be carried out in Brazil. Tucker refused, a decision that was likely influenced by the instability of the Getúlio Vargas government as much as Brazil’s distance from his home in Michigan.

Determined to forge ahead with the project, Tucker enlisted the help of industrial designer Alexis de Sakhnoffsky, who penned an aerodynamic boattailed coupe reminiscent of the original Tucker Torpedo concept, but on a smaller scale. Like the earlier Tucker concept, the coupe that would later carry the Carioca name featured an air-cooled rear-mounted engine, headlamps that moved with the front wheels (supplemented by one that remained fixed), a padded dash and removable windshield for added safety, and independent suspension.

Unlike the Tucker 48, the Carioca would ride on a wheelbase similar to the smallest domestic cars of the day. Power would come from a four-cylinder engine (also horizontally opposed) instead of a six-banger, and an output of 130 hp was planned. Given a projected weight of less than 2,000 pounds, performance would have been spirited, another design goal that Tucker had in mind. Simplicity was the order of the day as well, with the Carioca’s instrumentation consisting of an oversized speedometer, surrounded by warning lamps for fuel level, oil pressure, temperature, and current.

​Believing that caked-on mud and dirt impeded performance and handling, the Carioca was designed to use easily removable (and hence, easily cleaned) cycle fenders. In fact, the whole car could be described as “easily removable,” since it was meant to be assembled by the buyer from supplied components. Alternatively, Tucker envisioned establishing a network of independent garages and dealers who could assemble the $1,000 coupe for a set fee of $60, and would later act as authorized service centers should repair be needed. To keep costs as low as possible, the Carioca was to use as many off-the-shelf components as possible, meaning that only body panels would require stamping or in-house production.

In January 1956, the political climate in Brazil improved significantly with the election of Juscelino Kubitschek, or “JK” as he was commonly referred. A supporter of Tucker, JK once again offered incentives if the car was built in Brazil, and Tucker reconsidered. His Ypsilanti tool company, while profitable, didn’t generate the kind of revenue needed to design and build the Carioca. Brazil, perhaps, was where Tucker needed to be for his automotive second chance to become a reality.

By that time, however, Tucker was gravely ill with lung cancer, which his doctors in Michigan had essentially deemed inoperable. Seeking alternative treatments, Tucker found a doctor in Brazil who claimed to have great success in treating cancers without surgery or the favored radium therapy of the day, so Preston and his wife Vera flew back and forth to Rio de Janeiro for his treatments. In late August 1956, and against his doctor’s wishes, the Tuckers returned to the United States. The travel weakened Tucker further, who then reportedly weighed half of his former 200 pounds, and he was admitted to Beyer Memorial Hospital in Ypsilanti. On the day after Christmas 1956, he succumbed to pneumonia, a side effect of his lung cancer, at age 53.

The Carioca may have died with Preston Tucker, but for the drive and ambition of Rob Ida and his father, Bob. After completing the restoration on Howard Kroplick’s Tucker 48, chassis 1044, Rob Ida Concepts has resumed work on the Tucker Carioca, a project last referenced by the shop in 2011.

This time around, there’s another Tucker involved in the mix as well. Sean Tucker, Preston Tucker’s great-grandson and an automotive engineer by trade, will be working with Rob on the design and creation of the Carioca. Details are still being sorted, but teasers appearing on Rob Ida’s Facebook page hint that an air-cooled four-cylinder Franklin aircraft engine may be adopted for the project.

Article courtesy of Hemmings Daily, written by Kurt Ernst.

More than once, General Motors played with the idea of transforming the sporty Corvair sedan into a real two-place sports car. Here’s the first official effort, the 1961 Sebring Spyder. 

​Among other things, GM styling boss Bill Mitchell was a sports car enthusiast. And like any sports car guy, he could see that Chevrolet’s Corvair sedan provided all the necessary components to create a real two-place sports car: air-cooled flat six, a rear transaxle, a light and compact chassis. Eliminate the back seat, add some authentic sports car styling elements, and there you have it—the Corvair Sebring Spyder, a proper sporting two-seater.

Carrying the internal GM designation XP-737, the Sebring Spyder was created by shortening a production 1961 Corvair floor pan some 15 inches, eliminating the rear seat region and shortening the wheelbase from 108 to 93 inches. (This same shortening technique was used on another GM two-seat concept around that time, the Pontiac Tempest Monte Carlo we featured here.)  Racy split windscreens and a fiberglass tonneau section with a center divider and twin headrests closed out the upper bodywork.

​Racing car accoutrements included a custom dash with full instruments, wire wheels, rear brake ducts, and petite split bumperettes front and rear. Initially, a Paxton centrifugal supercharged was installed, but when the turbocharged Monza Spyder engine became available for ’62, a substitute powerplant was swapped in. Wearing a bright coat of candy apple red paint with white racing stripes, the Sebring Spyder made the rounds of the auto shows and appeared at the annual June Sprints at Road America in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin. In November of 1961, the Corvair two-seater appeared on the cover of Car and Driver magazine.

​The Sebring Sprint was scrapped in 1966, the official story goes, but it launched a string of similar Corvair-based sports car and GT concepts starting with the Sebring Super Spyder of 1962. (The Super Spyder still exists and can be found at the GM Heritage Collection.)  Meanwhile, the Sebring Spyder’s split bumperettes found immortality of their own. Cal Custom, the famed Los Angeles hot rod parts purveyors, offered knockoffs of the attractive design (below), and the pieces are highly prized by Corvair enthusiasts today.

​Here’s a rare find: a nicely preserved 1963 factory film covering the history of the Chrysler Turbine program and the introduction of the sensational Turbine Ghia prototypes. 

For this awesome film we thank the Detroit Historical Society, where it has been safely preserved in the organization’s Detroit History Video Archive. Originally produced by the Chrysler Corporation in beautiful color with Hollywood-quality production values, the film tells the story of the automaker’s passenger car turbine program, from its inception in March of 1954 to the introduction of the sensational Chrysler Turbine Ghia prototypes by company president Lynn Townsend on October 29, 1963.

Narrator of the 20-minute film, gifted with the bold title Tomorrow is Today, is Art Gilmore, a familiar voice to baby boomers raised on 1960s television. The announcer on countless TV series and specials in the golden age of TV, Gilmore often served as the voice of Chrysler in the automaker’s commercial presentations. Memorable scenes in our film-to-video include:

+   A simple but functional animated tutorial on turbine engine theory and operation

+   Chrysler’s rarely filmed vice-president of design Elwood Engel sketching out the basic Turbine Ghia shape on his artist’s pad

+   A visit with the father of Chrysler’s turbine program, George J. Huebner, who was also a key participant in the Chrysler missile program

+   Beautiful footage of the Turbine Ghia in testing on the big 5.0-mile oval at Chrysler’s Chelsea Proving Grounds.

+   Chrysler president Lynn Townsend introducing the 1963 turbine test program with selected consumers.

Of the 55 Ghia-bodied Chrysler Turbine cars produced (five engineering prototypes and 50 consumer test cars) only nine examples still exist, most of them in non-running condition. (Check our tag cloud on the main page for more Chrysler Turbine stories.) Here’s a choice opportunity to learn more about these rare and beautiful cars and see them in action. Video below.

​When you think back to the way things were, you begin to understand just how obscenely over-the-top this Corvette creation was actually engineered to be. When the base model Corvette was capable of only 250 horsepower and pumped-up versions of the Callaway B2K (405hp) and ZR-1 (375-405hp) were deemed supercars and “The King of The Hill.” Anything that added the additional horsepower of another complete Corvette on top of either of them was in a word – excessive.

But, when you’re fresh from a decade chock-full of shoulder pads and leg warmers, a little over the top is barely enough to put a blip on the radar screen. So, the mad scientists in GM’s Corvette skunkworks devised a plan. They caught wind that Dodge was building a vicious beast of a car, one that would bite any competitor, and sometimes, its owner if they weren’t careful. With a hulk of a V10, each one of those 400 horses it contained under its long-swoopy hood would surely run for their lives if given the chance. Somehow, even the King of The Hill’s 375 and later 405hp were left wanting.
The horsepower war was definitely starting to march to the chest-thumping drum of the Viper crowd and something needed to be done to wrest the attention back to the Bowtie camp. We would love to have been a fly on the wall when a true enthusiast of an engineer, somewhere in a board meeting, started a sentence with, “What if we…?” We’re sure a few pocket protectors melted after hearing about V12 engines and stretching their halo Corvette eight inches to fit it all in. Somehow, the stars aligned, a Corvette wound up eight inches longer and the bean counters found a way to pay for it all.

​Corporate officers aren’t in the business to pay for ego embellishments, so there had to be another reason to divert funds to create such a beast. That came in the form of durability testing. With a relatively new drivetrain to contain the power output of the new LT5 engine, engineers continued the conversation by asking how much more it could contain. The new ZF-designed 6-speed transmission was proving itself behind factory horsepower ratings and thanks to the efforts of GM engineers and several other outside sources, was found capable of corralling as many ponies as this behemoth’s V12 engine could muster.

To put a V12 in anything, you must first have a V12. That part came easy for Ryan Falconer Racing Engines of Chino Valley, Arizona. Their engines have found their way into street rods, trucks and even scaled-down, air racing P-51 Mustang aircraft. While the all-aluminum V12 is based on the small-block Chevy engine, fitting it into a C4 Corvette took a little more space management, thanks to the folks at SportsFab in Wixom, Michigan. They stretched the entire front of the car the necessary eight inches to fit another fifty-percent more small-block under the clam-shell hood. The entire subframe and hood were stretched, with evidence of the additional length most notable in the side gills area. Even with the addition of four more cylinders and eight inches to the car’s length, the weight of the vehicle is reportedly only 100 pounds more than the factory version, thanks to the V12’s all-aluminum block.
When the car was originally built, signs of excessiveness oozed out through those side gills in the form of black-coated side-pipes that neither hinted at noise abatement nor cared for emissions compliance. Over time, the furry knuckles were scrubbed and a complete under-car exhaust replaced the raucous boom tubes. Still, with over 600 horsepower and 680 lb/ft of torque, there’s plenty of grunt left over when the tall, skinny pedal is punched. True to this car’s nature, the Falconer Racing Engine’s website unapologetically states, “We do not perform any work on emissions-controlled engines or vehicles.”