In the years subsequent to World War II, the American public’s fascination with jets and rocket power grew alongside a growing hunger for high performance. While the brass at the Big Three were willing to explore the idea of melding the two together – resulting in the General Motors Firebird prototypes and the Chrysler Turbine experiment a few years later – no one was really willing to put the technology into the hands of the general public and let them run wild with it.
Turbonique’s radical approach to performance would catch the eye of Zachary Taylor Reynolds. An heir to the R.J. Reynolds Tobacco fortune, Zach was a notorious playboy with a penchant for things that went fast. And while this big block-powered Galaxie would have been quick enough for most right out of the box, Reynolds wanted more. A lot more.
Turbonique was strictly a mail order business. They advertised their wares in the enthusiast automotive magazines of the day, hoping to attract thrill-seeking drag racers who wanted to do something dramatically different with their cars. Among Turbonique’s three main product offerings – superchargers, rocket thrust engines, and rocket thrust drag axles – the latter proved to be the most ideally suited for drag strip applications. Their independently driven superchargers were a compelling option as well, particularly with Turbonique’s guarantee to “double your horsepower”. However, it also came with a warning not to run the unit for more than 5 minutes at time and only on engines with forged internals.
Born in Jonesboro, Georgia, on August 3rd, 1931, Clarence Eugene “Gene” Middlebrooks got his degree in mechanical engineering at Georgia Tech, and went on to help develop the propulsion system used on the Pershing missile program for aerospace contractor Martin-Marietta thereafter.
Unwilling to let his talents go to waste on a mere solid-fueled two-stage ballistic missile, the rocket scientist struck out on his own and founded Turbonique in Orlando, Florida, in 1962. Middlebrooks was determined to use his expertise in turbine technology to bring rocket propulsion to the consumer market.
But rather than designing products for the average Joe and moving up the food chain as the tech caught on, Middlebrooks took the opposite approach, building absurdly potent power adders for use in existing vehicles which could be purchased by mail order, and appealing directly to power-hungry enthusiasts through outlandish advertising claims posted in various automotive publications.
Through dyno testing, Turbonique backed up their claim of “double your horsepower” when they bolted up an AP supercharger system to a new 405 hp Chevy 409 and netted 835 horsepower.
But for those who still had a vestige of sanity, Turbonique’s mid-range offering was the sweet spot – the rocket powered drag axle.
This was the route that Reynolds opted to take when he decided to build what many would consider to be the ultimate Ford Galaxie 500, one which generated more than 1,200 horsepower with all systems firing while looking more or less like a garden variety 1960s gasser drag racer – provided you didn’t look under the rear end of the car.
The Tobacco King Rocket Car
For most enthusiasts of the day, a Ford Galaxie 500 with a warmed over 427ci FE block V8 swapped in in place of the original 390 V8 would have been enough. That wasn’t the case for Reynolds. With the financial means to do so, Reynolds set about making an absolutely brutal Galaxie drag car – and that was before the Turbonique Rocket Drag Axle was added to the mix.
Out back, Reynolds had a Turbonique axle outfitted to the car, which made 850 horsepower that was wholly independent of the beefed up 427 at the front of the car, though they would work in tandem to propel the car forward when the rocket axle was fired up.
Reynolds put just 3,611 miles on the Galaxie between 1967 and his untimely death in 1979, when he died in a plane crash. The Reynolds family left the Galaxie parked for years and eventually sold the car to a family friend in 1995. In a “moment of weakness” according to the cosigner, he decided to put the car up for bid at Mecum’s Indianapolis auction in 2008. But longer after signing over the vehicle to be auctioned off, the seller had a change of heart.
“What finally did it for me was when I was loading the car to bring it here, my nine-year-old son, who was very agitated, asked why I was selling it. I told him that we didn’t use the car, and that we had other collector cars. He said ‘Dad, you can replace any one of those. This one is unique, you can’t.’ That did it.”
As for Turbonique, perhaps it’s not surprising that the story doesn’t end on a positive note. Due to the numerous safety issues faced with rocket fuel and turbines as a form of locomotion in general, the NHRA effectively banned the use of Turbonique setups for drag racing in 1967 after a string of incidents.
The company closed up shop shortly after the case. An appeal made in 1972, where Middlebrooks claimed to be suffering from hypomania (apparently during most of the 1960s) was predictably rejected (though if you look up the definition of hypomania and disinhibition, it sounds like a pretty accurate diagnosis).
In the decades since, most of Turbonique’s performance hardware has been lost to the sands of time. Ordering rocket fuel through the mail would likely get you put on a government watch list today, and one of the only things more dangerous than strapping a rocket to your car is strapping a fifty year old rocket to your car. Still, we certainly wouldn’t mind getting to see one of Middlebrooks’ creations in action today, and with his handiwork being rediscovered in recent years, you never know what the future may hold.
Article courtesy of Street Muscle Magazine, written by Bradley Iger.