It is difficult to separate the Porsche 550 Spyder from the legend of actor James Dean, so why
don’t we get it all out of the way right now. On September 30, 1955, Dean, fresh off the film Giant, left George Barris’s shop in Los Angeles to go racing in Salinas, a farm town inland of Monterrey made popular by John Steinbeck. (Dean, of course, had recently starred in the movie of Steinbeck’s novel East of Eden, set in the same location.) The young movie actor was at the wheel of his Porsche 550 Spyder.
By that time, Dean had done more than a bit racing. A Porsche enthusiast, he had just traded his 356 for the racier, LeMans-winning 550 Spyder, and he was desirous of testing its mettle (and his own) on the track in Salinas. But as he drove toward the sun on that late Friday afternoon along Highway 46,Donald Turnupseed,a student at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, was driving home in his 1950 Ford. Read more . . .
“Hey, Vinnie, somebody hit your Firebird!” There was a time when General Motors was proud of the Firebird and wanted to see it thrive, instead of letting it die a slow, lingering death.
of American life is more than a tragedy; it is a sacrilege. Maybe, there’s no automotive brand as quintessentially “American” as Oldsmobile. Oldsmobile has been innovative, popular, smart, and fearless through the years since that day in 1895 when Ransom E. Olds and his partner Frank Clark got together to build a “horseless carriage.”
If it were a food, it would be the old fashioned macaroni and cheese. You see, in Dangerfield’s vernacular, Nash never gets no respect, huh? Automotive historians sing the praises of Peerless, Packard, and Pierce-Arrow. They wax eloquent over Bugatti, Isotta-Fraschini, and Hispano-Suisa. But Nash, well, Nash is treated like yesterday’s mashed potatoes.
to the breaking point by more than a half decade of armed conflict that left resources constricted, factories in rubble, and the labor force testy to get theirs after so many years of sacrifice.