(3 of 8)
One for Three. Basically, the new models not only look alike; as far as the midsection of the body is concerned, many are identical. The small Oldsmobile (the Futuramic 76), Pontiac and Chevrolet have the same body from windshield to rear window; Cadillac, the big Oldsmobile and Buick also share a body style.
In the same way that design now overlaps, so do prices. List f.o.b. prices on the 1949 Chevrolet range from $1,360 to $1,878; on the Pontiac from $1,721 to $2,722; the Oldsmobile from $1,764 to $3,338; the Buick from $1,787 to $3,797; the Cadillac from $2,840 to $5,253. Thus G.M.'s five divisions are competing among themselves.
Chrysler Bows. Last week their outside competitors were busy too. Studebaker was out with new, more powerful but basically unchanged Champions and Commanders. Hudson was pushing its "step-down" idea of a body cradled in the frame. Nash was plugging its "Airflyte" design with all four wheels hidden by the fender sheathing.
At week's end Chrysler Corp., although it will have no public showings for seven weeks, held a press preview in Detroit of its 1949 Chrysler, DeSoto, Dodge and Plymouth. (On the eve of the preview, Ford slyly held a party of its own. It had no new models to show; it just thought it a good time to entertain the press, and perhaps take the edge off Chrysler's party.)
In all four of its cars, Chrysler had increased headroom, seat width and wheel-bases, while lowering the roofs, cutting overall width and bumper-to-bumper length. Compared with most postwar cars, body lines were conservative. There were two brand-new models: Plymouth's Suburban, a metal station wagon that sleeps two, and a Dodge roadster with manual top and old-fashioned detachable plastic side curtains. With no frills or extras, it would be the cheapest Dodge. Chrysler had simplified its automatic fluid drive transmission, dubbed it Gyromatic, and made it regular equipment on DeSoto and Chrysler, optional on Dodge.
G.M.'s division heads eyed their competitors, but they weren't having any trouble selling their own cars—yet. Cadillac, for example, boasted a backlog of 113,000 orders and up to 17 months' wait for delivery; Chevrolet, 1,500,000, and up to a long two years—all depending on the dealer's allotment and backlog.
But the fat backlogs and long waits had disappeared in a hurry for many competitors (Kaiser, Frazer, Hudson, Lincoln). And with G.M. hoping in 1949 to make 10% more than the 2,048,019 cars & trucks it made in 1948, the buyer's market for G.M. was not far away either.
Man at the Wheel. No one knew this better than G.M.'s five division bosses and the man who keeps them pulling together with the purring power of a V-8—President Charles Erwin Wilson. A $236,000-a-year captain of industry, "C.E.," as his friends call him, is a reserved, blue-eyed boss who thinks fast, talks slow and never wastes his time pounding the desk. Slightly jowly, with a pleasant smile, he has neither bombast nor bulk (he is 5 ft. 10 in., 175 lbs.). He talks with a mild Midwest twang, walks with a slight stoop as if bucking a breeze. Both his tie and his crop of snow-white hair are usually a little askew, but his mind is as precise as an engineer's slipstick.