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Was there a market for such a car? Sure, look at the way the imported car sales were soaring. Cole also had his own secret Chevy surveys to show that people were buying the imports not just to be different, but because they wanted a fairly economical car that was easy to handle and park. Would G.M. have to spend a fortune to build such a car? Not really. Cole had drawn up a plan showing how existing Chevy plants could be converted to handle the job. What about aluminum for the engine? Cole knew exactly where to get it—and at the right price. Months before, G.M. had closed a deal to buy large amounts of aluminum for pistons and other parts from a new Reynolds Metals plant at Massena, N.Y. Chevy also was building a foundry just a mile away, was going to cart the molten aluminum there from the nearby Reynolds plant, and make it into aluminum parts—at a drastic reduction in costs. Chevy could get much more aluminum to cast into blocks for the engine. But wouldn't a small car overturn G.M.'s huge market for big cars? Cole's answer: "If we don't hurry up and build this car, someone else will." For a clincher, Ed Cole took Red Curtice for a spin in the test model. Said Curtice, who was not easy to impress: "I think you've got something there Ed."
"I Won't Tell." With Curtice's backing, Cole's small car smoothly rode through G.M.'s board in December 1957. But secrecy remained just as tight, even though orders went out to toolmakers. To camouflage the project, Chevy asked them to deliver engine and body dies for a new "Holden," the car made by G.M.'s Australian subsidiary. In trial runs, G.M. tricked up test models with phony grilles, bumpers and side panels, with Porsche or English Vauxhall body shells, drove them more than 2,000,000 miles. One prototype spun through Colorado's rugged Rockies. At the wheel: Ed Cole.
Several months after Chevy got started, Ford and Chrysler cranked up their own small cars. Soon the small-car race broke into open, friendly needling between Cole and his neighbor, Chrysler Executive Vice President William Newberg. 48, who ramrods Valiant. "How about giving me a ride in that Corvair?'' asked Newberg one day. "Sorry, Bill, I can't," replied Cole. "C'mon, Ed, I won't tell anybody." Retorted Cole: "It's not that, Bill. Our little car is so good I'm afraid it would give you a heart attack."