U.S. auto production came to a screeching halt in 1942 as car builders were directed to build equipment for the war effort (WW2). Limited production of some cars continued for government use, with most production capacity redirected to fighting apparatus. This 1942 Studebaker Champion is a “blackout” car, devoid of exterior chrome and unnecessary weight. This machine was restored a dozen years ago and is now being offered here on eBay by the St. Louis Car Museum. The opening bid of $19,920 has yet to be cast, much less the seller’s reserve having been met.
Studebaker was not exempt from the ban on building new cars for public consumption in 1942. It would not be until 1946 that consumers could again buy a new automobile and those were mostly warmed-over ‘42s. Studebaker built about 300 Champion sedans for the Civil Defense Auxiliary including this car, which we’re told was based out of their Chicago district. Its restoration was well done, but we wonder if the shiny Royal Blue was an original color as opposed to military drab green or grey. Like all other Champions, it was built with a 164 cubic inch inline-6 with a “3-on-the-tree” manual transmission.
Vehicles like this were built with a minimum of chrome or anything flashy that would attract attention at night, hence the “blackout” nickname. That meant bumpers and trim were painted and the headlights had “eyebrows” over them. Also, less weight was important to conserve fuel, so things like a spare tire and jack were jettisoned. Studebaker was already considered a fuel-efficient automobile brand, and these Champions were said to be capable of 27 mpg (likely on the road).
This Studebaker was “rescued and restored” in 2012 by a Military Vehicle Preservation Association (MVPA) member. We’re told that everything was redone to be period correct where possible. Once completed, it made the rounds to MVPA events, AACA shows, and appeared many times in various magazines and publications. The only thing that may not be perfect about the vehicle is that its radio doesn’t work. To round out the wartime aspects of the car, it comes with a mannequin dressed in a Civil Defense Auxiliary uniform from back in the day. If you’re looking for a classic car to show off that has historical significance, perhaps this old Stude is it!
That’s cool.
I think it’s pretty neat, but someone correct me, I don’t think it’s a “blackout” model. WW2 army staff cars were the real blackout ones, no spotlight or chrome trim, no car name, plain hubcaps, nothing. I believe this car, being a CD car, never saw combat, and more for a crisis back home. I believe the painted bumpers here was because of the chrome shortage needed for the war efforts. In fact, I read, new 1946 cars were delivered with a wood bumper until supply was re-established. It’s a nice find, not sure CD car would get the glitz something say Patton rode in, but an important piece of history none the less. As kids, we never knew if we were going to be blown to smithereen by the Russians, who probably felt the same way about us. Our parents never talked about it, in front of us, anyway. Remember in grade school, the “standing in the hallway”, arms overhead? A lot of good that would have done, or how about that CD symbol on AM radios, like by 540? In Milwaukee we had the “Nike” sites, and not the shoe either. 8 sites, I believe, in built 1956 with nuclear warheads(?) surrounding the city in case of attack. They were supposedly “decommissioned” in the 60s, and we used to ride our bikes to the sites. As kids, we had no idea what lie below those welded doors. Science fiction gave us a clue. Yes sir, it was a tense time for a kid.
Let’s hear your CD stories. Did you know, the loudest CD siren made in the 50s was hemi powered and could be heard 20 miles away. It was never used.
I like this blackout trim level. My guess is this is stateside war level military spec. Not a lot of flash, no chrome or very little, as stated due to war effort. I do know a little about the Nike program. Started in the early fifties, Nike Ajax had a two thousand pound conventional warhead designed to explode in close proximity to Soviet bombers, replaced by Nike Hercules, that one had the nuclear warhead. The underground launch facilities stored twelve. Decommissioned in the seventies. Doors welded shut, some turned into parks, most left to sit. I restored a Nike for the Park service, amazing piece of kit. Currently hanging at the visitor center on George’s Island Boston Harbor.
There is a hemi powered CD siren in Don Garlit’s museum in Florida. Way cool
Early ‘46 Hudsons were delivered with 2X4 ( maybe 4X4) bumpers. When real bumpers became available, you went back to the dealer for installation.
I remember the drills when we were instructed to duck under our school desks and pulled down black shades. A lot of good either would have provided in the event of a nuclear blast.
This is very cool. I have to figure the starting price is high though, because the St. Louis Car Museum (which is just a dealer, not a museum) always asks a premium for its cars.
I hope Harrison reads through this morning. His stories are often quite delightful. Thanks.
Howard A…you are correct. Blackout cars are called that because of their painted rather than chromed trim. The few thousand new cars produced in the weeks between when the supply of shiny parts ran out and early February of 1942 when US passenger car production ended entirely are known as “blackout specials”. Normally shiny parts were painted black, gray, olive drab or similar dark color.
640
1240
“Conalrad”
IIRC
The last 1942 civilian cars had painted trim instead of chrome. Sometimes, chrome pieces were painted over. This Studebaker fits the criteria of a blackout car.
Awwwww….I’m so tempted. It’ll go great with my 42 GPW…..
I recall bomb drills as a kid in the 60s. Similar to tornado drills except instead of being crouched in the hallway you were under your desk. I guess they didn’t expect you to survive and the seating chart would help identify your crisp remains.
Compare this to the “sacrifice” consumers made during the pandemic when they couldn’t have a heated seat or steering wheel.
Other than, Hitler’s Mercedes, Ike’s staff car and Jeeps , who cares about a WW2 car at $20k ? Civil Defense didn’t show up until ’49 or ’50 when Rooskies got the bomb, so is this some kind of tribute to the era?
Found my old man’s CD i.d card from 1943, he was a 16 yr. Old volunteer, same CD triangle symbol. My sister told me he drove a Dodge Ambulance with Same symbol on door during drills. So older than ’49.
Like Nelson I remember crouching under my desk at school during air raid drills. Should the unthinkable have happened; well fairly sure the desk wouldn’t have helped much. Another charming feature of the Cold War era were fall out shelters. My parents were interested enough in this to go visit one that had been built in the basement of a new house. My little brother and I thought it would be really neat to have one. All stocked with bottled water, canned goods and blankets. We figured it would be our personal clubhouse. The ‘rents never did build one though. I wonder what the snowflake children of today would think about hiding under their desks. Probably have to get counseling. This old Studebaker is a nice piece of history and should find a collector that will be interested in it. Who can really say what this is worth. A belated thanks from the son of a WW2 veteran to those who paid the ultimate price at Pearl Harbor eighty two years ago last week. GLWTS.
Snowflake children today? You mean the ones getting shot at and killed while just attending school? How many times did you have a active shooter drill while in school?
Well, Mike, I’ll tell ya’, while we never encountered anything like an active shooter, rest assured, we were plenty scared when that siren went off. I’m with Carbob, initiate a drill like that today, not sure what the response would be. I believe the standing in the hallway, was considered better than a classroom roof caving in, but we all knew, better to grab our knees and kiss our butt goodbye. The amazing thing, is it was all for nothing.
The dash and steering wheel look just great, gold color and white wheel.
Beautiful car!
I had a 1942 Studebaker Champion coupe here for quite awhile. Very light weight car, and looked quite a bit like a Willys. I kept raising the price to detour anyone from buying it. Finally someone stepped up and paid my “I don’t really want to sell it price” and it went to Kalispell Montana or somewhere close.
Hello, Everyone!!! Thank you so much for the compliment, Matthew Dyer! How nice of you to look forward to my comments! Howard A, when I read your first post, I was going to provide you with the Conelrad Alert frequencies of 640 and 1240 kilocycles; however, as I read on, I found that Anthony H. Tellier had beat me to it. I still remember those frequent tests of the Conelrad alert system interrupting whatever I was listening to, and, “…had this been an actual alert, you would have been instructed [or, was it directed?] to tune to 640 or 1240 on your radio dial for further information…”. The radio I use every day (which I bought in 1961) has those markings. 1240-WSNY in Schenectady, New York, used to advertise that they were the Conelrad Alert station for the Capitol District (Albany, Schenectady, Troy); but the 250 watts they had back then barely made it to Albany during the day, and never at night. Union College in Schenectady operated their WRUC on 640 kcs. with low power carrier-current, to be heard on campus only (though their signal leaked-out into surrounding blocks), and they, too, made something of being a Conelrad facility in case of emergency. The State University of Albany also operated a low power carrier-current station on 640 kcs., WSUA. WRUC at Union College claimed to be the first radio station ever to broadcast regularly in the United States, well before either KQV or KDKA in Pittsburgh, operated with the technical assistance of local General Electric before G.E. established 790-WGY (moved to 810 in 1941). WGY, no longer connected with General Electric, remains to-day as one of our Nation’s major radio stations. General Electric also pioneered with television in 1928, using a mechanical scanning system to transmit a tiny picture lacking detail — but it was TELEVISION! And now, the once grand General Electric in Schenectady is a shadow of its former self. But their iconic sign, still using incandescent bulbs, is done in red and green this time of the year, and the #890 expressway runs right by it. I do not live in Schenectady or the Capitol District, though I still get back there every now and then: totally changed from what it was 70-odd years ago… I should add that I always liked the 1942 DeSoto, with its hideaway “blackout” headlights: they were uncommon enough in 1942 to be notable — but when was the last time that you saw one of those art deco beauties on the road? The very close resemblance between 1940 and 1941 Plymouths and DeSotos always amused me, rather. Of course, Plymouth and DeSoto were sold be the same dealers back then. It seemed that 1941 cars in general lasted nearly “forever”… until they were gone by about 1980. Cars before the late 1950s looked “normal”, and folks DRESSED-UP to go out “motoring”. We had “filling stations”, where an attendant filled your tank at 17.9 cents a gallon, checked your oil, cleaned your windshield, and offered you free road maps. You shopped downtown, and you never thought of being robbed or shot: you carried cash. Norman Rockwell’s America.
Thanks Harrison, and TV too, that “Emergency Broadcast System” symbol came on, right when Gilligan was about to see Ginger in the shower. ( they didn’t get along offset) When I think of what went into building those Nike sites, and all the preparedness and basically all for nothing, it shows how fear can grip a nation.
Ah yes, the cold war, the Russians are coming, the Russians are coming!
In the mid-1950’s, I was a teenage volunteer in the Air Force Civil Defense Service’s Ground Observer Corps. GOC posts were usually located on top of the tallest building in the area and equipped with some 10 x 50 binoculars and a direct phone line to the nearest Filter Center. Calls were then forwarded to Air Defense Command’s interception centers. We had to report all multi- engine aircraft giving direction of flight, estimated altitude (medium or high) and anything unusual about the aircraft.
I recall one day when another observer on the same watch spotted a southbound flight travelling very fast (IIRC he said, “hauling A__”) at a very high altitude. We couldn’t determine the number of engines. but, agreed that it was very high. That resulted in two Air force interceptors taking off from a nearby commercial airport where a squadron was stationed. Some Air Force brass showed up at our next GOC review/meeting and met individually with the three of us who were on duty at the time of the sighting. Never heard anything more about it.
The GOC program shut down a couple of years later being replaced by improved Air Force radar systems.
Ah! — the days of the Soviet scare! Sputnik, anyone?
Yep, the good old days.
Remember the sonic booms ?????
Sure DO!!! In 1957 and 1958, sudden sonic booms would make you jump out of your skin! We already were on-edge, what with bomb-shelters and other evidence of national panic over “the atomic bomb” and now Russia beating us into space with a satellite. It was a time obsessed with science fiction and imagined “space” adventures and “Martians” — we can smile at that now. Do you remember looking up at the night sky, away from city lights, to see Sputnik passing overhead? Considering the small size of that thing, it was amazing that we could actually SEE it!
crazy times, eh?
Aren’t ALL times a little “crazy”? After all, beginning in 1955, I bought all of the Crazy Otto records (the first one says “Happy Otto”). For those younger readers, “Crazy Otto” was a German concert pianist, Fritz Schulz-Reichel, who developed a method for making a regular piano sound like an out-out-tune barrel house or old bar-room piano, and he played sparkling arrangements of familiar old tunes on this slightly “off”-sounding piano — and in 1955, when his German recordings made it into the U.S., he was a runaway hit — so much so, that American pianists (notably, Johnny Maddox and “Knuckles” O’Toole) copied the “Crazy Otto” style. The fad lasted less than a year, then the American public moved on to other things. But I remained a fan and bought Crazy Otto’s subsequent records long after he no longer was “on the hit-parade charts”. Anyway, if you are curious, check Crazy Otto recordings out on-line, and you’ll quickly catch-on to what he was all about. That first “Happy Otto” Decca 78 had “Glad Rag Doll” on one side, and “Smiles” on the other: start there, and you’ll come away with a smile, wanting more. “In The Mood” is another c recommendation, if you want to be drawn into his infectious fun.
Aren’t ALL times a little “crazy”? After all, beginning in 1955, I bought all of the Crazy Otto records (the first one says “Happy Otto”). For those younger readers, “Crazy Otto” was a German concert pianist, Fritz Schulz-Reichel, who developed a method for making a regular piano sound like an out-out-tune barrel house or old bar-room piano, and he played sparkling arrangements of familiar old tunes on this slightly “off”-sounding piano — and in 1955, when his German recordings made it into the U.S., he was a runaway hit — so much so, that American pianists (notably, Johnny Maddox and “Knuckles” O’Toole) copied the “Crazy Otto” style. The fad lasted less than a year, then the American public moved on to other things. But I remained a fan and bought Crazy Otto’s subsequent records long after he no longer was “on the hit-parade charts”. Anyway, if you are curious, check Crazy Otto recordings out on-line, and you’ll quickly catch-on to what he was all about. That first “Happy Otto” Decca 78 had “Glad Rag Doll” on one side, and “Smiles” on the other: start there, and you’ll come away with a smile, wanting more. Crazy Otto’s take on Glenn Miller’s “In The Mood” is another recommendation, if you want to be drawn into his infectious fun.
Ended with 0 bids.