General Motors, Decline and Fall,

1980 – 2009

William Sundwick

Founded in Flint, Michigan in 1908, the corporation that ushered in the automobile age in America and came to dominate the nation’s industrial economy by the 1970s, declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy just after celebrating its centennial.

What happened?

In 1980, journalist/folklorist Ed Cray published his history of that corporation, Chrome Colossus: General Motors and Its Times. GM then held a 46 per cent share of the domestic U.S. auto market. Cray notes it had been over 50 per cent in the early to mid-1960s, inviting threats of anti-trust action from Congress, amplifying anger at GM manufacturing decisions concerning safety and lethargic pursuit of emissions reduction. The Boards of Directors in those days were confident they could ride over these assaults. They were right -- so long as sales and employment were strong and stock valuation high. I certainly felt no insecurity growing up as a teenager in a Flint GM family!

But there was an unseen threat building, starting in the 1970s, which should have foretold a deepening challenge to GM’s place in the automotive market.

It came from Japan, with its much younger automobile industry looking toward export markets, not just in the U.S., but around the world. The first Toyotas and Datsuns appeared on the West Coast in the late 1950s. A curiosity at first with little penetration even in California. But that penetration grew and went nationwide by the mid-70s. GM management did recognize that there was something peculiarly competitive about Japanese manufacturing. They sought to learn more about it via partnership with Toyota. NUMMI (New United Motors Manufacturing, Inc.) was formed in the early ‘80s at a closed GM plant in Fremont, California (since sold to Tesla). It produced both Chevrolets and Toyotas side-by-side on the same assembly line.

But NUMMI failed to change “The General.” What General Motors couldn’t understand was that the secret of Japanese manufacturing, and growing preference of U.S. consumers, had nothing to do with efficiency of the machinery in the plant. It was not the “culture” of employees (the old GM workers were rehired in Fremont). Instead, it was mainly the culture of management. The Fremont plant was run differently from other GM assembly plants, following the Japanese model. But apparently, corporate management failed to notice a fundamentally different job design. Workers in Fremont rotated among many different jobs, rather than simply tightening the same bolt every day for an eight-hour shift on thousands of cars.

GM had advance warning of this problem from the wildcat strike at Lordstown, Ohio in the early ‘70s – where sabotage led to slowdowns and generally low production quality of the new “import killer” small car launched there, the Chevrolet Vega. Production rates were punishing, workers took it out on the product. Yet corporate management took no notice. After the “experiment” at NUMMI, Japanese style “relational management” never spread to other plants. The Vega’s design was considered flawed, too, not merely its manufacturing quality. General Motors could not see its employees as anything more than cost centers, whether hourly and salaried engineers. The public could see the effects.

“Corporate culture” has become a popular trope over the last thirty years. It probably had its origin in the sad story of General Motors’ decline. The corporation had its beginning in the early days of the automobile, in an environment analogous to how we thought of Silicon Valley in the 1980s. It was where entrepreneurial ventures based on engineering advances were the foundation of economic growth. Billy Durant, the founder of the corporation, was the embodiment of that entrepreneurial, risk-all, American myth that surrounded figures like Steve Jobs in later times. Durant’s genius (some would call it recklessness) was his willingness to take a chance on a bevy of garage tinkerers he met in Michigan. The first of them was Flint mechanic David Buick, struggling with his own version of a horseless carriage. His Buick automobile was the brand that started General Motors. Durant, however, did not build the GM corporate culture. The myth of that industrial spirit was, instead, created by Alfred P. Sloan. Sloan led an ever more centralizing corporate Board through the 1920s and 1930s. The stable of brands assembled by Durant and his early associates had all been managed independently at the engineering and production level. They always had shared technology and parts, but Sloan made them mere “divisions,” subservient to the General Motors Board of Directors, directed jointly from Detroit and Wall Street. Sloan was the archetype modern corporatist.

Sloan organized the corporation around profit centers and marketing concepts. Any original ideas for products or engineering had to clear rigorous financial hoops – the “bean counters.” The overwhelming strength of the industrial engine this strategy created caused General Motors to be perceived as a key factor for allied victory when World War II came. Its then-president, William S. Knudsen, became FDR’s head of the War Production Board.

But, after the war, that old, inherently conservative, midwestern corporate culture returned -- unable to focus its marketing on anything but the ego-enhancing product differentiation that Sloan had pioneered starting in the 1920s. The five automotive brands that GM successfully hawked during the postwar years (Chevrolet, Pontiac, Buick, Oldsmobile, and Cadillac) were distinguished mostly by size and flash – what would today be called “bling.” All were built on a similar platform with more engineering in common than unique. Chevrolets and Cadillacs were built during the period to be fundamentally the same, different enough only to make a convincing argument that the higher-priced brand was somehow “better.” This was, of course, illusion – manufacturing standards and quality control were identical at all GM plants.

GM corporate culture could not grasp the reason for the increasing success of Japanese imports through the 1970s and ‘80s. It was not their cars’ designs, but a combination of several factors. There was the above-mentioned relational style of management in plants (and with suppliers); the uncomfortable fact that legacy costs were low at the much younger Japanese firms (not as many retirees collecting pensions and benefits); and, yes, a less risk-averse product-planning style, greater willingness to take chances on new designs without the relentless bottom-line calculations, the Wall Street side, that dominated GM decision-making. It was the old company, Toyota the young company!

When the UAW chose to strike General Motors in 2007, the walkout lasted three days. But three days lost production was not enough to change GM’s ways. Market share in the U.S. by then was down to only 20 per cent, a far cry from thirty years earlier. The public had caught on, even if management had not. GM was a global enterprise, but European market share was declining as well, and China was just getting started. South American (primarily Brazilian) operations were significant, but not on the scale of North American or European. When Wall Street was hit by the 2008 crash, the General finally took off his stars and filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2009, the corporation’s 101^st anniversary. Only a massive U.S. government bailout saved GM from liquidation.

Arising from the ashes, the “new” General Motors, General Motors Company, LLC, promised to be leaner and better – not necessarily meaner. But global market share, even after selling off subsidiaries, and shuttering brands (Hummer, Opel, Pontiac, Saab, Saturn, others), has not revived over the ensuing decade. By 2019, U.S. market share had eroded even further, to about 17 per cent. Had the General learned anything?

CEO Mary Barra has flirted with new products, especially electric vehicles, and claims the company will transition completely to EVs (well, 70 per cent by 2040), but we’ll see. The plug-in hybrid Chevy Volt was discontinued in 2019, with no replacement named. Lordstown, site of the painful wildcat strike decades earlier, was not reconfigured, but closed – then sold to a start-up who will manufacture all-electric pickup trucks there soon. Will the GM Cruise Division, formed to manufacture autonomous vehicles at its Hamtramck plant, ever see the light of day?

If I were a prudent investor, I would not buy GM stock.

Next Step in Car Shopping

Advance to the Test Drive?

William Sundwick

This year’s Washington Auto Show was in April. Held later than last year, it began to push into 2020 model year marketing territory. Nevertheless, it provided a useful opportunity to further explore the 15 vehicles that had found a place in my Crossover Shopping spreadsheet for 2019. They were all there, under one big roof at the Walter Washington Convention Center.

Indeed, planning our Friday evening outing to the show forced a decision: which stands to visit among the 15 contestants? My boredom with the process, after three years, made it easy to cancel two manufacturers from our schedule, and my wife readily agreed; we wouldn’t bother with Hyundai or Mitsubishi.

That still left a heavy burden of covering seven other stands on two floors in less than four hours before the show closed at 10:00 P.M. (We literally forgot one important display, Nissan, despite our intentions).

What we learned from this year’s show allowed us to reduce our 15 original entrants to five finalists. Each of the five comes from a different manufacturer, so advancing to the test drive, step four of my systematic process of shopping for a new car, would require some time – visiting five different dealerships.

First, the eliminations from the original list of 15 – Hyundai primarily because the Santa Fe, although new for 2019, struggles to match competitors’ fuel economy ratings, and has nothing else to set it apart from them. Mitsubishi, I feel, is still a questionable investment for the future, with reviews panning its quality and reliability. Beyond those two makes, which didn’t even warrant our attention at the show, those we saw also allowed us to eliminate more.

Scratch everything from GM – Buick, Chevrolet, and GMC – mostly due to brand image for Buick and GMC (my wife is sensitive to what sits in our driveway, no trucks, no stodgy Buick), and size/style for the Chevy Equinox (it squeaks in on the low end of my threshold for cargo volume).

Going for style is probably shallow in a new car purchase, but two eliminations were primarily due to styling. Both the Equinox and new Toyota RAV4 were, in comparison to competitors, well … ugly! The Equinox’s bustled rear quarter combined with squarish roof line just rubbed me the wrong way, reminding me of a pop-up camper. And, the RAV4, while entirely new from last year, looks like (wait for it!) a Toyota. The previous generation RAV4 had a

pleasant appearance much like its hot-selling competitors, not so this new version. Often, over the years, Toyota styling has been disturbing, very angular, depending more than others on frivolous details and faux-aggressiveness – the new RAV4 fits that unfortunate mold perfectly. It also seemed to have a cheaper interior, practical perhaps, but lacking the upscale feel of many competitors.

I also had no problem eliminating some of the larger contenders. After seeing them at the show, both my wife and I decided we could do without the Ford Edge or Subaru Outback. Yes, they’re bigger than the Escape and Forester, respectively, but the Edge is significantly more expensive than the Escape for that extra room, and Outback comes in a bigger package than Forester, but with virtually the same cargo volume!

VW’s models went in the other direction. The eliminated entrant was the smaller Golf AllTrack wagon -- like Equinox, possibly too small. And, it’s certain to be discontinued (along with all Golf wagons) for 2020. Besides, the larger Tiguan seems to sell for about the same price.

Due to my inadvertent snub of Nissan, and difficulty in eliminating something I didn’t see, the five finalists have now become:

•        Ford Escape (carry over for 2019, all new next year)
•          Honda CR-V (solid contender, as always) 
  
  
•          Nissan Rogue (can’t eliminate, although nothing exceptional save Hybrid fuel economy)
•          Subaru Forester (very impressive new body, almost indistinguishable from last year – “don’t mess with success”)
  
•          Volkswagen Tiguan (cars were locked in display! But, peering
  
  through windows and looking at stickers resulted in a thumbs-up)

Stickers on all five finalists are in the same ball park for comparably equipped models. But the Auto Show cannot convey any sense of drivability. Performance, handling, visibility can only be judged after a test drive at a dealership. These days, the usability of electronics, infotainment systems, safety features also can only be explored in a test drive.

Therefore, the test drive is the next step. It won’t happen until after the June visit of in-laws from California, however. My wife must be fully involved, and she is now concerned primarily with her sister and brother-in-law’s visit. Maybe we’ll take them along?

If it waits too late into the summer, we may be pushing up against the 2020 model year – resetting the cycle back to spreadsheet updates and research. There are multiple dealerships in Northern Virginia we might visit. For close-in Arlington, Falls Church, and Alexandria there is Koons, Jerry’s, and Ourisman Ford; Bill Page, Brown, and Landmark Honda; Passport Nissan; Beyer Subaru; and Alexandria VW. Tysons contributes Priority Nissan, Stohlman Subaru and VW. If we choose Fairfax or Springfield, we can hit Sheehy or Ted Britt Ford, Brown or Priority Nissan, Farrish or Sheehy Subaru, and Fairfax or Sheehy VW.

It’s not likely that we’ll need to drive more than one version of each of the five finalists – we’re not looking for any unusual combination of equipment, except possibly a Hybrid Rogue. So, choosing a map direction and hitting all the dealers in that vicinity might work. But it likely would require more than one afternoon, we could go twice or three times.

Is there an easier way to make our decision? The drive is the thing, it seems. Choices of color and equipment are reasonably uniform among all. Both my wife and I will be drivers, and both of us will be passengers. There will be one or two car seats in the rear. The driver will evaluate instrumentation, performance and handling, while the passenger evaluates electronics, general comfort, climate controls, and interior detailing. Only a test drive can afford this opportunity.

Since we intend to keep this car for more than ten years – as has been our habit for the last thirty years -- the answer to the question, “is there an easier way?” is emphatically no!

What Makes People Buy That Car?

Marketing Trends in the Auto Industry, a Photo Essay

William Sundwick

They were called “horseless carriages” for a reason. The earliest automobiles had open bodies fashioned from wood, sometimes with a folding top, like popular carriage designs of the time.

Soon, however, there emerged more luxurious closed bodies, often only the passenger cabin, with the driver still exposed to the elements. But these “cabs” were generally considered to occupy only the top end of the market, or livery vehicles.

The Model T Ford then created a “mass market” for automobiles in the United States. But roughly by the end of the First World War, closed bodies became more commonplace – even for the Model T. Ford had competitors by this time, many makes were marketed to less than upper-class buyers. And, as the maturing auto industry moved through the 1920s, there seemed to be a stock selection of body styles. There were coupes (with or without jump seats in the rear), sedans (two or four doors, but with full back seat), town cars and limousines for the chauffeur-driven elite (passenger

compartments separated from driver by full glass partition), and roadsters (no back seat, except possible “rumble seat”) or phaetons for the “open air” crowd (old style “touring” bodies with four doors and spacious rear seat).

These different body types appealed to folks now driving longer distances, often between cities. Both comfort and reliability became the most common marketing pitches for all auto-makers. In the U.S., General Motors, Chrysler Corporation, Nash, Hudson,

Studebaker and Packard all laid claim to significant portions of the market in the ‘20s and ‘30s. (Ford, the originator of the market, was overtaken in market share by both GM and Chrysler by the time World War II began).

Closed bodies (coupes and sedans) dominated the market from the onset of the Great Depression in 1930. Comfort and quiet, along with new features like radios, heaters, and window cranks made the passenger cabin a much more parlor-like experience, even in the popular-price segment where Chevrolet and Plymouth became the new market leaders.

Styling of auto bodies underwent some drastic changes in the 1930s. It was not just the enclosed quiet of the cabin that characterized cars of that decade, but major marketing initiatives around

“streamlining” and appearance of speed (if not reality) pitched by all manufacturers as a desirable look of the future. As always, the future was more appealing to younger buyers. And, younger buyers were coming in greater numbers as we approached entry into World War II. The most extreme futuristic streamlining, like Chrysler’s “Airflow” design of 1934, seemed avant-garde by the standards of the time.

Through the decade, running boards gradually disappeared from all cars, pontoon fenders with fared-in headlights became the norm, smooth curves replaced boxy shapes in all body styles. Horsepower ratings also began to be advertised during the 1930s and became a major marketing strategy after the war.

Tasteful, curvy streamlining and pontoon fenders began to fade post-war, as a brash new generation of designers took over in Detroit. GM’s Harley Earl (the dean of that earlier generation of stylists) retired, and people like

Raymond Loewy (Studebaker fame) took his place.

While a spacious, comfortable cabins continued to be important to the post-war auto buyer, new demands from the growing popularity of family vacations by car took on more importance. Trunks had to accommodate ever more luggage – not to mention golf clubs! This, in turn, caused another aesthetic shift in the appearance of auto bodies. Long hoods (to accommodate powerful V8 engines) were supplemented by long trunks. Cars got very large. The cabin area, now diminished as a percentage of the overall length, was made to seem bigger by much more glass. Wrap-around windshields and rear windows. The literal disappearance of side window frames (when

lowered) made the “hardtop” body style (two or four door) the most popular configuration in the ‘50s and ‘60s.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was a reaction to the apparent excess of the huge cars, powerful engines, and lots of chrome. Beginning even before the war, a niche market for imported small cars (usually from Britain, like Austin, Morris, MG) started to develop, especially in coastal cities. By the early ‘50s, this market had grown enough that many British automakers were equipping their export

vehicles with left-hand drive, aimed specifically at the U.S. and Canadian markets.

While the price of gasoline was never a constraint in the U.S., as it was for the native designers in Europe (not to mention their narrower urban streetscapes), the general cultural reaction against bigness and flashiness grew to such an extent that Detroit had to respond. But, since product development cycles in the auto industry are attenuated over several years, the new Detroit “compacts” didn’t arrive until 1960. By that time, Volkswagen Beetles had become a common sight in most of America. Rambler led the way somewhat earlier and could show a growing market share in the mid-to-late ‘50s as proof.

Keeping up with changing tastes of a young, more suburban, market in the fifties and sixties led to some important trends. Two body types that grew into an impressive social mainstay were convertibles and station wagons. Both body styles imbued a certain social status to their owners – convertibles implied youth, daring,

and enough affluence to have one car (of two) dedicated more to fun than practicality. Wagons frequently had three rows of seating,
for growing numbers of kids, not necessarily your own, but the neighbors’! For a while, it was thought that kids enjoyed facing the rear window in that third-row seat, although some safety concerns were later raised about that configuration. Even without the third row, wagons were great cargo carriers -- virtual car-truck hybrids! They were great for suburban shopping and family vacations, able to accommodate long things, like surfboards or plywood paneling for the basement.

Automobile marketing became more mysterious, at least in the eyes of this observer, in the 1970s.  Convertibles began to disappear – supposedly killed off by the insurance industry. And, while big cars with big engines continued to dominate Detroit, small imports retained a large following. What is strange, both for the domestic bodies and imported offerings, is the popularity of two-door models. For some reason, and I’ve been unable to find a psychological study explaining it, two-door bodies

across all segments of the market, outsold four-door bodies. Why? What possible advantage would buyers of that era see in having only two doors? Ingress and egress to the rear seat was harder. But even large cars with much rear seat leg and hip room, seemed to have popular two-door variants. Many of the two-door cars had tiny rear quarter windows, giving rear seat passengers privacy, perhaps, but decreasing visibility for driver. It seemed a perverse design trend, and it continued into the 1980s.

The coming of the BMW (and others, both foreign and domestic) four-door sport sedans in the ‘90s effectively killed that mystery market for two-door cars. There was no longer any connection

between “sportiness” and having only two doors.

Of course, throughout the history of the automobile, there have been many smaller niche markets: electric cars in the teens, sports cars from the 1920s on, drag racing wannabes in the muscle car era of the ‘60s and early ‘70s, and early 4x4s (Jeeps and pickups). Trucks moved from a rural niche market for private transportation into the mainstream with the coming of the smaller Japanese pickups in the 1980s.


The original Jeep was the first SUV. But Toyota, Nissan, then GM, Ford, and Chrysler all discovered

these truck-based wagons. The Chevy Suburban had been around since before the war but was relegated to one of those niche markets until suddenly, in the mid-70s, competition blossomed. Jeep Cherokees, Chevy Blazers, Ford Broncos, Toyota 4-Runners and Nissan Pathfinders all roared into the 1980s as the new best sellers.

 They were, indeed, trucks. They were all built on a pickup frame, with a body (two-door at first, later expanded to four doors) that
included a bouncy, but roomy, rear seat.

As trucks developed their own market segment, complete with luxo-cruisers, monster off-road vehicles, and compacts for urban living, it occurred to the intrepid auto designers that a true car-truck hybrid might fuse the enthusiasm of the SUV buyer with the family buyer who had previously settled for a matronly minivan. The “crossover” was thus born.

2018 Buick Enclave

2018 Honda CR-V

Crossovers emerged in a variety of form factors, from large three-row quasi-minivans (Buick Enclave, Toyota Highlander, Honda Pilot), to compact two-row versions (Toyota RAV-4, Honda CR-V, Subaru Forester), to sub-compact little cars (Fiat 500X, Honda HR-V, Ford EcoSport). Compact crossovers are now the hottest selling market segment of all, with larger and smaller versions close
behind.

2019 Ford EcoSport

It seems that a combination of a “high ride” (you look down on traffic) and the practicality of a large open cargo area (accommodates bulky items) are the main selling points. The main distinction between a crossover and an SUV is that the crossover always has a unitized body-frame, like other car bodies, but unlike the separate platform frame of truck-based SUVs. Hence, the ride is more car-like.

This is where we have come after more than 100 years of automotive market segmentation and design whims. Practicality combined with comfort and freedom have always ruled the marketplace. Of course, my unsupported impressions are subject to dispute. I’ve always been partial to the Harley Earl period at General Motors, myself!

Quest for the Perfect Car

Five Step Process for Car Shopping

William Sundwick

We buy a car approximately every five-to-seven years. In a two-car family, that means cars generally sit in our driveway for a minimum of 11 years. Maybe as many as 15 years.

So, car shopping is a big deal. It happens rarely and amounts to a major life event. Typically, it is attenuated over two or three years.

In my family, I play the role of car buff and market analyst. My wife takes the role of sensible consumer making a sizable investment in our future. Thus, we are now involved in year two of our quest for the perfect replacement for our 2007 Toyota Highlander Hybrid.

The old car still has some miles left in it (~86,000 now), so this quest could continue longer. But we both feel it is time to start thinking of a successor. We have visions of ever higher repair costs, and many small, unsightly dings and scrapes are now marring a body we no longer think deserves body shop treatment. The fabric interior is stained with accumulated grime and wear. We replaced a windshield at Safelite a few years ago with an inferior-spec non-polarized version.

Any new car we buy will have an updated audio system, with infotainment, more active safety measures, and heated leather seating. All constituting a significant upgrade – not to mention that it WILL BE NEW!

But, will we lose anything? To ensure that we don’t, I have created a spreadsheet (2019 is its third model year tab) detailing specs and review notes from the automotive press on all possible replacement candidates in the hottest segment of the auto market – compact two-row crossover/SUVs. This is the segment inhabited back in 2007 by our Highlander, and it is even more popular now, with more competitors.

There are 15 possible choices for the 2019 model year (down from 2018 and 2017 because of more stringent filtering). The threshold filters this year are measures of fuel economy, cargo volume, and price for the lowest acceptable level of equipment, based on manufacturers’ online “build-and-price” sites. Fuel economy must reach a minimum of 27 mpg highway by EPA estimate. Cargo volume with rear seat folded must exceed 63 cu. ft. And, pricing for what I’ve defined as “level 1” trim must be less than $40,000. Level 1 (as opposed to “level 2,” which is fully-equipped top-end trim) includes power driver’s seat, touch screen infotainment system, some active safety features (e.g., front collision warning, lane-change warning, active cruise control), and a rear cargo cover and storage net. These things make the car equivalent or superior to my 2007 Highlander.

The filtering has been refined over the last two years. We’re older now, more spoiled by amenities (preferring something closer to “level 2” trim), and our cargo carrying requirements may have diminished somewhat. Now we look at things like easy-to-find LATCH anchors for child car seats (grandchildren!), competitive price, and the newest active safety features unknown in the days of our ’07 Highlander.

Step One of our five step shopping process was to assess our current needs. It’s looking like we’ll go for a fancier, smaller, more economical vehicle with comfortable accommodation for growing families. But a big tax bill this year and Trump’s threatened tariffs on imported cars make us wary of purchase price, too. We have completed Step One.

Step Two was the follow-up. We looked at the market. What were the choices? This is where my “crossover shopping” spreadsheet became the tool. The 15 vehicles this year from Ford, GM, Honda, Hyundai, Mitsubishi, Nissan, Subaru, Toyota, and Volkswagen all meet my threshold requirements (which have changed each year). Each contender has certain strengths and weaknesses; the best in class fuel economy goes to the Mitsubishi Outlander PHEV, next best is the Toyota RAV4 Hybrid. Roomiest is also the Outlander (PHEV version), next roomiest is the new Subaru Forester. Lowest price for comparably equipped models, Ford Escape (unfortunately, made in Mexico, may be subject to those tariffs); next lowest, Honda CR-V (more domestic content than Ford!). Active safety features like blind spot monitoring, active cruise control, and automatic emergency braking are options on many entrants in this segment, but standard across the line on Honda CR-V, Nissan Rogue, and both Subarus, Forester and Outback. We are now poised to begin Step Three.

This step will determine which trade-offs are worthwhile. We may sacrifice less important things, like power passenger seat, or faster 0-60 mph acceleration (measured in tenths of a second). But things like accessibility of LATCH anchors may be more important – or the angle of opening for rear doors (there is variability here). Much of this detail information can be found in reviews, such as Car & Driver blog, or Edmunds, and are reflected in my spreadsheet. We will then visit dealerships (and the annual Washington Auto Show). Look and feel of the contenders will become the most important factor, things like dash layout, interior materials quality and finish, styling. 

Step Four will narrow the field to test-drive candidates. We will not test drive all 15 entries in the spreadsheet. We may not even visit dealerships representing all the manufacturers. Hyundai has relatively poor EPA ratings, whereas Mitsubishi and Toyota are at the top there, but lack other features -- reliability for Mitsubishi, rear seat passenger accessibility for Toyota RAV4.

The final decision constitutes Step Five. It will be made from a combination of impressions garnered in the first four steps. And, it may well be that the clincher is the personal touch from the salesperson at a specific dealership. Our last car purchase – a Chevy Volt – was ultimately decided based on the incredible knowledge of PHEV Voltec engineering, combined with personal charm, of the salesman we dealt with at Koons GM Corner Tysons (one Mark Gomez).

Other decisive factors include a business assessment of the manufacturer -- how long will Mitsubishi survive in U.S. market? How about ethics at VW or GM? (Scandals have affected both companies recently). The design of the manufacturer’s cars also conveys how badly they want me as a customer. In GM’s favor, they have three vehicles that meet all the requirements to be included in my spreadsheet, no other manufacturer has more than two. My wife has a much stronger aesthetic/social appreciation for what she wants in our driveway. That, more than strategic financial concerns, is why we have eliminated all the “luxury” brands from our potential candidates. Similarly, brand images might narrow the GM entrants to one – Chevy Equinox (eliminating both Buick and GMC). But that would mean two Chevrolets in our driveway. (What is this? Flint, Michigan, ca. 1965?)

Not a trivial matter, this final decision. It’s a car we may keep until we cease driving. The last car we own? What a weighty thought!

Arrival and Insertion, 1953-62

The Flint Series, Chapter 3

William Sundwick

Flint grew rapidly in the early fifties. The 1950 Census pegged its population at about 163-thousand, but by 1960 it was 197-thousand. We all noticed it.

New neighborhoods, like our Ballenger Highway neighborhood, were adding single family houses, in ours mostly “ranch-style” (often called “ramblers” on the East Coast), at such a rate that services couldn’t keep up.

Schools needed to be expanded quickly. Since the nearest elementary school to us was over a mile away (no buses), four hastily erected prefab “primary units” for grades K-3 served as a stopgap.  These one room units, identical except for paint color, were in use until we moved out in 1965, when the new Anderson Elementary School finally opened in the neighborhood.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Elementary/Junior High School had been built on Chevrolet Avenue in 1928, only a few blocks north of the old “Chevy in the Hole” complex. This was the original dedicated Chevrolet and Buick assembly location, built in the teens. From 4^th grade on, I was deemed capable of walking safely the short mile from my house to the school.

It was a pleasant enough walk, except in winter when Flint became frozen tundra for four months.  I seldom had to walk alone, always accompanied by chums in my grade. It was a friendly neighborhood, with many kids my age.

We strolled down Winona Street four blocks to Mackin Road, then east on Mackin another five blocks. It was a big school compared to those one-room prefab primary units. There was a spacious playground, a gym, and a library.

My friends included Abe, who lived on Mackin Road – I stopped at his house each morning to pick him up, and we walked together. He was the elder son of Holocaust survivors who had somehow found themselves in Flint, moving from New York (Brooklyn?) a couple years earlier.

There was also Charles. He walked from his house on Begole Street a block away, and we would proceed from there. Some tensions arose later with Charles, as our world views took on shades of plant management. His dad was my father’s subordinate at Ternstedt.

My cousin John Sundwick, the youngest of my Uncle Bob’s three kids, was a year behind me in school, and lived only about four blocks away on Lavender Street; but, alas, our Elementary School paths never crossed, since school districts in Flint placed the boundary between Civic Park Elementary and Longfellow between us. Ballenger Highway was an insurmountable barrier to walking without crossing guards or lights, for kids our age. In Junior High, defined as grades 7-9, the “other Flint Sundwicks” lived in Florida, returning later to the Flint area.

In those frigid winter months, or on any rainy days, I remember rides proffered only by my own mother. Other moms didn’t seem to step up. Did they not have access to a car? In Flint? That’s possible, since there might not have been many two-car families in our predominantly working-class neighborhoods. Mom’s 1953 Chevy did yeoman’s service for seven years.

Michael Moore, in his memoir about growing up in Flint, “Here Comes Trouble” (2011), declared mid-century industrial Flint a relatively classless society. He wrote of living on the same block with doctors and lawyers, even though his own father was an hourly-rate assembly line worker at AC Spark Plug .  The same was true in my Ballenger Highway neighborhood – indeed, except for my own closest friends, I had no idea what people’s dads (and moms) did for a living. It was never a topic of conversation. And, even somebody as class-conscious as my mother, who put much effort into “social climbing” (allegedly for my dad’s career), would never say an unkind word about any of our neighbors, their income, education, or social status.

I learned later, in high school, that the Ternstedt people, except my friend Charles’ family, were ensconced in wealthier neighborhoods in town.

As the sixties arrived, our neighborhood was completed. The newest houses were somewhat larger and fancier than the originals like ours. Split levels appeared in the late fifties. And we learned that some people moving into them were part of a “professional” class, self-employed (especially doctors, tax accountants, funeral directors) – not necessarily reliant on General Motors for employment.

This change may have separated our neighborhood from the adjoining old Civic Park neighborhood, which was expressly built by GM for its workers in the teens and twenties. Despite the abandoned houses, vacant lots, and ghostly shell of an empty Haskell Community Center, a historical marker at Bassett Park, its former centerpiece, still stands to recognize this. Civic Park epitomizes the “old” Flint better than any other neighborhoods on the west side of town. It may symbolize the death of the city as well.

 I always noticed what kind of cars were in my neighbors’ driveways. Back then, people changed cars frequently, typically every two years. They all had a sense of loyalty to Mother GM, apparently reasoning they could secure their own paychecks by buying its cars. Almost always Buicks and Chevrolets, the specific model, equipment, etc. waxed large in my observation. But we were the only folks in the neighborhood with a new Cadillac every year, from 1954-1958, until Dad’s career flatlined after his first coronary. We immediately switched to Chevy.

We did have two cars still, and a garage for them. Did the neighbors talk, when my dad courageously switched to the lowest-priced “stripped down” Chevy in 1958? My mom was embarrassed, and she told us as much! I had grown fond of the Cadillacs, too, but looking back I now understand my dad’s rather powerful social statement. Why did we care, really, about the Caddies? Did it matter what the neighbors thought?

My world changed when I entered Flint Central High School for the 1962-63 school year. It was the Harvard of Flint public high schools, the oldest (1923), situated near the Flint College and Cultural Center. And, all I had to do to get there was live in its district, which included a narrow swath on the west side of town (perhaps drawn for racial gerrymandering or integration?). It also included the “East Village” neighborhood – home to Flint’s old money, and intellectual elite.

It was a new world, indeed. Eventually, it led to a strong desire to escape!