Studebaker, the only company that made the transition from producing horse-drawn wagons to motor vehicles, was also the only auto company to emerge from receivership during the great depression and get back in the business. In 1928 it was selling more than 100,000 vehicles a year but by 1933 its liabilities exceeded its assets by $15 million. Studebaker was saved by new leaders, including Harold S. Vance (the man with the white shoes in the earlier photo) who decided to save Studebaker by building a completely new model named the Champion.

    In the days of low-octane gasoline, around 1939, Studebakers were powered by two engines; the Commander had a 226 cubic inch 6-cylinder which produced 90 horsepower, and the President had a 250 cubic inch "straight 8" which produced 110 horsepower. ( The Ford V-8 and Chevrolet 6-cylinder each had 85 horsepower that year.) Studebaker's new Champion had a 164, 6-cylinder motor that produced 78 horsepower, which was only 12 horsepower less than the Commander, although the Champion engine was much smaller and lighter. (164 vs. 226 cu. in.) Although the Champion had less horsepower, it was also a much lighter car. It weighed between 2,260 and 2,275 pounds compared to the Commander, which weighed between 3,035 and 3,640 pounds. The Champion was a "compact car" years before anyone used that term.

    The Champion was a big success. In 1939, (first year of production), the Commander outsold the Champion by 43,724 to 33,905; but by 1940, America discovered what a fine car the Champion was and it outsold the Commander by 66,264 to 34,477. By 1941, the score was 84,910 Champions to 41, 996 Commanders, more than 2 to 1 in favor of the new Champion. World War II ended all auto production in 1942, but when production resumed, the Champion and Commander were entirely new models in 1947, while the other major auto companies sold "facelifted" prewar cars. Studebaker's new slogan was, "First by far with a postwar car." The pundits and comics responded, "Which way is it going?" Everyone laughed at first, but soon realized that Studebaker was going the right way, and followed.

    Fortunately, my grandfather was able get one of the first 1947 Champions. Studebaker employees were the first to get the new cars, but had to sign agreements not to resell them because of the shortage. Dad took the Champion with him to school in Chicago to study a newfangled device called television and soon discovered that a new Studebaker Champion was a great car to attract young ladies. (One of those attractive young ladies later became my mom.)

    The first family car I can remember riding in was our '51 "bullet nose" Champion, pictured with me on the first page. The photos below illustrate the cars that are the subject of this discussion. The first two photos below show my father and his '47 Champion while the lower two are of the'51 Commander and Champion. The lady with the "bullet nose" Champion is my dear departed Aunt Wanda, who was completely unrelated to the Studebaker side of the family, but owned a Champion and called it the best car she ever owned.

    In 1951 Studebaker introduced its new overhead valve V-8 to replace the big Commander 6-cylinder motor. (Only Cadillac and Oldsmobile had modern overhead valve V-8's before Studebaker.) From that point forward, the main difference between a Champion and a Commander was whether the car had a 6-cylinder or V-8 engine. Unfortunately, American cars got bigger and heavier during the 1950's and the Champion ended up with a reputation of being a slow car made for senior citizens. Most Americans did not want to follow Studebaker's chosen path of low weight, economy and efficiency. Americans wanted more horsepower, chrome and "road hugging weight." A comparison between Buick and Studebaker between 1950 and 1953 illustrates that trend.

    In model year 1950, Studebaker sold 343,166 cars compared to 338,905 for Buick. Then Studebaker got smaller and Buick got bigger. In 1953, Studebaker came out with the beautiful "Raymond Lowey" hardtops and coupes which had very little chrome and weighed about 3,100 pounds with the 232 cubic inch V-8. That same year, Buick celebrated its 50th anniversary with cars that weighed between 3,700 and 4,260 pounds powered by its new 322 cubic inch V-8. It also had "portholes" in the front fenders and a chrome grille that appeared to be capable of devouring pedestrians in one bite. Americans loved it. Buick became the third best-selling car in the USA that year, right behind Chevrolet and Ford, which caught everyone's attention because Ford and Chevy were low-priced cars while Buick was only one step below the Cadillac.

    Thus, in 1950 Studebaker sold slightly more cars, but by 1953 Buick sold 486,812 cars vs. 169,899 for Studebaker. Model year 1954 was even worse for Studebaker. Buick sold 444,903 while Studebaker sold 81,309. Everyone got the message, including Studebaker. In 1955 Studebaker increased its V-8 from 224 to 259 cubic inches, added lots of chrome to all its models and tried to make them look more like Buicks. Sales increased from 81,309 to 133,826, between 1954 and 1955, but Studebaker lost nearly 30 million dollars in 1955 and nearly 44 million dollars in 1956. Between 1954 and 1957 the net worth of the Studebaker-Packard Corporation dropped from more than $148 million to approximately $4.5 million. Studebaker spent most of the 1950's adding chrome and fins in an effort to make its cars look bigger and more expensive. The results are illustrated by the photos below.

    Each of the cars pictured above are Champions (1939, 1947 and 1958), except for the last car on the right which is my first Lark. A comparison between the 1958 Champion and my 1960 Lark clearly illustrates the overweight problem that Studebaker solved by taking the Champion, chopping off the front and rear "overhang," shortening it and eliminating the fins, chrome and quad headlights that had accumulated over the years. At first they called it "Model X" but before the first car was sold, they named it the "Lark."

    The Lark brought good times back to South Bend. Studebaker sold them as fast as they could make them, and they could make 84 of them per hour at "South Bend Main." (Not bad for an "antiquated" factory.) In the photos below, notice how Studebaker emphasizes the name "Lark" over its own name as though "Lark" is the company, not a car model sold by the company. Note the middle advertisement which says, "Lark has the greatest selection of fleet vehicles."

    Another good example of the Lark's popularity is demonstrated by the cigarette ashtray I stuck in my scanner and copied below. It says, "Stolen from Deka's 'Lark' Bar, 849 South Chapin Street, South Bend Indiana." That was a favorite watering hole for Studebaker employees. Look up the address on a map and you will see where the old factory was located, and where much of it remains.

    My Lark is a good example of the way Larks affected many people. In 1960, I was nine years old and living in Chicago when I went to visit my Aunt Harriet, who was unrelated to the Studebaker side of the family. I took a yellow Lark model with me that my grandfather had given me. (It was the same color as their house in South Bend.) My aunt Harriet liked my model Lark so much that she had my uncle drive her to the Studebaker dealer and buy her one exactly like it. Although my aunt was about 35-40 years old at the time and never had gotten a driver's license, once she saw my model Lark, she bought the real thing and learned to drive. In 1968, they sold the car to me and it became my first car.

    The photos below are, left to right, as follows: First, me at age 18 with my Lark in front of our home in Chicago Ridge, Illinois. Second, my Lark at the Studebaker Proving Ground during the 1970 Studebaker Drivers Club Meet. Third, my grandfather with the Lark outside Studebaker "Plant 8" in 1970. Fourth, my grandparents in front of their house in South Bend in late July, 1971. The two stylishly dressed gentlemen sitting on the front of my car were accompanying me to the George Harrison concert for Bangladesh, held in Madison Square Garden on August 1, 1971. We toured the East Coast that summer in the Lark and it ran perfectly. (Getting it to start on winter mornings when the temperature was below zero was an entirely different matter.)

    The yellow Lark was not my only Lark. In 1980 I saw near my home in Anaheim, California a green Army surplus for sale at the price of $375.00. At that time I already had a '63 Avanti, '55 Commander, '55 Messerschmitt and a motorcycle. Although I didn't need another car, I offered $300. About two weeks later my offer was accepted. It was a complete rust-bucket, but was also the best $300 I ever spent. Within two years, the Commander engine seized up, I lost my job and I had to sell the Avanti. Driving "Fritz the Schmitt" on a regular basis was out of the question since that is possibly the most dangerous and unreliable vehicle ever devised.

    For about 10 years my $300 green Lark was my most dependable means of transportation. It never gave me a bit of trouble. That Lark was a "champion." It had the three-speed with overdrive transmission which remains my favorite transmission to this day. I drove it about 200 miles through the Sierra Nevada Mountains and Mojave Desert to my mom's home in Lone Pine, California on a regular basis. On one trip, I pulled the V-8 out of the Commander and hauled it home in the rear passenger compartment of the Lark (after removing the rear seat bench cushion, of course.) We also used it like a Jeep to explore the mountains looking for ghost towns. During one of those trips I took two pictures of it on the road to Cerro Gordo, which are copied below.

    Unfortunately, the green Lark blew its transmission on a trip home from Lone Pine, but it took me home anyway. Reverse gear and overdrive no longer worked, but like the '51 Champion, the car went to the junk yard under its own power. Years later I realized what a dependable and economical car it had been and wished that I had taken more pictures and better care of it. It reminds me of a Joni Mitchell song that begins with the line, "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone?"



    Following are two more fine songs of the sixties.


    Hey Daddy! I Want A Brand New Lark! [Audio Only]

    Get Yourself A Lark! ('62 Lark) [Audio Only]

    I made the following video for you to view if you are connected to the internet via a Broadband connection. This is not recommended for slower connections such as dial-up.

    Hey Daddy! I Want A Brand New Lark! Mp4 Video

    GO TO PAGE ONE - Studebaker Stories Introduction
    GO TO PAGE TWO - A Family of Craftsmen
    GO TO PAGE FOUR - Avanti
    GO TO PAGE FIVE - Hello Commander, Goodbye Avanti
    GO TO PAGE SIX - Rolling Along for One Hundred and Fifty Years

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