The Daily Courier

No-frills brand made a few exceptions

- By MALCOLM GUNN

Back in the mid-1950s, Plymouth needed some Fury behind it. And by 1958, it was there . . . all 18 feet of Àns and chrome. Before 1956, Plymouth was the poor cousin in a lineup that consisted of high-end Chryslers and DeSotos as well as the more popular-priced Dodge coupes, sedans and station wagons. Plymouth cars were relegated to price-leader status, a way for the average breadwinne­r to buy a new car – usually in bare-bones format – without breaking the bank. Since the Àrst Plymouth rolled off the assembly line in 1928, the division had enjoyed a proud and carefully nurtured reputation of producing one of the least-expensive full-size automobile­s on the road. However, by the 1950s, buyers began looking for more than just four wheels and an engine to get them around. They wanted style, color and lots of around-town and cross-country zip; features that most manufactur­ers were more than happy to provide. Chrysler itself was on the vanguard of this movement with the arrival of its “Hemi”-powered C-300 hardtop in 1955. That car was a terror on the street and was also tearing up the racetrack on the NASCAR circuits throughout the southern United States. Although Plymouths could be ordered with somewhat less potent V-8 engines in 1955, the brand’s conservati­ve image was a deÀnite impediment to sales. Despite newly designed sheetmetal and unique features such as a dash-mounted automatic shifter, sales of cars bearing the Plymouth crest remained pancake-Áat. The following year would prove to be pivotal for Plymouth. Along with showing off its new “Flight Sweep” look (in reality nothing more than a pair of sharply edged Àns molded onto the rear fenders), what really caught the public’s eye was the arrival of a new mid-season model. The Áashy 1956 Fury was unlike any other Plymouth produced, and certainly a far cry from its roster of plain-Jane Plazas, Savoys and Belvederes. The Fury was only available as a two-door hardtop and in just a single eggshell-white paint scheme. Along the car’s broad Áanks was a strip of gold-colored anodized-aluminum trim extending from behind the front headlights and ending just shy of the rear signal marker. With its wide-band whitewall tires and optional wire wheels, the Fury was built to be noticed. Also noticed was the under-the-hood punch. Nestled between its broad Áanks was a 303-cubicinch “Hy-Fire” V-8. With 240 horsepower, it had 40 more than the next-strongest Plymouth engine. The Hy-Fire-equipped Fury gave Plymouth the kind of performanc­e it had craved for years. The car was capable of zero-to-60-mph times of about 10 seconds, and it could reach a velocity of 110 mph riding on its skinny bias-ply tires. In fact, a specially modiÀed Fury hit a top speed of 145 mph on the sands of Daytona Beach, Fla., shattering two records in the process. As successful as the limited-production Fury was (only 4,485 were sold in 1956), the entire Chrysler Corporatio­n lineup was in the sales doldrums. A completely new look developed by head stylist Virgil Exner had been in the works for 1958, but the decision was made to move the launch forward by a year. Plymouth for 1957 featured the same type of dramatic sheetmetal developed for all Chrysler products, punctuated by acres of chrome and metal, as well as sky-high tailÀns. Plymouth’s advertisin­g slogan, “Suddenly it’s 1960,” perfectly captured the essence of the new design. The 1957 version of the Fury returned, bearing the same exterior white paint with gold trim, but it packed an even more potent powerplant. In place of the previous 303 V-8 was an allnew 290-horsepower 318-cubic-inch V-8, called the V-800, which featured two four-barrel carburetor­s. More than 7,400 Furys were sold in 1957, which was a reasonable number considerin­g that the car’s nearly-$3,000 price tag was at least $1,000 above a base Plaza sedan. Fury followers were treated to greater performanc­e in 1958. Displaceme­nt of the new “Golden Commando” V8 reached 350 cubic inches, while horsepower reached 305. That year, a few Furys received mechanical fuel injection, but problems with these 315-horsepower versions signiÀcant­ly limited production. Other than the adoption of quad headlights and other minor tweaks, the ’58 Fury was nearly indistingu­ishable from its 1957 counterpar­t. All good things eventually come to an end, and so it was with the Plymouth Fury. In 1959, the car ceased to be a single model, instead becoming an entire line of two- and four-door hardtops along with a convertibl­e that was available in various colors. A new Sport Fury, complete with a 305horsepo­wer 361 cubic-inch V-8 and fake spare tire bulge on the trunk lid, took center stage. As the decade ended, the Fury might have lost its special charm, but Chrysler had succeeded in creating a bona Àde Plymouth performanc­e machine and, most importantl­y, a newfound image for its previously underachie­ving marque. Future horsepower-laden Plymouths would become the toast of NASCAR, NHRA drag racing and impromptu jackrabbit stoplight matchups throughout the land. All owed a debt of gratitude to those early Furys that paved the way with their eye-popping style and superior substance. Malcolm Gunn is a writer with Wheelbase Media. He can be reached on the web at theoctanel­ounge.com by using the contact link. Wheelbase supplies automotive news and features to newspapers across North America.

 ??  ?? The best V-8 found in the late-’50s Fury was likely the 305-horsepower 361-cubic-incher for 1959. Previous to that was a 350-cubic-inch “Golden Commando.”
The best V-8 found in the late-’50s Fury was likely the 305-horsepower 361-cubic-incher for 1959. Previous to that was a 350-cubic-inch “Golden Commando.”
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