Morris Minor MM
‘By 1954, the Minor had outlived the four other members of that original Earls Court display’
Graham Holt’s teal-coloured 1950 MM raises an interesting question: when did the Morris Minor – the car that has indoctrinated legions of young enthusiasts into the joys of classic ownership – start to become regarded as quaint? Some will argue that the first turning point was reached in 1960, when the Minor became the first British car to post sales figures of over a million. And by the time of the introduction of the Morris 1100 in 1962, it had become a true patriarch of the British Motor Corporation.
Because the Minor has been such a staple (although never a cliché) of the classic movement for so many decades, it is always refreshing to encounter its original incarnation. Its story is well-known – how Issigonis intended it to feature independent rear suspension and a flatfour engine, and how it was so disdained by Lord Nuffield that he refused to be pictured with it – but this example allows you to vicariously experience the excitement the Minor evoked at that Earls Court Show back in 1948.
For starters, there was the specification that included independent front suspension and rack-and-pinion steering, and you can’t forget those smooth lines. The new Morris not only bore virtually no resemblance to the outgoing Eight, but it was also much more svelte than its rivals and made the Ford Anglia E494A look antediluvian by comparison. By 1954, the Minor had outlived the four other members of that original Earls Court display, and was by then virtually street furniture on a par with A/bbutton telephone boxes.
On the road, Holt finds that his MM just about keeps up with modern traffic: “Although gradients are its enemy, and radial-ply tyres have really transformed its handling.”
“I’ve known this car since 1961,” he continues, “and I can really appreciate why it made such an impact at its launch.”
In export markets, the MM would have competed with the likes of the new Citroën 2CV, the Renault 4CV and the Panhard Dyna X. Back home, to aspire to own any form of car at all – let alone a new model – was a pipedream. But 70 years ago, would-be motorists still put their names on the lengthy waiting list for the Minor, even if they expected to take delivery in 1952, the year the MM was succeeded by the Series II.
The importance of the Minor, aside from its technical and aesthetic significance, was in the aspirations it embodied. With the MM even more than its larger siblings, Morris had a model that allowed the average Briton to dream of one day sitting behind the wheel of their first new car. And that deserves to be celebrated.