Old Friends, Gremlins, Pacers & Robert Schuller … Oh My!

Within the past few days, Harry, an old friend tracked me down. He was in the county helping his son track down a summer job and took time out to visit with me at the store. Harry and I grew up in Beloit together – from junior high through college days. Later he was in Chicago while I was there and, early in our reconnection, he spent some time recollecting about the 1984 Bears’ Super Bowl party that I hosted in my apartment – some of which I remembered.

After Harry left to continue the job search I had a chance to reflect on my years in Beloit and those reflections reminded me of a column that originally appeared in the pages of the Door Reminder way back in 1999. Without further fuss, here’s what I wrote 14 years ago:

As regular readers know, I grew up in Beloit, Wis., during the 1970s. Among the many defining characteristics of the ’70s was the energy crisis and with the arrival of the energy crisis came a radical shift in American car design.

At first this re-design gave us very small cars that resembled little boxes on wheels. The style was largely imitative of designs that had been in use in Europe for years, where they were called commuter cars. Indeed, imports began to flood the country because of their smaller size and their corresponding efficiency in gas mileage. So the American car companies began to shift from their large designs to smaller ones.

Gremlin

As a teenager in the ’70s there were two American cars that stood out – literally. And interestingly, they both came from the same car company.

The first arrived in 1970 from AMC, and was called the Gremlin. For those who have come along since the era of the Gremlin, seldom has a car received a name that was so completely apropos. Like its namesake, who is frequently pictured as a grotesque little creature with an overly large head and big ears, the Gremlin car was ugly to the point of being obscene.

Featuring two doors and a hatchback that seemed to open right above the rear axle, the car looked like a child’s caricature of a car rather than an actual car. As if the basic design wasn’t bad enough, these vehicles were frequently seen cruising the neighborhood sporting garish color schemes. Incredibly, AMC continued to manufacture the Gremlin until 1978. Though I have no confirmation for the following assertion, I have always suspected that the reason the Gremlin continued to be manufactured was due to the fact that every third household in and around Beloit seemed to have one parked in the driveway.

So what I’m wondering is this: where have all the Gremlins gone? Did everyone finally realize that the cars were ugly and turn them over to the junk dealer for scrap metal? Perhaps they were given to the local priest for an exorcism? Or are there hundreds of thousands of these hideous vehicles lying under tarps in garages throughout the country, just waiting to re-emerge?

The other car that dominates my memories of the ’70s was the Pacer, also created by AMC. Remember that I said that every third household in Beloit seemed to have a Gremlin in the driveway? Well, 50 percent of the remaining 67 percent of the households in Beloit had a Pacer in the driveway.

Pacer

The Pacer was the brainchild of a man named Richard A. Teague, who conceived the design in 1971. The defining characteristic that those of us who were around at the time remember is the incredible number (and size) of the windows on a Pacer. To refresh memories and to enlighten those who weren’t around and have never seen a Pacer, 37 percent of the car’s surface area was glass!

Thankfully, the Pacer was only manufactured from 1975 – 1980 and I was surprised to learn that only 280,000 of the cars were sold. Based on my experience and recollection, however, at least 200,000 Pacers were sold in Wisconsin and northern Illinois.

The other notable aspect of the Pacer’s design was its width. While it was only 171” long, it was an incredible 77” wide – the same width as a full-size Cadillac. Originally, the Pacer was going to come equipped with front-wheel drive and a rotary engine. Unfortunately (?), the rotary engine was to be provided GMC who, at the last minute, could not make their engine conform to the emission requirements of the era. Thus, AMC was faced with the prospect of marketing their new car without an engine.

Richard Teague did some scrambling, however, and made the 258-Six fit into his new car. In order to do this, though, the car had to be widened by 6” (the exact width needed for the drive shaft tunnel, which wouldn’t have been required in a front-wheel drive model). Thus, the Pacer’s peculiar width was never part of the original design.

With its wide, almost square appearance on the road, and its endless glass surface, the Pacer was an ideal target for jokes. Among the nicknames the car engendered were Bubble Car, Fish Bowl on Wheels, Pregnant Roller-skate, and my two favorites: Pregnant Guppy and Hamster-Mobile.

As ridiculous as this car was, its design did have one distinct advantage out on the road: it was the easiest car to pass ever made since you could look right through it to see oncoming traffic.

Like the Gremlin, the Pacer seems to have vanished. I found a few pictures on the internet, but I haven’t seen one on the road in years and years. And this absence leads me to wonder about something else: where did all the glass come from for Rev. Robert Schuller’s Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, CA (which, incidentally, was opened in 1980 – the same year AMC stopped making the Pacer)?

It couldn’t be, could it?