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Visitors to The Henry Ford may have noticed that we have a very special guest in the Driving America exhibit: GT40 chassis number 1075, one of the world’s most celebrated race cars. The car has six race victories to its credit, but it is best known for winning the 24 Hours of Le Mans – twice. Race fans know that Le Mans is not only the most prestigious event in motorsport, but also among the most grueling. Cars and drivers are pushed to their limits, running hard on the difficult course for 24 non-stop hours. Simply finishing the race is a major accomplishment. Winning is the capstone in any car’s career. Winning twice, well, that’s nothing short of extraordinary.

Car 1075 has its roots in Ford Motor Company’s legendary fight to beat Ferrari in the 1960s. After avoiding motor racing for many years, Ford jumped in with both feet in the early 1960s. The company actually tried to purchase Ferrari in 1963. It was a shrewd idea – the acquisition would have given Ford instant prestige and a massive head start in its racing efforts. But it was not to be. The two companies could not come to agreeable terms and the negotiations ended. Unable to buy the Italian automaker, Ford decided to beat it.

Ford turned to Eric Broadley, of British-based Lola Cars, to jump-start its sports car racing effort. Broadley designed a car based on Lola’s own sophisticated 1963 GT car and powered by Ford’s Indy Car 289-cubic inch V-8. The resulting racer stood a mere forty inches off the ground – hence its name, the GT40. Results in the 1964 season weren’t particularly promising, and Ford turned to its big NASCAR 427 V-8 to power the GT40 Mark II. The bigger engine started winning races in 1965, and a Ford-sponsored Mark II took the checkered flag at Le Mans in 1966. As if to prove the victory wasn’t a fluke, Ford came back and won again with the Mark IV in 1967. The Mark IV, having been designed and built entirely in the U.S. and piloted by Californian Dan Gurney and Texan A.J. Foyt, gave the 1967 win the further distinction of being an all-American effort.

Ironically, Ford’s domination with the big 427 engine provided a break for the smaller 289. The big engines regularly pushed cars past 200 miles per hour on the Le Mans circuit and French officials, fearing a catastrophic accident on a track designed for slower speeds, imposed a 305-cubic inch limit for 1968. The Mark I’s 289 cubic inches suddenly didn’t seem too few. Ford ended its involvement at Le Mans after 1967, but other teams continued to field GT40s. JW Automotive Engineering dominated the next two racing seasons with Mark I cars, including chassis 1075.

Mexican Pedro Rodriguez and Belgian Lucien Bianchi drove 1075 to its first Le Mans win in 1968. It was an unusually cold and wet race (held in late September, rather than the usual June, due to political unrest), but the drivers – and the car – performed flawlessly and held the lead for 17 of the 24 hours. It was the third win in a row for a Ford car, but the first for the original Mark I design. Sadly, Rodriguez and Bianchi both died in separate racing accidents within three years of their Le Mans triumph.

Car 1075 came back to Le Mans in 1969, this time with Belgian Jacky Ickx and Brit Jackie Oliver at the wheel. Ickx started the race with a bold protest against the fabled “Le Mans start,” in which drivers stood across the track, ran to their cars and then drove off – buckling their harnesses as they sped along. Ickx took his time getting to his car and carefully strapped himself in before setting off. Tragically, Ickx’s point about the inherent danger was proved on the first lap: British driver John Woolfe was killed in an accident before he had a chance to buckle his harness. The fatal crash foreshadowed one of the most dramatic Le Mans races. Car 1075 traded the lead with a Porsche 908 constantly during the last 2½ hours. On the last lap, the Mark I crossed the finish line a mere 100 yards ahead of the Porsche – in a race of more than 3,100 miles. With that second win, car 1075 earned its place in history and cemented the GT40’s reputation as one of the most successful cars in motorsport.

Matt Anderson is Curator of Transportation at The Henry Ford

Ford GT40 #1075 on exhibit at Henry Ford Museum.

1968 Ford Mark I, Chassis Number 1075

  • Maker: Ford Motor Company, Dearborn, Michigan
  • Engine: Ford V-8 with Gurney-Weslake cylinder heads, overhead valves, 302 cubic inches
  • Transmission: 5-speed manual
  • Height: 40.5”
  • Width: 70”
  • Wheelbase: 95”
  • Overall length: 164.5”
  • Weight: 2186 pounds
  • Horsepower: 425 @ 6000 rpm
  • Pounds per horsepower: 5.1
  •  

    Competition History: Winner of Le Mans 24-hour in 1968 and 1969. Winner of BOAC International 500 in 1968. Winner of Spa 1000-kilometer in 1968. Winner of Watkins Glen 6-hour in 1968. Winner of Sebring 12-hour in 1969.

    Europe, 1960s, 20th century, race cars, Le Mans, racing, Henry Ford Museum, Driving America, cars, by Matt Anderson

    Edsel Ford and Henry Ford II at the National Air Tour, Ford Airport, Dearborn, 1928. Sponsored in part by Ford, the National Air Tour brought pilots and visitors to Dearborn in the late 1920s and early 1930s. The need to house guests and participants was one of the factors that led to the construction of the Dearborn Inn. (Object ID P.O.8527)
    This is the second of three blog posts on objects related to the Dearborn Inn in the collections of The Henry Ford. The first concerned a remarkable scrapbook documenting the original furnishings of the Inn, which opened in 1931.

    In the first piece, I discussed the unique nature of the Dearborn Inn, intended as an airport hotel and as a “front door” for visitors to our campus, Ford Motor Company and the Dearborn community. What I did not address was who conceived of the Inn and oversaw the project to its fruition. That individual was Edsel Ford. While it is generally acknowledged that Edsel Ford was a pivotal figure in the management of the Ford enterprise, individual achievements are rarely accorded to him. In the case of the Dearborn Inn, it is generally considered to be the conception of Henry Ford. While researching the scrapbook, I ran across reminiscences in our archives of Ernest Gustav Liebold (1884-1956), who served as Henry Ford’s executive secretary and financial manager. Mr. Liebold oversaw nearly all of Henry Ford’s business outside of Ford Motor Company. Mr. Liebold categorically states that the idea for the Dearborn Inn came from Mr. Edsel Ford. He continues to briefly discuss the construction of the Inn, specifically the interaction of architect Albert Kahn’s office with the Ford organization. Finally, Mr. Liebold states the following:

    “Mr. Edsel Ford brought in Treadway to operate the Dearborn Inn. He also had Treadway at his Inn up in Maine. (Edsel Ford owned a large summer home near Seal Harbor, Maine.) Edsel bought it shortly after Mr. (Henry) Ford bought the Wayside Inn (in Sudbury, Massachusetts). He had that as an inn of his own, and Treadway operated it. Treadway was brought here at the same time and given a contract, I think for five years.”

    This statement led me to investigate the Treadway Inn and its history. According to The Motel in America (1996) Treadway Inns were America’s earliest motel chain. They were founded accidentally by Mr. L.G. Treadway. In 1912 he took over operations at the Williams Inn at Williamstown, Massachusetts. (This inn continues today.) It was an old coaching inn, dating back to the early 19th century. Under Treadway’s management, the establishment was attractive, comfortable, and provided good meals. Treadway’s innovation came in 1920 when he and the owners of inns in nearby towns, specifically the Ashfield House of Ashfield, Massachusetts, and the Dorset Inn of Dorset, Vermont, combined resources. Guests were recommended to the associated inns, and employee exchanges took place. The three inns found economies of scale by combining advertising and purchasing; the resulting increase in business and decrease in costs brought increased profits – the affiliation grew into a chain, with many other New England inns added over time.

    Treadway LogoEach inn maintained its own character, but they all shared comfort, good food and efficiency. They did not attempt to duplicate the hotels of big cities, but rather extend to all travelers old-fashioned rural New England hospitality. Once established, the chain made its headquarters, ironically, in New York City and always included the trademark, “The Real New England Inns” with a distinctive logo of a colonial innkeeper pointing with a cane in the left hand, lantern held high in his right.

    While traveling from Michigan to his summer home in Maine, Edsel Ford likely encountered the Treadway chain. After experiencing “The Real New England Inns” it must have been a foregone conclusion for Edsel Ford to invite Treadway to manage the Dearborn Inn. According to articles in Ford News, Ford Motor Company’s in-house magazine, announcing the Inn’s opening in the summer of 1931, a number of the Inn’s staff was recruited from Treadway Inns throughout New England.

    THF229240
    THF229243
    THF229291
    Reproduction 18th and 19th century furniture filled the public and guest rooms of the Dearborn Inn (Object ID 59.13.7).
    The Dearborn Inn differed from typical Treadway Inns in a major way – it was a totally new construction. In keeping with their corporate identity, the Treadway staff sought to recreate interiors reminiscent of a New England inn, filling the public and guest rooms with reproduction 18th and 19th century furniture.

    The Treadway firm managed the Dearborn Inn until 1939, when the contract with Ford was not renewed. A subsidiary of Ford known as Seaboard properties operated the Inn until 1983, when the Marriott Corporation took over.

    THF113312
    THF113313

    THF113314

    This 1966 brochure for the Treadway Publick House, at the Old Sturbridge Village living history museum, documents a typical Treadway Inn property. It was described as “A 1771 Coaching Tavern,” and visitors had the option of staying in the Inn, Treadway House (a “Colonial Farmhouse”) or the adjacent, modern Treadway Motor Inn. (Object ID 90.281.40).
    Following World War II, Treadway changed with the times and oriented itself to the automobile traveler. While maintaining “The Real New England Inns” trademark and logo, they added motor inns across the northeast and north-central United States. In 1971, the firm turned to franchising, reaching a peak of 55 inns by the mid-1970s. In the 1980s, like many aging motel chains, including competitor Howard Johnson’s, the firm sold many properties, eventually liquidating the entire chain. Today, only one hotel, in Oswego, New York, operates under the Treadway name. Many of the original coaching inns, like the Williams Inn in Williamstown, Massachusetts, and the Publick House in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, continue to operate as independent inns.

    For more insights on the Dearborn Inn and lots of great images, take a look at Jennifer Czerwick Ganem’s Images of America: Dearborn Inn (Charleston, South Carolina: Arcadia Publishing, 2011).

    Charles Sable is Curator of Decorative Arts at The Henry Ford.

    20th century, 1930s, Michigan, hotels, Ford family, Edsel Ford, Dearborn Inn, Dearborn, by Charles Sable

    Motion Picture Magazine for September 1918, "Lillian Gish"
    Motion Picture Magazine, originally published in 1911, was the first movie fan magazine. This issue for September 1918 featured movie star Lillian Gish. / THF113869

    From the beginning of the movie business, Americans wanted to know about the movies and their stars. As thousands of letters flooded movie studios, public relations departments tried to accommodate fans’ interest. By 1910, the demand for information was out of control. In February 1911, J. Stuart Blackton, head of Vitagraph Studios, helped to organize Motion Picture Story Magazine, soon shortened to Motion Picture Magazine — the first movie fan magazine.

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    California, 20th century, popular culture, movies, by Terry Hoover, archives

    The Warrior

    February 24, 2014 Archive Insight
    The First African American Auto Designer and His Car for the Third World
    McKinley Thompson Jr., an African American industrial designer, was born and raised in New York City. He knew the road he wanted to travel in life one day in October 1934. He was returning home from school in Queens when he spotted a silver-grey Chrysler DeSoto Airflow (like this 1934 model in our collections) pulling up to a traffic signal. Mr. Thompson, then just a young boy of 12, was about a half a block away. Reliving the moment for The Henry Ford in an oral history interview in 2001, Mr. Thompson recalled many of the details: “There were patchy clouds in the sky, and it just so happened that the clouds opened up for the sunshine to come through. It lit that car up like a searchlight.” He began running towards it, but the light turned green. Though the car drove off before he could get a closer look, the impact had been made. “I was never so impressed with anything in all my life. I knew [then] that that’s what I wanted to do in life—I want[ed] to be an automobile designer.” At the time, there hadn’t been a single African American car stylist.

    By 1953, Mr. Thompson was a war veteran with a family and a career as an engineering layout coordinator for the Army Signal Corps. He had reached his thirtieth birthday and could have easily settled into a comfortable existence. But he still wanted to be an automobile designer—a life goal he never lost sight of. He decided to enter a contest sponsored by Motor Trend magazine, with four winners each receiving an Art Center College of Design scholarship. His turbine car, which would incorporate reinforced plastic (an unusual choice of material at the time), won him a scholarship. He started at the Art Center in Los Angeles that same year, and was the first African American enrolled in their prestigious Transportation Design department. After graduating in 1956, he interviewed for an automotive design position with just one automaker: Ford Motor Company. He got the job.

    Mr. Thompson didn’t just land the position he had dreamed of since the day that shining car caught his eye; he made history by becoming the first African American automobile designer.

    He started at Ford’s Advanced Studio, where designers worked free from creative restrictions. On his first day, he was told by the Vice President of Ford Design, George Walker, “You can go as far as your talent will take you.” Mr. Thompson’s early design work included the Light Cab Forward truck, and he contributed sketches for the Mustang and the futuristic Gyron concept car. He also envisioned a forward-thinking project that had the potential to change the world.

    In 1965, Mr. Thompson took his innovative idea to Ford: an all-terrain vehicle for the Third World that would have economic and social consequences. He understood that rising countries needed good transportation, and that a vehicle had to satisfy the needs of the population. He knew that like the Model T, his car should be relatively easy to build and maintain, and that production costs must be kept to a bare minimum. But Mr. Thompson’s vision extended beyond this vehicle. He anticipated his auto plants—located in the developing nations that would use car—bringing jobs, better roads and eventual economic independence to host countries. He believed automobile manufacturing would “help develop the economy as it did in the United States.”

    The name he chose for the automobile that would make this grand plan possible was “the Warrior.” The car was actually intended to be the first in a series of vehicles, including a half-ton pickup truck, a six-passenger bus (an early version of the minivan), as well as boats and containers (buoys, pontoons, etc.). They would be constructed using a strong space age plastic material produced by Uniroyal called Royalex.

    Though Ford was very supportive, the company ultimately passed on the project in 1967. Mr. Thompson still believed the car could succeed, and he recruited friends to invest in or assist with developing the vehicle for the African market. One of those friends and investors was Wally Triplett, who had broken a barrier of his own in 1949 as the first African American to play in the National Football League (for the Detroit Lions).

    Mr. Thompson rented a garage on Detroit’s west side and went about building the Warrior. Still working at Ford during the day, he spent at least six hours a night—plus weekends—on the vehicle. “My family was very good about that. My wife knew how badly I wanted to do this,” he recalled. Mr. Triplett assisted, and was the only other individual involved in its construction.

    Testing the Warrior Concept Car, 1969. (In the parking lot of the Detroit Race Course, a horse racing track in Livonia, Michigan.) (Object ID 2004.40.1.1.)

    The prototype was modeled on the Renault R-10, a small four-door sedan. Indeed, the Warrior’s chassis came directly from a disassembled R-10. Base mechanical components, including the engine, were also incorporated. Renault already had a distribution system overseas, providing a ready-made parts supplier for Mr. Thompson’s customers. Mr. Thompson and Mr. Triplett designed and built the tools to form the sections of the body, which were then sent off to Uniroyal, who molded the Royalex plastic.

    While major work on the Warrior was complete by 1969, it’s likely that modifications were made to the vehicle through the mid-1970s while continued attempts were made to turn the vision into reality.

    The partners talked of building the car in Detroit themselves, but were denied a bank loan; Mr. Triplett believes race played a role. African nations were courted, but instability on the continent derailed those opportunities. As for Ford Motor Company, the automaker—like others—didn’t believe the car would sell in large enough numbers to warrant the investment. Mr. Thompson eventually stopped looking for funding, closing up shop on the Warrior in 1979. Still, he kept in touch with his project’s supporters, in the event something came up, but alas, “nothing ever came of it.”

    1974 Warrior Concept Car. (Object ID 2001.162.1.)

    Nevertheless, Mr. Thompson never lost faith in the Warrior, and kept the car as a leisure vehicle. He took it off-road in Northern Michigan’s sand dunes, and drove the car on family vacations. He even used it for running errands, usually attracting a fair amount of attention. Though the Warrior was never mass-produced, Mr. Thompson’s many years of driving the prototype proved it was a sound vehicle. The car got a respectable 35-40 miles per gallon on the highway and 25-27 in the city. Maximum speed was 75-80 mph. The Warrior is now a part of The Henry Ford collection.

    The Warrior project was ahead of its time in design and philosophy. The use of plastic, so common today, was revolutionary at the time. Mr. Thompson’s larger economic prophecy was partially fulfilled in 1995 when the URI, an all-terrain vehicle designed for African topography, was manufactured in the small town of Witvlei, Namibia. The URI plant became Witvlei’s largest employer, providing economic stability to the area.

    McKinley Thompson and the Warrior, circa 1980s. (Photograph courtesy of Terry Keefe.)

    After retiring, Mr. Thompson put together a traveling exhibit of the history of the African American designers at Ford. He wanted to show African American kids that his dream job was a career option for them, too. He traveled with the exhibit, standing next to it at malls and museums, happily fielding questions from curious visitors.

    Sadly, Mr. Thompson suffered from Parkinson’s disease later in life. McKinley Thompson Jr. passed away in 2006 at the age of 83.

    McKinley Thompson, undated. (Photograph courtesy of Terry Keefe.)

    “I regret I wasn’t able to get it going,” he lamented to The Henry Ford regarding the Warrior, a project in which he had invested so much work and faith. But he was quick to add that “God has blessed a certain number of people in the world with talent and ability and I’ve always felt that those people that have that blessing—creativity and imagination—owe it to the rest of the population to make life as good as it can be. It was rewarding to me to know that I was trying to make that kind of an effort. I felt good about that.”

    Bart Bealmear is a research support specialist in the Archives & Library at The Henry Ford.

    Learn more about the Warrior automobile, McKinley Thompson, and Wally Triplett with these sources:

    Archives materials available in the BFRC Reading Room:

    Oral History Interview with McKinley W. Thompson Regarding the 1974 Warrior Concept Car (2001.162.2)

    Wally Triplett Collection (2004.40.0). Includes the photograph album, “White Paper to Wheels” and an oral history with Mr. Triplett (2004.40.1)

    “Design Pioneers: Vanguards of Progress, Part II,” Isdesignet, September 1996. Archives Vertical File, African-American Workers – Inventions

    Books and magazine articles:

    Farrell, Jim and Cheryl. Ford Design Department: Concept and Show Cars, 1999.

    “From Dream to Drawing Board to…?,” Motor Trend, September 1953

    “Inspirations from McKinley Thompson,” Innovation, Winter 1999

    Detroit, Michigan, 20th century, Ford workers, Ford Motor Company, entrepreneurship, design, cars, by Bart Bealmear, African American history

    Our collections include Presidential artifacts and memorabilia, from George Washington to Barack Obama, but Henry Ford actually met several Presidents of the United States himself. In honor of Presidents' Day, here are snapshots of those encounters.

    taft-ford

    President William Howard Taft spoke to the Detroit Board of Commerce in 1910. Taft also visited Henry Ford’s office at the new Highland Park plant, which opened that year (THF96601).

    wilson-ford

    Henry Ford rode with President and Mrs. Woodrow Wilson during a visit to the Highland Park Plant. Wilson encouraged Henry to run for the United States Senate in 1918 (THF113675).

    wilson-ford

    President Warren Harding joined Henry Ford, Thomas Edison, and Harvey Firestone (“the Vagabonds”) on a camping trip in Maryland in 1921 (THF105486).

    harding-ford

    Henry Ford and the Vagabonds visited President Calvin Coolidge's farm in Vermont in 1924. Coolidge presented Henry with a bucket used in collecting maple syrup (THF108551).

    hoover-ford

    President Herbert Hoover visited Greenfield Village with Henry Ford and Thomas Edison for Light’s Golden Jubilee, the 50th anniversary of Edison’s incandescent light and the dedication of the Edison Institute, in 1929 – just days before the stock market crash (THF98981).

    roosevelt-ford

    President Franklin Roosevelt toured the Willow Run Plant with Henry Ford and production manager Charles Sorensen in 1942, as B-24 bomber production began. They rode around the factory in the Presidential limousine, the "Sunshine Special," which was also used by President Harry Truman (THF93105).

    Jim Orr, Image Services Specialist at The Henry Ford, and Mr. Ford have met a combined total of six United States Presidents.

    Maryland, Michigan, Detroit, 20th century, 1940s, 1920s, 1910s, presidents, photographs, Henry Ford, by Jim Orr

    The Dave Friedman Collection at The Henry Ford comprises hundreds of thousands of photographs, slides, negatives, documents, programs, and published material covering 60 years of automobile racing. We’ve just added to our digital collections nearly 900 photos from the 1962 Pacific Grand Prix, including a number, like this one, featuring our own 1962 Mustang I Roadster. You can also view more than 3,000 total Dave Friedman collection images on our collections website, or find more Friedman material on The Henry Ford’s Flickr page.


    Ellice Engdahl is Digital Collections & Content Manager at The Henry Ford.

    California, 20th century, 1960s, racing, photographs, digital collections, by Ellice Engdahl

     

    Rosa Parks Visiting Mattox House in Greenfield Village, 1992 (Object ID: P.B.108917.7)
    The Rebellious Life of Rosa ParksJeanne Theoharis’ definitive political biography of Rosa Parks sets out to correct the popular myth of Rosa Parks as the quiet, tired seamstress who refused to give up her seat on Montgomery City Lines Bus #2857. Through extensive and intricate research, Theoharis asserts that Rosa Parks spent years working courageously for civil rights. She prepared herself with an assured readiness, which she could rely on when an opportunity occurred as it did on the bus on December 1, 1955.

     

    As Theoharis points out, Parks started her political activist career at an early age, decades before she refused to give up her bus seat. Parks and husband Raymond, who met in 1931, shared a passion for taking action against segregation laws. She joined the Montgomery NAACP in 1943 as a volunteer advocate organizing black youth groups and trying to bring justice for young black women raped by white men. A few years later, she became the secretary of the NAACP — working with E.D. Nixon, president of the Montgomery NAACP chapter — to advocate for anti-lynching laws and overcoming the formidable process of registering black people to vote.

    Rosa Parks also was a strong advocate for integrating whites and blacks. In 1947, the Freedom Train, carrying historic copies of the Declaration of Independence, Constitution, Bill of Rights and the original Gettysburg Address and Emancipation Proclamation, “was scheduled to stop in Montgomery and Parks published a report objecting to Montgomery’s all-white train committee,” according to Theoharis. The national requirement that the exhibit be racially integrated was highly controversial in Montgomery, Birmingham and Memphis. Parks and her colleagues were instrumental in bringing the Freedom Train to Montgomery as they pressured city officials to ensure all children would actually enter on a first-come, first-served basis. As the Montgomery NAACP secretary, she created several campaigns for racial integration, wrote numerous press releases countering white arguments for segregation and continued to mount successive and tireless campaigns for black voter registration.

    Theoharis brings us through six decades of Parks’ courageous life as a political activist, which had serious consequences for her and her family. Great economic stress, constant harassment and people threatening physical harm and even death were now part of her life. Despite the private toll, Parks continued to publicly urge perseverance for the civil rights movement, never retiring as an advocate for racial justice.

    Theoharis’ The Rebellious Life of Mrs. Rosa Parks is an exceptional scholarly work that offers a great story for its readers and should be part of every library and classroom. This work provides a new awareness of the importance of an American icon whose real history is better and far more relevant to move our society forward than the myth of a tired seamstress.

    Review by Christian W. Øverland, former Executive Vice President of The Henry Ford.

    21st century, women's history, Rosa Parks bus, Rosa Parks, Civil Rights, by Christian W. Øverland, books, Alabama, African American history, 20th century

    Meet The Beatles
    Capitol Records released this album on January 20, 1964—just in time for the Beatles’ visit to America. THF31877
    Fifty years ago this month, Beatlemania hit America full-force. It was the Beatles’ first visit to America, a 15-day whirlwind of TV show appearances, concerts, and press conferences. The American media, struggling to capture the phenomenon in words, likened the Beatles’ visit to a military campaign. It was a “surprise attack,” a “launched invasion,” a “conquest.”

    How could a British singing group cause such pandemonium in America during a brief visit in early 1964?

    Introducing…the Beatles

    On the surface, the Beatles seemed an unlikely music group to create such a sensation in America. After all, American rock ‘n’ roll singers had long been the recognized icons of popular music. The Beatles’ British hits had received little attention through most of 1963. Capitol Records, the Beatles’ U.S. recording outlet, had thought so little of their music that the company refused to produce their records and allowed lesser-known labels to pick them up. Even these records got little airplay on the radio.

    Perhaps the outpouring of emotion during the Beatles’ first visit to America in February 1964 can be partially explained by the fact that the nation was still in mourning over a beloved President. Only weeks earlier—November 22, 1963—President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated and the aftermath of this tragic event was still making headlines. Young people took President Kennedy’s death particularly hard. With him seemed to go the optimism and the sense of possibility he had inspired. But then, mere weeks later, the Beatles appeared—bringing with them a new energy and excitement, an uncanny ability to flaunt authority, and an exuberance in their songs that rock ‘n’ roll music seemed to have lost in recent years. In her book, Where the Girls Are: Growing Up Female with the Mass Media, historian Susan Douglas described this link between President Kennedy and the Beatles:

     

    It was to fill this emotional and spiritual void, this deep grieving over a beloved, charismatic, and witty young man, that we would react to a group of four different young men, also attractive, witty and a clear departure from the past….Through the Beatles, some of us began to believe again that things were going to be all right.

     

    Life Magazine for February 21, 1964
    In the February 21, 1964 issue of Life magazine, the Kennedy assassination was still the topic of three articles (page 3, page 26, and the cover story on page 80). But the article entitled “The Beatle Invasion” (page 34) revealed a glimpse of things to come. THF230024
    In early 1964, young Beatles fans might have listened for their favorite hits with an inexpensive, hand-held transistor radio like this “Zenette” model, made by the Zenith Radio Corporation. THF102582

    For those who had been paying attention, the groundwork for the Beatles’ conquest of America had actually been laid before President Kennedy’s assassination in November. Through the summer and fall of 1963, the Beatles had slowly gained a following. A few radio deejays, intrigued by the Beatles’ sound and the attention they were getting over in Europe, occasionally managed to veer from the usual playlist to sneak in an airing of an imported copy of one of their British hits.

    At the end of 1963, listener interest reached a crescendo with airplay of the Beatles’ British hit, “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” Taking notice, Capitol Records decided to move up its own U.S. release date of this record. Rather than mid-January 1964 (to coincide with the Beatles’ Ed Sullivan Show appearances), Capitol debuted this single on December 26, 1963. The timing was perfect. In New York City alone, this single sold 10,000 copies every hour over the first three days of its release! In only 10 days, a million copies of it had been sold. Four additional Beatles singles and two albums were hastily produced and were flying off the record shelves just in time for the Beatles’ visit.

    A Day in the Life

    Certainly the most memorable and significant part of the Beatles’ visit to America in February 1964 was their appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show.” As story has it, Sullivan, who had great instincts as a talent scout, happened to be at London’s Heathrow Airport on October 31, 1963, when the Beatles returned from Stockholm, Sweden, to a mass of screaming fans. Intrigued, he investigated further and ended up negotiating with the Beatles’ manager Brian Epstein for not just one, but three shows.

    The first of these aired live on Sunday, February 9 in New York City. An estimated 74 million viewers turned on their TVs to watch Ed Sullivan’s show that night—the largest recorded audience for an American television program to date! While Beatles music was becoming familiar to the public through both the radio and their records, television had the power to add visuals—and to bring these visuals directly into people’s living rooms.

    And what visuals they were! The Beatles were like no other performers Americans had ever seen. They dressed and acted like courtly gentlemen, wearing matching suits with collarless jackets and bowing together at the end of each song. But their defining feature was their shockingly long hair, which shook and bounced around their faces as they sang.

    The American press was not kind to the Beatles after that first Ed Sullivan Show appearance. An article in The New York Times called them “young men with heads like unmade beds.” The audience was “filled with wild-eyed girls” who “bounced like dervishes and began a wild screaming as if Dracula had just appeared on stage.” But, not surprisingly, young people—especially girls—thought very differently about the experience. Historian Susan Douglas, who—as a teenager—had watched the Beatles on TV during that first Ed Sullivan Show, captured the thoughts of many like her:

     

    While I didn’t scream (because I was recording them on my dad’s reel-to-reel tape recorder), I sure felt like it. I was elated—actually filled with joy. I couldn’t stop smiling while they performed. They made me so happy, the kind of happy that overflows all the breakers in your neural system and makes you feel free. This was a happiness I could barely contain, the kind that made me want to shake my best friends and jump for joy.

     

    The Beatles’ second appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” took place the following Sunday, February 16—live from the Deauville Hotel’s Napoleon Ballroom in Miami Beach, Florida. It drew an estimated 70 million television viewers. During this show, Ed Sullivan described the Beatles as “four of the nicest youngsters we’ve ever had on the show.”

    Their final appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” was back in New York City on February 23, a show pre-recorded on February 9. By this time, the Beatles had already returned home to England.

    The Beatles’ 15-day visit to America also included press conferences, rehearsals, and concerts. At their first American concert—which took place in the Coliseum in Washington, D.C.—the Beatles had to turn and reorient themselves after every few songs because the stage was at the center. At their two concerts in New York City’s Carnegie Hall—considered America’s great shrine to classical music—they appropriately started off with Chuck Berry’s “Roll Over Beethoven.”

    Beatles Button
    This souvenir button was purchased by Stephen Majher, who happened to share an elevator with the Beatles at the Deauville Hotel in Miami Beach, Florida, during their stay there to prepare for their second appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show.” Stephen Majher was in Miami attending a convention and was unaware of the famous quartet's identity until the elevator landed and the Beatles were met by screaming fans. He commemorated the occasion by purchasing some Beatles-related souvenirs—including this button—to take home to his 14- and 7-year old daughters back in Bay City, Michigan. THF8627

    Here, There and Everywhere

    The Beatles’ conquest of America in February 1964 was, in fact, thoroughly planned and strategized—even if the Beatles themselves were pleasantly surprised by it all. In the end, victory was soundly declared.

    But during their brief visit, the Beatles had opened a door that would forever change American musical tastes, fashion, group behavior in public places, and teen culture. The conquest was complete. But the invasion had just begun.

    Record Album, "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," 1967
    Donna R. Braden is Curator of Public Life at The Henry Ford.

    1960s, 20th century, TV, radio, popular culture, music, by Donna R. Braden

    The collections of The Henry Ford contain not only much of the history of the Ford Motor Company and Henry and Clara Ford, but also records related to Henry’s son, Edsel, as well as Edsel’s children. We’ve just digitized a number of photographs of one of Henry’s grandchildren, William Clay Ford, Sr. Before he retired from Ford Motor Company in 1989, William Clay Ford was involved in many capacities with the company his grandfather founded, and also served as Chairman of the Board of Trustees of The Edison Institute (e.g., The Henry Ford) for nearly 40 years, plus 25 years as our Chairman Emeritus. In addition, he has also had a controlling interest in the Detroit Lions NFL football team for the past 50 years. In this photo, young William walks among moss-covered trees at Richmond Hill, Georgia, with his grandmother, Clara. See more images and objects related to William Clay Ford, Sr., in our online collections.


    Ellice Engdahl is Digital Collections & Content Manager at The Henry Ford.

    Georgia, Ford workers, Ford Motor Company, Michigan, 20th century, William Clay Ford, photographs, Ford family, digital collections, by Ellice Engdahl

    Did you know Henry Ford had his own personal librarian? Rachel MacDonald joined Ford Motor Company in 1925 to catalog objects acquired by Henry Ford for the educational center and history museum he envisioned--the Edison Institute, what we know today as The Henry Ford. She stayed on to build up a library of 25,000 volumes, including a complete set of the Little Orphan Annie comic strip, a favorite of her boss. She also collected, on Henry's behalf, volumes of Noah Webster's dictionaries and the McGuffey readers, and she started a compilation of verified Henry Ford quotations, among other useful resources. Many of these materials were transferred to the archives shortly after Henry Ford's death. These materials, which became part of the Ford Motor Company Archives, were later donated by the company to The Henry Ford, in 1964, and form part of our collection today.

     

    Actor Mickey Rooney and Henry Ford at Menlo Park Laboratory, Greenfield Village, 1940. (Object ID P.188.27104.A, Image ID THF98671.)

     

    MacDonald's first library at Ford was in the Highland Park plant. There she met visiting friends of Henry Ford including Thomas Edison, George Washington Carver, actor Mickey Rooney, and author Damon Runyon, when they paid calls on Henry, who thirsted after interesting conversation. Mickey Rooney, who came to Dearborn to film a movie about Edison's life, was a particular favorite of Henry's, who enjoyed the young actor's energy and high spirits.

     

    Ford Engineering Laboratory Layout, Dearborn, Michigan, circa 1924.This building was completed in December 1924 and still stands today on Oakwood Boulevard in Dearborn. Note the space for the "Dance Room" in the bottom right corner of the building plan.(Object ID P.O.9757, Image ID THF98510.)

     

    As time went on, Ford's aides increasingly limited access to the mogul, even going so far as to call ahead to places they knew Henry was going to be visiting--including the library--warning employees to hide. (By this time MacDonald was working at the Engine and Electrical Engineering or "EEE" Building now known as the POEE building, where the library had moved.) As the isolation and formality around Henry increased, he became a very lonely man, MacDonald recalled feeling. Henry turned to square dancing as a social outlet, with dances in the library every Wednesday. MacDonald often danced with Henry and observed that he would chat with her the whole time they were dancing.

    Besides notable visitors from around the country and the world, the Ford grandchildren were frequent visitors to the library. MacDonald remembered that Henry II and Benson liked to slide around on the highly polished floors (Henry always liked to keep things in fine finish) as though they were at a skating rink.

     

    Clara Ford and Henry Ford birdwatching at "The Bungalow," Dearborn, Michigan, 1910-1915. Henry and Clara soon selected this secluded site for their Fair Lane estate. (Object ID P.O.701, Image ID THF96013.)

     

    Both Henry and Clara Ford were avid birders, and they created a bird sanctuary on their Dearborn estate, Fair Lane. One of MacDonald's favorite anecdotes to relate about her days at Ford was the time Henry called her with an urgent request for information on the "correct size for a hole in a wren house." She found the answer (⅞ of an inch) and promptly informed him. She later learned that Henry had been inspecting the wren houses built on his grounds by his staff and thought that the holes were too large. A larger hole would allow other bird species, including the ubiquitous sparrow, to invade. Upon learning that the holes were not the correct size, Henry, ever the stickler, had them all recut.

    In an interview with the Detroit Free Press given around her retirement, MacDonald had more recollections about Henry Ford and the library she helped him amass. Ford was not popularly thought to have had much use for books, but MacDonald countered that he was in fact very interested in them. Henry wanted have a collection of books on hand on all manner of subjects should the need arise for him--or his staff--to look something up. He was, according to MacDonald, a frequent visitor to her library and would spend time there skimming through books, often walking off with one in his pocket. (According to her and others at Ford Motor Company, it was at Henry's insistence that many company publications were pocket-sized, reflecting his preference for portable reading material. Think what he might have done with a smartphone or an e-reader today!) Another useful resource that she and other Engineering Library staff created and kept available at the library for their knowledge-hungry boss was a vertical file on the many topics he was interested in. It is still available for research today as the Engineering Library Vertical File, in many ways a window into Henry Ford's mind.

    As an interesting aside, though MacDonald was her married name, Rachel MacDonald was always referred to within the company as "Miss"--perhaps a reflection of different times and moeurs, when a married woman was not expected to remain in the workforce (or indeed, was expected not to remain there).

    MacDonald, who had studied library science in Massachusetts before moving to Michigan, kept active professionally and was a charter member and president of the Michigan chapter of the Special Libraries Association. She retired in 1963 after long career as a librarian at Ford (37 years). MacDonald died at the age of 83 in 1981, in Florida, where she had moved after she retired.

    As Neil Gaiman has famously noted (to the extent that it has become an Internet meme), "Google can bring you back 100,000 answers, a librarian can bring you back the right one." While today, the answer to the "wren question," and many others, is available at our fingertips, Rachel MacDonald's work at the Ford Engineering Library shows how important both amassing a wealth of resources and deploying the expert knowledge to use those resources were in the time before online search. Today, the field is more democratized in terms of the knowledge and resources that are available, but experts (like my colleagues in the archives, library, and museum professions) are still needed to help identify, collect, preserve, and promote access to important information and artifacts--and in this digital age, to ensure that more and more resources are made available online for all.

    Sources

    Newspaper clippings for MacDonald, Rachel, in the Ford Biographical Vertical File, Benson Ford Research Center, The Henry Ford.

    Noble, William T., "Librarian Remembers Henry Ford as 'Lonely,'" Detroit Free Press, January 6, 1963, pp. 1E-2E.

    Michigan, Dearborn, Detroit, Ford workers, 20th century, women's history, research, Henry Ford, Ford Motor Company, Ford family, books, archives