Hudson


Some of the buildings on West 6th Street from the 1940s are gone now and empty lots where they stood. Things were changed, buildings knocked down after I graduated from Bay High in 1953 and from the University of Florida in 1957 and moved away for forty years. Those several blocks look different enough that they don’t stir strong recollections, and they are rundown compared to sixty years ago. The area was active then, the railroad station, and Lokey’s Ice Plant, and Bill Yost’s auto supply store (they were members of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in the early 1950s, he was on the vestry with my father, and their daughter Barbara was a year or two ahead of me at Bay High). Earl Waterfield’s Supreme Ice Cream shop was next to the ice plant, and we used to drop in frequently for a pineapple or orange or lime coolerator -- sherbet with 7-Up or milk blended in the milkshake machine.    
It’s pretty shabby down there now, and my memory slips about exact locations, but in the middle and late 1940s the Crosley dealership was down there, and the Hudson dealership, both on the north side of W. 6th Street, the even-numbered side. I need to check old phone books actually, and Rayford may remember exactly; but it seems to me that the building still standing at 236 W. 6th Street was the Hudson dealership. 

Seems to me that it was set back like that so customers could drive up out front and park, and with the service entrance to the left and the showroom to the right, with a showroom just big enough for one car. But I’m not positive that's the building. 
I remember Hudson cars fondly. My grandparents had a Hudson touring car and a Model T Ford in 1920 when, devastated by Alfred’s death in 1918, they abandoned Bay Fisheries and the seafood business, left St. Andrews, and drove to Ocilla, Georgia, where my grandfather was a Ford dealer for a couple of years. My grandmother always had chickens, and my father and his sisters remembered that both cars had chicken coops strapped to the front fenders for the trip -- which was not on highways but on unmarked two-rut dirt roads through the woods. 
The Hudson Motor Car Company was formed in 1909 by Joseph L. Hudson and seven business associates, and in 1910 began producing a motorcar called the Hudson. J.L. Hudson died in 1912 and Roy D. Chapin headed the firm until his death in 1936. My earliest Hudson memory is of the Hudson Terraplane in the late 1930s, to me an uncommonly homely motorcar.

The 1940s Hudsons, like all other American cars, were the same except for minor annual styling changes, from pre-war through the end of the 1940s. 

In those days, like other manufacturers, Hudson made a distinctive styling difference between their low line Super and the top line Commodore. Chrome trim parking lights atop the front fender were different, as were the tail lights. The maroon car is a Commodore (meant to be more elegant), the blue one a Hudson Super:

and the Super had a cheap-looking dashboard and plain steering wheel with horn button instead of horn ring, while the Commodore interior was plush and luxurious. Hudson cars in those days offered a choice of either six or eight cylinder engine, flat head. These are Commodore convertibles.

A Hudson Super coupe, 1946, '47 -- at least at first glance. However, the chrome on this red car, the double strip of chrome at the beltline, and the chrome around the side windows, and the chrome strip instead of black fabric separating the rear fender from the body indicate this car could be a Commodore. I'd have to look at the tail lights to be sure. The only sign it's a Super is the lack of chrome and parking lights over the front headlights -- which could be the work of a restorer.

Hudson Commodore sedan. Notice the fancier chrome and parking light above the headlights.

Hudson Super two-door sedan, plain fender-top:


Blue Commodore above. There's that maroon Commodore sedan, 1946, '47:

One of the most startling, and then beautiful, brand new post-war cars was the 1948 Hudson with “step-down” design, low, sleek, and close to the road. Notice, the grill-top bar with the Hudson emblem is a carry-over from 1947, for brand ID. The new body style still had a two-piece windshield, but the new model had a curved windshield instead of flat:


The blue Hudson Commodore sedan has the windshield visor that was popular for a few years before cars were air conditioned. We never had one, but they made it difficult to see the traffic light.



The yellow convertible is a Hudson Commodore. Notice the difference in the tail light design for the Commodore, versus the tail light on the Super series for the same year (below). The Super was meant to be distinctively plainer.

Our neighbors the Sheffields traded their 1936 or ’37 Dodge for a new Hudson Commodore in 1948, and it was the sleekest car in the neighborhood, much sleeker than our 1948 Dodge (same year model), which was a carryover from the pre-war Dodge. 
About 1951, Hudson introduced the Hudson Hornet, a supercharged six-cylinder car that was all the rage on the racing circuits, very hot, popular seller. My uncle Wilbur had a Hudson Hornet for a while back then. Wilbur always drove a hot car, and drove it fast. Before the Hudson Hornet, he had a Mercury V8.



Besides the Commodore, Super and Hornet, there was a Hudson Pacemaker, and a Hudson Wasp. Getting into the smaller, compact car market, Hudson manufactured the Hudson Jet for some years.
As an automobile manufacturer gets near to the end of the run for a body model, they start crapping them up (the reader should pardon the expression) with stupid paint jobs and weird strips of chrome. That happened to the 1948 Hudson body style as it grew obsolete six years later. This is the same car by 1954:

The merger of Nash-Kelvinator Corporation and Hudson 
Motorcar Company created American Motors in 1954. It was headed for several years by George Romney, who introduced the Compact Car to America and helped us get started with decades of downsizing. But this is not a political blog, so that's as far as I'm going down the Romney road.
The final two or three years, Hudson cars were actually restyled Nash cars, appallingly glitzy and gaudy.  






The names Hudson and Nash finally disappeared in 1957. 
All models from that point on were called Rambler. Linda and I had two Rambler station wagons, a 1956 and a 1961, and loved them both.
Tom