1973 Plymouth Fury Gran Sedan
VIN: PP43-K3D-148853
Engine: 360 CUI, V-8 2 Barrel Carburetor
Exterior Color: Forest Green Poly with Full Vinyl Top
Interior Color: Green
Assembly Plant: Belvidere, Ilinois
Assembly Date: October 5, 1972
Dealership: O’Leary-McClintock Motors, St. Ann, Missouri
Original Purchase Date: October 30, 1972
Stock condition photos © Kevin Lozaw. All Rights Reserved. "Plymouth of Perpetual Enlightenment" photo courtesy of Rhody Ringrose.
Backstory
This 1973 Gran Fury Sedan was my traveling companion during my first foray onto the open road in an old Plymouth—a journey along old Route 66—and the inspiration for my current collection.
In early 2003, a career opportunity brought me to Los Angeles, not far from the end (or beginning, in my case) of the iconic Route 66. I decided to travel along that storied roadway and do so in a vintage automobile. Of course, to me “automobile” meant “Plymouth,” and “vintage” meant a Plymouth Fury of the type Dad had driven. To my delight, a quick Internet search revealed an online auction for a “Mint, All-Original 1973 Plymouth Gran Fury Sedan” with a low minimum bid. Not completely comfortable at that time with technology transactions, I bid the minimum, then continuously monitored the site over the next few days, nervously anticipating the feverish bidding certain to erupt as the auction ticked to a close.
I could have avoided a great deal of angst by shutting down my computer. I won. In fact, I was the only bidder. I have learned a great deal about online auctions since then. One early lesson: if you are the only bidder, you are like the guy who did not get the text that the flash mob location had changed—everyone else knows something you do not. You might as well wear a sign that says “The Greater Fool Theory Stops Here.” I learned this particular lesson when the car arrived on a flat-bed truck a week later. For one thing, it turned out “Mint” described the faded green color, not the condition. For another, “All Original” is not necessarily a great attribute in a 30-year-old car. When the Fury shuddered to a halt at the repair shop nearest the spot where the flat-bed had deposited it, the first mechanic to greet me just gaped. “I need to get this fixed up,” I told him, “what do you think?” He looked at my new purchase a long time before responding. “You know how the Navy sometimes sinks old battleships to create artificial reefs?” he said. Then he shrugged. “I’m just sayin’.” And he walked away. Fortunately, the shop owner quickly appeared, his irises seemingly shaped like dollar signs. Several paychecks later, the Gran Sedan was road-worthy and headed east.
I hope someday to share the story of my Route 66 adventure, which begins with the repair shop owner cautioning me, “Well, she runs okay, but I wouldn’t take her on any long trips.” For now, I will bookend the summary of my ownership with the history of what came before and after my time with the car.
The Gran Sedan began its life as a special-order vehicle delivered to O’Leary-McClintock Motors, a Chrysler-Plymouth dealer just outside St. Louis, Missouri. Before the car could be delivered to the customer who ordered it, a husband and wife who were related to a salesman at the dealership spotted the car and decided they had to have it. The couple had just
sold their 1967 Plymouth Station Wagon at the urging of the salesman, so he felt obliged to accommodate them. They drove off in the Gran Sedan, and the salesman quickly special-ordered another car for the original customer.
Over the next 20 years, the Gran Sedan served as a daily driver and dependable workhorse for a family of five, often used for vacation travel from Florida to California, sometimes pulling a dirt bike trailer or a small camper. In later years, the car’s cavernous trunk proved useful in transporting treasures found at yard sales and flea markets. By 1993, the owners had switched to a small pickup truck, and none of their kids was interested in a car so big it required its own zip code. The Gran Fury was relegated to a barn, occasionally employed in yard-sale duty, until one day in 2003 someone from Arkansas spotted the car and offered to buy it. The family could not imagine why anyone would want that car, except perhaps to use it in a demolition derby. They apparently were not familiar with the Greater Fool Theory.
When my Route 66 journey ended, I shipped the Gran Sedan back to California with a dream of restoration. No reputable shop wanted to touch it (“You’d save a ton of money if you just built a new one from scratch,” one guy told me). Not having any place to store the car, and learning that creating an artificial reef was not a viable option, I handed the keys to a body shop owner and auto enthusiast in Northern California who wanted to convert the Gran Sedan into an “art car.” I was not clear on his intentions until he sent me pictures of his creation, the “Plymouth of Perpetual Enlightenment.” (See photo of car with smokestacks.) For several years, the “PoPE mobile” appeared as a Mutant Vehicle at the Burning Man Festival in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada.
Stanley B. McClintock, Sr. and Arthur M. O’Leary established O’Leary-McClintock Motors as a St. Louis DeSoto and Plymouth dealership in 1936, after operating a used car dealership under that name since 1932. When DeSoto disappeared in the early 1960s, the dealership acquired the Chrysler and Imperial franchises. Mr. O’Leary died in 1964, at age 61; Mr. McClintock in 1968, at age 68. By the time the Gran Fury arrived at the dealership in 1972, ownership of the business had passed to Raymond E. Deschamp, previously the general manager. O’Leary-McClintock closed in March of 1974, shortly after Mr. Deschamp’s death.