Forgive the nostalgia which follows, most of which has nothing to do with air conditioning.
Reminds me of our first car with air conditioning--a 1956 Packard Caribbean that my dad bought in about 1958. As I recall, it had everything--a/c, cruise control, leveling shocks (which meant you could alight on an even plane if parked on a slope--unfortunately they tended to get stuck, and you would ride around with one end of the car high in the air for a couple of days), automatic radio antenna, and a radio that, with a push of the button, would seek out the strongest station (which, in the South of that era, was probably some evangelist spouting stuff that made little sense). White leather reclining seats. Vinyl roof. Pushbutton transmission selection in the middle of the steering wheel ("where it should be!"--like an Edsel!).
Years ahead of its time. Which it was. None of this stuff worked, or at least worked only fitfully. It was like an intergalactic spacecraft that had been wired by Lucas! It had a flathead straight 8, automatic transmission, and would, if moved to do so, run like a bat out of a Tim Burton movie. But it didn't run very often, including the first time we took it out, when it stalled at a stop sign a few blocks from our house, shut down and wouldn't restart, and I decided, at age 10, to walk home, saying, "See you later, Lemonmobile!"
Daddy was, like most men of his era, a segregationist, and his choice of white cars, which lasted from about 1958 through the next dozen or so years, now strikes me as significant--symbolic. At some point there, he switched to gray, which must also have some kind of meaning. Those of you who grew up in the South in this era will know what I mean. Others may have a hard time understanding it. We look back on those times and see that there are, perhaps, levels of symbolism we didn't see at the time. As for air-conditioning, I still know people here--in the tumid, humid Gulf Coast--who prefer to live without it. They have my sympathy, but not my understanding. Like people who fly Confederate battle flags (which never flew over any Confederate capital building) as symbols of what they call "pride." Let's get on with it, folks! Stay cool!
At one point Daddy had that Packard loaded on a train and shipped to Detroit to have it fixed. But it never got fixed. One thing after another, most of them in rapid succession.but it never ran for more than a few days at a time.
Perhaps, indicating his stubbornness and brand loyalty, the next car he bought was a Studebaker (which had absorbed hapless Packard by then). But it was a Lark, the most stripped-down, unadorned, white-on-white vehicle one could imagine. Bone white. Gray plastic interior. He was a traveling salesman and got, I think, about 200,000 miles out of it before trading for a Plymouth Valiant (off-white, gray interior), equally proletarian and even more reliable. Neither of which had any a/c.
Then, after we thought he'd learned his lessons for good, he switched to early 60s Thunderbirds. I took my driver's test on one of these, a metallic gold 63 model, and loved the bullet-like look of the car. But driving it was like trying to roller skate on a teflon rink! You always had the feeling that, at any moment of stress, you'd look out the side window and see your own rear bumper passing you. Still it had one redeeming feature, a "pull-aside" steering column that significantly expanded the front seating area and access to the back seat. Think: drive-in movies.
In his later years he shifted to Oldsmobiles, which he swore by, and ended his mortal term with a Chevy Bel-Aire and, later, a Vega. By that time, he didn't have far to go, in both the literal and the metaphoric sense. They were awful cars, but they got him reliably to the hospital and back.
My sophomore year in college (1967) I was severely injured (knee) in spring football practice. This turned out ok because I eventually went 4-F in the middle of Vietnam (though I actually was in ROTC and wanted to stay in because of the monthly stipend); still, we ended up with a nice insurance settlement after my hospitalization because I was covered under our family health policy and the school's team policy as well. So, with the money, I said I wanted a car. I'd had a 1960 Mercury Comet for a year (possibly the absolute nadir--not to mention Nader--of American auto design) and it was running, well, erratically.
I was hooked on British sports cars (I can't exactly recall why--James Bond?), and I tried out a few--MGB and an especially tacky sounding Spitfire GT. Amazingly there was someone (moved to our locale--new job, new father, etc.) in our small NC town who had a Sunbeam Tiger for sale. We tried it, she was oh-so-solid, the price was right ($1800 as I recall), and she was mine! I drove her for two blissfull years (the two last, best years of college and, perhaps, my happiness in life) and have missed her ever since.
This is why I am on this forum and beginning what is now an old man's fool's quest to get some small portion of that past back before it's gone forever. Bless you all, and bless the Sunbeam marque. I love it that so many good folks are devoted to keeping these cars on the roads, and I hope to join you there soon.
All of which has little to do with the history of air-conditioning. But does, in a way. It's all about being cool. Driving a Sunbeam is cool. Stay cool, my friends.
Sam
