1964 Thunderbird: The Edward Scissorhands of Droptops
Feeling lucky, punk? Well, with zero forethought, you should buy a big, dysfunctional convertible and climb into the trunk, where its psychotic droptop mechanism then closes in on you like Indiana Jones’ dungeon of doom. In the summer of 1975, that’s exactly what happened to me in the 1964 Ford Thunderbird seen here. Rangoon Red with a 390-cid V-8, a black top, factory air, power windows, a Swing-Away wheel, and cruise control, it utterly glistened with luxury features. And I was equally gilded with naivete.
As explained by the seller, a scraggly beach rat I’d met near Sunset Boulevard in West Los Angeles, the convertible had been “stuck in some lady’s garage.” The complex relay system that synchronized the top, trunk lid, and articulating steel deck lid’s movements had hiccupped, locking them vertically and trapping the car in situ. To extract his quarry, cunning Beach Rat Dude removed the clevis pins from the four hydraulic cylinders, re-nested the top and trunk lid, and then started the big-block and drove away. The owner must have nearly given her Thunderbird away, because he flipped it to me for $150 and presumably made a profit. Ahh, the Seventies!
Ford used a network of electromechanical and hydraulic wizardry to sequentially raise the trunk lid, deploy the folding deck lid (tonneau), and stow the top into the trunk at the press of a switch—all “with beguiling ease,” claimed a ’64 T-Bird brochure. Behind the scenes, however, lurked a Medusa-esque wiring harness; a bevy of electric motors; relays; contact switches and circuit breakers; the hydraulic cylinders and their pump and solenoids; a pair of cable-operated worm gears; and some two-dozen steel hinges.
My fancy new convertible’s key problem was that one of its limit switches, which helped sequence movement of the various top assemblies, was out of adjustment, causing the whole dog and pony show to falter. And that’s how I found myself, clutching screwdrivers and wrenches, wedged inside the trunk between the top and trunk lid one afternoon. One wrong adjustment later, and the trunk lid suddenly began closing in on me, with no apparent way to stop it. A frantic yell to a friend had him sprinting to open the hood and pull a battery cable just in time. Nearly trapped, crushed, and tinned like a mackerel, it could have been curtains. He’s never let me forget it.
And the T-Bird, you may have guessed, was no keeper.
I believe it was all the same mechanical mumbo jumbo as used on the 1967-1959 Ford Skyliners, but with a soft top instead of hardtop. Fun plot for a movie: young guy in the 70s buys an old T-Bird out of a junkyard, with its top up and trunk stuck closed. Finally gets it open, only to find a skeleton clutching tools.
I’d go see that for a dollar!
At least these can be worked on and repaired as opposed to modern folding hardtops with computer chips that are obsolete at the end of the model run (XLR).
Tell that to the skeleton in Jim’s movie!
Yea but back in 64 …? They thought sixty years later everyone would be flying to work like George Jetson.
I thought that too, thanks to Popular Mechanics.
The top on my 2007 Corvette does an elaborate dance of opening the tonneau, flipping back the top and folding it, then covering it up with the tonneau again. Kids are mesmerized. I’m hopeful their dads are impressed.
Until it doesn’t work.
To fix a convertible you have to be smarter than the convertible. Apparently I’m not. Fortunately the Chevy dealer is – for $1,200.
The old tops are fun to watch but they look pretty complicated.
I have a ’64 conv I’ve had for 46yrs. The most impractical car you can find, handles like a whale, loves lots of supreme fuel, seats only 4, very little trunk space with top down, very complicated top operation. Not my daily driver. The only way to own one is to learn how to trouble shoot the top operation. I bought a ’64 Lincoln conv from a salvage yard to educate myself on the system. My every day driver is a Mazda Miata, best car ever.
I too have had my ’64 Thunderbird convertible for 46 years. Wife & I drove it to hot August nights back in ’99. But then my daughter was born & life became more complex & the bird took a back seat. Still have the car… I really should unearth it & go cruising.
I occasionally wonder that about my Boxster’s top: there’s a lot going on there with all that synchronized activity.
Fortunately, it can be pretty easily bypassed to manual operation. I just wouldn’t want to pay to have it fixed.
‘ had a well-funded friend back in HS, who used to show off by putting the similar electric convert roof of his family’s opera-door `60’s Lincoln up and down, while the car was moving – he might still be available for a cameo in your T-birf top movie. PS – don’t try this at home – showboating’s dangerous. PPS – my own family had the same kinda retractible hardtop on a beautiful `58-59 T-bird, and that top worked just fine back then and was one of many neat features, including fighter jet-like taillights, that made the car special. wouldn’t even want a regular hard top model. too bad it drove like a swamped boat and had no useful trunk space, so it’s long gone now. / sn
The nice thing about the Boxster is that you don’t lose any trunk space when you put the top down. Somehow it’s all magically tucked away, with no difference open or closed. Of course, the frunk has even more space. I have never managed to fill it all. Pretty darn good for a 23 year old car!
Common sense like that is why the Boxter saved Porsche from bankruptcy.
Personally, I love them, low, sleek and clean.
I owned 3 of them all at one time, a ‘65, my first, followed by a’66 Q-code 428, and finally my ‘62 roadster clone.
I quickly became versed in how to fix them, not too terribly hard if you consider each step as a separate function before it moves onto the next. I got to where I would repair non-functioning tops for folks in our Thunderbird club.
Me, my wife and friends had a blast in the ‘65 when my wife and I dated.
Had to sadly sell the ‘65 and ‘66 when I had to start over with a new career. Still own the’62 which is going through a restoration.
That sounds like the script for one of the episodes of “Emergency”… Squad 51 to the rescue!