By on April 2, 2010

They say you can’t go home again. True enough, but as you read this, Edward and the rest of my family and I will be winging our way to Baltimore for a long overdue family reunion. My father recently turned ninety, and my mother will be eighty-seven soon. So what is the obvious choice of today’s Curbside Classic? The Niedermeyer family car from the early sixties, a black 1962 Fairlane, and in every way exactly like this one, except that ours was the base stripper, not the deluxe 500 like this one. That alone tells you something about the old man.

If you want to properly place this Fairlane in the Niedermeyer family history, here’s the corresponding chapter of the Autobiography. Or the Cliff Notes version: We emigrated from Austria in 1960 to Iowa City, Iowa, my father having been recruited to the University of Iowa, and bought a used 1954 Ford Mainline sedan upon our arrival. Six year old cars back then were already geriatric; my five year old xB is barely a teenager in comparison. The ’54 Ford blue whale was roomy for a family of six, and did the job, mostly, except for not wanting to break its slumber on cold winter mornings. But it was feeling its age, so one day in the winter of 1962, my father unexpectedly showed up with this black Fairlane, bare bones except for the brand new 221 CID V8 and the Ford-O-Matic. I had very mixed emotions.

Yes, it was a new car, not just factory fresh, but the ’62 Fairlane was a totally new creature from Detroit: the first intermediate-sized car from the Big Three. Sure, Ramblers of the times were essentially mid-sized cars, and perhaps the Studebaker Lark should best be considered one too. And it was the remarkable success of the Ramblers that undoubtedly inspired Ford to take the lead with the new Fairlane.

Keep in mind, this was just two years after Ford’s smash success with the Falcon. And just as the Falcon was the basis for the Mustang in 1964, so it also sired the Fairlane. In fact, it would be fair to say that the Fairlane was just a stretched Falcon, the kind of thing done routinely nowadays. And just to confuse matters even more, the Mercury Comet slotted in between the two in length, although it used the narrower width Falcon body. That kept me scratching my head back then. Ford was ahead of the times, and if you wonder where Lee Iacocca got his inspiration for endless variations and different lengths for all the Chrysler K-cars, here it is. History inevitably repeats itself.

So why wasn’t I as excited as I could/should have been as a nine year old car fanatic when Dad shows up with the first brand new car ever? Let me count the ways, starting with the neighbors across the street. They had a matching brace of 1960 Bonnevilles; a hardtop sedan for him, and the wagon for her. I obsessed on them, and had my heart set on the 1962 versions for the Niedermeyer livery. The fact that the car-nut in the family wasn’t even consulted alone was hard to take, but that pattern was to repeat itself endlessly, except for two notable exceptions.

Given the fact that we weren’t exactly a touchy-feely sort of family, I definitely had my eye on a wagon with a third seat for a little elbow room. In 1962, my sister was fourteen, my older brother twelve, and my younger brother three. The painful reality is that the Fairlane is roughly about the size of today’s Civic or Corolla. Extended skin contact with siblings was not my idea of how to spend two days straight on our vacation trips to Colorado.  And before I forget, nobody ever rode in the front middle; we had to do skin contact; he didn’t.

Our Fairlane was utterly stripped of any excess ornamentation, worthy of taxi-cab service. But in my father’s eye, the cheap seat upholstery was something to be well preserved, so he ordered a set of clear plastic seat covers from Fingerhut, the perfectly smooth ones, not the more expensive ones with raised bumps on them to create channels to drain the rivulets of sweat away. No, that would have been extravagant. We literally had to peel ourselves off those seats in the summer, given the short shorts of the era.

It gets worse. My dear father always had a severe issue with drafts, especially around his neck. And he’s always cold; rarely will you see him without a cardigan (or two), even in the summer. So only the front windows were allowed to be opened a tiny crack, even on the hottest summer days. Air conditioning? What’s that? So that’s how we spent two days each way driving to Colorado every summer, and on other trips. But it gets worse yet! In 1964, we were all two years older and much bigger, and my mother was seven months pregnant, and we all crammed in for a three day torture session to the New York World’s Fair, and then back again.  If a child was forced today to endure what we did on that trip, jammed into that hot black Fairlane, and the resulting expressions of emotions it engendered, the Child Protective Services would have cut that trip well short, somewhere in Ohio, I’d say. Father, somehow I still love you, despite the miserable cramped black Fairlane you tortured us/yourself with. Didn’t you know you could buy a full-sized wagon for just a few hundred dollars more?

He finally (almost) tumbled to that in 1965, when the Fairlane was traded in on a 1965 Dodge Coronet eight-seat wagon; technically still a mid-sized, but a huge improvement. Since it coincided with my sister’s departure from the family fold, skin contact issues took a huge step forward. Kids today have no idea what we endured back then. And kids in the Depression would undoubtedly have thought us to be spoiled babies. And so on…

Enough Niedermeyer family carma. The Fairlane wasn’t quite the success that the Falcon was. But then that was a monster, selling almost a half million in its first year. Nevertheless, it was another coup for Ford in its ability to expand at the expense of GM in the early-mid sixties, by expanding into niches that hadn’t been exploited fully yet. And undoubtedly, the Fairlane was developed and built on the cheap, given its Falcon bones. The only noteworthy thing about it was it was the first car to use Ford’s brand new small-block Windsor V8. Why the hell Ford chose to build it in a 221 cubic inch version, with a modest 145 (gross) hp is hard to fathom. By mid-year, the larger 260 CID version already debuted along with the bucket-seated 500 coupe. And a year and a half later, the definitive 289 replaced them all. Ford like to keep the boring machines guessing.

The little 221 was a smooth and tidy mill, but it was no more powerful than the Chevy 230 or the Chrysler 225 slant sixes, and because it had eight cylinders, it intrinsically had a less favorable torque curve. After 1963, the 221 inch V8 was gone; an oddity of Ford history. But the fact that our stripper Fairlane at least had the little V8 was its redeeming grace. That badge on the front fender meant more to my self esteem during that difficult period in my life than my father will ever know. I might not be who I am today because of it. Thanks, Dad!

My sister used to come to pick me up from grade school every Wednesday to drive me and a friend to the all-city orchestra rehearsal. On the one slightly longer stretch of road near the school we would goad her to floor it. She obliged, but we had to floor and kick-down our imaginations to experience some sort of true and visceral accelerative experience. With the two-speed Ford-O-Matic (technically it was a three speed, but one had to engage Low manually, which sis was not doing) the little V8 whispered rather than bellowed its efforts to accelerate the fairly light 2800 lb sedan.

This particular forlorn Fairlane sits in front of an old house near downtown, owned by a couple of young sisters who live in the upstairs apartment. I know this because it has a For Sale sign on it now, and I talked to the guy who lives below them. He’s tired of looking at it, and told me that they would probably take anything for it, since the next stop is the junk yard if no one steps up. He encouraged me, eager to rid himself of the eyesore. I though about it briefly, but then I remembered the words: you can’t go home again. And even if I could, I’m not so sure I’d want to.

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38 Comments on “Curbside Classic: 1962 Ford Fairlane...”

  • avatar

    Great article — thanks! It brought back fond memories of our family’s road trip from Connecticut to the 1964 New York World’s Fair in our Ford Country Squire station wagon.

    Looks like it’s time to mow the carpet in your curb-side classic.


  • avatar
    Dr Lemming

    The 1962+ Fairlane/Meteor were on a four-inch wider platform than the Falcon/Comet. This wasn’t just extra flab — the basic structure was wider. This platform was updated until 1972, when it got a complete redo. In 1966 the Falcon was switched to the Fairlane platform (thus the wagon body style was identical to the Fairlane’s from the cowl back). The Mustang stayed on the narrower Falcon platform through 1970, but the Maverick inherited it in 1969 1/2. The 1975+ Granada/Monarch was based upon the Maverick platform (which helps explain its relative lack of “tuck under” on the rocker panels).

    Henry Ford II was leery about the company’s proliferation of platforms, but Ford also did very well in out innovating GM during the 1960s. So that extra overhead was arguably worth it.

  • avatar
    Dave M.

    Twotone – where in CT? New Haven ourselves…

    Paul, great job! In our case, it was the cramped Chrysler because of extended family. With the windows up. And smokers.

    CPS indeed.

  • avatar

    Enjoy your stay in Charm City…I’ll be there too for Easter. Considering the weather’s supposed to be perfect (knock on wood), I’m hoping to see one or two CCs on the inevitable spring constitutional.

  • avatar

    I’m glad to see that we weren’t the only family to outgrow our Fairlane, either. We had a 62 Fairlane 500 in red with the 260, bought used in 1964. It replaced a 1957 Fairlane 500 (mit 312 Thunderbird V8), also bought used, and suffered mightily from the tinworm, not uncommon in Northeast Ohio. The only way I know this, is from old family photos and stories. I’m as old as your feature car.

    From what I’m told, the 62 Fairlane was a step up in reliability and fuel mileage (oh those pragmatic Germans), but with me as a toddler, and my older sister married off already, there were no skin contact issues, at least until we traded the Fairlane in for a VW Fastback. Of which it was neither. THAT was a miserable experience, as I am old enough to remember that car, vividly 40 years later!

    When I was about 14, a neighbor dragged home a golden 62 Fairlane Sport Coupe, in hopes of driving it, but it was mechanically too far gone. It had a 260, with Cruise O Matic, the bucket seats, and a nice ribbed console down the middle of the gold interior.

    It sat in his side yard for two or three years, before the township forced him to scrap it. During that time, I became familiar with the car, and had offered him a few hundred dollars for it, a fair sum IMO for a car that old at that time. I would have really liked to get that car, as it was fairly well preserved for a Ford in steel country. But he flat out refused.

    I eventually got my Fairlane fix, a 69 with a 390 and a 4 speed, just as gas prices rose in 1980-1981.

    For me, as usual, pefect timing.

  • avatar

    My first new car memory was a ’63 Merc Meteor with the 260 V-8 and 2-speed auto. I wonder why my dad never thought to move the battery to just in front of the driver’s seat for better weight distribution, as in the black Fairlane above.

  • avatar

    Well, that certainly was funny, with the cramming of you all into that small back seat. My only vaguely comparable experience was the ride from Menlo Park CA to Cambridge MA in the ’50 Studebaker, end of the summer, ’57. There, it wasn’t that we were cramped in the Stude, far from it. The kids then, were just my brother and me, six and four. But there was also Mab, the 75 lb airedale, who occasionally kicked us onto the floor, and stretched herself across the back seat.

    We took the subsequent two x-country trips in the ’57 Chevy wagon, and I suspect (although I don’t remember) that Mab was mostly in the way back, although on at least one of those trips, we traveled mostly with the back seat down. Anyway, space was ample.

    There were three of us, however, 1965-66, when we took numerous trips in the Peugeot 404 wagon from Paris, ultimately touring the continent the summer of ’66. Still, we had it over you. Miriam was only 3, and often amusing to my brother and me (now 15 and 13), we were both pretty slender, and my parents often indulged my desire to drive vicariously by letting me sit shotgun.

    For those who weren’t around in the ’50s and ’60s, Paul is absolutely right about how quickly cars went geriatric.

    By the way, Paul, where’s my congrats for IDing all the cars in the photo with the Quasar?

    Congrats to you on the Old Man’s 90th. I hope you have a terrific time in Balmer.

  • avatar

    We had a new ’63 Fairlane wagon.

    There were 4 of us kids when dad brought it home. There were 7 and one on the way when he got rid of it. Let’s not even talk skin contact.

    In those more innocent (e.g. stupider) times, we’d put the rear seat down, then we kids would spread out blankets and sleep while Dad made time.

    • 0 avatar

      Exactly what my cousins and I used to do in the back of my mom’s ’64 Falcon wagon.

      I still have the scar on my back from the flying glass (a crash 45 years ago this holiday weekend outside Lancaster, California). I was lying face down. My cousin who was lying on her back took God-knows how many stitches over her eye.

  • avatar
    Martin Schwoerer

    From the “information nobody asked for” corner, I’d like to add that there was a (pretty lousy) movie that has a connection to this car, if only in name: “The Adventures of Ford Fairlane”. It starred Andrew “Dice” Clay who I remember as Emcee was kicked off the stage of the MTV Music Awards, because he used the word “fuck” too often.

    • 0 avatar

      Hey, that’s my movie you’re badmouthing, Snapperhead!!! As far as his fans are concerned, the Diceman didn’t say the word enough. And if you’re a fan of “The Adventures of Ford Fairlane,” you can vote for a sequel (and buy a signed copy of the original stories the movie was based on) at Or follow Ford on Twitter at

  • avatar

    Sorry, Niedermeyer, but my father from hell stories easily beat yours. My parents were refugees from communist Eastern Europe. By comparison, Austria would have been like Shangri-La compared to where my folks started from. As far as my father was concerned, any form of wheeled transport that wasn’t an oxcart was absolute luxury. His first car as a new American citizen was a stripper 64 Ford Falcon with the wheezie 170 six and two speed auto, he held on to it until the the mid 1970’s. Dear old dad was of the opinion that replacing anything on a car before it broke was insane — an indulgence of soft Americans. You can guess what happened during mid 70’s summer road trips. It seemed like half of my summer vacation was spent sitting outside some auto repair shop while belts, hoses, wheel bearings, tires, etc were replaced. To add to the fun, dad would never pull into a bright, clean franchise type repair place. Oh no, he was dead set against any of his money going to “Madison Ave crooks”. Instead he would select an independent shop, the more sleazy and run down looking, the better. Invariably, the owners/workers of these shops looked like extras from the movie Deliverance. Still not enough? Dad would always, and I mean always, end up in an argument with these people — accusing them of over charging him. Imagine Cletus and a dude with a Dracula accent screaming at each other, and you get the picture. It got to the point that I literally begged my parents not to go on any more of these “fun” trips. It’s a wonder I can function at all today.

  • avatar

    My dad bought a brand new 62 fairlane wagon, white with the 221 engine and 3 on the tree right after I was born.
    Within a couple of years as me and my 3 older sisters were growing he switched to fullsized wagons.
    One of my biggest memories of family vacations is when we would start getting tired of riding and a couple of us would start fighting. My dad would turn around and start yelling at us while driving down the highway, looking back at us and yelling seemingly forever while keeping the car on course. It’s funny how dads could seem to do that back then.
    Who doesn’t remember the famous “if I have to pull over and stop this car….”

    • 0 avatar

      My uncle had the identical car. Still had it into the late 70s and hauled 6 kids around in it.White, V8 221 and 3 speed manual.

      He traded an ultra luxe Edsel Bermuda wagon with the wood grain paneling for it, IIRC.

      Does a 1600 mile round trip at a long legged 14 in the back seat of a 71 Gremlin count as child abuse? With a 10 year old brother alongside? At least the seat folded down…..

      Nr.N: I admire your Father’s consideration for keeping even the most modest of things protected from dirt and wear and tear. And his taste in cars.

      Hope you’re all having a great reunion.

  • avatar

    I would have been very disappointed had my parents bought any ’62 Fairlane. That is one plain Jane of a car, in an era of deco beauties. I still have bad memories of my high school girlfriend’s parents’ ’63 Fairlane coupe, with the six (I think, because the damn thing had no power, but it also felt like it was way out of tune) and the slushbox. I taught her to drive on that thing.

  • avatar

    I would not know how people perceived these cars, just being a tot when they came out. It looks like the styling would have quickly become outdated. They do look pretty plain, sort of like the ramblers, only not as funky looking.

  • avatar

    My grandparents’ car. Fairlane 500, light blue, with aftermarket underdash A/C and no other options other than wheel trim rings. The 221 small block V8 (the very first version of the Windsor, all of 120hp) and Fordomatic could hardly be considered power options. They bought it as a same-year used car and used it only for trips. My grandfather died in 1971 and my grandmother, who never renewed her driver’s license after 1927, passed in 1999. When I inherited it with 55,000 miles, it still had bias-ply tires.

    Driving this car with no power steering or power brakes and all the superior handling characteristics of bias-ply tires makes for a great reminder in how much better cars got between the 60s and the 70s. I just had no use for it, and no place to store it, so I sold it to a collector who was thrilled with it. It’s a summer weekend cruiser now.

  • avatar

    That’s a good way to sum it up, the styling is definitely early 60’s ford.

  • avatar

    I’m glad my parents had more interesting cars, and more space, although I do remember some blazing hot vinyl seats. I’m a little younger and we road tripped less but car #1 was spiritually similar, a 1964 Plymouth Valiant with a pushbutton transmission slant 6 and surprisingly A/C. I think it also had cloth upholstery but we sold it when I was 4 so memories are hazy. It’s replacement was a used 1966 Mercedes 250S which had plenty of room for two kids in the back seat plus power windows to play with when they worked. We took that car to Montreal and Maine from the NY City suburbs in total comfort. The used BMW 2000 we got as a second car was the one with Black vinyl seats and no A/C but massive cool factor, especially when we went to Lime Rock for the IMSA races, where my sister once got epic poison ivy.
    My parents had a 57 Ford before I was born but neither of them had Fords, or many other American cars after that. I do have enduring memories of cramming 9 people (4 adults, 5 kids) in a friend’s late 60s Country Squire with the inward facing rear seats, as well as it’s Gran Torino successor.

  • avatar

    I suspect that the Fairlane was an evolution of the Mercury Comet, which in turn began as an Edsel. In mid-1957, Mercury-Edsel-Lincoln management started lobbying for a bigger version of the Falcon, which hadn’t yet been released. The result was the Mercury Comet, which was very successful when it came out in 1960. Based on the timing, I suspect the Fairlane was already in the works by then, but the Comet — which split the difference between the Falcon and Fairlane — was probably a conceptual progenitor.

    A little more history of the midsize Fairlane:

  • avatar

    This story ( and subsequent replies ) reminds me of the trips we’d take in my dad’s 68 VW bug. Mom and dad sat up front, my two brothers ( age 7 and 6 ) in the back seat, and me ( 4 ) laying on the parcel shelf ( which had a slight recess ) behind the back seat staring up through the back window.

    Good times. Oh……..the parcel shelf had no seatbelt…….would someone PLEASE think about the children!

  • avatar

    A beautiful car, I would love to have one. I missed that particular model by a decade or two, but I remember family road trips from home (in New Hampshire at the time) down to Alabama and up through Southern Illinois to visit the grandparents and extended family.

    I get a kick out of how parents seem to feel the need for rear-seat DVD systems in kiddy-hauler these days, my two sisters and I made our entertainment on those long summer trips by kicking each other out of my parents’ field of view, dodging cigarette ashes coming back through the front windows, and trying to comprehend how much kudzu there was in the south.

  • avatar
    Robert Schwartz

    Congratulations to the Niedermeyers, especially the patriarch of the clan.

    Sto Lat!

  • avatar

    My uncle/aunt and grandparents shared a home and a ’63 blue Fairlane with the 221 — a nice, smooth running V8, though a bit weak. I preferred the cleaner styling of the ’63 over the ’62 – the front fascia was less “busy”.

    One summer day, with my cousin playing lookout, I hotwired the unlocked Fairlane, and we took turns driving it up and down the street a few times, then parked it as found. We didn’t get caught, and the neighbors that witnessed the act never ratted on us. (whew!)

    Good times, then.

  • avatar

    Ah the sweet rose colored memories. My Dad bought me a ’63 tan Fairlane 500 for my graduation present. 260 V-8, 3 on the tree, 97K and a brand new clutch for $125. Clothe seats, seatbelts…..that never got used and an am radio. It was a sweet ride for the times. I put a new set of wide oval retreads on it and drove the crap out of it for 2 years. I ended up putting a hole in one of the pistons and upgraded to a ’66 Chevy Bel-Air 4 door with a 283-4 barrel, duals. In the mean time, Dad ordered a new, sight -unseen, 1970 Chevrolet Impala with the Tonawando 400, auto and a/c. This WAS a sweet ride, as the recent CC went into. Maybe the best Chevy we ever owned.

  • avatar

    Duct tape.

    Is there nothing it can not do?

  • avatar

    My dear father always had a severe issue with drafts, especially around his neck. And he’s always cold; rarely will you see him without a cardigan (or two), even in the summer. So only the front windows were allowed to be opened a tiny crack, even on the hottest summer days. Air conditioning? What’s that?

    Having attended university in Germany, I discovered that my German relatives’ behavior were classic German. What you are describing is classic Germanic behavior, The Draft.

    Germans seem to have a morbid fear of drafts. It doesn’t matter how poor the air quality, how thick the cigarette smoke, how odoriferous the occupants, or how high the temperature, Germans hate open windows. They swath themselves in sweaters year long. Temperatures have to get over 80 degrees before they take them off.

    This drove Auslanders like me crazy. I’d get on trains still reeking of stink and heat, while the temperature outside would be a cool 50 degrees. If I got on board quickly enough, I would deliberately drop all the train windows down to the fully wide position to air it out. If I was traveling with other Americans, we all raced to each window to do this. It would allow the temperature to drop, get the stink out, and bring in fresh air. We all knew that when the natives boarded, the first thing they would do is cringe and cry out that the windows were open to allow drafts. But, if we were lucky, some of the open windows would not be discovered and we would luxuriate in the chance to breath without gagging.

    We also did this in lecture halls, and in every university classroom whenever possible. It was a necessary routine for us Amis, because the windows wouldn’t stay open – usually the first Deutscher would slam them all closed over our protests, while all the while informing us about the dreaded drafts!

    Also, are your dad’s sweaters washed? If so, you are lucky. My German friends don’t wash their sweaters because they like the way they smell, stretch out and get all soft from body oils. Whew Baby! I love these guys but I have to hold my breath sometimes.

    My German professors, regardless of age or gender, all wore sweaters non-stop. One of the really cute professors smelled so badly, my Auslander friends used to refer to her as Ms. Onion.

  • avatar

    My childhood vacations in the back seat of a Hudson were comparatively comfortable. No air conditioning, of course, but no plastic seat covers either!

    Maybe denial of comfort is a Teutonic thing. My immigrant German great-great-grandfather imposed a “butter OR jam” rule. Children could spread only one on their bread. There was no shortage of any food–they lived on a big, prosperous farm–but had to forgo such a little pleasure. When the children started school, he forbade all speaking of German, even by his wife. Harsh discipline was the rule. My mother recalled her father never spanked his children, explaining he’d been beaten enough for everyone. On the other hand, there are the English who ship young children off to “public” [private] boarding schools like a Marine Corps barracks. To each their own.

  • avatar

    Might want to reconsider rescuing this car. Across from my old apartment building was a somewhat rundown house owned by a 90 year old man. In front was a 63 Plymouth Savoy 4 door with a 225 /6 and the pushbutton auto. Totally bare bones. I begged him to let me buy it. (He had stopped driving after breaking a leg the year before.) They didn’t rust proof cars back them, but this thing was a miracle. Solid as a rock. Anyway, I left friendly notes now and again as a reminder. Then, the car was gone and the house was being renovated. He had passed away and his kids had sold the house and the car with it. The new owners had it towed away. I am still angry, and that was 12 years ago.

    As far as your father’s frugality, I guess it was a generational thing. My dad is 86 now, and my formative years were spent in a 69 2-door Biscayne with a 250 inline-6 and a three speed. Not a single option. There were only two kids, but with two doors, black vinyl interior, and no a/c, trips to South Carolina were quite an adventure.

  • avatar

    Great story. I want to make some memories of my own with my growing family. Is there a way to contact the sisters mentioned in your story? Any assistance is greatly appreciated.

  • avatar

    My first car at 17 was an eight year old 1963 2 door coupe. It had the 200c.i. six w/ a 2-speed auto. I painted the car, slapped on a cherry bomb muffler, air shocks, wide tires & chrome reverse rims. Loved that thing, and that started a lifetime love affair with cars, for better or worse, ha!

  • avatar
    Null Void

    I have read that McNamara was planning on discontinuing the big Ford after 1961. I guess the plan was for the 1962 Fairlane to be the flagship model. I wonder if it had happened that way, if the top of the line Fairlane would have been called “Galaxie 500” since the big cars were gone.

    I also read that McNamara wanted to cancel V8 engines. Which would have been foolish, to say the least, because Ford made its reputation on the V8. Good thing Kennedy came along and saved Ford from this dipshit and his boneheaded decisions. Ford would no longer be with us if the big Galaxie had gone away after 1961.

    Ford might be toast now because of its recent idiotic decision to quit making cars other than the Mustang. As soon as gas prices skyrocket, those crossovers and trucks will sit on dealer lots until they rust away.

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