It's called "creative destruction" for a reason. Capitalism's mechanism for sorting out the winners from the losers has always had a rough-edged demeanor and unintended consequences. With so much talk today about which car manufacturers will, or won't, survive the current economic crisis, it brings back memories of an earlier marque that played the wrong hand.
Packard's greatness was withering by the mid-50s. A post-war reshuffling of the automotive landscape left Packard, short of sales and cash, with a shotgun wedding to Studebaker. The prospects looked grim. And yet Jim Nance, Packard's president, was still pitching a brilliant future for the manufacturer to any banker that would listen. Nance's bet was a redesigned line in 1957 that would surpass Cadillac and Lincoln. But beautifully illustrated models in a paper portfolio wouldn't cut it. Nance needed a working demo to woo the investment firms. Hence, Black Bess.
Packard had few resources in those waning days other than the styling studio. There, a cadre of loyal designers - Dick Teague, among them - continued to work on what they hoped would be the new 57s. Based on the Predictor show car, Black Bess was the working mule for a reinvigorated luxury car that would save the company.
Time was not on their side. As finances dried up in the summer of 56, Packard employees were shifted to Studebaker's South Bend, Indiana, factory. It would be the end of the line for the Packard marque at East Grand.
But what of Black Bess? This icon of hope with it's strong vertical grill flanked by slim horizontal metalwork stood for nothing now but failure. It would have to go. Packard engineer Herb Misch, who had supervised the single running prototype, asked Teague to destroy it. None of the designers had the heart to do that, so it came to Red Lux, an old welder in the studio, to do the deed. By 4 pm that day, Black Bess was no more, as was Packard's future.
Black Bess. The beauty and sadness of creative destruction.
