By the end of World War Two, Buick, second from the top the General Motors model hierarchy, was firmly established as a "semi-prestige" make. If it didn't quite have the snob appeal of Cadillac or Packard, it was still highly respectable, the kind of car a doctor, lawyer, or bank vice president might own. It was, in short, an aspirational car for middle-class buyers, an enviable position that earned it a consistent fourth-place ranking in U.S. auto sales, exceeded only by the Low-Priced Three: Chevrolet, Ford, and Plymouth.

Buick's strength in the fifties was based mostly on its entry-level model, the Special, which was priced only about $200 more than a Chevy Bel Air. This was down-market for Buick, in the price range occupied by Oldsmobile and the higher-end Pontiac models, but it was very successful, albeit largely at the expense of Buick's corporate siblings. For GM's mid-price divisions to eat each other's lunch like this flew in the face of the doctrine laid out by Alfred P. Sloan in the twenties, but the strategy worked well for Buick. Sales rose to more than 737,000 for the 1955 model year, more than 40% of which were Specials. That was an almost 50% increase over Buick's normal volume, taking it to third place in the industry and beating Oldsmobile and Pontiac by more than 150,000 units.


A 1955 Buick Special four-door sedan. Price at $2,291 (not including Dynaflow, which almost all buyers ordered), it was only $23 more than a Pontiac Chieftain sedan and $71 cheaper than an Oldsmobile Eighty-Eight, but it carried the prestige of the Buick name. (Photo © 2009 Pujanak; released to the public domain by the photographer)

Alas, Buick soon fell victim to its own success. By 1956, its wild sales growth and the attendant rapid increase in production had wreaked havoc on Buick's traditional quality control, exacerbated the following year by a disastrous new transmission, the Flight Pitch (Triple Turbine) Dynaflow. As word spread about how problematic new Buicks were becoming, buyers began to shy away, just as a national recession nearly crippled the mid-price market. Buick sales for the 1958 model year plummeted to barely a third of their '55 peak, leading to an extensive housecleaning of the division's leadership.

The recession, as we have seen, produced a sudden spike in the popularity of compact economy cars like AMC's newly revived small Rambler and the imported Volkswagen Beetle. Chevrolet was developing the compact, rear-engine Corvair for 1960, but that did nothing to help Pontiac, Oldsmobile, and Buick, which had been hit much harder. Starting in 1958, GM imported a limited number of European Opels and Vauxhalls for Buick and Pontiac dealers, but it was strictly a temporary measure while the corporation prepared a more considered solution.


Buick dropped the Special name in 1959, responding to the dreadful sales performance of 1957 and 1958. It returned in 1961 on an entirely new car.

In a move reminiscent of Alfred P. Sloan's ill-fated Companion Make program of the late twenties, GM management decided that Pontiac, Oldsmobile, and Buick should have their own compact sedans, code-named Y-body. Based on the body shell of the Corvair, each would be dramatically smaller than the divisions' full-size cars, but bigger and plusher than the Corvair. When they appeared for the 1961 model year, they were swiftly nicknamed "Senior Compacts."

Buick's senior compact, which went on sale on October 5, 1960, was dubbed the Special. Although Buick general manager Ed Rollert had discontinued the old Special line in 1958, it had been a sales success, and Buick management may have thought that slapping a familiar name on the new car would help put buyers at ease.

Some reassurance was necessary, because the revived Special was a major departure for Buick. Except for limited number of Opel Olympia Rekords Buick had imported from 1958 to 1960, the new Special was the smallest car the division had offered in more than two decades.


The '63 Special was 192.1 inches (4,879 mm) long on a 112-inch (2,845-mm) wheelbase. It was considered a compact at the time, although it's roughly the size of a modern Toyota Camry or Ford Mondeo. This is a Skylark Sport Coupe, which had a base price of $2,857. 32,109 of these cars were produced for 1963, making it the second most popular Special model; the best seller was the four-door Special Deluxe sedan.

Like the Corvair, the Y-body Special had a unit body, rather than the larger Buicks' body-on-frame construction. It was about 4 inches (101 mm) longer than the Corvair in wheelbase, about 8 inches (203 mm) longer overall. Despite being more than two feet (63 cm) shorter and about 1,500 lb (680 kg) lighter than a Buick LeSabre, it gave up surprisingly little interior room. Unlike the Corvair, the Special had an entirely conventional front-engine/rear-drive layout and suspension, meaning that it drove like any other American car, with a soft ride, light steering, and predictable understeer. The Special even had a V8, a brand-new 215 cu. in. (3.5 L) all-aluminum engine.

The use of aluminum for automotive engine blocks and cylinder heads was not new (and aircraft engines, for which weight was a crucial factor, used aluminum extensively). Marmon had offered an all-aluminum V-16 back in 1932, and aluminum cylinder heads were fairly common in European engines by the mid-fifties. Detroit toyed with aluminum engines experimentally for many years, but the cost and production problems proved daunting. Until the early sixties, most American automotive engines remained cast iron.

Aluminum's principal advantage as an engine material is weight. Aluminum weighs about one third as much as iron, and while an aluminum part must be beefier than its iron counterpart to provide equivalent strength, it still offers a significant weight savings. Aluminum is also a better heat conductor than iron, so using it for the cylinder block of a water-cooled engine allows the use of a less-bulky water jacket, saving additional weight.

Unfortunately, aluminum also has several important disadvantages. First, it costs significantly more than iron, and it is more difficult to cast. Second, it's softer than iron, which means that an engine with bare aluminum cylinder bores will wear very quickly. Most aluminum-block engines have iron cylinder liners, which are much more durable, but add weight and drive assembly costs even higher. (Some modern engines use silicon coatings or thermal spray hardening to achieve the same effect, but that technology did not yet exist in the late fifties.) Valve seats and other high-wear areas must be similarly reinforced.


The styling of the Special is very similar to that of its contemporary full-size brethren. The photo car is a '63, which got a new front end that increased overall length from 188.4 inches (4,785 mm) to 192.1 inches (4,879 mm), eliminating the '62 model's distinctive protruding fender tips. It's probably the best-looking of the Y-body cars, although the extra sheet metal made it somewhat heavier than the '61.

In 1957, GM began work on "Project X-100," a program to give each of the corporation's mid-priced divisions -- Buick, Oldsmobile, and Pontiac -- its own compact car. To power the X-100, GM's corporate Engineering Staff, then headed by former Buick chief engineer Charles Chayne, decided to develop a compact, lightweight aluminum V8 engine.

The aluminum engine's basic concepts were developed by the corporate Power Development unit, then led by engineer Darl F. Caris, which had been working on aluminum engines for several years. However, the corporation was very interested in making the X-100 a collaborative program, with the major development work distributed amongst all of the divisions involved. Buick chief engineer Oliver Kelley (previously the head of the Engineering Staff's Transmission Development Group, which developed Hydra-Matic and Dynaflow) successfully lobbied for the opportunity to build the engines, which were originally supposed to be shared by all three X-100 cars. Buick had as much experience with aluminum engines as any GM division at that time. It had manufactured aluminum cylinder heads for aircraft engines during World War 2, and in the early fifties, an experimental high-performance aluminum V8 had appeared in the LeSabre and XP-300 show cars. In early 1958, production development of the aluminum engine was turned over to Buick engine designers Joe Turlay and Cliff Studaker.

Like most American V8s of its time, the new engine was a 90-degree V8 with pushrod-operated overhead valves. It eschewed the pentroof layout of Buick's contemporary "Nailhead" V8 in favor of a more conventional wedge-shaped combustion chamber (which Buick described as a "slanted saucer"). Both the heads and cylinder block were aluminum, with cast-iron cylinder liners. Unlike the aluminum blocks subsequently offered by Chrysler and AMC, the V8's cylinder block was cast using semi-permanent steel molds, rather than die casting, and had unusual cast-in liners, held in place by grooves in the cylinder walls.

The small V8 was one of the lightest engines in the world, weighing only 318 lb (144 kg) dry, a creditable figure even today. It was 215 lb (98 kg) lighter than a small-block Chevy V8 and barely half the weight of Buick's larger Nailhead. Early prototypes were about 183 cu. in. (3.0 L), but testing, conducted using Opel Olympia Rekords as 'mules,' suggested the need for greater displacement, so it was bored out to 3.5 inches (88.9 mm), with a 2.8-inch (71.1 mm) stroke, giving a displacement of 215 cu. in. (3,528 cc).

The plan for all three divisions to share the aluminum 215 quickly fell apart. Pontiac decided it was too expensive, opting instead to develop a 196 cu. in. (3.2 L) four derived from its existing 389 cu. in. (6.4 L) V8. (They did grudgingly buy a very small number of Buick's aluminum V8 -- no more than 5,000 -- which were optional in 1961-1962 Pontiac Tempests.) Oldsmobile agreed to use the 215, but its engineers insisted on making various detail changes, including slightly larger intake valves, larger combustion chambers with flat-topped pistons, and six head bolts per cylinder, instead of five. On paper, the changes hardly seem worthwhile, but project engineer Tom Leonard claimed the Olds version, dubbed "Rockette," made about 3 additional horsepower (2.2 kW) and was somewhat more durable; it weighed 32 lb (15 kg) more than the Buick version.

The Buick 215 was well suited to the Special. In its initial production form, it was rated at 150 gross horsepower (112 kW) and 210 lb-ft (284 N-m) of torque with a single two-barrel carburetor. With 8.8:1 compression and a very mild state of tune, the 215 could run on regular gasoline, and it provided decent fuel economy. Its modest weight provided good weight distribution, and the Special was light enough for sprightly performance. With the standard three-speed manual transmission, a Special could go from 0 to 60 mph (97 kph) in around 11 seconds, with a top speed of a bit over 100 mph (162 kph). The optional two-speed Dual-Path Turbine Drive automatic stretched 0-60 mph times by about 2.5 seconds, which was still better than most six-cylinder domestic cars, and not far behind the bigger V8s in many heavier cars. Fuel consumption was 15-16 mpg (14.7 to 15.7 L/100 km) in city driving, close to 20 mpg (11.8 L/100 km) on the road. That was not as good as the Corvair, but it was about 20% better than a full-size Buick.

The new Special occupied a market position very similar to that of its full-size namesake. With a starting price of $2,330, it was about 15% more than the Corvair, and actually a little cheaper than a Chevy Bel Air; it undercut the cheapest 'big' Buick, the LeSabre, by about 25%. With decent performance, good fuel economy, and the power of the Buick name, it should have been a hit, but first-year production was an underwhelming 86,868, less than a quarter of the old Special's peak sales.

Why didn't it sell better? For one, the 1961 model year was a bad one for Detroit in general. Moreover, buyers' fascination with economy cars was waning rapidly. Had the compact Special appeared during the recession (which would have been impossible, product development cycles being what they are), it probably would have been far more successful, but by the time it appeared, buyers were again looking more for power and luxury. Despite its admirable space efficiency, Buick buyers were suspicious of the Special's small exterior dimensions. The earlier Special was anything but a small car -- it had the same body, dimensions, and imposing mass as other Buicks, and part of its appeal was that it looked much like any other Buick. Although the compact's designers had done a fine job of integrating contemporary Buick design cues on a smaller scale (much more successfully than Ford's compact Falcon, which ended up looking rather stubby), the Special seemed like not enough car for many traditional Buick buyers.


Despite its tidy dimensions and sporty pretensions, the Skylark's suspension was tuned for a typical Buick ride: soft and floaty on smooth pavement, unsettled and seasick on rough roads, with lots of lean and understeer in fast turns. Stopping power wasn't bad, although the drum brakes fade significantly in repeated use.

Confusing matters further was the fact that the Special was price almost identically to its senior compact sibling, the Oldsmobile F-85. The F-85 was dimensionally identical, used a very similar engine, and offered the same combination of power, fuel economy, and interior space. There were some mechanical distinctions -- for example, the Oldsmobile used a completely different automatic transmission -- but the only meaningful differences from the average buyer's perspective were styling and the comparative value of the Oldsmobile and Buick names. (The Pontiac Tempest, which shared the same body, but had a significantly different mechanical layout and a lower price, outsold both.)

Worse, the early aluminum engines proved troublesome. Although the 215's design was fundamentally sound, its construction tested the limits of GM's metallurgical capabilities. Unexpected problems arose with excessive cylinder block porosity, forcing the scrapping of many nearly completed engines. Because the problem could be difficult to detect, some of the faulty engines ended up installed in cars, where they quickly developed severe oil leaks. There were also issues with the cooling system, which demanded a different antifreeze formula than iron engines. If owners (or dealers) used the wrong coolant, it would lead to electrolysis, stripping metal off the engine's cooling passages and clogging the radiator, causing overheating and warped head gaskets. Use of improper tools to change the spark plugs could also strip the aluminum plug threads, with expensive consequences. None of these problems were the fault of the engine, but they did not enhance its reputation.

Buick tried to bolster the Special's market position in two ways. First was the late-'61 introduction of a plusher, more upscale version, called Skylark, after the limited-edition Skylark convertible of 1953-54. Like the Corvair Monza, the Skylark was offered only as a coupe or convertible, featuring nicer trim, bucket seats, and a more powerful engine; a higher compression ratio and a four-barrel carburetor boosted the little V8 to 185 gross horsepower (138 kW). The Skylark was followed in 1962 by a cheaper base model, equipped with the first six-cylinder engine Buick had offered since 1930 -- the only V6 in an American passenger car of its era.


The Skylark was a good deal more expensive than a basic Special, to the tune of nearly $500. This one has the optional padded vinyl roof -- still something of a novelty in '63 -- and the two-speed Dual Path Turbine Drive automatic. The Turbine Drive blunted the performance of the little V8 somewhat, but it was very smooth. 0-60 mph (0-97 kph) takes a bit under 12 seconds, with a top speed of perhaps 105 mph (170 kph).

The new six, known as the Fireball V-6, was suggested by Joe Turlay, who had designed the 215. When Buick learned of Pontiac's new slant-four, Turlay boasted to Buick general manager Ed Rollert that he could develop a six-cylinder version of the small V8 that would be superior to the Pontiac engine in every respect. Its development was very rapid; it went from concept to production in only a year.

The V6 was essentially a bored-and-stroked version of the 215 V8, shorn of two cylinders and cast in iron, instead of aluminum. Although this reduced its displacement to 198 cu. in. (3.3 L), its iron block and heads made it 46 lb (21 kg) heavier than the V8. It was rated at 135 gross horsepower (101 kW), 20 hp (15 kW) less than the V8, but it returned slightly better gas mileage. More significantly, from Buick's point of view, was the fact that it was significantly cheaper to produce, since it shared much of the V8's tooling.

The V6's kinship with the 215 V8 left it with certain basic design problems. V6 engines have an unbalanced coupling force that causes them to shake. The Fireball's 90-degree bank angle, shared with the V8, increased the magnitude of that shaking by about 40%, although it was a simpler horizontal shake, rather than the complex rotating couple of a 60-degree engine. Furthermore, the V6's three-throw crankshaft (essentially a shortened version of the V8's four-throw crank) gave it an uneven firing order, 90-150-90-150-90, rather than every 120 degrees, like a 60-degree V6. Adding a balance shaft would have quelled much of the shake, but it would have cost enough to defeat the purpose of the exercise. Instead, Buick added a heavy flywheel, very soft engine mounts, and lots of sound deadening to keep the shake from being transmitted to the passengers. It worked reasonably well, although the V6 still had a strange, loping sound at idle, caused by the odd firing order.


The Fireball V6 was not the only V6 in America; GMC trucks used a bigger 60° V6 engine. Buick's engine, however, shared the 90° bank angle of the 215 (3.5 L) V8. That made it cheaper to build, but resulted in uneven firing intervals and substantial vibration at idle, an issue not fully rectified until much later in this engine's long life. In its initial form, the V6 was 198 cu. in. (3.3 L), making 135 gross horsepower (101 kW) and 205 lb-ft (277 N·m) of torque with a single two-barrel carburetor.

Despite the lower production costs of the iron V6, the 1962 Special was only $26 cheaper than its V8 predecessor, not a huge difference, even then. Nonetheless, the new engine and the arrival of the Skylark nearly doubled Special sales for the 1962 model year, to a respectable 153,843; about a third of those had the V6. For 1963, the Special got an extensive facelift that added about 4 inches (101 mm) to its overall length. The Skylark was now up to an even 200 gross horsepower (149 kW), which gave it brisk performance, especially with the optional four-speed manual transmission. Sales dipped a bit, to 148,770.

Sales of the Special were not bad, all things considered, but Buick dealers complained that it was just too small for their customers -- as were Oldsmobile dealers, whose similar F-85 was selling even worse. Division managers, who had never been terribly enthusiastic about the smaller cars, protested that Buick and Olds didn't belong in the compact market. GM's upper management decided it had had enough, and for 1964, Buick, Olds, and Pontiac abandoned their unit-bodied senior compacts for a new A-body intermediate with a conventional perimeter frame. They weren't significantly roomier, and fuel economy inevitably suffered, but they sold better and cost less to build.

By 1963, GM had lost confidence in the aluminum V8. Its maintenance issues had given it a bad reputation, and it was too expensive. Furthermore, recent improvements in "thinwall" casting techniques for iron engines meant that aluminum no longer enjoyed as decisive a weight advantage as it had when the 215 was designed. Ford's new cast-iron 221 cu. in. (3.6 liter) V8, for example, weighed only 450 lb (204 kg), just 100 lb (45 kg) more than the far more expensive Buick and Olds 215s.

For 1964, Buick discontinued the aluminum 215 and adopted a bigger 300 cu. in. (4.9 liter) V8. Its architecture was basically the same as that of the 215, but it was bored and stroked, and cast in iron, rather than aluminum; in essence, it was a V8 version of the Fireball V6. In its first year, the 300 retained the 215's aluminum cylinder heads and manifold 215, but for 1965, those, too, reverted to cast iron. The all-iron 300 weighed about 150 lb (68 kg) more than its all-aluminum predecessor, but it was still one of the lightest V8s in the industry. Buick would use this all-iron engine (with several subsequent revisions and displacement increases) through the 1981 model year.

The Fireball V6, meanwhile, was bored and stroked to match the dimensions of the 300, bringing it to 225 cubic inches (3.7 liters) and 155 gross horsepower (116 kW). Buick and Oldsmobile used the V6 through the 1967 model year, after which it was dropped in favor of a bigger inline-six, shared with full-size Chevrolets.


The Rover version of Buick's 3.5-liter V8, from a 1979 Range Rover. (Photo © 2007 Lewis Collard; released to the public domain by the photographer)

Ordinarily, that would've been all she wrote for the aluminum V8 and its V6 brother, but each engine had a different -- and separate -- fate in store.

In 1963, the British automaker Rover was looking for a new engine to power its top-of-the-line cars. Their existing P5 saloon had an elderly 3.0 L (180 cu. in.) straight six that was too heavy and too thirsty for its modest output. During a trip to the U.S., Rover managing director William Martin-Hurst encountered a marine conversion of the Buick 215, and decided that it was precisely what Rover needed. The aluminum V8 was smoother and significantly more powerful than Rover's ancient six, and hardly any heavier. Martin-Hurst knew that GM was discontinuing the aluminum engine, so he approached Buick general manager Ed Rollert and offered to purchase the manufacturing rights.

The deal was concluded in the fall of 1964, giving Rover the rights to the design, all of Buick's records and technical drawings, and a number of unused production engines. Rover hired Buick chief engine designer Joe Turley, who was about to retire, and moved him to England to oversee the establishment of the new production line. For Rover use, the 215 was set up for sand casting, rather than die casting. It also received a variety of minor modifications, including pressed-in (rather than cast-in) cylinder liners, a different crankshaft, and British-made carburetors and accessories. It ended up around 55 pounds (25 kg) than its Buick predecessor, although it was still quite light for its size and displacement.


This is a Rover 3500, a version of Rover's P6 sedan powered by the reborn aluminum V8. Despite its luxurious trimmings, it had very sharp performance for its day, making it something of an "executive express" in the mode of a modern BMW 5-Series. (Photo © 2008 Charles01; used under a Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 2.5 license)

The reborn engine went on sale the Rover P5 in September 1967, the Rover P6 in 1968, and in 1970, the new Range Rover. The engine survived Rover's 1967 consolidation with British Leyland, and subsequently found its way into everything from military Land Rovers to the MGB. Eventually expanded from 3.5 L (218 cu. in.) to 4.0 L (244 cu. in.), 4.6 L (281 cu. in.), and 5.0 L (305 cu. in.), it remained in production until the demise of the first-generation Land Rover Defender in 2004. Even that was not the end -- in 2006, the British aftermarket firm MCT purchased the rights to build the Rover 3.5 in crate form, for use as a replacement engine in older cars, or for race cars, kit cars, or small-volume specialty makes. It is likely to remain in at least limited production well past its 60th birthday.

The Fireball V6, meanwhile, was beginning a strange odyssey of its own. In the early sixties, Jeep was still using an antiquarian F-head four-cylinder engine, which was barely adequate for the heavy CJ5s. A dealer in Salt Lake City, Utah with both Buick and Jeep franchises started offering a V6 conversion for Jeeps, replacing the overtaxed four-cylinder engine with a new Buick V6. Word of these conversions eventually filtered back to the engineers at Kaiser Jeep, who were very impressed with the results. Not only did the V6 offer much improved performance, it scored extremely well in a set of grueling durability tests.

Kaiser Jeep purchased the manufacturing rights to the Fireball V6 in 1965. The Jeep version of the engine, known as the Dauntless 225, was essentially similar to the Buick version, although it had a heavier flywheel to dampen more of its second-order vibration. Jeep used the Dauntless V6 until 1970, when Kaiser sold Jeep to American Motors. AMC quickly replaced it with American's own straight-six, and production ceased. The tooling for the Dauntless engine, coated in Cosmoline, was stored in the Jeep plant in Toledo, Ohio.


A late-sixties Jeep CJ-5 powered by the Buick-designed "Dauntless 225" V6. (Photo © 2008 Christopher Ziemnowicz; released to the public domain by the photographer)

Surprisingly, that was not the end of the road for the V6, either. The first OPEC oil embargo, which began during the Yom Kippur War in October 1973, had a devastating effect on auto sales around the world; Buick's sales for 1974 model year fell 50%, as buyers again turned to smaller, more fuel-efficient vehicles. That was bad news for Buick, whose smallest 1974 model was the Apollo, a clone of the Chevrolet Nova, powered by Chevy's big 250 cu. in. (4.1 L) straight six. Buick chief engineer Phillip Bowser quickly realized that Buick needed a smaller, more-frugal engine.

While on vacation in early December 1973, Bowser began thinking about the old Fireball V6. He placed a long-distance call to Cliff Studaker, now Buick's assistant chief engineer, and asked him to investigate what had happened to the V6's tooling. Studaker made some calls, and discovered that while AMC no longer used the V6, the tooling had been stored intact. Bowser and Studaker agreed that the V6 would be well suited to their needs, and they scoured local junkyards for an intact engine to test.

The idea of reviving the V6 soon attracted the attention of GM president Ed Cole. Cole was interested in the V6 for the new H-body car (Chevrolet Monza/Buick Skyhawk/Oldsmobile Starfire), as an stopgap in case the H-body's planned Wankel rotary engine was delayed. He and Studaker drove the engineering test mule, powered by a refurbished junkyard engine, to Toledo to open discussions with AMC.

Cole asked AMC management to restart production of the V6 so that GM could buy completed engines, but the two companies were unable to agree on a unit price. In April, GM simply bought back the tooling, which was hastily reinstalled in the same space it had originally occupied in Buick's Flint engine plant. Production began only four months later, and engines were ready for public sale by the start of the 1975 model year. (In a 1975 interview for Motor Trend, automotive writer Karl Ludvigsen asked AMC vice president Gerry Meyers why American didn't revive the 90-degree V6 for its own use. Meyers replied that AMC engineers considered it too rough, and said that making it acceptable for passenger cars was beyond American's resources.)

Initially, Buick's once-and-future V6 was little changed from its original configuration, except for a slight increase in bore to match the dimensions of Buick's small-block V8 -- itself still a cast-iron descendant of the original aluminum 215. The change brought the V6's displacement to 231 cu. in. (3.8 L), offering a meager 110 net horsepower (82 kW).

Buick engineers immediately set about addressing some of the V6's inherent limitations, something that had never been a priority in the previous decade. In late 1977, Cliff Studaker developed a novel split-pin crankshaft that provided even firing intervals, along with a new flywheel design to reduce vibration. Buick also developed a turbocharged version, which went on sale in the Regal and LeSabre in 1978; it went on to a storied career in the fearsome Grand National and GNX coupes. A de-bored, 196 cu. in. (3.2 L) version appeared in 1978, followed in 1980 by a 252 cu. in. (4.1 L) version, and in 1982 by a short-stroke 181 cu. in. (3.0 L).


In the mid-eighties, Buick's ferocious Grand National had a turbocharged version of the 3800 V6, with a claimed 235 to 240 hp (175 to 183 kW). The final limited-production GNX version was rated at 275 hp (205 kW) and 360 lb-ft (486 N·m) of torque. Based on the GNX's performance, both figures were significantly underrated, which may have been to protect the nominal performance supremacy of the Chevrolet Corvette.

Over the next two decades, Buick made changes to the V6 nearly every year, reducing internal friction, cutting weight, adding features like fuel injection, and whittling away at its intrinsic vibration problems. In the eighties, it became one of GM's corporate engines, shared by every division-- including, briefly, Cadillac. It was renamed 3800 following an extensive 1988 makeover, which finally added a balance shaft. A cheaper, short-stroke 3300 (204 cu. in.) derivative appeared in 1989. The turbocharged version died in 1988, but a new supercharged 3800 bowed for 1991. Further redesigns followed in 1995 and 2004. The final version, known as the 3800 Series III, offered up to 260 net horsepower (194 kW) in supercharged form. Production ended in August 2008.

The venerable V6 survived in various forms for 47 years, often outliving newer engines originally intended to replace it. As of this writing, it appears to have finally reached the end of the line, but it's been pronounced dead at least twice before, so we wouldn't be surprised to see it rise again, perhaps in the service of some smaller, foreign automaker.

This curious story reveals a great deal about GM's inherent conservatism. When the 215 and Fireball V6 were new, they represented a considerable departure from the corporation's normal practice; as a result, GM seemingly couldn't wait to get rid of them. After GM bought back the rights to the V6, it was cheaper and more expedient to continue refining it than to replace it with a clean-sheet engine, so GM clung to it until it was older than many of the people who built it. Admittedly, Rover/British Leyland/Rover Group clung to the ex-Buick V8 just as tenaciously, but that more reflected the perennially cash-poor nature of the British auto industry than any strong philosophical tendencies. GM, by contrast, had the money to refine the 215, or design a superior replacement, but it chose not to. In both cases, the corporation doggedly pursued the path of least resistance, not always to its advantage.

As for the Special and Skylark, we feel obliged to point out that nearly 50 years ago, GM had compact, lightweight, reasonably fuel-efficient unibody sedans -- very similar in size to today's popular Honda Accord, Ford Mondeo, and Toyota Camry -- but it threw them away, just as it threw away their lightweight V6 and V8 engines. GM subsequently spent more than 25 years trying to reinvent that particular wheel, and it's only been in the past few years that the corporation has developed truly competitive cars of this type.

Like the heading says, the thing speaks for itself.

# # #

Information on the Buick V8 and its Oldsmobile sibling came from the following sources: Terry Dunham and Lawrence R. Gustin, Buick: A Complete History (Automobile Quarterly Magnificent Marques Book) (New Albany, IN: Automobile Quarterly Publications, 2005 updated edition); Jim Dunne and Jan P. Norbye, Buick 1946-1978: The Classic Postwar Years, (Osceola, WI: MBI, Inc./Motorbooks International, 1978, 1993, Second Edition); Roger Huntington, "1965 Engines," Motor Trend, December 1964 (Vol. 16, No. 12), pp. 36-47; Rene Winters, "The Rover V8: The American Connection" (December 2005, The Rover V8 World, http://www.rover-v8.nl/v8web/historyindex.html, accessed 23 November 2007); Chris Goffey, "History of the Aluminium Alloy V8: The story of the Buick V8 engine which found its way across the Atlantic to power a generation of Rover and Leland vehicles," Autocar, 20 November 1976; M. Park Hunter, "1962 Oldsmobile Jetfire: Turbo Before Its Time," Special Interest Autos #152, March-April 1996, reprinted in Terry Ehrich, ed., The Hemmings Book of Buicks (Hemmings Motor News Collector-Car Books) (Bennington, VT: Hemmings Motor News, 2001); Helen Jones Earley and James R. Walkinshaw, Setting the Pace: Oldsmobile's First 100 Years (Lansing, MI: Oldsmobile Division of General Motors Corporation, 1996); and "Jetfire History: 215 Engine" (author unknown, 10 April 2000, The Olds FAQ, http://www.442.com/oldsfaq/ofjet.htm, accessed 23 November 2007).

The history of the reborn Buick V6 came from Ken Mosher, "The Life and Times of the Buick V6: The Little Engine That Could!" (date known, GNNTYPE.org, http://www.gnttype.org/general/v6hist.html, accessed 23 November 2007); Arch Brown, "1962 Buick Skylark: School Teacher's Hot Rod," Special Interest Autos #87, May-June 1985, reprinted in Terry Ehrich, ed., The Hemmings Book of Buicks (Hemmings Motor News Collector-Car Books) (Bennington, VT: Hemmings Motor News, 2001); Karl Ludvigsen, "Suddenly It's 1980," Motor Trend, February 1975, pp. 35-39, 97; and Don Sherman, "Back by Popular Demand! Fireball V-6: Super-motor of the Future," Car and Driver, July 1977 (Vol. 23, No. 1), pp. 67-71. Some details also came from the Wikipedia entry for the Buick V6 engine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buick_V6_engine, last accessed 20 October 2010).

We also consulted the following period road tests: "Buick Special: When better (sized) cars are built, Buick will build them," Road & Track, November 1960; "Road Test: The Invicta and the Special," Motor Life, January 1961; John Lawlor, "The Buick Skylark: a new luxury coupe that may be a good preview of styles to come in '62," Motor Trend, June 1961; "Buick Special V-6: A surprising power source in a well-known chassis," Road & Track, November 1961; and "Buick Skylark: 'When better cars are built...' a slogan we once laughed at now means something," Road & Track, March 1962, all of which are reprinted in R.M. Clarke, ed., Buick Performance Portfolio 1947-1962 (Cobham, Surrey: Brooklands Books Ltd., 2000); Bob McVay, "Buick Special," Motor Trend, September 1963; Jim Wright, "Buick Skylark Road Test," Motor Trend, December 1963; and "Buick LeSabre 400: A Budget-Priced, Conservative Luxury Car," Car Life, January 1965, all of which are reprinted in R.M. Clarke, ed., Buick Muscle Cars 1963-1973 (Cobham, Surrey: Brooklands Books Ltd., 2001); "Oldsmobile F-85," Motor Trend, February 1961; "Car Life Road Test: Oldsmobile F-85," Car Life, May 1961; "Oldsmobile F-85," Car and Driver, May 1961; "Road Test: Oldsmobile Jetfire," Car and Driver, June 1962; Bob McVay, "Oldsmobile F-85 Cutlass: Softly sprung F-85 offers luxury and performance sans blower," Motor Trend, July 1963, all of which are reprinted in R.M. Clarke, ed., Oldsmobile Automobiles 1955-63 (Brooklands Road Test Books) (Cobham, Surrey: Brooklands Books Ltd., 1989); and "Car Life Road Test: Oldsmobile F-85 Jetfire," Car Life, April 1963 (Vol. 10, No. 3), pp. 31-35.

This article's title was suggested by a lyric from the 1941 song "Skylark," composed by Hoagie Carmichael and Johnny Mercer. That song was apparently also the inspiration for the name of the original 1953-1954 Skylark convertible, Buick's first use of the name.

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From the "what tangled webs we weave" department comes this odd tale of how Buick's efforts to build an economy car in the early 1960s gave birth to the premier British hot rod engine and a V6 that is still powering new GM cars some 45 years later. In the immortal words of Ricky Ricardo, we've got some 'splaining to do...

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FORTUNES OF WAR

By the end of World War Two, Buick, second from the top the General Motors model hierarchy, was firmly established as a "semi-prestige" make. If it didn't quite have the snob appeal of Cadillac or Packard, it was still highly respectable, the kind of car a doctor, lawyer, or bank vice president might own. It was, in short, an aspirational car for middle-class buyers, an enviable position that earned it a consistent fourth-place ranking in U.S. auto sales, exceeded only by the Low-Priced Three: Chevrolet, Ford, and Plymouth.

In the early fifties, Buick introduced a new, entry-level model, the Special, which was priced only about $200 more than a Chevy Bel Air. This was down-market for Buick, taking it into the price range occupied by Oldsmobile and the higher-end Pontiac models, but it was very successful, albeit largely at the expense of Buick's corporate siblings. For GM's mid-price divisions to eat each other's lunch like this flew in the face of the doctrine laid out by Alfred P. Sloan in the twenties, but the strategy worked well for Buick. Sales rose to more than 737,000 for the 1955 model year, more than 40% of which were Specials. That was an almost 50% increase over Buick's normal volume, taking it to third place in the industry and beating Oldsmobile and Pontiac by more than 150,000 units.

Alas, Buick soon fell victim to its own success. By 1956, its wild sales growth and the attendant rapid increase in production had wreaked havoc on Buick's traditional quality control. As word spread about how problematic new Buicks were becoming, buyers began to shy away. That hesitance was exacerbated by unpopular styling and a disastrous new transmission, the Flight Pitch (Triple Turbine) Dynaflow. The final straw was the recession of 1957 and 1958, which nearly crippled the mid-price market. As a result, Buick sales for the 1958 model year plummeted to barely a third of their '55 peak, leading to an extensive housecleaning of the division's leadership.

The recession, as we have seen, produced a sudden spike in the popularity of compact economy cars like AMC's newly revived small Rambler and the imported Volkswagen Beetle. Chevrolet was developing the compact, rear-engine Corvair for 1960, but that did nothing to help Pontiac, Oldsmobile, and Buick, which had been hit much harder. Starting in 1958, GM imported a limited number of European Opels and Vauxhalls for Buick and Pontiac dealers, but it was strictly a temporary measure while the corporation prepared a more considered solution.

THE SPECIAL OLYMPICS

In a move reminiscent of Alfred P. Sloan's ill-fated Companion Make program of the late twenties, GM management decided that Pontiac, Oldsmobile, and Buick should have their own compact sedans, code-named Y-body. Based on the body shell of the Corvair, each would be dramatically smaller than the divisions' full-size cars, but bigger and plusher than the Corvair. When they appeared for the 1961 model year, they were swiftly nicknamed "Senior Compacts."

Buick's senior compact, which went on sale on October 5, 1960, was dubbed the Special. Although Buick general manager Ed Rollert had discontinued the old Special line in 1958, it had been a sales success, and Buick management may have thought that slapping a familiar name on the new car would help put buyers at ease.

Some reassurance was necessary, because the revived Special was a major departure for Buick. Except for limited number of Opel Olympia Rekords Buick had imported from 1958 to 1960, the new Special was the smallest car the division had offered in more than two decades.


The '63 Special was 192.1 inches (4,879 mm) long on a 112-inch (2,845-mm) wheelbase. It was considered a compact at the time, although it is roughly the size of a modern Toyota Camry or Ford Mondeo. This is a Skylark Sport Coupe, which had a base price of $2,857. 32,109 of these cars were produced for 1963, making it the second most popular Special model; the best seller was the four-door Special Deluxe sedan.

Like the Corvair, the Y-body Special had a unit body, rather than the larger Buicks' body-on-frame construction. It was about 4 inches (101 mm) longer than the Corvair in wheelbase, about 8 inches (203 mm) longer overall. Despite being more than two feet (63 cm) shorter and about 1,500 lb (680 kg) lighter than a Buick LeSabre, it gave up surprisingly little interior room. Unlike the Corvair, the Special had an entirely conventional front-engine/rear-drive layout and suspension, meaning that it drove like any other American car, with a soft ride, light steering, and predictable understeer. The Special even had a V8, a brand-new 215 cu. in. (3.5 L) all-aluminum engine.

ALLOY ADVANTAGES

The use of aluminum for engine blocks and cylinder heads was not new, even in the early sixties. Marmon, for instance, had offered an all-aluminum V16 back in 1932, and aluminum cylinder heads were fairly common in European engines. Detroit toyed with aluminum engines experimentally for many years, but the cost and production problems proved daunting, and throughout the fifties, most American engines remained cast iron.

Aluminum's principal advantage as an engine material is weight. Aluminum weighs about one third as much as iron, and while an aluminum part must be beefier than its iron counterpart to provide equivalent strength, it still offers a significant weight savings. Aluminum is also a better heat conductor than iron, so using it for the cylinder block of a water-cooled engine allows the use of a less-bulky water jacket, saving additional weight.

Unfortunately, aluminum also has several important disadvantages. First, it costs significantly more than iron, and it is more difficult to cast. Second, it is softer than iron, which means that an engine with bare aluminum cylinder bores will wear very quickly. Most aluminum-block engines have iron cylinder liners, which are much more durable, but add weight and drive assembly costs even higher. (Some modern engines use silicon coatings or thermal spray hardening to achieve the same effect, but that technology did not yet exist in the late fifties.) Valve seats and other high-wear areas must be similarly reinforced.


The styling of the Special is very similar to that of its contemporary full-size brethren. The photo car is a '63, which got a new front end that increased overall length from 188.4 inches (4,785 mm) to 192.1 inches (4,879 mm), eliminating the '62 model's distinctive protruding fender tips. It's probably the best-looking of the Y-body cars, although the extra sheet metal made it somewhat heavier than the '61.

THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD

Buick had been experimenting with aluminum engines for a long time, and experimental versions had appeared in the LeSabre and XP-300 show cars in the early fifties. Development of a production engine began in 1957 as "Project X-100," and prototype engines were road tested in Opel Olympia Rekord test mules. The new V8 initially had a displacement of 180 cu. in. (3.0 L), but it was eventually expanded to 215 cu. in. (3.5 L), for more power and torque.

Like most American V8s of the time, the 215 was a 90-degree OHV V8 with wedge-shaped combustion chambers. Where it differed from its contemporaries was its lightweight aluminum heads and cast aluminum block, with cast-in iron cylinder liners. It was one of the lightest engines in the world, weighing only 318 lb (144 kg) dry, a creditable figure even today. It was 215 lb (98 kg) lighter than a small-block Chevy V8 and barely half the weight of Buick's contemporary "Nailhead" V8. In initial production form, it made 155 gross horsepower (116 kW) with a single two-throat carburetor. It was standard equipment in the Special; it was also offered as an option for the Special's Pontiac cousin, the Tempest, although very few were sold.

Oldsmobile used a version of this engine for its own senior compact, the F-85, but the Olds engine, dubbed "Rockette," had its own cylinder heads. Oldsmobile engineers made various detail changes, including slightly larger intake valves, larger combustion chambers with flat-topped pistons, and six head bolts per cylinder, instead of five. On paper, the changes hardly seem worthwhile, but project engineer Tom Leonard claimed the Olds engine made about 3 additional horsepower (2.2 kW) and was more durable; it weighed 32 lb (15 kg) more than the Buick version.

The Buick 215 was well suited to the Special. Its light weight kept curb weight low, and provided good weight distribution. It was not overwhelmingly powerful, but it provided decent fuel economy and sprightly acceleration for this era. With the standard three-speed manual transmission, a Special could go from 0 to 60 mph (97 kph) in around 11 seconds, with a top speed of a bit over 100 mph (162 kph). The optional two-speed automatic stretched 0-60 mph times by about 2.5 seconds, which was still better than most six-cylinder domestic cars, and not far behind the bigger V8s in many heavier cars. Fuel consumption was 15-16 mpg (14.7 to 15.7 L/100 km) in city driving, close to 20 mpg (11.8 L/100 km) on the road. That was not as good as the Corvair, but at 20% better than a full-size Buick, and on cheaper regular gasoline.

SKYLARKING

The new Special occupied a market position very similar to that of its full-size namesake. With a starting price of $2,330, it was about 15% more than the Corvair, and actually a little cheaper than a Chevy Bel Air; it undercut the cheapest 'big' Buick, the LeSabre, by about 25%. With decent performance, good fuel economy, and the power of the Buick name, it should have been a hit, but first-year production was an underwhelming 86,868, less than a quarter of the old Special's peak sales.

Why didn't it sell better? For one, the recession was over by 1961, and buyers' fascination with economy cars was waning rapidly. Had the compact Special appeared during the recession (which would have been impossible, product development cycles being what they are), it would have been far more successful, but by the time it appeared, buyers were again looking more for power and luxury. Also, despite its admirable space efficiency, buyers were suspicious of the Special's small exterior dimensions. The earlier Special was anything but a small car, with the same body, dimensions, and imposing mass as other Buicks; part of its appeal was that it looked much like any other Buick. Although the Buick design studio stylists had done a fine job of integrating contemporary Buick design cues on a smaller scale (much more successfully than Ford's compact Falcon, which ended up looking rather stubby), the Special seemed like not enough car for many traditional Buick buyers.


Despite its tidy dimensions and sporty pretensions, the Skylark's suspension was tuned for a typical Buick ride: soft and floaty on smooth pavement, unsettled and seasick on rough roads, with lots of lean and understeer in fast turns. Stopping power wasn't bad, although the drum brakes fade significantly in repeated use.

Confusing matters further was the fact that the Special was price almost identically to its senior compact sibling, the Oldsmobile F-85. The F-85 was dimensionally identical, used a very similar engine, and offered the same combination of power, fuel economy, and interior space. There were some mechanical distinctions -- for example, the Oldsmobile used a completely different automatic transmission -- but the only meaningful differences from the average buyer's perspective were styling and the comparative value of the Oldsmobile and Buick names. (The Pontiac Tempest, which shared the same body, but had a significantly different mechanical layout and a lower price, outsold both.)

Worse, the early aluminum engines proved troublesome. Although the 215's design was fundamentally sound, its construction tested the limits of GM's metallurgical capabilities. Unexpected problems arose with excessive cylinder block porosity, forcing the scrapping of many nearly completed engines. Because the problem could be difficult to detect, some of the faulty engines ended up installed in cars, where they quickly developed severe oil leaks. There were also issues with the cooling system, which demanded a different antifreeze formula than iron engines. If owners (or dealers) used the wrong coolant, it would lead to electrolysis, stripping metal off the engine's cooling passages and clogging the radiator, causing overheating and warped head gaskets. Use of improper tools to change the spark plugs could also strip the aluminum plug threads, with expensive consequences. None of these problems were the fault of the engine, but they did not enhance its reputation.

EIGHT INTO SIX

Buick tried to bolster the Special's market position in two ways. First was the late-'61 introduction of a plusher, more upscale version, called Skylark, after the limited-edition model of 1953-54. Like the Corvair Monza, the Skylark was offered only as a coupe or convertible, featuring nicer trim, bucket seats, and a more powerful engine; a higher compression ratio and a four-barrel carburetor boosted the little V8 to 185 gross horsepower (138 kW). The Skylark was followed in 1962 by a cheaper base model, equipped with the first six-cylinder engine Buick had offered since 1930 -- the only V6 made in America.


The Skylark was a good deal more expensive than a basic Special, to the tune of nearly $500. This one has the optional padded vinyl roof -- still something of a novelty in '63 -- and the two-speed Dual Path Turbine Drive automatic. The Turbine Drive blunted the performance of the little V8 somewhat, but it was very smooth. 0-60 mph (0-97 kph) takes a bit under 12 seconds, with a top speed of perhaps 105 mph (170 kph).

The new six, known as the Fireball V-6, was essentially a bored-and-stroked version of the 215 V8, shorn of two cylinders and cast in iron instead of aluminum. Although this reduced its displacement to 198 cu. in. (3.3 L), its iron block and heads made it 46 lb (21 kg) heavier than the V8. It was rated at 135 gross horsepower (101 kW), 20 hp (15 kW) less than the V8, but it returned slightly better gas mileage. More significantly, from Buick's point of view, was the fact that it was significantly cheaper to produce, since it shared much of the V8's tooling.

The V6 worked well enough, but its kinship with the 215 V8 left it with certain basic design problems. V6 engines meant it had a 90° bank angle (the angle between the cylinder blocks), rather than the 60° angle that is optimal for V6s, which resulted in unbalanced secondary shaking forces and an uneven firing order. Rather than adding a balance shaft to cancel those secondary forces, which would have raised production costs, Buick engineers decided instead to simply let the engine shake, using very soft engine mounts to soak up the vibration before it reached the passenger compartment. It worked reasonably well, although the V6 still had a somewhat rough idle with a strange, loping sound, a function of the odd firing order.


The Fireball V6 was essentially a cut-down version of the 215 V8, cast in iron, rather than in aluminum. Sharing the 90° bank angle of the V8 resulted in uneven firing intervals and substantial vibration, particularly at idle, an issue not fully rectified until much later in this engine's long life.

The addition of the V6 and the Skylark nearly doubled sales for the 1962 model year, to a respectable 153,843. For 1963 the Special got an extensive facelift that added about four inches to its overall length. The Skylark was now up to an even 200 gross horsepower (149 kW), which gave it brisk performance, especially with the optional four-speed manual transmission. Sales dipped a bit to 148,770, still not bad.

By then, though, GM management had decided to pull the plug. Buick dealers were complaining that the Special was just too small for their customers (as were Oldsmobile dealers, whose similar F-85 was selling even worse). For 1964 Buick, Oldsmobile, and Pontiac abandoned the Y-body and its unitized construction for a new, bigger A-body riding a separate perimeter frame. The '64 Special was almost a foot longer and several hundred pounds heavier than the '63, to no great advantage in usable space, but it sold a bit better and it was less expensive to build, making it significantly more profitable.

THE CAST-OFF

BORN AGAIN

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NOTES ON SOURCES

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