The biggest automotive success of the 1960s was actually some 20 years in the making.
Since World War II, Americans had shown growing enthusiasm for British and European
sports cars with their rakish looks, handy size, tight handling, and intriguing "foreign"
features like tachometer, floorshift, and individual "bucket" seats. Sports cars attracted
few sales but tons of attention.
It was in 1961 that an astute new Ford Division chief broached the idea of a more
distinctive sporty Ford. A self-professed car-crazy and nobody's fool, Lee Iacocca had
worked in the rental-car business as a high-schooler, attended Lehigh University, and
earned a master's in mechanical engineering at Princeton on a scholarship. After joining
the Ford sales force in Pennsylvania, he devised a novel and successful sales scheme
that McNamara used nationwide. By age 35, Iacocca was a Ford vice-president. A year
later, in 1960, he was promoted to head Ford Division.
The new chief moved quickly to rejuvenate Ford's profitable but stodgy lineup. He
rushed out the Futura, added more "Lively Ones" for mid-1962 and again for "1963 1/2,"
and put fastback rooflines on several models. He also launched an all-out racing
program under the same "Total Performance" banner. By mid-decade, Ford was a
consistent winner on racetracks and road courses the world over, which boosted sales
and the division's bottom line.
But Iacocca wanted something more, suspecting there was a market looking for a new
kind of car. He took his hunch to a 1961 meeting of the Fairlane Group, an informal
planning committee composed of top company execs and Ford advertising people.
Just as chairman Lee Iacocca got Ford rolling on an effort for a sporty, affordable car,
other Ford hands were finishing up a very different think-young car, the Mustang I.
Petite and curvy, this open two-seater borrowed a front-wheel-drive powertrain from
Ford Germany's mainstream Cardinal/Taunus sedan but put it behind the cockpit. Lead
designer John Najjar suggested this mechanical format, then becoming de rigueur for
racing cars. He also came up with the horsey name.
Though simply a what-if exercise at first, the Mustang I impressed design vice-president
Eugene Bordinat. As it happened, Bordinat wanted a newsworthy "bell-ringer" for Ford's
autumn-1961 new-model press preview and ordered that Mustang I be transformed from
clay-model dream to drivable reality.
The Mustang I was not only Dearborn's first true sports car, it was very innovative and
thus quite unexpected from tradition-bound Detroit. Jaded reporters pleaded for a ride at
the new-model preview, then went home to write glowing stories. The public didn't get to
see Mustang I in person until October 1962, when race driver Dan Gurney drove it
around the Watkins Glen circuit in New York before the start of the U.S. Grand Prix.
For a time, there was talk that Ford would build Mustang I for sale, and Najjar's studio
devised a larger windshield, door windows, and a lightweight removable hardtop with that
possibility in mind. But as Iacocca later told the press, Mustang I never had a chance.
Where sports-car purists saw a dream come true, Ford's market-savvy chief saw a car
that would be costly to produce. He also knew that a tight two-seater with hardly any
luggage space would be tough to sell in sufficient numbers to return a sizable profit.
"That's sure not the car we want to build, because it can't be a volume car," he declared.
"It's too far out." Exit Mustang I.
It was still more than two years before the original 1965 Ford Mustang would make its
debut, and Ford was casting about for the right formula. Engineers, designers, and
marketing men were in uncharted territory: No one had ever created the kind of car they
were after.
To get things moving, an impatient Iacocca had the program restarted in August 1962. A
new package was laid down, and the company's three design studios were assigned to
come up with fitting proposals. Iacocca felt the in-house competition was bound to
produce the car everyone was searching for.
The requirements were daunting: a $2500 target price, 2500-pound curb weight,
180-inch overall length, seating for four, standard floorshift, and maximum use of Falcon
components. Styling was to be "sporty, personal, and tight." Marketers threw in the
notion of an arm-long option list so buyers could equip the car for economy, luxury,
performance, or any combination.
The contest pitted the Ford and Lincoln-Mercury divisional studios against a team from
the Advanced Design section under Don DeLaRossa, all guided by design
vice-president Eugene Bordinat. Each studio had just two weeks to come up with one or
more full-size clay models.
Ultimately, seven candidates were wheeled into the Ford Design Center courtyard for an
August 16 executive review. Each had its own character, some more formal than others,
but most featured a long hood and a relatively short rear deck surmounted by a
close-coupled "greenhouse." This look was at least partly inspired by the sporty yet
elegant 1956-57 Continental Mark II, a design benchmark among recent Dearborn cars,
but it was also the basic look of many genuine sports cars. Other shared traits included
full rear-wheel openings and crisp body lines.
Among the gathered seven, one design leaped out, a white notchback coupe. "It was the
only one that seemed to be moving," Iacocca said.
Fittingly perhaps, it came from the Ford Studio headed by veteran designer Joe Oros,
studio manager Gale Halderman and executive designer L. David Ash. Oros had his
team paint their clay white so as to catch management eyes, which it obviously did. It
looked much like the eventual showroom Mustang except for different side treatments
left and right -- the former would be chosen for production -- plus rectangular
headlamps, different trim, and nameplates (more of which shortly). Ironically, this
mockup was a second-thought rush job, completed in only three days after the group
spent its first week on a design that Oros immediately vetoed upon returning from an
outside seminar.
Except for changes typically made for mass production -- suitable bumpers, round
headlights, less windshield rake -- the design was essentially untouched. And most Ford
people didn't want it touched anyway. That included engineers, who bent a good many
in-house rules to keep the styling intact.
The task of "productionizing" the Mustang fell to executive engineer Jack Predergast and
development engineer C. N. Reuter. It was mainly a body engineering job, because the
basic chassis, suspension, and driveline were, by design, shared with the Falcon and
the related "intermediate" Fairlane, new for '62.
Overall length ended up at 181.6 inches, a bit over the specified limit but identical to that
of the reskinned 1964 Falcon. Wheelbase was set at 108 inches, 1.5 inches shorter
than Falcon's, but enough to accommodate four passengers. Though Falcon relied
mainly on six-cylinder engines, designer Joe Oros' team had left plenty of underhood
space for Ford's light and lively new "Challenger" V-8, which arrived with the Fairlane
and became a new option for top-line '63 Falcons.
Though Mustang development focused mainly on a hardtop coupe, the effort more or
less assumed that a convertible would also be offered despite its inevitably higher price
and lower sales. But with racy fastbacks starting to make a comeback in the market,
designers felt a sloped-roof coupe was essential to give Mustang a credible
performance image with American youth. Planners okayed the fastback, and it was all
but wrapped up by mid-October 1963. However, it wouldn't start sale until some six
months after its stablemates.
Why the delay? One reason was that the Mustang was a new idea and thus not a
guaranteed success, however promising it seemed. While many Ford people thought it
would be quite popular, there were a few -- including chairman Henry Ford II -- who
feared a replay of the recent Edsel fiasco. They needn't have worried. Indeed, market
research conducted during the program's final months strongly indicated that Ford had
a winner on its hands. But the Edsel's outlook had been just as rosy, hence a certain
amount of hand-wringing in late 1963.
By that point, Ford had settled on the Mustang name after months of search and
debate. Cougar had emerged as the early favorite, one reason the Oros team model
wore Cougar nameplates and a big stylized cat within its grille. But countless other
names were considered along the way, including Torino, Turino, and even T-5.
Chairman Ford liked "Thunderbird II" and "T-Bird II." Ford Division chief Lee Iacocca,
engineer Donald N. Frey, and others argued for Mustang, though other horses were in
the running for a time, including Colt, Bronco, Maverick -- and Pinto.
In any case, the name wasn't finally decided until late in the game. Indeed, some early
Mustang press photos showed production prototypes with another big cat in the grille.
But a galloping horse soon took its place. This icon was cast from a mahogany carving
by sculptor Waino Kangas working from sketches by John Najjar and Phil Clark for the
Mustang I. Equine name aside, the only other legacy from the little midships roadster
was a small tri-color logo designed by Najjar, which appeared on the production model's
dashboard and lower front fenders.
In many ways, Mustang was a perfect name for the sporty new Ford, evoking romantic
images of free-spirited cowboys astride powerful steeds. Just as important, it was easy to
spell and easy to remember. As one Ford ad man said, Mustang "had the excitement of
the wide-open spaces, and it was American as all hell."
But it wasn't yet a household name, and Ford publicists wanted to build on the buzz
created by the Mustang I. The result was a new showpiece, a convertible logically named
Mustang II. Though billed as another "experiment," this was really an exaggerated
preview of the showroom models, built after tooling was ordered with mostly
production-line parts.
Differences included a five-inch longer hood, a more pointed front, a bulkier tail, a
cut-down windshield, matching liftoff hardtop, no bumpers, and an elaborately trimmed
custom interior. Ford returned to Watkins Glen in October 1963 to unveil the Mustang II.
Response was enthusiastic, which must have lessened some anxiety in Dearborn.
Reporters, noting the car looked factory-ready, now knew what they'd suspected for
months: Ford was up to something potentially very big.
The Mustang II kicked off a six-month publicity buildup to announcement day. The next
major step came on January 21, 1964, when invited reporters went to Dearborn for a
"Mustang Technical Press Conference." Iacocca, who conceived the Mustang idea,
played host, beaming like a proud new papa. "Frankly, we can hardly wait for you to get
behind the wheel of a Mustang," he gushed. "We think you're in for a driving experience
such as you've never had before."
Since World War II, Americans had shown growing enthusiasm for British and European
sports cars with their rakish looks, handy size, tight handling, and intriguing "foreign"
features like tachometer, floorshift, and individual "bucket" seats. Sports cars attracted
few sales but tons of attention.
It was in 1961 that an astute new Ford Division chief broached the idea of a more
distinctive sporty Ford. A self-professed car-crazy and nobody's fool, Lee Iacocca had
worked in the rental-car business as a high-schooler, attended Lehigh University, and
earned a master's in mechanical engineering at Princeton on a scholarship. After joining
the Ford sales force in Pennsylvania, he devised a novel and successful sales scheme
that McNamara used nationwide. By age 35, Iacocca was a Ford vice-president. A year
later, in 1960, he was promoted to head Ford Division.
The new chief moved quickly to rejuvenate Ford's profitable but stodgy lineup. He
rushed out the Futura, added more "Lively Ones" for mid-1962 and again for "1963 1/2,"
and put fastback rooflines on several models. He also launched an all-out racing
program under the same "Total Performance" banner. By mid-decade, Ford was a
consistent winner on racetracks and road courses the world over, which boosted sales
and the division's bottom line.
But Iacocca wanted something more, suspecting there was a market looking for a new
kind of car. He took his hunch to a 1961 meeting of the Fairlane Group, an informal
planning committee composed of top company execs and Ford advertising people.
Just as chairman Lee Iacocca got Ford rolling on an effort for a sporty, affordable car,
other Ford hands were finishing up a very different think-young car, the Mustang I.
Petite and curvy, this open two-seater borrowed a front-wheel-drive powertrain from
Ford Germany's mainstream Cardinal/Taunus sedan but put it behind the cockpit. Lead
designer John Najjar suggested this mechanical format, then becoming de rigueur for
racing cars. He also came up with the horsey name.
Though simply a what-if exercise at first, the Mustang I impressed design vice-president
Eugene Bordinat. As it happened, Bordinat wanted a newsworthy "bell-ringer" for Ford's
autumn-1961 new-model press preview and ordered that Mustang I be transformed from
clay-model dream to drivable reality.
The Mustang I was not only Dearborn's first true sports car, it was very innovative and
thus quite unexpected from tradition-bound Detroit. Jaded reporters pleaded for a ride at
the new-model preview, then went home to write glowing stories. The public didn't get to
see Mustang I in person until October 1962, when race driver Dan Gurney drove it
around the Watkins Glen circuit in New York before the start of the U.S. Grand Prix.
For a time, there was talk that Ford would build Mustang I for sale, and Najjar's studio
devised a larger windshield, door windows, and a lightweight removable hardtop with that
possibility in mind. But as Iacocca later told the press, Mustang I never had a chance.
Where sports-car purists saw a dream come true, Ford's market-savvy chief saw a car
that would be costly to produce. He also knew that a tight two-seater with hardly any
luggage space would be tough to sell in sufficient numbers to return a sizable profit.
"That's sure not the car we want to build, because it can't be a volume car," he declared.
"It's too far out." Exit Mustang I.
It was still more than two years before the original 1965 Ford Mustang would make its
debut, and Ford was casting about for the right formula. Engineers, designers, and
marketing men were in uncharted territory: No one had ever created the kind of car they
were after.
To get things moving, an impatient Iacocca had the program restarted in August 1962. A
new package was laid down, and the company's three design studios were assigned to
come up with fitting proposals. Iacocca felt the in-house competition was bound to
produce the car everyone was searching for.
The requirements were daunting: a $2500 target price, 2500-pound curb weight,
180-inch overall length, seating for four, standard floorshift, and maximum use of Falcon
components. Styling was to be "sporty, personal, and tight." Marketers threw in the
notion of an arm-long option list so buyers could equip the car for economy, luxury,
performance, or any combination.
The contest pitted the Ford and Lincoln-Mercury divisional studios against a team from
the Advanced Design section under Don DeLaRossa, all guided by design
vice-president Eugene Bordinat. Each studio had just two weeks to come up with one or
more full-size clay models.
Ultimately, seven candidates were wheeled into the Ford Design Center courtyard for an
August 16 executive review. Each had its own character, some more formal than others,
but most featured a long hood and a relatively short rear deck surmounted by a
close-coupled "greenhouse." This look was at least partly inspired by the sporty yet
elegant 1956-57 Continental Mark II, a design benchmark among recent Dearborn cars,
but it was also the basic look of many genuine sports cars. Other shared traits included
full rear-wheel openings and crisp body lines.
Among the gathered seven, one design leaped out, a white notchback coupe. "It was the
only one that seemed to be moving," Iacocca said.
Fittingly perhaps, it came from the Ford Studio headed by veteran designer Joe Oros,
studio manager Gale Halderman and executive designer L. David Ash. Oros had his
team paint their clay white so as to catch management eyes, which it obviously did. It
looked much like the eventual showroom Mustang except for different side treatments
left and right -- the former would be chosen for production -- plus rectangular
headlamps, different trim, and nameplates (more of which shortly). Ironically, this
mockup was a second-thought rush job, completed in only three days after the group
spent its first week on a design that Oros immediately vetoed upon returning from an
outside seminar.
Except for changes typically made for mass production -- suitable bumpers, round
headlights, less windshield rake -- the design was essentially untouched. And most Ford
people didn't want it touched anyway. That included engineers, who bent a good many
in-house rules to keep the styling intact.
The task of "productionizing" the Mustang fell to executive engineer Jack Predergast and
development engineer C. N. Reuter. It was mainly a body engineering job, because the
basic chassis, suspension, and driveline were, by design, shared with the Falcon and
the related "intermediate" Fairlane, new for '62.
Overall length ended up at 181.6 inches, a bit over the specified limit but identical to that
of the reskinned 1964 Falcon. Wheelbase was set at 108 inches, 1.5 inches shorter
than Falcon's, but enough to accommodate four passengers. Though Falcon relied
mainly on six-cylinder engines, designer Joe Oros' team had left plenty of underhood
space for Ford's light and lively new "Challenger" V-8, which arrived with the Fairlane
and became a new option for top-line '63 Falcons.
Though Mustang development focused mainly on a hardtop coupe, the effort more or
less assumed that a convertible would also be offered despite its inevitably higher price
and lower sales. But with racy fastbacks starting to make a comeback in the market,
designers felt a sloped-roof coupe was essential to give Mustang a credible
performance image with American youth. Planners okayed the fastback, and it was all
but wrapped up by mid-October 1963. However, it wouldn't start sale until some six
months after its stablemates.
Why the delay? One reason was that the Mustang was a new idea and thus not a
guaranteed success, however promising it seemed. While many Ford people thought it
would be quite popular, there were a few -- including chairman Henry Ford II -- who
feared a replay of the recent Edsel fiasco. They needn't have worried. Indeed, market
research conducted during the program's final months strongly indicated that Ford had
a winner on its hands. But the Edsel's outlook had been just as rosy, hence a certain
amount of hand-wringing in late 1963.
By that point, Ford had settled on the Mustang name after months of search and
debate. Cougar had emerged as the early favorite, one reason the Oros team model
wore Cougar nameplates and a big stylized cat within its grille. But countless other
names were considered along the way, including Torino, Turino, and even T-5.
Chairman Ford liked "Thunderbird II" and "T-Bird II." Ford Division chief Lee Iacocca,
engineer Donald N. Frey, and others argued for Mustang, though other horses were in
the running for a time, including Colt, Bronco, Maverick -- and Pinto.
In any case, the name wasn't finally decided until late in the game. Indeed, some early
Mustang press photos showed production prototypes with another big cat in the grille.
But a galloping horse soon took its place. This icon was cast from a mahogany carving
by sculptor Waino Kangas working from sketches by John Najjar and Phil Clark for the
Mustang I. Equine name aside, the only other legacy from the little midships roadster
was a small tri-color logo designed by Najjar, which appeared on the production model's
dashboard and lower front fenders.
In many ways, Mustang was a perfect name for the sporty new Ford, evoking romantic
images of free-spirited cowboys astride powerful steeds. Just as important, it was easy to
spell and easy to remember. As one Ford ad man said, Mustang "had the excitement of
the wide-open spaces, and it was American as all hell."
But it wasn't yet a household name, and Ford publicists wanted to build on the buzz
created by the Mustang I. The result was a new showpiece, a convertible logically named
Mustang II. Though billed as another "experiment," this was really an exaggerated
preview of the showroom models, built after tooling was ordered with mostly
production-line parts.
Differences included a five-inch longer hood, a more pointed front, a bulkier tail, a
cut-down windshield, matching liftoff hardtop, no bumpers, and an elaborately trimmed
custom interior. Ford returned to Watkins Glen in October 1963 to unveil the Mustang II.
Response was enthusiastic, which must have lessened some anxiety in Dearborn.
Reporters, noting the car looked factory-ready, now knew what they'd suspected for
months: Ford was up to something potentially very big.
The Mustang II kicked off a six-month publicity buildup to announcement day. The next
major step came on January 21, 1964, when invited reporters went to Dearborn for a
"Mustang Technical Press Conference." Iacocca, who conceived the Mustang idea,
played host, beaming like a proud new papa. "Frankly, we can hardly wait for you to get
behind the wheel of a Mustang," he gushed. "We think you're in for a driving experience
such as you've never had before."
Index of The History Section
References (howstuffworks.com)
Small, light and innovative, the mid-engine Mustang I
began as an early-1961 paper exercise.
began as an early-1961 paper exercise.
The initial sketches impressed Ford execs enough that
they ordered up a realistic full-size mockup.
they ordered up a realistic full-size mockup.
A fully operable model was built in 1961 for publicity
and to test public reaction.
and to test public reaction.
Sports-car purists raved about the Mustang I, but Ford
deemed the car too costly and impractical to produce.
deemed the car too costly and impractical to produce.
The Allegro-X car shown in August 1963 was one of many
ideas to come from the T-5 program, but it proved a
literal red herring.
ideas to come from the T-5 program, but it proved a
literal red herring.
Lincoln-Mercury submitted a crisp notchback in Ford's
in-house competition to design the original Mustang.
in-house competition to design the original Mustang.
A Ford Studio design was eventually chosen. Note the
Cougar insignia indicative of an early proposal for the
car's name.
Cougar insignia indicative of an early proposal for the
car's name.
The design for the production Mustang can be
traced, mostly untouched, to the Ford Studio model.
traced, mostly untouched, to the Ford Studio model.
Designer Joe Oros felt a fastback coupe would give
Mustang a truly sporty image and got it approved.
Mustang a truly sporty image and got it approved.
Many newspapers and magazines previewed Ford's
new sporty car with early PR photos of a "Mustang"
wearing a Cougar grille emblem.
new sporty car with early PR photos of a "Mustang"
wearing a Cougar grille emblem.
Unveiled in October 1963, the experimental Mustang II
was actually a fully engineered production Mustang
with a custom liftoff hardtop."
was actually a fully engineered production Mustang
with a custom liftoff hardtop."
Early Prototypes
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| Mustang & Shelby History Part I |