Imperial Home Page -> Imperials by Year -> 1964 -> Ed Trenn
I'm probably one of the few Imperial fanatics who was "converted" to the fold. I remember reading a comparison report of luxury cars in an old Popular Mechanics when I was teenager. At the time, I thought the '65 Imperial looked odd. The bulging decklid and propeller-like bumper didn't appeal to me at all.
Ten years later, I rode along to an Imperial club car show with a friend in his '65 Crown. The Crown was very quiet and comfortable, and I began to appreciate the crisp lines and the interesting use of chrome on all the Imperials. From that point on I was hooked. Even that '65 tail end looked better to me.
When I sought an Imperial to grace my garage, I looked at everything from a triple-white 1962 convertible to a 1967 4-door Crown. None was the right one for me, and other cars ended up as my daily drivers. Still, in 1992 I finally purchased a 1964 Crown Coupe. The Crown Coupe in 1964 was aimed at the Thunderbird market, but it was far too large to be considered a personal coupe. The roofline was the same as the LeBaron, with a smaller rear window. Coupe interiors had unusual detailing on the seats:
The only seams were at the edges of the cushions; seatbacks featured two stacked, rectangular cushions above a horizontal cushion. A singular strip of trim, attached below the uppermost seatback cushion, stretched across the lower cushion and the bottom of the seat, giving it the appearance of an airliner seat. The passenger seat reclined, and the rear resembled bucket seats with a center armrest.
The exterior was designed by Elwood Engel, creator of the 1961 Lincoln Continental. Many styling features of the Lincoln were adapted to the Imperial. Yet several elements like the split grill, the forward slant of the fenders, and the unusually small taillights gave the Imperial a unique look. The 413 engine, curved side glass, panoramic windshield, pushbutton Torqueflite, gloveboxes in the doors, and torsion-bar suspension were signature features carried over from the Exner Imperials. I bought my Imperial from a local Virginia man who was selling five or six Imperials. Almost all were barely more than parts cars. The 1964 Coupe looked complete, but needed a lot. In my zeal to adopt this neglected orphan, I ignored the incorrect hubcaps (from a 1966, but with painted centers matching the Royal Ruby exterior), the frayed and mismatched upholstery (aqua checkered in the front, pinstripe black and white in the rear), the questionable mechanics, and the paint so badly faded that no buffing would revive it. On the plus side, it was basically a sound car and it was reasonably priced. I arranged to come back with a certified check. It was a case of, "If I had known then..."
My brother followed me in his car as I drove the Imperial home. He noticed a rear wheel wobbling and something dripping from beneath the car. I made the journey safely, but I walked in the door and promptly got sick to my stomach. I realized this diamond-in-the-rough needed LOTS of polish.
Thanks to longtime friends in Chicago, I had support and sympathy from two other Imperial owners. The problem was, I never knew what would break next. After replacing the power steering pump and fixing the wobbly wheel, the cooling system needed work. Then the driver's door latch gave out on the road and swung the door open, putting a big crease in the front fender. I resorted to bungee cords to keep it closed. Then the brakes failed when a line blew. (THAT was fun--I was rounding a curve towards a stop sign when I realized I had no brakes.) When the brakes were done, the power windows needed work. Then the exhaust system, the carrier bearing... But at least I was able to find the correct hubcaps. I took them apart and polished every nook and cranny; they helped draw people's eyes away from the faded paint. Just at the point of total frustration, the vanity plates arrived. As with most states, I had submitted several choices. Since Imperials were the choice of the banker in the TV series, "The Beverly Hillbillies," I decided to seek a variation of the last name, Drysdale. One choice was DRYSDAL. The State of Virginia added another humiliation to the list. The license plates read, "DAYSDAL." (see the image at the top of this page)
I live in a large condo building, and a couple of neighbors would pass the Imperial on the way to their parking space. "Look at the shiny hubcaps," one would say as they rounded the corner. "DAYSDAL," the other would read off the plates as they passed the rear bumper. "Poor Ed!"
By now you must be wondering why I still have this car. I have several reasons. First off, it's an Imperial. Even needing a paint job and mechanical work, the lines of the car are classic. The Coupes are very rare and attractive. The interiors are especially stylish and unusual. Interestingly, Imperials have become more popular with members of the car clubs I've joined--I know of almost a dozen that have been purchased in the past three years. Secondly, my Imperial-owning friends are a wonderful source of advice and help. My Chicago friends even located a parts car, helped me strip it of all useful parts, had the hulk towed away, and have stored the pieces for future use. The beautiful black leather interior will be installed in my Coupe as soon as the bodywork is completed, and all three of us benefit from the other parts. (A parts car is great comfort when you drive such a rare beast.)
Finally, I'm the most stubborn German you're likely to meet. I refuse to let this car go quietly away. It's already cost me more than a fully restored Coupe, but I intend to see this car as handsome and reliable as all Imperials should be.
I am, however, going to get a new vanity plate when this one expires. The most likely choice is "ILL BRED." If anyone should ask, I'll tell them it's because I'm from Illinois.
