Как ПОЯВИЛСЯ и ИСЧЕЗ автомобильный РАЙ

Everyone of us likes to dream. About new achievements, about new friends, about new things, about a new house, about a new car, etc. Before we go to sleep, cuddling under the blanket and fantasizing about our ideal life. Such a pastime. There's one satisfaction and unique sensation when you come up in your real life to some point you dreamt about some time ago while cuddling under the blanket before sleep. I think, every now and then, all of us felt that: when we were accepted To the university we wished to learn in; when we got a job

in the company we've been dreaming of; when we started realtionships or got married to the person we were in love with and fantasized about our life together. It's a very cool feeling when your dreams become reality. But I have a question. Do you have a car dream? It's obvious that each of us has a specific car we dream of. Like, I shall buy that car, and my life will change. That's clear. Everyone has something like that. Someone even dreams of an Opel. But is there such a dream or some car expierience that each car user

dreams of? Roughly speaking, something you tell about to your fella or to your friend, and they answer, oh yeah, I thought about it, it would be cool, I've been dreaming about it my whole life. Perhaps, something like that could play that part? To get behind the wheel of an F1 race car! Well, that's a no. Not every one of us could handle that; and everyone understands That the pressure is absolutely wild. Not everyone dreams about it, if honestly. Well, the F1 is just the F1. Someone could say that, and they would be right. That's not

a dream for all. And the dream of a new car isn't for all, too. For example, someone could dream about a new Gelandewagen very intensely. And all the other, mentally healthy people don't give a damn about a Gelandewagen and everything connected to it. Just don't make us apologize for spitting. But what if I tell you that I know One of your car dreams that each one of you has? I'm sure that once in a lifetime you imagined one picture in your dreams that was connected to a car, and you wanted to be in that picture

very much. I bet that each one of you, if only just once, imagined something like that: a highway to the very horizon; clear blue sky; scorching sun; endless fields on either, side of you; mountains somewhere on the horizon; And you're driving down that road in some classical, open-shell Ford Mustang, in some cool shades. The woman you love is beside you, and the two of you are just driving along to the sounds of rock-n-roll, feeling the moment, without a goal, without a plan, without a destination. The highway, a classical car of 1960s, music, wind in your

hair - and the two of you. And you don't need anything else. Been there? I know you were. And that image is in our heads; I didn't imagine it, you didn't, too. If you come up to any person and begin to describe this image they would join you and begin to add some details. And then you both, like, yeah, it would be cool! And sometimes you think to send everything to hell, to go the US, to lend a car like that, and to fly behind the wheel along those endless highways - without a goal, without

a plan, without a destination. Yes, that would be cool. And I have a question. Why is this picture in our heads? That's not only our thing; if you come up to any road user in the world and begin to tell about that, they would not only understand what you're speaking of they would join you all the same in detail. They would say how cool it would be right away. Why any road user who knows how to enjoy the driving has that image? It's integrated somewhere deep into our brains as if we're born with it. And

it will be with us till we die. You couldn't escape from this fucking Highway with no less fucking Mustang. For Christ sake, why don't we want to get behind the wheel of a Volga in the forests of Syberia, for example? We want only a Mustang and an American highway. Of course, perhaps it is so because you can go home again from the American highway. But one way or another, we have that image in our heads, and we couldn't escape. Did someone create it in our heads with purpose or not? Could it be just a concourse

of circumstances, or did they just put in into some movie, and we're now drooling about it? Or is there a logical explanation to everything, and someone had really put that image into our head? But who is that someone? Car companies? Hollywood? Highway constructors? And why would anyone to put that in our heads? What's the profit? And why do we, who are living in entirely different time and different world, feel a very strange and languishing nostalgia for that time we'd never lived in And would never live in? Everything I could say at that moment - there

is a lot of questions; but you hold on and get yourselves comfortable. I have one rolling R story about that. Today, you will find out at what moment the car religion began to appear; and how the Italian mafia was involved in that religion; and why children of very small age were seated behind the wheel of a car; how criminal smugglers invented the car tuning; and how two guys from the families of average immigrants created a car dream; how one car model actually burned its passengers up, and why the car manufacturer didn't want to do anything

about it; And why the head of a car company smuggled cocaine; and why the whole country was literally crazy about cars; and who else misses those times with us where they could never live in? Asafiev. Rolling R Stories Divine Integration But what if I tell you that I know one of your car dreams that each one of you has? By the way. I'm sure that once in a lifetime you imagined one picture in your dreams that was connected to a car, and you wanted to be in that picture very much. I bet that each one

of you... Dreams. Dreams, yeah. What are those dreams? Those are for dawdlers and young people. They're not real. Perhaps, I did have a dream, too. It's hanging on the wall. My sweetheart. My darling. Lex, do you remember? Do you remember how that ended? I had an egg on my face. I came for the bride show to another city. To Leningrad. And there was the Storch bicycle instead of a car. I was carless. And I spent all the money For the road and hotels. How do you believe in dreams after that? Wait, what's your story? Oh

my! The real one. Lex, go to the yard, free the seat for the guest. Go frighten the children. Make some recap videos. So, what's your story? It's a treasure. So, I see, you had some problems with buying a car? Well, that was in Stalin's times... Well, why in Stalin's times? A week ago. Well, there you are! Right now, if you want to buy a car, you don't need to read papers, or visit garages. Do you have Internet? Yes. Whatsapp. Well, if you have it, you should open Avito. On Avito, you can adjust search filters and

choose a car that suits you. You clearly spend much time in the country. So you can find some crossover, like Creta. Worldly miracles! Did you see it? Better than the cavalry of my dreams. Of course. Chose the filter, brand and mark, Click the pre-owned car, chose the operational 80 km and more, no more than 2 owners, and look at the result. But how could you know that the merchant puts a good price and won't screw me up? Avito ads have special markers, Good Price and Great Price. That means the service compared that ad with others

by many characteristics and graded it. For example, here's an ad with a good price; we open it and see that car had only one owner, and no accidents. Some ads on Avito have an "owner" mark. That means that the seller Granted the service with documents that confirm his ownership of the car. Miracles! Okay, let's do it. Buy it. Wait. Before you go and see the car, you should check it out so that your situation with the Storch bicycle wouldn't repeat. You can do it with the help of the authotheca; it's an Avito service that helps

you check the history of the car: number of owners, accidents, run, history of maintenance and so on. At first, you receive the whole basic information about the car. There are no limits found, No accidents, everything's ok. Carsharing and taxi... Do you know what that is? Young people. Rave. Yeah, it didn't participated. The owner is really the only one; he bought the car June 24, 2017, and registered it June 25. So far so good. And there is nothing on repair payments, and there is also information that the car was put on Avito in October of this

year. If you look further down, you can find the performance history. It shows what and on what run happened with the car. Here, we can see that the car went to the dealer 2 months after it was bought. Perhaps, it was maintenance. Another maintenance, on 17,900 km. And the following records show us that the owner went for maintenance on the regular basis and cared for his car. At 58,500 km, he put it on sale. Further down, the diagram is built based on that data. It's smooth, without gaps. That's one of the signs that the run

is real. Yes, you could see the car in person. That's the progress! So what? Could I go? Yes, you could. But next time, you should look for a car on Avito and check it through the authotheca. Okay, come on, buy it. I'll get my savings book from under the cupboard. - Should we grab Lex with us? - Let's grab him! There are the real miracles. Lex! Lex! Where are you? Alexei! Chapter I. The Land of Hope, Party, and Poverty If we fantasize about the US in our dream, Let's begin with them. It would be weird

if I would, like, okay - Finland from XVII century, guys! Two Finns harness their reindeer - let's go! Our dream is American today, that's why we begin with America. But not since 1950s or 1970s, but since 1920s. That was the time right after the World War I. All the evolved and progressive Europe was demolished and wasted by war. And its soldiers, wounded and crippled, returned to their homes. And the world was coming to after the conflict that had been never seen before. On one hand, the war was over, The world could rest. But on the

other hand, everyone who returned to their homelands were waited by broken huts, hunger, poverty and unemployment. At the same time, somewhere far across the ocean, like a longed-for oasis in the middle of a desert, there was America. There was no war there but jobs, perspectives and Coca Cola. 1920s were very fat times for America. No only USA territories weren't involved in any military actions but also the US industry provided the Allies with ammunition, tanks, motors and other military hardware. And not for the French good looks or a pair of croissants but for real money. Also,

beside providing weapons, America loaned 24 million dollars to the Allies that they had to return but with interest. Plus, you should know that before the war, the US had some enormous pace of development of manufactures, industry, the whole economics. The industrial revolution was rumbling in the country. Every day, new manufactures and plants were opening, and Detroit began its path to being the industrial capital of the world. It would be strange if the country with the most developed industry Among all the countries in the world didn't receive some profit from the global war conflict. Just imagine!

Those people wage wars for free! I can't! Wipe those tears! What? Those are from your mouth? In the end, by making much money off the war, the country became the example of success and wealthy life for the whole world. Of course, the population of the country felt that effect, too; their purchasing power grew, their consumer basket grew, and the quality of life in general. When people en mass keep up With their basic needs in food and shelter, i.e. you have a place to live and food to eat, and above that, you have some amount of

money and free time left, so what would you want? You want entertainment. And the Americans wanted it in such amounts and in such kinds that KaZantip, comparing to it, was a rally of come local librarians. This period in the USA history is called the Roaring Twenties, and it's no accident. We should notice that all the country was actually rumbling and roaring in cultural ecstasy. In 1920s, everything went to hell: common foundations, social convention and way of life. Instead of mournful organ and classical music, the Americans got a rush of magnificent jazz, cheerful country and heart-stirring

blues. And the most important thing was you could and should dance to that music. You couldn't rock the dance floor to the organ music. But when a jazz or a blues quartet came onto the stage and began to create dirt on musical instruments live, all the bar or cabaret broke into a dance instantly. One, two, three - hard bass, you're free! And you should realize that sound recording appeared at that moment as such. People learnt how to record music on vinyl, And phonographs weren't so expensive for a common citizen. That's why music was roaring not

only at night from cabarets, but during the day from apartments and houses of common people. People were dancing everywhere and always: at home, in the living room, in the kitchen, visiting friends, in local bars and little shops, on cabaret tables and on stages together with dazzling dancing girls. And as soon as something funny happens, guess what happens next? Correct. Women begin to undress. In 1920s, there were skirts above knees, Cocktail dresses with low necks, bare backs, and slashed from the very hips. And make-up became popular not only among ladies of pleasure, but among women of

virtue, too. They shouldn't give all the men to some painted whores. Right? Right! In order to defeat the enemy, you should think and look like the enemy. Just give us, men, some enemies. We'll handle all of them. Social principles of respectable behavior were momentarily thrown to grandparents rooms and walled-up forever and ever. The typical yell of an American from that time: "Dancing at arm's length!? Go fuck yourselves, we're drunk and half-naked, what arm's length!? You couldn't put a piece of paper between me and and that hot chick! And what would be put through tonight... You

shouldn't know about it at all, my darlings." By the way, about the things you could put through... Divine Integration You put a young girl in a prison cell, I won't pay for destiny rubles as well. I won't see freedom anymore, but... I'm telling you, this is a mistake! Okay, journalist. - You need Astafiev! - Take it easy. - I'm Asafiev. - Sit down there for the night. We'll figure it out. Without a T. I'm busy, actually! Busy-shmeezy! I'm telling you, you're gonna sit, and we'll figure it out. Meet your lady-friend. You again. Here you go,

traveler! Okay, bro. I'll tell you that. We're gonna sit here for a while, and I'm gonna save my voice. Don't be shy, sit down next to me. Let's talk. Did you sell keys from the city to out-of-towners on the train station again? Nah. That's an old thing. I have a new thing now. Look. Charming for cashback. What? Captain, tell the kid about it. What can I tell here? I've met this one in the train station. She promised a universal cashback to me. Anything I buy, those money would always come back to me. And so, I

gave her 3,000 rubles. Black Friday is soon enough. But nothing came back, actually. Where is my cashback, Isolda? I have it! So wait, so you wanted your money from shopping back, and you contacted a fortune teller? Well, yeah. We plowed all the garden, too, and we have courses. We practice articulation and thought position, a bit of oratory. We read Yesenin's poetry. We cooked compote. She's a normal woman. She's warm. Didn't you try some reliable services? LetyShops, for example. Let - what? What do I let? To whom? LetyShops is a cashback service. And they make sales

promotions during Black Friday. Give me your computer, I'll show you. Look here. There's a big sale now during the Black Friday. Аnd because of that, LetyShops made sales promotions. If you order from their top partners like M Video, iHerb, SberMegaMarket, Eldorado with cashback from LetyShops, you could win a whole bunch of prizes and spare some money. Win? How? Simple. For every 25 cashback dollars, you get a participation card. The amount of cards isn't limited. You get as many cards as much cashback you get. What's your means of transportation? Electric train. And you could win a

black Tesla Model 3. The same electrical train but cooler. Among the prizes, there are iPhones, PlayStations, AirPods and other words you don't know as I see. Would I spare some money? You will. Because for the sale, LetyShops makes burning cashback for top shop partners. For example, if you could get 200 rubles for some wares before, now you get 1200 rubles. Because of the 6-time increasement. Press some key so that thing could work already. Everything is simple. You activate burning cashback either on the site or on the LetyShops add. There are different sales promotions all the

time, not once in a year. All the information about the sale and the drawing will be in bio. Don't lose your chance to win and spare money. So, can I go now? Oh, chief, he always does that. By the way, I'm Igor. Rolling R Stories All that magnificent debauch pulled up moviemaking very quickly. Movies appeared in the early 1900s, And in the middle of 1920s, it already was a giant industry; 800 movies were screened a year at that time. Universal Studio, Paramount Pictures, Warner Brothers - don't mix them with Brothers. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Columbia Pictures... All those

studios were working at full speed. And they filmed movies about lavish living, about incredible adventures of rich people, about beautiful women, about luxury, cars and everything like that. Screens transmitted the image of an enterprising and persistent American that handles all the obstacles with filigree precision And represents that unclear but very interesting American dream. You could use the Great Gatsby movie as a reference. The message and the way of life those films showed were very much like it. They told about success, money, luxurious life and love. From that point of view, the country looked like one

big party. Especially, for those people who lived in other countries. I remind you, in the rest of the civilized world, there was havoc, effects of war, hunger, pain and unemployment. And for all the people who wanted pretty and peaceful life, the USA was an ideal country with eternal party, perspectives and success. Welcome to USA, my boys! We already have huge perspectives here! I'm fucking sick and tired. Motherfucker! Of course, lots of immigrants came to the country from every end of the world, including Europe. There were no perspectives in European countries, only broken cities, unemployment and

scorched earth. That's why people packed their bags, took their families under their arms, and left their own but broken homes in hope for a better life in the country of eternal party. One of the country people were abandoning en masse was Italy. If you take the period from 1880 till 1915, back then, In general, 19 million Italians moved to the USA. They fled from their own country not only because of war, but because of a bunch of inner problems. We're not gonna look at that context in this video. We won't need it. We'd race into

it in some red Ferrari some other time when we're gonna talk about Italian car industry. As I imagine how many times I would have to say the world Ferrari during that video, I'm sweating. Anyway, for our current video, here's an important thing. Italians went to the USA to work in hopes for the better life. Like people from CIS go to Russia, those Italians went to the US thinking about doing some hard work that didn't demand any additional skills or education at all. Those guys quartered in one New York's neighbourhood in the Lower East Side, and

the locals even called that neighbourhood the Little Italy. But that Little Italy had even so little difference from the real Italy. The Lower East Side was an actual ghetto. Quite the oppostie to expectations and Hollywood movies. American bullies wandered around dirty streets; 50-60 immigrants lived in one apartment. There were no heating or toilets. That neighbourhood was the personification of poverty. Expectations of all the newcomers about merry and careless lives dissappeared at once. It was hard to find the job with a normal salary. Moreover, you live God knows where, you're surrounded by God knows who. Sometimes,

you hear from next rooms the familiar "Mamma mia! What the fuck, Isabella!?" - but that's the only reminder of your far away homeland. And you should understand that those guys were feeling great personal responsibility for their families they brought to those conditions on their own will. Those conditions didn't match their expectations. In fact, the situation was no better than in their homeland, maybe even worse. But the first generations of settlers mostly believed and hoped that they could bring their American dream to life with hard work. But their children didn't believe in honest work, and that's

understandable. There were no examples when hard work was duly appreciated, they didn't see them. Imagine, you're 8 years old. Your house was destroyed during the war. Your parents got you, told you that you're going to the new country where you would live well. You go across the ocean in a cargo hold that is jam-packed with people. Everyone is hungry, children cry and scream, you're cold and uncomfortable. But you tough it out because you're gonna arrive soon, and everything would end like a bad dream. But no! You find yourself in some scuffed apartment, as cold as

the cargo hold, crowded, and with the same smells. Your parents sweat their guts out from dawn till dusk to earn their piece of bread, and you don't see them almost at all. In the end, as a child, you're on your own. You don't know the language, you have not friends, and local kids tease you, beat you and take away your humble money. And somewhere beside your neighbourhood, there are children who are pretty dressed and well-fed, with pretty toys, riding expensive cars. And you're in one city with them, so close that you could touch them. But

there is an abyss between you and them. You look at your tired parents. You sadly drag your spoon through your empty soup, And think of what you have to do inorder to live so merrily and carelessly as rich people in the next block. Everything you need for success is OnlyFans where you could make money off wankers! The only example before your eyes when Italians gained some success are some strange guys on the streets. They wear long coats, smoke expensive cigars, and rings on their little fingers have stones for several thousand dollars. And they don't even

smell like your neighbour. And the most important thing is that they're one blood with you. Many Italians are among them; but somehow, they don't live in a hovel next to you. They live in warm and modern apartments in brand new sky scrapers, or they rent rooms in five-star hotels. And they drivechiny and chromized cars. But for some reason, your parents and your neighbours have little liking for those guys. And when you and your parents meet them on the street, your mom begins to squeeze your hand tighter. And you automatically squeeze your bum cheeks. And even

if your parents don't explain anyting to you, You get it without any words. You've already seen those guys in your country. You know that they are the mafia. At that moment, we should have some context about the Italian mob. In their home country, in Italy, those guys are called Cosa Nostra. That translates as "our cause" from Italian. The thing is that initially, the mafia appeared not as a criminal group but as a certain organization that protected local citizens. In Italy, during many centuries, beginning from XIV century, there was unstable power. The Italian Northd was constantly

at war with the South. Arabs, French and Spaniards were attacking the country constantly, and so on. At some point, the guys from the South were sick and tired of it, and they organized their own undeground government that was called Cosa Nostra. "Our region is our cause. Go fuck yourseves." Of course, the mafia wasn't an official government, but they had real power in their hands, almost completely. In XIX century, the North and the South of Italy actually joined, and the official government began to press local groups very hard making them to go underground. Of course, when

your government and your police gun for you together, The first thought you have in mind is leaving the country. Where do you leave? To the US, of course! Mobsters moved to the US as whole groups business in their country with. And in that new country, they got up to their necks into criminal life at once. They had nothing to lose: if you're gunned for in one country, and this is the country of possibilities... You should be sassy and don't shit yourself. And everything will be fine. No! Don't tell me that! - I'm done. - No!

- I'm the real mafia from YouTube. - Vito! Don't you dare! That was the life in the US in 1920s. From one hand, feast, party, and merriment. From the other hand, poverty, cold and hunger. And as sad as it might sound, that was the normal situation in rich countries where the huge amount of refugees and immigrants from other countries moves to. There will always be a flourishing and feasting layer of successful, reach and beautiful tops, and a deprived, hungry and grey layer of beggars who want their piece of happiness, too. But there was one event

that turned that picture over and that gifted a long hoped-for chance for a ticket to the better life for those who wanted that with all their hearts. The Prohibition. Divine Integration Let's begin from the start. You said that shops cause panic attack with you, and also a frantic wish to sink into the earth. How did that happen? Well, doctor.. Let's begin from the start. It began 3 months ago when I happily lost my phone. That had to happen at some point, right? Go on and don't panic. When people lose their phones, how do they work?

Or call? I can't call using my hand, right? So I had to... Chose. Yes. I - had - to - chose. I went to the mall. Beside a lot of people, there are a lot of phones. There are thousands of them! And it's hard, you know. Mega Pixels and Pixels. Mega. Callcom and Snapdragon. I don't get it! Well, you have an iPhone. And back there - Huawei, Xiaomi... What is it!? Why do they cost differently? 3 months ago, I looked like this. Do I look like it? No, of course. Consultants are calling. Marina, Feodor, Sergey.

I know them. They invite me for their birthdays. But I can't chose still. I heard you. You case is really complicated. But I have a solution - the e-Katalog. Doctor. Here's my catalogue. No, I'm talking about the e-Katalog. You can find an item you need, find outeverything about it and compare it with other items without going to the mall. And a phone? Is there a phone to find? Of course. The whole section with smartphones which are divided by segments: game leaders, with better camera, anything. And what if I need a phone with special options? You

could mark them in the detailed filter of the catalogue. You can mark many options from brand and memory volume to matrix and thickness. And if some option is unclear, there's help near the margin which tells you what those are. Also, there are many materials on the e-Katalog that would help you to define your choice and look at the device closer. And the item page has always reviews of real buyers. Okay, we added some options. Do you imagine it? And I have a giant line of phone choices. How could I chose? You can compare models on

the site. Chose all models you're interested in and get the comparison table. There, we see the best characteristics. And at the bottom of the table, there's another table with price dynamics of the model. Okay, I chose the phone. And then? A lot of prices. How could I decide? In order to by a cost-efficient device, you should open the page of that device and go to the price section. There, you'll se a lot of shops where you could buy that specific device. You could sort those shops out both by rating and by prices. Beside smartphones, you

could find on the e-Katalog some earphones, home appliances, even snow tyres. So what? I've run out of arguments, or what? I'm telling you. And in the bio under the video, you could find the link with comparison of all popular leaders on the e-Katalog. Go and seek for wares even more comfortably. Doctor, who are you talking to? I'm not a doctor. Chapter II. You Are Not You When You're Sober In our previous video about ecology, oil industry and electrocars, we've mentioned the Prohibition already. Some of you could say right now, "Well yeah, I've heard something like

that already. Have you run out of themes? Will you tell about one and the same thing?" Yes, we've already spoken about the alcohol prohibition in the US. But that's a very complicated question and a very interesting period of US history that concurred with the period of the rise of car industry. It's highly possible that we will return To it in our future videos if that would be necessary. And it's necessary in this video. Trust me, I'm a professional. Professional alcoholic. In the "Ecology", we told you about the Prohibition from the point of view of the

oil industry, how those guys used the alcohol prohibition in order to squeeze all the competitors from the fuel market. And if you have a question in your head of where alcohol concerns the fuel, then you should watch the video. You'll like it. But in this video, the important part is that the Prohibition was profitable not only for oil industry but also for every large manufacturers of that time. The main ambassador of the alcohol prohibition was, of course, the tea-totaller Henry Ford. First, he didn't drink at all because he didn't think it to be wise. Second,

drunken workers on his plants were a huge pain in his ass. And with the amount of workers Ford had, his ass was more like a hedgehog than the ass. Henry Ford had the most modern and smoothly running assembly line productions of that era. The assembly line is built that way that each step, even the smallest, is very important. Imagine, you have some giant manufacture, and a very big human centipede that assembles Ford Model T's. And imagine that some of those dudes would drink or come to the shift with hangover. Of course, that man would work

slower and would screw up more. That's not enough that the assembly line would begin work slower because of one man, but also the half of the production after the drunken dude would be shopworn or rebuilt. Because he messes up. That's why, on Ford's plants, alcohol was strictly forbidden. That was controlled by a special internal service. And all of that existed even before the Prohibition. When the workers came to the factory, they were first proved if they were sober. And then, during the whole day, they were controlled so that no one could get hammered. And if

anyone got caught, they would be fired to hell right away. No matter who you were, a worker, a shop foreman, a manager. But if you came to work drunk, you did that for the last time; you wouldn't work there at all, period. And since Ford's work conditions were very cool, with high salary, medical support, paid leaves and everything like that, everyone was afraid to lose their places And abided by the rules and regulations. Sober, sad, but they did it. John! Let's go to the bar on Friday. - No. - Why!? It's a last day to

relax in the week. - No. - How could you live such a boring life? You faggot. I'm on heroine. Of course, when public discussions began if they needed to enact the Prohibition, Ford was in the first ranks. He was all in favor. And it wasn't so simple to tell to such a respected man with his ideas to go to hell. If Rockefeller and the oil industry were acting quietly, just funding activists, and sometimes appearing on some big sermons of reverend fathers, then Ford shot square without embarrassment at every turn. He said that although their government

made money off alcohol excises and replenished its budget with it, alcohol was still unprofitable for the country in the long term because working capacity and society suffered and blah-blah-blah. Roughly speaking, imagine you have a boyfriend. Men, I know that's hard. I understand. But you'll make it. I have faith in you. Let's together believe you have a boyfriend. That's not as hard it seems. I checked. Anyway, it's not enough you have a boyfriend; You have to imagine that jerk wouldn't mind to toss off a glass or a bucket of alcohol in a local bar in the

evening. He returns home drunk in the morning, he always is late for work or even blows it off. Of course, any career development, or advance in office, or just some decent employment is out of the question. And you, being a self-respecting woman, want a fur coat, an iPhone and a holiday on the coast of Krasnodar Krai. You look at all of this, and you don't understand what to do with it. You've already tried all the traditional methods: you grumbled and nagged, you threatened him with a pan, You chased him around the house, but still no

good. You can't help but to hide alcohol in every corner or even to remove it from your apartment so that he wouldn't have any chance to kiss the cup. He should only kiss his wife, nothing else. Dumplings again. Creepy. And something like that happened on the state level. Activists and other characters who advocated the Prohibition not only were in the tank for righteousness, virtue and everything like those things no one needed, But they also justified their position with the fact that drunk people were inefficient people. Because everyone was drinking and having fun 24/7, no one

could work. And who would want to work when they had only fun things, drinking and half-naked women all around? Look at that guy, he only thought about work, and he felt ill at once! But if you prohibit alcohol, everyone would be sober and shocked that they had lived so recklessly, and they would run for work, and everyone would live happily! In any case, in 1920, the government passed the Prohibiton. They seriously signed some amount of papers, set some seals and abolished alcohol. After that, they adjorned being satisfied. But the product demand didn't go anywhere. The

Americans always had a taste of beautiful life, of hanging out and of cabarets with dancing girls. And alcohol was an irreplacible attribute of fun. There was no way to skip it. And if some very high demand exists, the supply wouldn't be long in coming. At first, the mafia didn't understand what to do with all that stuff, but then they did understand! Let's load our guns! We're going to save your burning pipes! Got a joke? Mario... burning pipes... Fuck, I'm 30 years old, and I'm doing some shit so that you could laugh! But you wouldn't even

smile, you jerk! You should understand that to the time of the Prohibition, the mafia already managed to get stronger. They legalized immigrants, forged documents, smuggled weapons and etc. And the ranks of those who served the family were refilled with those newcomers who had nothing to lose. Teenagers living in ghettos committed street crimes in their neighbourhoods by themselves at first. They took some small money from people, they stole some crap In little stores and apartments, and so on. And because the mafia had their ears everywhere, especially in criminal neighbourhoods, important people knew about all thieves and

hooligans. And if some remarkable or especially stone-cold people appeared amongst the general yoot, they were invited to work for the family at once. At first, they were given some simple tasks, like, take that sealed wrap to some place; go and talk to that man and remind him he owes us money; break windows of that shop, please, because they don't want to pay us for protection; And so on, and so forth. And if you worked hard and followed orders exactly, you had a chance to stay in the family. You are accused of 8 murders, 15 arsons

and excessive love for pasta. You last word? Well, why the fuck they're like that!? And if you're sitting out there being law-abiding and if you're outraged inside how bad it was that some people recruited teenagers and young men and those fools wanted to work out there in return... Oh, silly boys! Nope. You should realize some points. First, it was very profitable to work for the mafia because that was practically the only opportunity for people from ghetto to make their way in life. Second, that was even relatively safe because a member of the family, you got

protection of that family. All the mobsters stood together because their solidarity was their main advantage before everyone else. Third, the mafia had some strict regulations everyone followed. The basic postulates that held the inner laws of the mafia were following. First, all the mafia members had to help each other in blood revenge against an insult or mutilation. Roughly speaking, if someone picked on some member of the group or did something to him, the whole crowd would go for him and bury him to the ground. Second, all the mafia members had to protect and work for the

release of a mafia member who fell into the hands of justice. Counselors, bribery of essential people, racket, anything to get you out of prison! If you're with us. Third, fair revenue distribution from racket, smuggling,robberies and so on. If you risk your life when doing a task, then your risk and your efforts Would be rewarded full-scale, in due time, and with cash. Fourth, they had to keep their secrets under a death threat. No one ratted their own kind. And if someone began to talk, they would be buried very quickly. That's why you could be sure you

wouldn't be ratted out. When you come to the country where no one gives a shit about you; to the country where you could get only a piss-stained hut in some ghetto, in that moment and in that situation, finding a circle of people who would care for you with brotherly love, finding a family that would save you from any ordeal - that's worth a lot. And of course, for those people, You would walk right under bullets yourself, into any mess and fight, without thinking a second. That's why everyone wanted to get to the mafia ranks. Because

that was a real family: a dangerous, high-class, strong family, fair towards you. And many newcomers to the foreign country missed that family a lot. The family guessed very quickly that if they couldn't supply people with alcohol legally, but the demand was really huge, they could take care of it just fine. Those guys were no strangers to being outlaws, and there were many different methods to bring alcohol in. You could import some smuggled goods from other countries by ships; For example, from Europe or Mexico. You could bring it through the land border by cars, from Canada.

Or you could make the booze yourselves at underground factories right on the US territory and spread it throughout the country. Aside of Italian groups, the market included the Irish, the Jews, some American groups. There were just a bunch of guys from different countries who joined to take over the biggest piece of the market if possible. And also, each gang chose their own acceptable way to obtain and to push off the alcohol across the country. And so, the bootlegging began to arise, the criminal alcohol market. Beer, wine and other low-alcohol beverages were of no interest to

the mafia Because they cost lower than whiskey or raw spirits. There was no profit in dealing with low-alcohol booze: it took much space but its price was low. That's why - only strong spirits or raw spirits which were split with some compot directly in bars. You should understand that the most important part of the whole circle of sales of illegal spirits was to deliver smuggled goods to the bar or to some establishment that bought alcohol. It didn't matter where and how you got alcohol - in some other country or you brewed your booze in some

ditch in the woods. The main thing was to deliver goods to the end user. Because only at that moment, you could get your money. The drivers who actually delivered the booze were called runners, and all those guys who selled the illegal alcohol were called bootleggers. There were also moonshiners. They brewed their own stuff. Moonshiners and moonshine - those names appeared because the alcohol was made mostly at nights under the moon shine. The romantic appeal. The most dangerous and important job was done by runners. At first, of course, you should understand that because of the Prohibition,

alcohol was very expensive. Very expensive! And those boys transported either raw spirits or whiskey, And each car could contain goods for several thousands dollars. With modern money, those are dozens or even hundreds of thousands. We don't have normal data but here you have a number to understand the market scale. There was a guy named Charley Luciano, the legend of the criminal world, gangster, mobster, the head of Italian mafia in New York. His gang was one of the first and the largest who realized that alcohol could bring them a fortune. He was an orchestrator of the

Big Seven, a huge gangster organization that sold alcohol. There is the Group of Seven Countries, and there was a Big Seven of alcohol groups. To your liver, you boozers! Those guys dominated over the market of underground alcohol in New York. And for those money, they bought brothels, bars and underground casinos expanding alcohol sales through them. By the time the Prohibition was cancelled, those guys made only off alcohol 20 million dollars a year. With modern money, it's about half a billion dollars. Half a billion bucks you don't have to pay taxes off, you don't have to

report on it to anyone, just cash. Half a billion bucks a year, not for only a year of work but for alcohol. And that was only one gang! In one city! Yes, the biggest one. But there were many gangs out there, and a great fucking lot of money on that market. And the Prohibition existed for 13 years! And now imagine another situation. You're a driver, and there is about 400 litres of alcohol in your trunk that is expensive and needed everywhere. If cops catch you, you go to jail. If you're noticed and caught by competitors

from other group, they'd most likely kill you, and bury in the woods, and take your goods. Yes, your partner is usually always with you, and there's a couple of Thompsons lying about under you seats, just in case. But in such a risky situation, when other mobsters could attack you at any moment, or police could discover you, you must be adamantly certain in two things: In your car and in your driving skill. You have to get out of any kind of trouble, you have to lose any chase, both in the city and on forest trails. And

you car has to endure it. First, you should decide what to drive. Of course, the mafia could afford to buy some sports cars and anything at all. But you could only place a couple of bottles in a sports car. The driver were to sit on one of them, and his partner - on another one. And any car that shows up in the traffic, attracts very much of attention. From that point of view, it was safer to transport alcohol by camel. Plus, if something broke off, You must have a possibility to fix your car in any

ditch. You shouldn't fix anything that breaks off a camel. And so, you need a spacious car that's discreet in the city and very reliable. And for that part, Ford Model T was just perfect. Or just that kind of a truck, Ford Model A. Those were the most popular cars in the traffic, and they were spacious enough to load 300-400 litres of alcohol there. That is why they delivered alcohol exactly in those cars. I love irony in life, you know. It's impossible to imagine what invaluable contribution was given to sales of illegal alcohol by teetaller Henry

Ford with his cars! Also, you should understand that a heavily loaded car became distinctively lower and showed up in the traffic, and it took worse run and was harder to control because of the overweight. And if you need to go away from your chase really hard, a good suspension and a powerful engine would be of good use to you. Technically speaking, the car tuning, broadely defined, was invented by bootleggers. They strengthened shocks and suspensions so that a loaded car could look like a usual car and was better to control. Yes, because of the strengthened suspension,

the loaded car was higher than usual. But when your car is empty, you don't give a shit. No one could charge you. But a fully loaded car must look like a usual car in the traffic at maximum possible rate. Plus, cops chased runners with the same Ford Model T's and Ford Model A's, with 20 horse powers in their engines, more or less. That's why bootleggers bored cylinder blocks, put some added or enlarged carburators out there so that the engine could give as much HP as possible. And those improvements evened up the speed of loaded cars,

if not increased it in comparison with usual empty cars. Also, when you needed to deliver the goods in some horribly heat places, to the downtown, for example, Bootleggers used special cars with hidden trunks installed into them. They lifted the floor level a bit, and made secret holes down there where you could easily put alcohol to. There were many various finesses, and everyone had fun however they could. Any improvement or enhancement of the car repaid very quickly, and moreover, they did the delivery safer for those drivers. And the mafia cherished good drivers very much. Of course,

you couldn't put the first person you meet behind the wheel. Very much depended on the driver, his skill and his cold blood. It's clear that the goods cost very much. But if during some hustle, only some goods from one particular car disappeared, no one would ever worry about it. But any situation when the driver was caught was followed by a bunch of events at once. First, chases and shooting. Of course, no one would give up without a fight. When some cars chase each other across a village or a city and their drivers shoot each other

with Thompsons, that attracts a tiny bit of attention. Of course, the mafia was strong and could deal with anything. But no one needed unwanted attention. Second, it wasn't necessary to attack the car with the goods right away. You could tail after it and find out the route of the delivery. And that was much more interesting than just one car. No one gave a shit about the establishment that sold alcohol. Everyone was aware where you could get a glass. But if you found an underground factory or a warehouse with alcohol, that catch was more interesting, both

for cops and for a rival gang. For the policemen, of course, that was a reason to get promoted or to receive a fucking good bribe. For that bribe, they could proudly put a golden toilet in their homes. And a rival gang could attack the warehouse, shoot everyone, take all the goods and go towards the sunset. Third, if the driver was caught alive, you could fish very much useful information out of him. Yes, of course, mafia laws, we don't rat out - But there was a risk that a tortured man could begin to talk. And no

one could know what will result of it for the organization. Anyway, that was a huge risk. And they had to pull out their men of trouble somehow, too. Either they had to come with arms at the ready, or to bring cases with money to the police. Eitherway, it was no fun. Antonio, if we came here with weapons... What Vito went to the showdown with? Hey, you poor souls! Mr. Salieri says hello to you! That's why mafia chose their drivers with surgical precision. Each man that could be trusted with a car full of goods had to

be devoted to family so much that he could risk his life each day for the common cause. And also he had to be a masterful driver. He had to know by heart all the roads, all by-roads and every ditch in that neighbourhood where he should deliver. Every route decision had to be made momentarily, always. And without a navigator, I must say. If you noticed a tail, you had no time to remember the road. You had to know at once what route to take to shake it, to confuse the chasers, and you had to know where

you needed to go So that they would lose you or someone would protect you in the end. You had to control the car both on the asphalt and on some smashed earth-road, in the woods, in the fields, on some unknown paths and so on. You had to know them that good so that you could drive in the night through the woods with your lights off so that you wouldn't attract attention and so that you had a chance to lose a chase. You had to control your car both in hot weather and in a rain shower,

both on the snow and on the ice. And with you driving a loaded truck and not some sports car, you had to feel your car with your gut and not only to know how to turn or how to rev the engine. And when you became a mafia driver, that was why had to practise constantly and to sharpen your skills. And where would you do that if no speedways or special spaces existed at that time? You would practice in the fields, in the woods, and, of course, on city streets. At any free minute, drivers were racing

anywhere they could. In order to feel the limits of their cars with their finger tips. And, of course, for all the risk those drivers underwent and for their talents, they got pretty go money. Such a salary wouldn't even come in dreams of those people who worked ordinary jobs and lived ordinary lives of common citizens. And that's why working with alcohol delivery For the mafia was a dream for all of those who were crazy about car. You're racing like hell, you're constantly on the edge of a knife, you're always in danger. But if you're an adrenaline

junkie, this would be an ideal spot for you. And they'd give you very much money. When you rush for your destination not for some champaigne drinking from a grand stand on finish, but to survive, you would race a 1000 miles per hour. And there were many crazy people like that. The industry and the market were huge, and underground. That meant you could get both adrenaline and money in spades. You shouldn't forget that if there is some Very interesting and fancy way to have fun or to kill yourself, then men will use it with pleasure, definitely

and mandatory. They stole the plastic, that was great! Guys, I found cyanide! All that mayhem, as we already know, kept going for 13 years, 1920-1933. In 1933, the government finally cancelled the Prohibition. During that time, a great amount of people were killed and gone missing, all of that - chasing alcohol, money and adrenailne. But even more of them survived. a very large amount of drivers appeared During those 13 years, and formed who were used to living each day to the limit. To the limit of their possibilities, to the limit of possibilities of their cars, And

to the limit of common sense. When the Prohibiton was cancelled and alcohol became legal again, then naturally, all that huge mass of drivers with their skills were out of running. Of course, the business didn't go anywhere, and they needed to transport alcohol back and forth, still. But the most important part of work disappeared - adrenaline. You didn't have to race like crazy anymore. No one chased you anymore. You knew exactly that you'd survive this week. And you don't even need to bring automatic weapon to work. Terminal boredom. And as the American society wanted for the

show to go on when alcohol was prohibited, those crazy drivers, all the same, wanted to keep racing at full speed when the law was cancelled. And of course, all of that energy, all that longing for drive and adrenaline couldn't vanish into the thin air. It had to result in something. And thanks to that longing of a huge amount of people to drop the hammer and feel the speed, a new loop of car culture development appeared. That loop was soaked through with engine oil, gas and adrenalin. Chapter 3. The Generation of Car Maniacs. Part I Okay,

here we are, in the first half of 1930s in the US. All the roads in the country were crowded with huge amounts of drivers Who missed the old times and had nothing to do. The Great Depression was raging. That was a huge crisis that dragged the economy of the world to the bottom in the end of 1929; that crisis resulted in total unemployment. And if someone had a job, there was no sign of former fun and money. Yes, that former job had its disadvantages: you could be killed, you could go to jail, your goods could

be stolen. But the payment was good, the job was interesting, and co-workers were live wire. And yet, literally in a couple of years, everything changed drastically. The unemployment in the country was 25%, dollar was falling in price. But a pretty great amount of people had some of their savings left and cars on their hands that they could use for fun. No one could rob you of your need for speed and of your talent in driving a car. And there were thousands of those people on streets. Besides, there were no rules and regulations against racing through

the streets and city roads. In their heads, everyone knew that was dangerous. But the bureaucratic apparatus didn't manage to get its hands on cars, there were no laws. They were a workin progress. And the culture of safe driving wasn't formed as it was yet. Roughly speaking, the same thing happens with motorized scooters nowadays. Everyone knows they shouldn't be ignored and their number grows, And there are special individuals whose religion doesn't allow them to believe in laws of physics. All should be in limits of driving regulations. But the laws must be written, coordinated with a bunch

of civil servants, amendments must me moved, people must be assigned to control it, and other bureaucratic acrimony. And for now, all is left to do for common citizens is to get stunned seeing a scooter flying with 70 km/h on the Moscow Beltway. There was the same picture with cars in 1930s. There was no infrastructure, no racetracks, no speedways; only roads within the city where people were walking. And also, country roads, but racing there wasn't so interesting because you didn't have any audience or rivals at that moment. And of course, every crazy driver trained regularly and

very dramatically on public roads trying to measure whose dick was longer. Also, you should realize that America is a big country. In every region, people went mad in a different way, depending on the landscape and and the car fleet at call. In a couple of hours from California, in the State of Utah, there was a unique act of nature - dried up salt lakes, named salts by the locals. For example, one of those lakes, Bonneville, was 300 square kilometers of perfectly Smooth surface, especially in comparison with roads of that time. Technically, the nature itself took

care of it, you had nothing to build. You had some huge space of perfectly smooth covering where you could go mad car-like as good as you could. Initially, those lakes were used only by the Automobile Association of America, AAA for short. They were setting speed records out there and measuring their dicks in other different ways. The Automobile Association was like a aristocratic club in the car world that was founded in 1902. At that time, only a wealthy and respected person could afford a car. Of course, there were no simple people in that association. And exactly

those guys from AAA were racing and competing in speed across those lakes, organized some local events for members of the organization only, and also they set official speed records. When more people began to buy or make cars and simple guys began to come to those salt lakes to race, AAA didn't think of them seriously in any way. In their world view, any races or speed tests were regarded only if they were organized under the AAA banner. And everything else wasn't the matter of anyone's attention. Simple amateurs weren't allowed to participate in official races or tests.

Only members of AAA could be participants. But you couldn't take the wish to race away from people. That's why when lakes were vacant and no AAA events were organized there, every self-taught went to the salts. No one could forbid that. And those guys gathered. Some with their cars, some with family cars, and some borrowed cars from friends. And they found out who was the fastest. First, only 1-2 persons were racing at the lake. Then, they started to come in groups. And after some time, you could notice a whole car caravan of those who went to

the salts to burn gas in the morning. In order to join that amateur crowd of car users at the lakes, You didn't have to have much money or important connections. You needed only a car and a certain level of madness in your eyes. The mankind never had any problems with madness, that's quite sure. But as the matter of fact, there weren't any problems with cars either at that time. In 1930s, there already was a market of used cars. And the most part of that market was covered, of course, with Ford Model T of very different

variations. Without tires, without doors, without wings, without engine, and so on. You could dig up your car on some junkyard for 4 dollars. If we take modern money, that would be about 100 dollars, i.e. for free. Those guys bought that bunch of iron that was a Ford Model T once, and the fun began. You buy a dump car for free, then you go to another dump to find parts for your treasure, and that costs about nothing for a kilo of parts. People searched for parts through every junkyard in town. You could find absolutely everything out

there: wheels, pistons, engines, transmissions, body parts, anything. You should remember, there was no Internet, there was no specialized literature. You couldn ask someone. Your crowd searched through junkyards, found something like a part for your car, and then you thought where to put that part to. That's too big. That will fall in. Let's try. Technically, guys in 1930s put some giant LEGOs together. They just didn't have a pretty box, catalogued details and an instruction inside. They had only their dump on wheels, and perhaps, even without wheels, a huge junkyard of parts behind the next garage and

that theorhetically could fit somewhere with your metal horse. And no instructions. But the most important part they had, those guys had a great wish to put something out of that shit together that could race and get to the hang of car users on the lakes. Both 100 years ago and now, young boys are very fond of some thingies with a thought that they could build a treasure with their own hands. For all the neighbourhood to be like wow! And when the long-awaited moment arrived, when all the dumps of the city were searched, when the part

set was complete, when you and your comrade spent a bunch of sleepless nights In the garage or in your yard while fitting those to your car so that it could go somewhere at least, you had to go to the salts and put your engineering ideas to the test. You should know that those guys didn't have a task to assemble a Ford Model T from scratch just like it had left a factory once. They didn't care of what it looked like, and even if it looked like a car at all. They didn't care if it was

comfortable inside and if everything could work. The only option was speed, and everything else could go to hell. We love this! M-power! Giant wheels, larger than usual. Stripped wings, lacking roofs, loud pipes, bored out or enlarged carburators, and the most important - a driver smeared in oil from head to toes that was shining behind the wheel of his creation. And that was not a car already. That was a hot rod. Practically, there isn't an exact definition for hot rods till this day. Some say that hot rods were those self-made cars those guys fixed in their

garages. Some took usual serial cars, stripped them naked, put a larger engine and called that creation a hot rod, too. Bookworms and other nerds who like exact definitions still argue what could be called a hot rod or not. But those arguments aren't important for us. For us, the matter is the fact that 1930s gave birth to a new subculture of crazy car users who wanted to gain maximum speeds by putting as little money as possible into that. And all that fuss began with boys who bought the most dead cars from local junkyards for nothing and

turned them with their hands into fireballs That could gain some impossible speeds. If a usual Ford Model T could gain maximum 72 km/h, the hot rod based on the same model could gain up to 160 km/h. Imagine, you assemble in your garage a car from scratch that could race faster and better than all the contemporary production of BMW, Mercedes and Audi. You didn't have the local master do something or order a bigger turbin in the Internet. With your own hands, completely from scratch and without instructions, you assembled your own car. You thought what you have

to put away, or what you have to add, what body part or a mechanism you don't need and what you have to find on the junkyard, to fxi with your own hands with a file in order to make your car faster. And the most important thing, you have it done. And the thing you made yourself goes much faster and better than the production of a giant corporation. You alone, with your oily hands, in your garage or in your yard, you got the better of all the design bureaus and manufacturing lines of a huge company. And

you have a proof that would simply destroy any Ford car on the salt lake. That's a nice feeling. And boys were revelling in it all day long. In 1932, Ford launched the Ford Model A with a V8 for 6.6 litres. And the community of self-taught tuners just went mad. If boys earlier drew with a pencil on margins of a school notebook, now Grandpa Ford brought them a canvas and 8 tubes with paint. With that engine, boys could make some impossible things. Records of 200 km/h, 250 or even 300 km/h were broken easily. In 1930s. With

cars those boys assembled in their garages. Of course, some time after, that dick measuring began to attract public attention. Some people just came to watch those informal races from the audience. Well, little boys and teenagers looked at self-taught racers like at their heroes. And old men came to wonder the miracle of technical progress. In the same time, young guys actively participated in all of that and wanted to find their places in the crazy ranks. It's important to know that weren't just some cars and a bunch of enthusiasts. That was a whole movement. Official communities like

AAA didn't allow self-taughs into their ranks. But hot rodders didn't need that. They were real rock-n-rollers, and underground movement that didn't care for opinions of the public and official organizations. Those guys wanted absolute speed only. And everything else was sent to hell, quietly and without regrets. They liked to go against the system. They were real rioters who knew how to make cars better than all the car companies of Detroit all together. And they had proof - they had their cars and those speeds they gained with their cars. But we remember that the Prohibition, the mafia

and the great amount of bored drivers were all over the country. And dried up lakes of Boneville were the attraction center only in the north-western part of the country because they're situated out there. Other states didn't have such testing areas. But they wanted to go mad. All the country wished for speed, not only the North-West. And so, let's look a little more closely at what happened at that time in other corners of the country. Chapter IV. The Generation of Car Maniacs. Part II If we look at the USA as the country in historical retrospect, we

could notice two poles inside the country: the conventional North and the conventional South. I mean not the division geographically, but the division by people's way of life by culture inside the community and by economy. Roughly speaking, our country has a conventional division by the Urals: everything west from them is the Central, Western Russia, with its way of life. Everything east from them is Siberia and Far East where people live differently. But the difference is that our country is controlled from the center, and regions aren't so hostile to one another. And the States have more shared

governance, and in general, every state is its own master. There is a real opposition inside the country between large regions. Yet again, roughly speaking, the Southern states, like Texas, Florida, Virginia and so on - there is mainly rural population out there, and their economy is mainly agriculture based. And the North of the country thinks the South is populated with hillbillies and cowboys that spent their days herding cows, playing banjos and raping their sisters. There is a special name for that type of people - rednecks. That name symbolizes the red neck that tans along your clothes

if you constantly work your butt off in the South of the country. There are no rednecks in the North because there isn't so much sun and no one stands in the fields their butts up. Anyway, the word "redneck" in American slang is an insulting definition of a typical cornball from the South. The North was quite the opposite. New York, Pennsylvania, Detroit and so on. All of that is only industrial, only capitalistic, only about money, And the air in the north of the country is soaked with possibilities, with wishes to achieve, to gain what's yours and

to succeed. All the industry was situated in the North: all the factories, manufactures and so on. Everyone wears suits and hurries, no one rapes their sisters; fuckery at work is enough. And that opposition wasn't like ours opposition with Far East, like just jokes that out there, they're driving sawed cars with wheels from the glove box, and we here have a constant orgy in garages with German grannies and grandpas. No. There was a real war between those guys in the US. In the late 1800s, there was the Civil War in America that is also known as

War between the States. At that moment, in the end of XIX century, the North was the land of future enterprisers and enterprising people who went to the empty part of the country and built their future world with their own hands. And the South was the progeny of European aristocracy, and the most part of them were rich ground landlords who owned huge plantations with whole settlements of slaves brought from Africa by their ancestors to work in fields for the masters. The North wanted to force heavy taxes across the land For all imported goods in order to

protect its young industry. And the South didn't need those stunts at all. Roughly speaking, the logic was following: if you force heavy taxes on imported goods, they would be expensive for end users because there would be taxes insde prices. Because of that, they would be of low demand, and the local production would be cheap because of lack of taxes inside prices. And that was a good opportunity for developing local industry and local manufactures that were in the North. And in every corner of the South, there's a bunch of its own free shit growing - hay,

grain, tobacco and all of that. The South wanted to trade with everyone without taxes. Plus, only grain doesn't fill the belly, you have to buy a lot of everything else. And no one wanted to pay for that great taxes and fees. Plus, the abolition. The North, being modern and progressive, believed that all the work had to be paid for, all the people were equal, and that was the only way of evolution. And southern economy was built on inefficient but free slave labour. That's why they didn't accept that perspective at all. Imagine: you have a huge

plantation. Cotton grows there, wheat, corn, tobacco and so on. You have several mansions, stables, hunting dogs and a lake with ducks. You only lack Nike shoes. All your needs are supplied by slaves. They cook, clean, look after your children, work on your fields, watch your stables, drive you to social parties and all of that. Everything you must do is walking around your manor looking busy and giving instructions. You don't have to do anything with your hands. They would lace your shoes even if you're completely lazy. They could even do sexual maintenance for you if you're

too lazy. And than people tell you that your property and labor power Are free people with rights, salaries and personal boundaries. Of course, the South answered the North, "Well, fuck, that's a new! That's a great idea, of course. Where's my gun?" The war started in 1861, and it continued for 4 years till 9 May 1865. Just a funny coincidence. No parallels. Don't joke about May 9, don't you dare, motherfucker! The South lost that war. They had to redevelop and align with North. Rich plantation owners were broke, and independent farmers began to appear instead of them.

They leased land from the government and worked on that. A bit later, people began to build railroads, factories and various agricultural manufactures. And the whole region, one way or another, began to live by rules of market economy. Before the Prohibition, there were only two ways to make money in southern states: to lease land for your farm hoping for luck, or to go to work in little towns for little manufactures that couldn't catch up with the industrial North in pace of development. Plus, in 1920s, cars were really wide spread in the South. Their life was very

difficult without them, that's why southern boys and even girls knew how to drive since they were 10-12 years old. That was the same duty as knowing how to harvest, to milk a cow or to work in the field. And helping your sister with laundry. I'm stuck! You're stuck alright! When the Prohibition arrived, many farmers were happy: you could make moonshine and make great money from it. You don't have to change anything in your way of life but money would come. And alcohol was mostly made from grain cultures. That's why a very big amount of underground

factories that produced alchohol was concentrated in the South. The farmers took the crop, made something like whiskey, or just some honest moohshine, and sent it to the nearest big city. They couldn't take it themselves, that was dangerous and very time consuming. They need to produce those goods. That's why farmers hired young guys for transportation. Or they worked with the mafia, and the mobsters looked for runners themselves. But the main thing of the Prohibition was that although it was cancelled in 1933, but it was held in southern States for many yeas. Each state was governed in

its own way. And the decision to cancel the Prohibition in a certain state was made in that state, too. For example, in the Mississippi, it acted to 1966. That's why bootlegging, mad runners on public roads and everything kept on going in the South far longer than in the North. And even if the law was cancelled in some state, people still kept on making homemade alcohol and selling it because everyone already lost the habit of paying taxes and excises. When you did business with moonshine during the Prohibition, you were threatened by two things: the mafia and

jail. After the Prohibition was cancelled, the only thing awating you for that was jail. Great. De-risking of business, guys. Keep going. You should know beside all of that: the density of population in the agricultural South was much lower than in the industrial North. That's why there was much more open spaces to race for all who wanted. As opposed to the North, the South didn't like the government, and so, common people, especially boys, looked at runners as real heroes at the level of the Marvel Universe. As a driver, you're still a skillful rider of the iron

beast of the progress, but at the same time you're an outlaw, you're representing the protest of the southern population Against wretched capitalists who came here a few decades ago and pissed in our chips. Double hero! Teenagers and young guys looked up to runners because they believed them to be real men. In order to become a runner, you needed courage, driver talent and the constant wish to take a risk. And if you didn't have those characteristics to make money off bootlegging, you could at least buy any crooked car by some farmer so you could become just

a bit closer to your hero. Of course, in their spare time, runners were racing among themselves as the northern ones did. Technically, from the car community's point of view, there was the same process going in the South as it was in the North. Official car communities like AAA looked right through amateur races, and people who couldn't imagine their lives without cars and without speed went mad how they could. The only difference between commotion in the North and in the South was horses. No, the southerners didn't tune up horses. Although, perhaps, they put something inside them,

too. But there were very many horses in the South, and that meant there was a shitload of hippodromes where races were organized, bets on best horses, and so on. Entertainments in the field are slim pickings. And you should give your sister a rest sometimes, too. And so guys raced their horses in circles. Of course, as soon as everyone realized that it was much more interesting to watch cars than horses, and drivers found funner to race against one another in circles, everyone rushed to hippodromes to race with their iron horses. People came from around the state

to see races live even if once in their lifetimes. There were neither radios nor TV-sets en masse at that time, and you could see something only with your own eyes. And we should take into account that people of that time could live through their whole life on a farm without seeing Anything in their lifetime, except their cow. When someone heard the news that on some day, on the hippodrome, local drivers would test their speeds, you abandoned your work and your sister, and you definitely rushed to the hippodrome. Plus, you should know that those drivers who

participated in races were local guys known to everyone around because everyone lived on the same street or on nearby farms. Not only everyone knew each other, the audience rooted genuinely for their favorite racers being jealous for them somewhere deep inside. Because the crazy racer who was flying down the ring was absolutely free. He was free from his dusty shack, from money problems, from work, from huge taxes and any other shit. There was only you, your car, the ring and the finish line you had to be first to. And along those rings, free, strong and winning

men were flying. The men who didn't knowthe feeling of fear and who lived on the next street from you. The only thing that differed those pilots from ordinary people was courage and passion in their eyes, and the wish to squeeze the maximum from their cars. That's why people on sidelines saw in racers their heroes. Technically, they really were the new heroes, Heroes of the new generation. And if out there, on the sidelines, you'd ask people next to you who they wanted to be, the answer would be this: "I want to be a racer". Both in

the North and in the South, everything that drove racers was need for speed and the wish to come to the finish line first. With only one difference. Boys in the North were racing in pairs on the straight line across the salt lake, and in the South - in crowds and in circles. In every state, in every remote corner of the country, The motor rumbling began to be heard, the rumbling of the oncoming new era. The era that wound send gas into American veins. The era after which the world wouldn't be the same. Chapter V. Madness

Reaches a New Level. So, we are still in 1930s, when America got the first symptoms of the illness called car racing. In every corner of the counry, here and there, amateurs gathered wanting to know who the fastest was. Of course, this showdown was there for local looky-loos and fascinated people to see. All the racers were either former runners from undeground, Or young guys who saw a lot of their insurgent heroes and wanted to compete with them on the common track. Of course, ring races were much more interesting to the public. For the salt lakes were

far away beyond the city limits, and the members of the audience had to make much more efforts in order to get to races. You had to pack your things, you had to go there, you had to find racers, all of that. And later, you had to drive back to town for several hours again. And there was nothing at the lakes except cars. As opposed to fairs that were organized around those rings. Plus, during the race on the straight, you were crowded at the start line where racers were standing, Then guys in their cars hitted the

gas and raced from you to the finish. And you stood there and looked at the distance. Is that it? Yes. And so, you called me to look at the emission? I think so. Hippodrome sidelines were so much better. You were sitting on the bench, you could see the ring and all that was happening on the course. They brought you a beer, you could drink it and yell together with all the others. Beautiful! And after the end of the race, you could wander across the fair and entertain yourself with something. And so, if somewhere in the

county, there was a hippodrome or a simple ring, the choice was obvious. Plus, such kind of the course was pretty compact and easy to build, and that allowed them to breed in high numbers. And it was more profitable for former hippodromes to readjust for race tracks because car races gathered much larger amount of audience than horse races. Local entertaining people realized quickly they could make money off that hustle If they could organize everything right. If there's an audience, there's money. The business model was about that: you negotiate with the place for organizing the race and

promise them a huge crowd coming that should be fed and watered and everything like that. And the place could make money off it. Then you make arrangements with racers who would participate in races, and you promise them a cash prize for winning. After that, you make at least some advertising campaign in order to simply inform the locals That at some point, in some place, races would start. You name the price for tickets, you sell them; part of the money would go for prizes for racers, and the rest comes either to your pocket, or you put

it into use for new advertising campaigns in order to attract as much people as possible for next races. And in such an easy way, you keep the event, entertain people, pay to racers, and you keep a couple hundred of dollars for yourself. Momentarily, as the history goes, literally after several years, races took an important place in people's lives, Both ring races and straight races for speed. The entrance ticket cost something about 50 cents or 1 dollar, just like that. If we take modern money, it's 10-20 dollars. And regarding the fact that such events could be

visited by a huge crowd of a thousand people, it didn't cause a problem to form a prize fund for winners with coulpe of hundreds dollars. I remind you, you could buy a used Ford Model T for 4 dollars. Or really dig into your pocket and buy an almost fully operational car for 30 dollars. That's why pilots' motivation was built not only on emotions. For one race, you could make your monthly if not a quarterly revenue. For example, a police officer - and that was a pretty respected job in the US - earned in the 1930s

about 120-140 dollars a month. And here, for one Sunday race, you could get a couple of hundreds. But there was a nuance. Nuance called physics. Despite the fact that the ranks of passionate drivers were constantly replenished with young guys who wanted to join the crowd and to race at the end of the tether, those ranks were being even as much depleted because no one cancelled the laws of physics. No one cancelled them ever. Beside scooters on the Moscow Beltway. If you assembled your car from scratch in your garage, without instruction and realizing how the car

design worked, many things could go south in that design. And when something goes south at a speed of 200 km/h on the dried up salt lake, or of 100 km/h in the ring, you won't be happy. You won't be happy ever again. It's pretty hard to feel some emotions when you're smeared up on the surface with an even layer. As a rule, any accident meant death for the test flyer. And if we take into account the fact That the car didn't have elementary seat belts - hello, 1930s! - any accident, roll-over or something like that

launched the driver to fly like a proud eagle. But that flight was almost always the last one. From one hand, that only increased the population's interest to races. Because people really like to watch when someone risks their life and could go to their death at any moment, chasing the victory. From the other hand, the amount of racers was limited. If everyone crashed to death, there would be no racers to race, and that was bad for business. Any appealing to reason, like, Guys, let's be more accurate, please, - was useless. Don't forget, we're dealing with real

adrenaline junkies who, some 5-10 years ago, were racing through forests with Thompsons ablaze. And appealing to reason of those people was completely meaningless. Plus, when any community begins to grow, chances increase that someone of newcomers would be an absoulte peace of shit. Some people didn't feel like going to the salts or to the ring. Some people were actually afraid to compete with best pilots. That's why hot-rodders and self-taught racers sort it out with each other on public roads very often. In their own neighbourhood. They were racing the streets with their hotrods and tuned up cars,

they trained to turn on common crossroads and represented a real threat both for themselves and for common pedestrians. Of course, the public was up in arms. And the authorities were shocked with such entertainment. Papers constantly published horrifying stories how drivers either killed themselves on the roads or killed innocent pedestrians. The police caught those jerks and arrested them in order to give racers a scare somehow and to reduce the amount of dangerous behavior on roads. But all of that hustle had the reverse effect. Madness on the roads only increased. Don't forget, the community of self-taught racers

was a fancy underground movement, and that movement just had to be underground, against authorities and order. They were some real rioters that wanted no rules because rules and limits were not for them but for some chicken. All the racers who saw anyone killing themselves, or killing other people, thought those drivers were just some losers and pussycats who didn't know how to drive. Each one of them thought they wouldn't screw up, they would do it because they knew how, and others didn't and so they could get in trouble. Those pilots thought like that about all the

accidents during races. If anyone killed themselves in the ring or on the straight line, that was not because that entertainment was dangerous and reckless but because that was their fault: they built a bolt bucket or didn't know how to drive. Or both. Each member of the underground thought that horrible things could happen to anyone but not to them. But praised be the intellect! There was one man among racers who realized that races should be safe. And not single-use for pilots, if possible. Meet Wally Parks! One of the members of hot rod movement and a fan

of straight runs. Wally didn't like at all that racers went mad on the roads. And he always rooted for making races more honest and transparent, both for pilots and for the audience. He constantly raced on salt lakes and saw many problems from inside. First, he realized that, instead of clean competition in speed on the straight line, pilots very often set it out between themselves right on the course. The result of the race itself by criteria wasn't so important as showing to some certain pilot that you were better than him. When the two of you were

flying on the straight line, It didn't matter what distance you covered, what speed you gained, no. It only mattered who would let up the gas pedal first. He who would be scared by the feeling he couldn't control anything, he would lose. You should know that technically, no one controlled anything back then: everyone just hitted gas and waited until their rival lifted up their pedal. Go on, faster! Go on, hurry! I'm scared! I'm scared! Hurry, I said! Do it yourself! Okay! Oh, I'm scared! Hit it! Hit it, motherfucker! On those terms, when pilots in every Race

bumped into the limits of their car with a guarantee, and into the limits of their mentality. The lethal accident was a logical consequence. Imagine: you're behind the wheel of a car from 1930s you built yourself in your garage. Comparing to that tin can, UAZ the Loaf is the height of luxury, comfort and controllability. Really. That wild Loaf we're now lookin at just like... Comparing to the cars of that time, that would be a Rolls-Royce. Rolls-Royce! So you're standing at the start line in that tin can with a fricking big engine. And right beside you, in

the same tin can, Another jerk like you is sitting, and now you're gonna find out who would gain more speed, and who's the daddy and who's the loser. Certainly, you would race up to more than 200 km/h. And you're gonna do it across a giant, dried up piece of salt that is very similar to ice like the surface. And if you're gonna jerk your wheel just a bit to the side when you're driving at your maximum, your car would sidle immediately. And as soon as your wheels, going sideways, would bump into some salt stone among

many, many more of them - I remind you, this is a salt fucking lake! - you're gonna roll over at once. About 500 times. You would remember only one of them because you wouldn't live to see the second one. But the car would flex some time without you. There is no punchline in this joke! But there's a great pounded steak punched in that car! You should understand there was no finish line. No speed limit. Regulations didn't exist. And the lake was frigging long. And so, if you and your rival would be crazy enough so that

you won't Lift the gas pedal till the last, the only finale of that race would be a broken car of whoever of you. Wally was one of the pioneers of the whole hotrod hustle. He was born in 1913, and when the Prohibition was relatively cancelled, he was precisely 20 years old. Wally came from a decent family, and when he went to the salt lakes for the first time, he never knew how to drive at all. And he was one of those guys who fell in love from the first sight with the salty desert, rumbling engines,

and speed. And literally a couple years later after he had happened to be on the lake, he was already sitting in the pilot's chair. Thank God, he had more brains than adrenaline. And he realized that something had to be done with all that wreck on the salt lake. He was constantly hanging with racers, he spoke to them about their problems, and he quietly lured them to his side. Like, guys, you know, races must be safe, if anything. Of course, most people sent him to hell, but sometimes, some of the pilots still listened to him. For

several years, Wally had been thinking and gathering pilots' opinions. And as the result, in 1937, he and several like-minded men sat down, made an arrangment, and they founded the Southern California Timing Association. SCTA, for short. Their main task was the right organization of races so that they could be safe for pilots and for audience. The first problem those guys solved was helping the injured pilots. They began to take symbolic money from participants for joining the races so that they could pay the ambulance off that money, and it would be on duty on the lake at

the race day. The Bonneville lake is about 180 km from the nearest big city, Salt Lake City. And if an injured man wouldn't get first medical help right on the spot, the chances he'd survive till he'd get to the city tended to zero. And the ambulance during races was a seemingly simple but very important element for safety of all that hustle. Aside from medical help, guys began to fulfill executive functions: to schedule timetables, to array the order of priorities, to even roads for races, to bring some basic stuff like water and food to the lakes.

And just a little bit, To half-watch out for what was happening. But the main thing was, at some point, they came up with an idea of competition with time. Guys began to measure the time spent by racing on different straight sections. And when the pilot arrived to the end of the stretch, he didn't have a reason to hit the gas any further. He showed the result. Depending on the race venue, those sections were different. Because guys weren't racing across the salt lake only. For races, they used just any Surfaces they could find in the area:

dried up river beds, fields and any other crap when you could gain speed on the straight line. Of course, the salt lakes were the perfect choice but they weren't always free. Because the official AAA made reservations for Bonneville very often, and they could'n be possibly moved from there. Because they were official organizations, you know. But one way or another, when SCTA was born, that was exactly then the main thing happened: the pilots' focus shifted from their personal rivalries to the absolutely impartial time That was impossible to argue with. Parallel with that hustle on the salt

lakes, halfway across the country, in the South, important events also happened. One of the popular places where car users were gathering so that they could race was the sandy Daytona Beach in Florida. Technically, it's a frigging long beach that has a very even landscape by nature. As early as in the beginning of the century, that place was selected by official guys from the AAA. Those who didn't recognize amateur racing. And they set official world records of speed on that beach for many years in a row. In 1906, for the first time in human history, the

pilot named Fred Marriott broke the mark of 200 km/h with the Stanley Rocket steam car. In 1919, on the same place, the pilot named Ralph DePalma with his Packard "905" Special broke the mark of 240 km/h. And in 1927, Henry Segrave took that Sunbeam that had two aeroengines installed inside, and he broke the mark of 320 km/h. Once again. Such a car, two fucking aeroengines inside with the power of 900 HP and 320 km/h - on the fucking sand. Not the asphalted course, not the runway strip, but the local beach where people went to lie

in the sun. And during the races, a plane with mechanics and refillers followed the car so that at the moment when race was over, they could catch up, land, fill the tank, fix the car, and the dude could drive on. On the fucking plane! Catching the car! That drives on the beach! 320 km/h was not the limit of speed shown by those guys. Further on, there was 400 km/h, 420 km/h. As we could understand knowing that fact, the status of official races and of the official organization didn't increase reason in pilots' brains. But still,the AAA

were serious guys, and if pilots began to kill themselves en masse during their races, that would be a massive blow for the image of the company. And plus, being the official organization, they most likely had to deal with some great pains in the ass. And so they decided to leave the beach. And in 1935, they went to the salt lakes. Because that surface was far more suitable for them. But official races as well as amateur ones gathered huge crowds of looky-loos and tourists. Moreover, regarding the fact that Florida was one of the most highly populated

Southern states, very popular for tourists. And as soon as the official guys left the popular place, all the people who were interested in cars left with them. The beach became empty quite soon. But the local authorities quickly decided to organize their own races out there. It was profitable to appeal new people into town: that meant tourist flow, people coming into town, spending their money, all of that. And they planned to earn off that. The authorities saw the point: what do people in our region like, who can tell? Ring race thingies? Okay then, it's decided, we're

gonna make our own course with sand and turns, and organize races with usual, civilian cars. The racers liked the idea, of course, and all the local drivers wished to participate at once. The first race was organized in 1936, that day next year after the AAA had left the beach. And it was just ugly. After a few circles, the course was wrecked. The racers could stuck in sand. There was no exact scheme of count, and the course was built in such a way that anyone who felt like it could come and see the race without any

ticket. They sold tickets, yeah; there were sidelines, but no one could stop you from coming to the beach by foot and watching the race from some little hill. As the result, the city authorities didn't earn any money off the event, they didn't even match the score. They were in the red. They lost on that race 20,000 dollars. Because making the course, building some sidelines and all of that came with a price. Anyway, not much of businessmen those guys were. But something good still came out of that race. That was a racer who came fifth to

the finish line. At that moment, that was an unheard-of mechanic Biil France. His father was a bank clerk, and, of course, he wanted his son to follow his footsteps. But instead, as it usually happens, Bill spent days and nights in a garage with his friends, assembling and reassembling old engines. And as soon as the chance came to race somewhere, he gladly took it at once. Because he thumbed his nose at the job in the bank. And such was the way he appeared among the race participants in Daytona Beach in 1936. The car with number 26

- that's him. When the authorities said they're not gonna organize races anymore, to hell with those shticks, Bill came to their office and said he could help with the organization. They answered him, like, "Look here, there's a beach, do what you want without killing anyone. We won't give you any money because we have none but we won't bother you." And Bill was more than happy with that matter of things. The course was in satisfactory condition, and it didn't demand so much work. One needed to fasten those places where drivers could stuck, Also to tamp down

the whole course, and that was it. The sidelines were already there, only a fence was needed so that people couldn't just come and watch. The matter was solved. But Bill had a problem: he wasn't born in Daytona, he was from Washington. It was pure accident he was on that beach. At some point, he just left his family house with 25 dollars in his pocket and went wherever the road took him. As he came to Daytona Beach, being the race fan, he couldn't help but taking part in the race on the legendary beach That was already

famous at that time, the temple of speed because of all the records. And he had no money, but he had to race. There were no prospects for Bill to suddenly get rich because he worked as a usual refiller on the local gas station in order to make two ends meet. He took another local racer named Sig Haugdahl, and the two of them came to the local beach club and convinced the owner to give them money for the prize fund and operating expenses. They motivated it as if altogether, it would bring much profit. First, the club

was near the course, and a part of guests could be situated there. Second, the tickets had to repay it all, I swear on my mom! And in 1937, in the Labor Day, in September, not in May, another race happened with participation of usual civilian cars once again. The problem was, those guys had only 100 dollars for the prize fund. And they had no money for advertising left at all. That's why very few racers actually came to that race. The run by itself was very well-organized, everything went much better than before. There was even some amount

of audience. But that enterprise still was in the red. Bill's partner in organization, Sig, cried crack and signed away. The beach club that gave money for all of that did exactly the same because no business would want to pour money down the drain. Of course, Bill was desperate. He had no normal job and not much money. He was still a refiller, and his prospects weren't so shiny. He believed that races with usual stock cars could be popular and could bring more money. He saw the audience genuinely rooting on the sidelines, happily watching the event. And

beside that, Bill was racer himself. The only things that exist for a racer are the course and the car, and screw everything else. For a year, he had been visiting all the possible organizations and companies in the city searching for someone who could be interested with another race. As the result, somehow, he managed to find A wealthy restaurant owner in Daytona named Charlie Reese who was also fascinated with cars. And - okay then, he agreed to give him 1000 dollars for the prize fund which could bring a lot of participants for Bill. Finally, the race

was a commercial success. It wasn't enough that they recouped all the money spent for organization and for the prize fund, but Bill also could earn 150 bucks in the end. And off they went. In the next 1939, there were three races, each for 150 miles, i.e. 240 km on the Daytona Beach and Road Course. And in 1940, there were another three races under Bill France. Each race was visited by about 5,000 viewers. The ticket selling process was well organized, and so all that hustle paid off and brought some money. And Daytona Beach became the hot

spot for all people who were crazy about cars, just like the Bonneville salt lake. For each pilot, the main purpose of life was to win the race. Not only because of money but because the first place said, dry and fair, that you were the best. There were people among racers who lived from race to race. After they ended the race in one state, they left the course and went for another race at once. And if you were talented enough and victorious, That was absolutely great because you didn't have to worry about your job. You could

easily live due to races. Each day, you live at breaking point, at the edge of a knife, you race with the best pilots in the country, you win and earn your money off that. A dream come true if you're a petrol head! Besides, the public loves you. And where's public, there are women, don't forget. In the end, your life is fascinating and fun, full of adventures. Every resident the country dreamt about that kind of life. But at that time, when racing community was practically formed; at that moment, when pilots' performances And races were organized on

regular basis; at that moment when the public wanted more and more shows, the event happened that would spoil game for racers for several years. After Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, the USA decided to join the World War II. Chapter VI. The New Reality The World War II is the most horrific crime against humanity ever happened in our history. Millions of dead, countless amounts of twisted and broken human fates and families. There is a huge amount of books and articles written about horrors of that war; Discussions and debates were held and are held now. But the most

important thing the world agrees upon is the fact that something like that mustn't happen anymore at all. War is a nasty fucking business. Don't make it, you know. But for our angle, and for our story, here's the main thing: every young fella who could hold something aside from his dick in his hands was brought to the front line at once. For some reason, people in our country think that the USA almost didn't take part in the war. And yes, regarding the amount of our citizens who didn't come back from the war, You could say thatno

one participated in it, except us. The Soviet Union lost the most people in that conflict, and not one country in the world had such amount of dead like ours. People still argue about how many people one or another country lost. But with the USSR, it's about 26 million people. That's an absolute abysmal record among all the participated countries. With mobilized 34 million, it should be noted. Regarding that blood bath, the losses of the US seem lightly. Just about 420 thousand people. But you can't say that the USA didn't wage war because 16 million of their

people were mobilized to the front line. That's about 12% from the common population Because 130 million people lived in the US back then. We had 34 million people mobilized, and that was 17% of the common population. Because before the war, 196 million peole lived in the USSR. In this light, the numbers look different. For example, the fascist Italy, beaten by everybody, had about the same losses as the US: 480 thousand people. And only 3 million soldiers were mobilized, only 6% of the population. Anyway, it's not right to say that the USdidn't wage the war. Of

course, the first ones who went to the front lines were all the young boys, and then - the older guys. There was no one left to race the tracks, everyone went to war. And people had other things to worry about at that time. Even if someone could gather a couple of grandpas who weren't enlisted and who could set a car in motion, not just themselves, it was barely the case that someone could come and watch them, hot-eyed. But actually, despite the fact that the war fully paralyzed the car community for 4 years, in the end,

the World War II was a very serious drive for evolution of car racing and of the car culture later on. Here's what I mean. If you remember, in the beginning of this video, we said that the World War I pushed forward the US economy very much because the US supplied the Allies with weapons and equipment. The World War II did the same thing. But the most important fact is that, during the World War II, a huge amount of young boys were mobilized for the battle fields; they fought around the world and then, they returned from

battlefields to their home country. They came back to their homes that looked the same as they left them. The cities were intact, nothing was destroyed, everything was okay. Chill out. All the nightmares are gone, nothing changed. Everything would be like before. But nothing will be like before. Nothing changed, yes. Except you. You're in your early 20s. You're full of strength. You're a victor who came home. You take all the credit in the country. The goverment gave you the severance pay that would allow you to live peacefully and to have fun. But all the same, you

were 18 at the moment you saw death. You participated in attacks and raids, you watched your comrades suffer from their wounds. You dragged them away from battles with bullets around. You saw with your own eyes how missiles tear people apart. And every day on the front line, you lived with the thought that today or tonight could be the last day or night for you and you had nothing else to lose. You saw so much grief and so much pain so now you only want to live and to have fun. More than fun. You're used to

danger now, and you need adrenaline. If you could drive fast before the war, now, after all the horrors you saw, your limits of normal push much further away. You just don't give a fuck for all public laws, moral laws, and reason. And if in hypothetical 1920, after 2 years since the World War I, there were about 8 million cars in America and some amount of runners, then in hypothetical 1950, after 5 years since the World War II, there were already 40 million cars on the roads and a huge crowd of men who had seen some

shit in their days. All the issues that people in 1930s drove fast in the cities and that was unsafe - all of that could screw itself in comparison with what was happening after the war. Technically, after the war, on the public roads, American drivers created even more horrible bloodbaths than on the front lines. Each year, the statistics of deaths grew. Since 1945 till 1955, there were more than 360,000 people on the roads. And each year, that number increased. Of course, the public was up in arms. Of course, all the papers were filled with stories about

how dangerous the roads were and what self-taught racers were doing out there. Of course, all that lot of garbage, together with the previous criminal veneer of bootlegging, was smeared on the race arranger in the South, Bill France, and on the arranger of the straight race on the salt lakes, Wally Parks. Of course, as they returned from the war, both Parks and France began to organize races once again, momentarily. And like everyone else, they were horrified with what was happening on the roads and how people were responding to races. Yes, those racing competitions still attracted a

lot of viewers. The audience was growing constantly. But with audience, public outrage was growing, too. People en masse still thought of all racers as of some non-mainstream undergrounds whose only task was to rebel against the society, against morals, laws and reason. The public didn't see in those guys no other sense at all. You should also know that at that moment, all the races really were underground because those guys didn't have any official standing yet. With straight races, it was just the Timing Association. Those were a couple of volunteers without salary. And Bill France didn't have

any legal status at all. He was just a local fixer. Both of them knew that the main task Was to make races safe and regulated. First, that was the only way how they could make solid organizations out of that which would be organizing races on a regular basis, making money off it and being responsible for safety of pilots and of audience. Second, only the official standing could change people's opinion about that hustle. But neither AAA nor the government took them seriously. Hot-rodders had one despicable reputation due to those guys who were racing along city streets

on their cars with every street light. What about races with usual stock cars that Bill France rooted for? The Automobile Association saw no meaning in that enterprise because they thought no one would be interested. Usual cars. What would people look at? Beside the AAA, there was some amount of official organizations in the country after the war. But all of them acted inside their state or inside their city. They couldn't claim to make races all over the country. And Bill wanted scale. He wanted championships on the national level so that pilots from different parts of the

country could easily participate. He wanted the best pilots of the country to race in one ring. And Wally Parks wanted to change people's opinion about hot-rodders. He wanted to explain that not all of them were jerks who were making mess in cities. Mostly, hot-rodder movement was a giant community of people who lived for cars. If you want to put it like that, it was the community of inventors who thought out some new and unique things for the cars and test them not on public roads but on the salt lakes or in the country where they

couldn't be any danger to people. Technically, if we were to explain motivations of our heroes in a few words, Bill France was about business, system and scale because he wanted huge championships, crowded sidelines and shows all over the country. And Wally Parks was about subtle matters, about ideas, culture and public perception. His main task was to make it so that their culture and hot-rodders movement were heard of, understood and accepted. Give us a corner, please, and leave us alone. So we could race out there, and no harm will be done. Of course, because those characters

were radically different, they went absolutely different ways. Bill France knocked on the doors of all possible associations and racing communities. But in the end, he realized that no one suited him, and he needed to create his own organization. He wanted to found an association where they could decide who the national champion were. That's why all the local tournaments and arrangers of those didn't suit him. December 12, 1947, he gathered all the promoters, bright racers and mechanics Bill managed to meet during 10 years he had been racing himself. The meeting happened in the Streamline motel in

Daytona Beach. By joining forces, their main task was to develop a standard set of regulations to hold and popularize races with stock cars. And also, those guys invented a name for themselves. National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing. NASCAR, for short. After 2 months, in February 1948, the association was formally registered. And after another month, the first race under the NASCAR banners was held, In the same Daytona Beach. By the rules, that was the race for 150 miles, and with it, the history of NASCAR's winning streak across the country began. The first race gathered 14,000

visitors, and that was success. In the beginning of 1949, the first full-fledged race of stock cars with the prize fund of 5,000 dollars gathered 33 participants and 14,000 viewers. Altogether, there were 7 full-fledged races of stock cars in 1949, and all of them gathered tens of thousands of viewers, and tens thousands of dolllars to prize funds for participants. In average numbers, 30-50 racers took part in every race, and that view was absolutely insane Because its participants were absolutely stock cars. As they left their factories, so they went into the rings. Those participants were Ford cars,

Linconln, Buick, Chevrolet and so on. The only limit in regulations was - the cars had to be no older than 3 years and to be fully standard. There were prohibitions to strenghthen suspensions, to increase the power of the engine. Just stock cars. And that was magnificent. People on the sidelines realized that the race included the same cars they had or their neighbors had. And they were amazed with what pilots were doing with those usual cars. Plus, you should know that there were very few asphalted rings. They were all unmade, in general. And thas was more

fun because unmade roads were patched, with bumps, holes and other shit. Plus, during the race, wheel tracks appeared they had to notice, too. And during the race, the road conditions for pilots were changing on each circle. And if it was raining, that was just a great fun. The audience didn't ever know what would happen on the next circle, what would happen with the surface, if everything would be alright or someone of pilots would crash on the track and drag the half of all other participants with him. Add to the context another fact: after the war,

there was a real boom of car making in the country. All the war factories that supplied the whole world with equipment and weapons, they were out of work after the end of the war, and they turned to car making. And the most active swath of citizens from economic point of view were people in their 30-40s. They spent the most, they bought the most, and so on. And people in their 30-40s in 1950s were the same little boys who looked at their fathers in 1910-1920s who were the first people in the world who could buy a

Ford Model T and tinkered with it all day long. They were the same boys who looked at bootleggers who raced the roads without fear or reason. The same boys who looked at cars as they were growing. And that is why there was no more fascinating view for those people than cars racing along the track. And they wanted the only thing more than their own car: to be pilots. The NASCAR hit the timing so precisely and hit hearts and souls of people so precisely that the society just exploded. In 1950, only 2 years after its foundation,

there were 396 races a year held over the country. Each day, there were races somewhere, and the whole prize fund was 471,000 dollars. That was an impossible number because if we interpret it with modern money, that would be about 5 billion bucks. Only 2 years after the foundation. Not one sport, not one entertainment for the whole history of mankind exploded the society the way the NASCAR did. And in that moment, the country became really crazy about car racing. Those pilots who won races became stars and playboys for all the country at once. People watched them,

rooted for them, lost voices on the sidelines for them. And it was impossible to stop that genie who already escaped the lamp. Of course, beside the NASCAR, Wally Parks poured oil on flames, too, being the representatvie of hot-rodders. He and his associated wanted to try another tack. As I said, Parks wanted to change people's opinion about hot-rodders because the society only saw them as skull fucked. Practically, they needed only competent PR that could explain motivations and achievements of hot-rodders to an average person. Parks and his companion, Robert Petersen, decided to organize a massive exhibition of

hot rods. And in order to communicate with audience as it should be, they decide to publish their own magazine. Inside hot rodder communities, and with those people who were just interested with the hustle, there was no communication at that moment. Guys with their cars just hung out on parking lots, near some diners with pickup windows like McAuto, or just on the roads. And the public watched them and hoped not to get under their wheels. Wally and Robert borrowed money from all the people they knew, gathered several hundreds of bucks - several thousands dollars in modern

money - and began to prepare the exhibition and the magazine to be published. The main task of both directions was to make common people see not some hideous cars that could race the roads very fast but the people who were passionate about their thing and worked with cars all the day long. And the most important thing, they had to divide in people's minds real hot rodders from reckless self-taught street-fuckers on the city streets. Because in fact, there were a lot more adequate and law-abiding people in the movement. And street racers were, first, outnumbered, and second,

they had nothing to do with the crowd, usually, because they didn't go for races. They were just some usual street douchebags, and hot hodders were in trouble because of them. The first issue was published pretty fast, and the name of the magazine was simple and neat: "Hot Rod". We're writing about hot rods, so here's the "Hot Rod". Robert Petersen was the director of the magazine, and Wally Parks was the chief editor. The first issues were just handed out to those who took part in races, near popular diners and in other meetings. At the same time,

they negotiated with car owners so that they could take part in the exhibition. The guys were surprised but the car owners entertained the suggestion gladly because everyone wanted to show their cars to the public and to tell about it. Don't forget that each car was unique, and each owner, technically, assembled them with their own hands. The guys spent about a year to prepare the exhibition and to publish the magazine. And in 1948, finally, the huge event, on a scale of that time, took place in Salt Lake City. At a rough estimate, the exhibiton was visited

by 10,000 people, and the exactly that amount of magazine copies were sold. The guys cheered. There were tens of different hot rods on that exhibitions. Their owners talked to the public and told about their technical decisions and why they did everything that way and not the other. And people began to realize that those fellas from the hot rodder movement weren't some crazy guys but just enthusiasts who loved their thing and their cars very much. Long story short, the event fulfilled all its tasks with flying colors. Feeling the public interest for the crowd, Wally and Robert

realized they needed to go to the city level, at the very least. And the best option would be the official acknowledgement on the national level. The guys went to struggle through the bureaucratic hell of clearances and other small papers with the city authorities. Practically, they told them, "Guys, let's bring the racing movement to the official mainstream and make this thing legal somehow. We'd write the rules, and everything would be okay. And so, we could provide normal safety and get people accustomed with healthy racing culture. There is no other way." Because while people didn't have any

opportunity and strictly defined places where they could race, they would be risking their lives and other people lives on the city streets just because. Just because ants in their pants. And taboos and persecutions on the roads wouldn't work until that place where they could run appeared. The authorities made excuses and shirked till the last because they thought that speed racing couldn't be safe in general, even if everything would be organized the right way. In the end, the guys said, "Okay, we're gonna ride with you, you're gonna see and realize for yourselves if it's safe." They

took all the local officials, went to the salt lakes and made them the hell of a ride. Of course, those people were blown away but they realized that races could be safe. And that worked. And the guys did receive their approval of the official organization of events and races. And so, in 1949, under SCTA banners, there was the first Salt Speed Week on the Bonneville lake that gathered several thousands of visitors and hundreds of pilots with their cars in one place. Some people went to the lakes for the whole week and stayed put watching the

races and communicating with pilots. Some people came only for a couple of days, for main competitions. But one way or another, the Salt Speed Week was the first, grand, official event that was held under SCTA banners and that gathered in one place tens of thousands of viewers, pilots, engineers and enthusiasts of the hot rod movement. And the first event where people were officially competing in the art of taming the most difficult and impartial phenomenon of the human life - time. And you could think of that event as the point when the new car madness was

born into the world officially. Drag racing. The verb "to drag" means "to pull" or "to crawl". It doesn't exactly fit for the name of the sport where pilots race with some insane speeds. But the thing is that the verb "to drag" on the pilot slang of that time meant the fast speed change in overdrive. And that was exactly the point of drag racing. Because the precision of your changing speeds and your timing while you're doing it will define your acceleration. And when two cars, similar in power, are standing on the start line and compete with

each other, the change of speed in the right moment and for a very short time is the only thing that could help you win. The second theory about origins of the name "drag racing" comes from the popular call of racers of that time. Drag your car out of garage and race me. Come on, show me what you've got. After the Salt Week, neither the arrangers or the authorities had any questions that they should bring races to the official field. Because during that week - lo and behold! - no one got killed. Just sheer fun, a

festival for car users, and the tourist flow for the city. To 1951, the Hot Rod magazine Wally Parks was making became iconic. It contained all the information and results of all important races. It contained reviews of champion cars and their technical decisions. And new edititions were bought from the shelves of the shop during the first 24 hours. But despite that success of the edition, Wally Parks left the magazine in 1951 in order to devote himself fully to the race organization. He took several associates with him, and in the same year, he founded NHRA - the

National Hot Rod Association. Its slogan was to create order from chaos. The main task Parks had in mind before him was reducing All the drag racing runs of the country to unified procedures, order and safety organization. And safety was the main priority. Even in the middle of the NHRA logo, it says "Dedicated to Safety". And since Wally was already a very famous person among drag racers, all the pilots gladly participated in every race under NHRA banners. Because they knew that those events were held by professionals who cared about pilots. Parks began to visit the nearby

states, and then to drive all over the country talking to public authorities and representatives of local car clubs and sharing his experience with them in organizing of safe races. He didn't much care about money he could make off that show But about the safety of pilots during races. At some point, Wally noticed the community of similar wacky fellas who selected the empty airfield Santa Anna in Southern California. Their head was C.J. Hart aka Pappy. I.e. Daddy. C.J. was called Pappy because he was a real father of local drag racing movement. He made an arrangement with

supervisors of the local empty airport so that they would lend their runway strip and give them a share of sold tickets and membership fees of participants as commission fees, and the airport pretty quickly became a magnet for the public, including Wally Parks who noticed them. The difference in C.J.'s appoach was racing not through the whole length of the runway But only for 1/4 mile. 402 metres. Before cars, C.J. fell in love with horses. And for a long time, there was a spring for 402 metres in horse racing, and he took it from there. Wally very

liked the idea of limited distance because it was safe. And he like the idea of using empty airfields for drag racing. Because there was a bunch of them all over the country. Besides, airfields were located near cities, and were always connected to them with asphalted roads, and so the audience could easily reach them. Wally convinced C.J. to join NHRA and to work together over regulations and safety of races. The strategy of working with local car clubs and taking them under the wing was super successful. During the first year after the NHRA appeared, 25,000 hot rodders

joined it, and after another year, there were 57,000 of those guys all over the country. They were ready to pay membership fees in order to race along the regulated, specially prepared course, and also to go after prize funds, organized by the NHRA as well. The audience came to races in crowds, because there was really something to look at there. Hot rods from 1950s weren't already like a stripped Ford Model T. Those were real monsters of the industrial age. Giant open engines, giant back wheels that provided the needed bite. The pilot was sitting practically on those

back wheels. And the long nose that was tearing the air and reducing the frontal drag. Technically, that was a giant, loud, fire breathing monster that fully obeyed its crazy pilot. And that couple together fought one opponent - time during which they could fly over 402 metres. The phrase "iron monster" is not a mere rhetoric. If you put together the words "monster" and "to drag", you'd have the term that defines those cars. The dragster. Beside dragsters, hot rods were racing in drag racing, of course, and to that time, they were also like a distinct work of

art. Self-made tear-drop bodies, open wheels, giant engines and all the same reckless speed. And crazy pilots who were prepared to risk in order to beat time. The sidelines of official races creaked at the seams because huge crowds wanted to see how those iron monsters with their drivers laid claim to breaking the laws of physics. Drag racing, as well as the NASCAR, gathered on its sidelines tens of thousands of viewers, fans and all the people who were crazy about cars and speed. In each state, on every testing ground, ring and abandoned airfield, engines were roaring, audience

were roaring, and fates of winners and losers were being decided. All the country was rooting. The country was rooting on sidelines, on racing tracks and in their own homes, Because drag racing and the NASCAR hijacked the main TV translations at once. Races were filmed live with helicopters, they were filmed directly from courses and sidelines. The best hosts of the country commented all that action, and winning pilots momentarily turned to stars and favorites of the country. Here are several facts and sequences so that you could realize the scale of what was happening. To 1960, every free

airfield was filled with roaring engines of cars who were competing in drag racing. Each race gathered 30-40 thousands of viewers depending of how many those sidelines could possibly hold. If 30,000 - that meant 30,000. If 40,000 - that meant 40,000. No matter the size of the sidelines, there were piled with audience. Concurrently, the NASCAR races were held every week without exceptions. The racing calendar included 396 races a year, and that meant those races were held each week in several corners ouf the country at once, and those sidelines were piled with people in the same way.

For example, among the bunch of cities with their own rings where races were held, there was a little town called Wilkesboro with only 40,000 members of population. And for the day of races, 70,000 people came to town, and it just came to a halt because of the amount of fans. Its streets couldn't physically process such amount of people. In the late 1940s, in average, the NASCAR gathered 14,000-15,000 people for one race, and in the middle 1950s, it was 30,000-35,000 people in average. In 1960s, 80,000-90,000 people came to the racing championship. Like our Luzhniki Complex, the

hugest stadion in the country, but 396 times a year. Those scale was just impossible. And there wasn't only the NASCAR. Another popular championship, Indycar, where cars with open wheels were racing - it could also gather 100,000 people for the main runs. And as the television developed its technologies so that it could televise live, The audience of races just exploded to millions of people. The final races of the season and other important runs were watched by 10 millions of people with live broadcasts. Not one sport before the NASCAR gathered such an immense audience. And not once

in a year but every week. Month after month, year after year. Technically, by that moment, you could already establish that the patient was to sent to the mental institution without questions. The country officially went mad about cars. And no one was against it. Just the opposite, every day, even more people happily plunged into the constant And infinite celebration of gas, sound of engines and speed. But despite completely crowded, giant stadiums, impossible prize funds and spiraling ratings of live broadcasts, there were some guests lacking on that celebration. I would name them the main guests. As weird

as it would sound, the most obvious and logical participants of that hustle didn't attend the celebration. And everyone wanted them, everyone waited when car companies would break in to all that hustle. Chapter VII. The Voice of the New Generation I should say that the policies of USA car conglomerates after the World War II was quite interesting. They were following: We produce what we produce; you will buy it anyway because you have no other choice; and we won't change anything. Technically, all the cars that were produced in 1940s and in the early 1950s weren't quite different

from cars before the war from the point of technology. Yes, they were bigger, and there was more chrome, but engines, suspensions and the whole car construction was practically the same as before. Technically, all the car companies already were some massive giants, the largest car companies in the world. And their respond to some changes in the market was very weak, be it Ford, GM, or Chrysler. Every of them were just making such cars that were profitable for them, and they didn't pay any attention what the market globally demanded from them. Any innovation in cars resulted in

putting an engine that was bigger than the previous one, putting longer wings, and adding a couple of chromatized elements. That's it, another bestseller for 5-7 years was ready. From the other hand, those guys were hard to fault because - people bought cars, didn't they? Yes. Companies made money, didn't they? They did. That was all. What else? To spend some huge money for developing of some new model just for the sake of art? Who needs that? If any corporations just threw money away for any reason, it would be broke, momentarily. Plus, you should know that the

main productive might and their capitals were earn by each company during the war. Ford was making war aircrafts, tanks, cargo trucks, light war machines, and all the parts for them, engines included. Chrysler was the main supporter of tanks for US troops and for the Allies. And GM produced similar shit for war industry for 12 billion dollars. 12 billion dollars in the middle of the XX century are fucking gazillions if we turn it to the modern course. Technically, successful producing of some things for war Industry that had been buying everything that was not nailed down, didn't

take much wits to. Yes, your factories had to be tuned up perfectly. The assembly line had to work 24/7 without failures and delays. And building the bunch of manufactures that would work like Swiss clock is very hard. I don't lessen the services of management and all the employees who worked at the factories during the war time, at all. But such a situation where you just work with government contracts and they buy everything you could produce at all, it deprives you of a very important element. You don't have a competitive market, only a market outlet. You

don't have to do any ads. You don't have to feel the market and people's preferences. You just need to produce, that's all. And of course, all the members of top staff that had been steering companies through the war, it was left on their places because they did their jobs: they earned money for companies. And after the end of the war, those companies acted just in the same way as during the war. They just produced something and didn't care enough how much it tuned in to the spirit of times, how much it fitted with people's preferences,

and so on. And all the car giants came up to 1950s With the whole bunch of old geezers in the boards who were okay with everything. They had their sales, they had their money. That's alright, here's your bonus. That's why, during 20 years when the motor racing was forming, those companies didn't do anything. They just didn't notice that people were racing with their cars, that their cars were used for hot rods by finishing them off, and so on. Well, those guys were just having fun, what else? We are some serious business. We don't do anything

stupid here. Plus, you should add something to that picture. During the post-war period, literally after 10 years, the real income of the US population increased for 25%. To 1960, 60% Americans had their own homes. Without mortgage, without loans, non-state - but their own. And 77% Americans had TV-sets at that time. While it was an element of luxury in other countries. At that time, in the late 1950s - in the early 1960s, there were only 6% of the whole population of the planet living in the USA. And those 6% where producing and consuming 66% of all

the goods produced in the whole world. People had money. And the most important thing was they were ready to spend it. Moreover, they wanted to spend it because they earned it with honest labor. And the final element of the picture: because the level of revenue was increased, and because the American family was the biggest value at that time, people left cities en masse. 70% Americans lived in the country. They bought country houses and built their life around the family. And in that scheme of things, when you have money and you live in the country but

you work in the big city, you need a car anyway. That's why it was so simple to sell cars. You just needed to produce anything, and there were very high chances that people would buy it. Without any serious efforts from your side. The first 5 years after the war, lines were building up for new cars. The demand was 4 times higher than before the war, and you could buy a new car for 1-2 thousand dollars at that time. That was very rational for any average American family in 1950s. That was the reason why old geezers

in boards didn't change their productive and marketing policies. Everything was happening by itself, numbers were growing. They couldn't not to because the market was growing. Management got their bonuses and didn't care. The fact that all the country was going mad about motor racing, and the car was something more for the average person that just a set of metalware, It wasn't of any interest for grandpas. Thank balls, you can't get away from succession of generations. And as we already know, in 1950s, on every course in the country, the same men were racing and yelling on the

sidelines who were boys in 1920s and who looked at their crazy heroes on the roads at that time. Inside the car companies, you could notice in the same way some young men with a different way of looking at things, at cars, who understood on their own what was it like, to go mad about cars. Step by step, the voice of those young people became distinctive in management. Technically, the car show was ruled by the big American Three at that time: Ford, General Motors and Chrysler. In each of those companies, New people appeared gradually who thought

in a whole different way. One of those guys was called John. In 1949, he worked at the construction department in Chrysler. John was a typical representative of the new, fierce generation. He was born in 1925, in Detroit, in the family of Romanian immigrants who fled the war, like Italians, to the country where they had peace and prospects. His father, being an immigrant without education, worked as a simple mechanic on the Ford factory. But despite the humble wage, his parents could save some money so that John could get some good education. His parents wanted for John

to become a musician, a writer, or some creative person. But little Johnny never ever had any chance to fall in love with music or some kind of art. The only music that could be of interest to the boy was the sound of engine. Yet again, imagine: you're a small kid who was born in the industrial heart of the world. There are car factories all around; your city produces cars for the whole country, and crazy bootleggers race along your roads, and after them - hot rodders and street racers. The amount of bootleggers in Detroit was one

of the biggest in the country. It was not enough for Detroit to be on the border with Canada; it was also the seaport. Technically, during the Prohibition, Detroit was the country gate to hangover. Your father works at the car factory. All parents of all your friends work at car factories all the same - or at factories that produce utilities for cars. Your whole city is a giant industrial mechanism that produces cars. And you were born to that hustle and you're growing out there. What will you have in your heads? Cars, of course. You will be

crazy about them to the backbone. And when you're 14, your parents come to you: "Violin, Johnny, take it! We believe you'll be a fucking great violinist, Johnny! Those guys in the backstreet are playing nights, fucking beautiful, Johnny! Our soul hurts, Johnny!" Thank God, his parents with their offer went to hell quickly, and the boy applied to the Institute of Technology. During his studies, he served his time on the front, and after the war, he was invited to work in Chrysler to finish his education in the car field and get some practice. In 1950, Johnny was

25, and of course, as his whole generation, he was crazy about cars. Of course, he yelled on the sidelines of NASCAR with his friends. Of course, he went to see those giant monsters that were racing along runways. And of course, he realized that the car makers' approach had to be changed. While working on Chrysler, Johnny managed to do his masters in car construction and his masters in car management, both of them in 1952. And he received fiery congratulations from the Packard company. Packard was such a producer of premium cars of that time. They offered him

a spot in their construction division with higher salary. Johnny left Chrysler quckly, but as quickly as that, he realized that Packard's time was short. The early 1950s, beside the madness of motor racing, are remarkable because car sales began to drop suddenly. The pent-up demand that was cumulating in the country during the war ran its steam completely after 5 years. Roughly speaking, the situation was similar to ours with lockdown. Everyone was shut down, no one was allowed to buy anything, and demand was cumulating. After 2-3 months, dealers opened their sales and got a huge crowd of

buyers who swept anything they could because the pent-up demand had to be realized. But in our case, the lockdown went on a couple of months, and the US hadn't produced cars for civilian needs for 4 years. And so, they had been realizing the higher demand and the pent-up demand for 5 years. But in 1950s, the demand finally fell, and Packard was the first company that couldn't handle all of that and died. We told you about it in our video about Detroit. Johnny guessed very quickly that things got tricky and began to smell markets searching for

new offers. I should say, during that short time he worked in Packard, only four years, John managed to create the 1955 Packard Caribbean that was very different from the whole Packard vehicle line of that time. Here's for you to compare, the typical Packard That was popularly called a "bathtub". And here's the car Johnny made looked like. The work of the young designer was noticed in GM. And because GM knew that Packard's time was short, they offered Johnny the place in their design offices. And thus, Johnny was made an offer that was very hard to refuse.

Those guys came to him and said, "Look here, we have helluva lot of brands, and each brand has its own design offices. And so, you could chose any brand, any bureau, and we're ready to give you some leading position in design." Of course, Johnny agreed without another word. He chose Pontiac; he said that brand produced cars for old maids. Johnny chose that brand because he saw many things out there he could improve. Pontiac from 1950s really had a reputation of a very strange brand inside General Motors that produced completely boring and rummagy cars that were

lost contrasted their competitors. A steady, sure, average performer that wasn't needed in the era of the raging 1950s because everyone wanted a bright high-status car. In truth, there was no better candidate for the role of a man who could make a silk purse out of a sow's ear than Johnny. Johnny didn't recognize corporate culture, formal suits and official language. He was a hunk and a wild child in a very real sense. He constantly wore bright shirts, stylish suits, he laughed a lot, shined and enjoyed life in all of its aspects. He was constantly seen at

any and all parties with crowds of women. And of course, he drove only stylish cars. And such a person came to Pontiac in 1956. His first creation was the 1959 Pontiac Star Chief. You definitely saw that sihouette and that body if you played GTA San Andreas or watched American movies from 1960s. The car fricking stood out against the whole vehicle line of Pontiac of that time. The longest back wings, the elongated and pinned down silhouette instead of a standard swollen barrel that was a usual Pontiac car. Plus, the Star Chief had a version with an

open top, and that was just oof. When Johnny brought his first sketches to the meeting with the top staff, they said they'd never allow it. Too radical car for their brand. Actually, GM was a very conservative company that was very cautious about any changes. And honestly, I don't know what Johnny had to do to convince the company executives to align with that project because it looked really crazy against all the rest of their cars. But Johnny personified the voice of the era. He was sure that public would love such a stylish car. No other options.

And even despite Pontiac's reputation that it was a brand for old maids. Perhaps, they didn't care about Pontiac so much because it lost in sales every year; and so the top staff decided to take a chance. John's every argument was heard. And for a reason. The car saw the light in 1959, and people lined up to buy it immediately. And in 1962, the sales of Pontiac's brand were almost thrice as high than in 1958, when Johnny came to the company. The Pontiac Star Chief was the first precedent when a car maker in America of 1950s

hit the needs of the society. And that was a pure credit to Johnny. While Johnny was working in GM, another young manager in Ford thrived on his career, too. That young manager was called Lido. Don't be surprised, that was his actual name, Lido. As well as Johnny, he was from a family of immigrants. But his parents were Italians. His father worked hard and diligently, and when Lido grew up, his father already had his small restaurant network. What other business could be held by an Italian, really? Lido received his education in the Institute of Technology, design

specialty, and he came to Ford in 1946 as a junior engineer. But at once, momentarily, since his first days, he realized that he didn't fancy sitting over draft boards and drawing some shit, some springs for some mechanisms, at all. For a couple of weeks, he drew some doodles still, But then he came to his seniors and said, "Take me away from here, please. I want to work for you very much, I love Ford with all my heart. But without drawing, please." People without specialized education were allowed only to go to sales. Why not? You don't

have to use your head to sell something! They thought that in Ford, supposedly, and that policy was the very reason they sucked GM's dick in sales completely. Technically, at the cusp of 1940s and 1950s, despite the super successful war period, Ford experienced its biggest crisis. Henry Ford, the one and only, died in 1947. And his son, Edsel Ford, who was being prepared By Henry for his whole life to take over the leadership of the company died from cancer 4 years before his father, in 1943. And so, the leadership of the company fell onto shoulders of

Henry Ford II, the grandson of the original Henry Ford. And he didn't count and didn't want to take over the control over the huge industrial giant in his 28. Henry II realized that such a post and such responsibility would eat his youth down to the ground because nothing would be left in his life except work. One way or another, Ford's crisis happened not because Henry II was at the helm but because of big complex problems. The financial model creaked at the seams. The sales were organized like shit. And practically all production was pre-war. Plus, all

the Americal population associated the Ford brand with only one car - Ford Model T. To 1950s, it turned from being the greatest miracle of progress to an ancient rusty waggon, and buyers associated the whole brand with it. That's why Ford couldn't handle any possible competition as a manufacturer. Just about that kind of circumstances was in the company at the moment when Lido asked to go to the sales. He was sent to some regional Hicksville, to Philadelphia division where he worked as a phone boy with clients. You should know that the brand had only one client

it sold its cars to: dealers. And Lido's responsibilities included Communicating with local dealers and load cars for them. He was handling that beautifully. He plunged into sales, really. He studied all the cooperation of dealers with the company, and the cooperation of dealers with common people. Every day, he thought of what could be improved, and he consulted local dealers about the vehicle line so that he could offer the most profitable set and amount of models to them. After 4 years of work, to 1953, due to his highly effective work and always showing good results, he received

the post of a regional sales manager in Philadelphia. That being said, he was in charge of every single sale in the region. And in that moment, the demand fell all over the country. And the salesmanship of average salesmen and dealers came forward. If you'd produce the most magnificent cars in the world but some morons would work with final users, instead of normal dealers, you would never sell anything to anyone. Lido knew that. He developed his own program of education for all the dealers and began to visit all the dealerships teaching the local staff. Another 2

years later, he invented a new program of car selling, and not one competitor had anything compatible with it. He called this program "56 for 56", pushed it through the financial division and implemented it in Philadelphia. The point of the program was very simple. As a buyer, you could come to the Ford dealership and buy a new 1956 car for 20% of its cost, and then, in the course of 3 years, you had to pay 56 dollars a month for it. Technically, Lido invented auto lending. If we count in the modern world, how much the client

had to pay for the car eventually, you would go mad with that loan rate. But at that time, no one had anything like it. And the program burst the sales in Philadelphia. People from nearest states came to Philadelphia in order to buy a car, to make it to that offer because it was limited with only one year. And technically, during that year and that program, 75,000 cars were sold in one state only. And every sold car within that program was the personal success of the young manager. The board couldn't help but notice such a sales

growth, and 3 years later, in 1959, Lido received the title of the CMO of the whole company. And that was exactly the same year, when Johnny launched his Star Chief in GM. By the way, Lido was the full name of the young genius of sales in Ford. But he always asked to call him just Lee. And his family name was Iacocca. And Johnny, that hunk and rioter, proudly paraded in offices of General Motors with his family name, DeLorean. Both of them were children of the era when the USA discovered cars. Both ot them were car

fans, both of them grew up watching the car movement through all of their lives. The only difference was that DeLorean wanted to make the most coolest cars for the sake of the art in order to show everybody, like, look what magnificent car we made! And Lee Iacocca wanted to make cars for people based on their needs and preferences. Being 14 years in sales department, Iacocca was convinced everyday that the wish of the client came first and they needed to build on that. And DeLorean, a rioter by his nature, Was always certain that he knew best

what market needed 'cause he was the voice of the era, its own representative, and he knew in his guts what was right and what was wrong. After his success with Pontiac Star Chief, DeLorean began on another idea. He was sure that market needed a car that would be stylish, daring, and not so very expensive. And the most important - damn fast. When cheerful Johnny ran to the board with such a magnificent idea, he was snubbed, as usual. Pontiac had a very simple policy in its vehicle line: the more power and volume the engine had, the

more expensive the car was. By that logic, DeLorean had to chose, either he would make An unexpensive car, or he would make a powerful car, that was easy. And you shouldn't forget, GM was Pontiac's boss, and they didn't allow the brand to put engines with more than 5 litres at all, because in that case, they would be competitive with other brands of the corporation. Not on your life! But DeLorean stood his ground. He was certain that the idea would work only under condition of giving people a powerful, fast and relatively unexpensive car, all at once.

The board of the brand was in doubts. From one hand, they didn't want to disregard the rules of the company, But they didn't want to give the potentially profitable idea to other brands. Seeing that uncertainty, DeLorean offered the following scheme: "Let's make our car with two trim versions. The basic trim would be with our usual engine, and the special hot version would be with the right, normal, large engine. And if GM would want to screw you over that - and that's what they'd do - you'd show them the usual car and say that you counted

on selling just that version. And only that. And the special version was for a couple of fans, ignore it." And the board took a chance. They said, what the heck. It wasn't enough that DeLorean was greenlighted, They also confirmed with all of his ideas beforehand. "Do what you want, we're fucked because of you anyway." Johnny decided in his head all by himself that the car had to be a low, huge sporty coupe. And the engine had to be exactly 6.6 litres, and, of course, V8 for 350+ HP that could gain speed up till 100 km/h

on the level of Italian sportcars. The main things were style, a huge motor, maximum power and some even remotely reasonable price. When DeLorean showed his work to the board, they said, "Fuck, that's beautiful, honestly, Johnny, we are fucked! What 6.6 litres in Pontiac? In Pontiac, Johnny, you should have mastered the violin!" But DeLorean calmed everybody down because the car would cost 3,500 dollars in the end, and that price was very similar to Pontiac's. 3,500 dollars at that time were something like 31,000 dollars today. With our money, it's 2,2 million rubles. You can't buy an Octavia

on steroids for that money. And that was a huge sportcar with V8 and crazy dynamic for that time. DeLorean was sure that the country that went mad about motor racing desperately needed such a car. It needed an unexpensive sportcar for people. And he was right. Year 1964 was the birth year of the magnificent Pontiac GTO that exploded dealership centers. Originally, Pontiac GTO was just a trim version of the usual stock car, Pontiac Tempest. There it is. And DeLorean suggested doing exactly that thing. The board of the brand thought of limiting the issue with 5,000 cars

so that they could avoid questions from the GM board with a guarantee. But the market decided otherwise. The trim version appeared in the end of 1964, and it was sold momentarily with the issue of 32,000 cars. And the next year, 1965, people bought up 80,000 GTO cars. That given 180,000 cars of the Tempest model were built that year. That is, 45% of all the sold vehicles fell upon the improved trim version only. DeLorean hit the bullseye. The giant V8 in a cheap car that could accelerate the car up till 100 km/h for 4.8 seconds -

in 1960s. Ferrari Daytona that appeared about the same time gained that 100 km/h for 5.5 seconds. Yes, Ferrari had its own thing. Yes, V12. Yes, we shouldn't compare like that. But any supecar, both Ferrari and Lamborghini of that time, cost about 20,000 dollars. And Pontiac GTO cost 3,500 dollars, and it was even more powerful in the end than those supercars. Even though Pontiac didn't understand how it should Advertise that product, GTO was bought up with issues about 100,000 cars each year. Without normal ads and promotion. Since Pontiac was generally the brand for women, they promoted

GTO as a nice, comfortable and convenient car. You have V8 for 300+ HP and 4.8 up till 100 km/h, but that's bullshit, our dear ladies. You should see how soft it is, how smooth the wheel goes, and so on. And promotional content for dealers said that the main GTO's difference from all the other models was the hood ornament. And allegedly, their bodies differed only by gauge, and that was it. That was a bit longer, that was a bit shorter, that's all, Jesus. No differences, no worries. Later, those guys seemed to talk to their not because

of the soft back seats, and they began to invent such videos. Here's a tiger, here's your car; the tiger jumps under the hood, and together, it's the new GTO with a real tiger under the hood. Despite that cringe in the ads, that didn't stop the car from being iconic at once. During the second half of 1960s, every 5.5 minutes, one GTO was sold somewhere in the country. Every 5.5 minutes! Those cars were more often bought by common people so that they could have a taste Of a sportcar for small amount of money. They bought those

cars to compete along the straight track. They bought those cars to race in the ring. Those cars were bought and wanted by the people with passion for cars, and at that moment, all the country was crazy about those cars. And thanks to that model, Pontiac became the most profitable brand inside GM in 1960s. Technically, Pontiac GTO was the first musle car in the history of car making. Everything began with it. However, nobody called it muscle car at that time. That term was invented much later, about 1980-1990s. But one way or another, GTO was the legendary

and crazy car of the era That was born thanks to the no less crazy and brilliant John DeLorean. And that success and that furore that car sparked all over the country confirmed that. But I had a reason to talk to you about Lee Iacocca for half an hour. Literally, several months after GTO was launched, there was a car born Lee Iacocca had been working for a couple of years on. Only Iacocca didn't begin with schematics like DeLorean, but he made some prework before plunging into development. Lee Iacocca assembled a group of specialists and began to

ponder over the new market model. He knew that he needed to create such a model that would pull the company from the bottom. Otherwise, it would collapse. First, he ordered a big marketing study so that they could expose the present state of the market and people's needs. The study showed the middle age of the buyer was lowering. Children who were born after the World War II were about to become full members of the market. Plus, the amount of educated people was growing, and the study showed that educated people were buying more expensive car models, generally.

Also, the study showed that NASCAR and drug racing aroused interest by older people and influenced their decisions to buy cars. They paid more and more attention to fancy and powerful cars. Plus, the second car in the family wasn't something special already. And so, the wife generally had something practical and comfortable in order to drive children to school, to shopping, to grocery stores. And the husband was looking to buy something more sporty, with plenty of zing, and less practical. After piling that together, Lee realized what that car had to be like. He drew in his mind

that had to be something dynamic, with four seats, so that you could drive your friends or family. And plus, something light and unexpensive so that yesterday's school boy could afford it, Or the head of the family as his own toy. And after gathering all that information, he locked himself in design bureaus together with engineers and designers. They drew, projected and tried to come up with the way to put down all the preferences to some cheap car construction. The most problematic thing was the design. In general, Ford had very big problems with design at that time.

That's why Iacocca used each and every designers of the corporation. He personally accepted every detail in the car: lines of the body, design of dash and rear-view mirrors and so on. He thought that the construction of the car The fate of the company depended upon couldn't have any insignificant details. When the first version of the future car were ready, Lee began to gather focus-groups in order to understand if they were moving in the right direction. And all the people who were shown the car to told him that they couldn't afford something like that. They liked

everything, but judging by its appearance and characteristics, it had to cost about 4,000 dollars. They doubted if they could give so much money for a Ford. And that was the ideal answer from people for Iacocca. Because he knew that the ultimate price of the car would be 2,500 dollars. And with such a set of characteristics and such a price, That just had to blow the market. The only problem was with the name. There was a special person in the development department whose job was finding names for car models. The working title of the project was

Ford Torino in honor of the Italian resort. But while the development was running, Henry Ford II, the married man, began a fling with an Italian woman. It would be creepy if the press was on to that and made a parallel, like, Ford named his car as a gift to his lover. And that's why Iacocca decided to change the name for something neutral, so that his boss wasn't screwed. He sent the naming specialist to the library so that he could bring back all the names of the animals that existed in the world. That was highly unlikely

that Henry Ford II would hook up with a capybara. That guy took his mission with responsibility and brought 42,000 names to Iacocca. Here you are, boss, read it over breakfast, bon appetit. As the result, there were focus-groups again, a bunch of discussions, meetings and so on. And it was decided that the car model's name would be Mustang. The premiere of the model was in 1964, the same year when Pontiac GTO appeared. With only one difference: as the sales started, April 17, 1964, Lee Iacocca began to receive the following news. One of the dealers in Chicago

shut down the door of the showroom to endure the rush of buyers. In Pittsburgh, one of the dealers couldn't get the exhibitory car to the car wash because he was surrounded by a huge crowd of people demanding to sell the car to them. In Texas, in average, 15 people laid claim for one car. All over the country, people rushed to Ford dealerships for their own car. But it was unreal. Ford's production plan for the first year was 75,000 cars. But since the first days, it became obvious that such amount wouldn't be even close to cover

the demand. Crowds of people were standing in dealerships and demanded Mustangs. Lucky guys who managed to purchase their own car Were momentarily the main show-offs of the neighbourhood. Some of them onselled their cars even just because it was impossbile to get. During the first week of the sales, Ford dealerships were visited by more than 4 million Americans. And the Time magazine, for the first time in its history, put a man with a car to its cover. Of course, those were a Mustang and Lee Iacocca. Meanwhile, the Ford board went all out to cover the demand

and began to scale up the line of products, and it was like in some army ways. Because initially, Ford planned to produce 75,000 cars a year, and management didn't count more efficiency for Mustang. During 9 months in 1964, when all the company worked for Mustang, they managed to produce only 121,000 cars, and they threw them to people so they could at least still their hunger. The only car that had larger issue through the first year of production was Ford Model A in the distant 1927. No other Ford model couldn't display such numbers. And after the

first year of sales, since April '64 till April '65, Mustang set the absolute record of the company with 318,000 sold cars. The corporation managed to tune up their production in a small way for the wild demand. During the calendar year 1965, Ford sold an absolutely impossible amount of 560,000 cars, and in 1966 - another 607,000 cars. That was not one car in 5 minutes, like with Pontiac. But a car every 52 seconds. Every 52 seconds, someone bought a Mustang in the country! Without breaking for sleep, lunch and weekends. Though, technically, there was nothing super technological

or groundbreaking in that car. It was based on the average Ford Falcon. Under the hood, it had basically 2.8 for 100 HP, and in the top - V8 for 164 HP. Later, the engines were improved, They became more powerful, but those cars were bought not for their sports parameters. People bought Mustang because just about every first citizen of the US could afford it because it was so cheap. But together with that, it was stylish, daring, and reflecting the spirit of the time completely. It was design-to-price ration that was the main argument for buyers, and in

every ad video, Ford flaunted his reward from Tiffany for the best car design. And after that, they showed the price - 2,368 dollars. And for that small money you could buy the 1960s style icon of the car. Yes, it had a comfortable interior for 4 seats, a big trunk and everything, but they bought that car because it was A very affordable entrance ticket to the world of stylish and beautiful cars. Basically, Ford as a company presented the world with a car for the second time. The first time was Ford Model T when Ford presented the

world with an affordable car, and it didn't matter what it was. And with Mustang, Ford made a gift to the whole country and to the whole world with an affordable car that could be loved, that people could be proud of. Behind the wheel of that car, they could get thrilled brains out and set out For your journey to every corners of the land without any worries and all. Without a goal, without a plan, without a destination. Literally, after a couple of yeas, a bunch of competitive models of other car manufacturers appeared. Chevrolet Camaro, Dodge charger,

Chevrolet Chevelle SS, Plymouth Belvedere, Oldsmobile Cutlass, and so on. But neither of them could сatch up with Mustang. Pontiac GTO was the pathfinder of muscle car and pony car classes. And Ford Mustang was their sales leader. And all of those cars together was the new love and passion of car users. In the middle and late 1960s, America once again went mad about cars. All that energy that was building up in people during the whole XX century; all those enamored eyes of little boys in 1920s, 1930s, 1940s that were looking at cars; all those mad yells

and applause on the sidelines of NASCAR and drag racing; and all the longing to get and to fall into a small part of those emotions that pilots of track cars had experienced; all of that resulted in a new-breed car, in really mad muscle cars and pony cars. Mustang, Pontiac GTO and the following Camaro, Charger, Chevelle SS and a ton of other models - those aren't cars. Mustang, Pontiac and all of their followers are symbols of the time. Symbols of the American era of the combustion engine that was roaring on the countless tracks and roads of

the country and lighting up hearts and eyes of little boys who were living in that madness. And thanks to those cars, every psycho could finally get a little part of their own dream. The dream to become one of those fearless drivers you had looked at your whole life. Muscle cars and pony cars aren't cars. Those are madness and love of people embodied in metal. And who helped to light up that love and passion? Bill France and Wally Parks. And the country could embody that love into cars thanks to brilliant John DeLorean and Lee Iacocca. Chapter

VIII. Sunset Glow 1970s. If we could call some time period tragical for the American car making, that would be 1970s. I highly doubt that our heroes are, like, "Oh, 1970s, I wish to go back! I didnt lose all my hair back then!" After Mustang's success, Iacocca kept on developing some new models. For a time, he had to accompany Mustang: he had to be engaged in manufacturing, to share car parties among dealers, to support service companies, and so on. When Iacocca tuned up all those processes and Mustang could exist wiithout his control, he knew he had

to move on and began to figure out all the company. Right after Mustang, he straightened up the dying department of Mercury Lincoln that was located inside Ford, and he launched the Cougar. Technically, it was the redrawn and fatter Mustang, But the model was quickly bought up in large amounts. And after the Cougar, under Iacocca's guidance, Lincoln Mark 3 appeared and outran in sales its eternal rival, Cadillac Eldorado. Ford as the company had been dreaming about it since 1930s. But only Iacocca did it. Beside new models, Iacocca brought the company to the motor racing. Indy 500,

F-1, Le Mans, Rally and so on. Ford cars took part in every popular division. But not because Iacocca was a motor racing fan but because he knew that was important for sales and the company image. As it was often said in dealerships of that time, you won a race on Sunday, you sold a car on Monday. With Iacocca, Ford once again became the strongest company in the country. And the son of common Italian immigrants who had left their country hoping for a better life, achieved the impossible. In 1970, Iacocca assumed a position of the president

of the Ford company. The man who came to the company 24 years ago as an average on-call seller was now sitting in the presidential chair. And that was rightly deserved, because during those 24 years, Iacocca had been working up to his collar. The company respected him very much 'cause everyone saw and knew he worked like hell. His results spoke for themselves. To turn around the giant and clumsy company, to give it the second life in the situation when everything was going to hell, that could be don only by a brilliant man. Iacocca was exactly that

man. Of course, he did plenty being the head of the company, but his main project was a new car. He already knew for sure that the recipe for success was making an unexpensive, reliable but fancy car. If you give people an opportunity to be proud of their cars for small money, that would be definitely a bestseller. Such car and the new success of the brand was Ford Pinto That appeared in the year when Iacocca got to the new position, 1970. He developed that model by himself. During the first year, 350,000 cars were sold, and that

was just a little less than with the super successful Mustang, but anyway, the result was brilliant. And Iacocca even predicted that the model would repeat the success of Ford Model T. But actually, that was a really average car. There was nothing astonishing about it. But people bought it, and evertything else didn't matter. Of course, alongside Iacocca, John DeLorean kept working for General Motors. After the launch of Pontiac GTO, DeLorean wanted to make a competitive car for Chevrolet Corvette. But the top staff of the corporation - old geezers, all of them, I remind you - didn't

confirm with those things. DeLorean was given a basically meaningless task for the boy to have something to do. Well, GM bosses thought like that, at least. Responding to Ford Mustang, in a hurry, GM launched their Chevrolet Camaro in 1966. The car was pretty raw because it was designed in a big hurry. But nevertheless, it was sold by amounts about 180,000 - 200,000 cars a year. The bosses thought they could give DeLorean that platform from Chevrolet Camaro. But so that he didn't create competition inside the corporation, Johnny had to make a more expensive version, only as

Pontiac. Actually, that task was kinda nonsense. Both Mustang and Camaro were sold only because they were cheap and very cool for that money. But it couldn't be helped. If you have to develop, you have to develop. Thank goodness, no one messed with the design. DeLorean changed body lines and adjusted car proportions a bit so that it could look more sporty. Despite the fact that Camaro and the new Pontiac model Were absolutely identical, by technology and by platform, Pontiac looked lighter and speedier. And of course, it needed a big name that DeLorean had prepared long ago.

The model was called Pontiac Firebird. When Johnny showed his model to the board, they were like, "Okay, so be it. Let's launch it quick already and forget about it and flush it." But in the first year of the sales, 1967, it was clear that something was wrong with the Firebird. Basically, that car had to close the price hole in the GM vehicle line and to not claim any sales whatsoever. But when reports of the first year of sales were in, all the board was like... "What do you mean we've sold 80,000 cars? What the... It

costs more than Camaro! And the car is the same!" The next year, 100,000 more cars were sold, and then - 87,000 more. Of course, it couldn't catch up with Camaro that was sold by 200,000 cars a year. But still, those were some unthinkable scale for Pontiac. The main brand in GM was, of course, Chevrolet. And several years later, when guys from Chevrolet noticed what DeLorean made with the Firebird, and what results that model showed, they were like, "Well, bring that young man here, to us, please." And so, in 1972, DeLorean became the youngest member of

the GM board. Just the same son of immigrants, only not Italian ones but Romanian ones, he came to the basic position and became one of the top staff due only to his talent, tenacity and achievements. But that was really very funny. Just look at that photo. Those are the owners of farted through chairs who were leading GM at that time. And DeLorean was like, "Help! Where is my violin, Mommy!?" And thus, our heroes came to 1970s. The first thing that happened in the beginning of the decade was the global energy and oil crisis. We spoke

about it more specifically in our video about ecology, oil and electrocars. But here I will notice the main moments that matter for that video. All of that happened because the Eastern countries that supplied the whole world with oil, threatened to cut that supply at any moment. "And also, we will decide ourselves how much oil we will supply or for what country. If we decide not to export oil to you country, We won't supply you with anything." That was the approximate slogan of Arabs at that time. Of course, the oil market began to panic immediately. Prices

jumped up, and the USA began to spare oil and gas in all possible ways. For common citizens, all that story looked like that: you just couldn't fill up. There was no fuel on the gas stations. And if you managed to get a couple gallons of gas somewhere, the price of that gas was about twice as high as usual because it jumped to the ceiling at once. Plus, in 1978, there was the second loop of crisis, And the final price for gas in the end of the decade was 4 times higher than in the beginning. The

second important process of 1970s was the fall of Detroit which we also discussed in the special documentary. In 1967, there was a mutiny of local Black population of the city, and they had to fight it with tanks. Naturally, the mutiny didn't happen by itself but it was a logical consequence of that climate and atmosphere that reigned in the city. It was dangerous to live in Detroit of late 1960s - early 1970s. All sane people left Detroit by any possibility. And for the companies that survived 1970s, Moving factories, offices, warehouses and contractors from Detroit to other

parts of the country was very expensive. Packard, Studebaker, Midget Motors, Real Motors, Hudson, Willys-Overland and Kelvinator... Kelvinator! Imagine the name of the company, fuck! All those companies couldn't survive 1950-1970s. And that was not the full list. Companies went broke one after another. Plus, in 1970s, eco-activists and politicians sanctioned the first ecological emission targets in the world. And that meant for all the car manufacturers to spend additional money for development of new engines That would satisfy those requirements. Long story short, for car manufacturers, 1970s were quite the opposite to the fat 1950s and the first half

of 1960s. And objectively, companies weren't ready for that. DeLorean felt out of his element in the board. As if it weren't enough that only corporate grandpas were there, he was also deprived of his favorite work - projecting. When you take the leading position, the first thing that you do is stopping work with your hands on your own. Any executive is responsible for the right organization of the process by hands of other people. That's his core, not making something by yourself. Johnny was a designer through and through, and ruling, political games among the high rank managers,

corporations, endless meetings, discussion, huddles - he didn't care about them. He hated that job with his very soul. He wanted to make the best cars in the world with his own hands, not to sit in a dusty chair and to quietly turn into the same, typical, old geezer from the board. And when the crisis of 1973 began, and GM's management became panic and hysterical, Johnny looked at all of that and thought he didn't want to waste his life for that company and for those people. He stood up and left in silence. Weird as it was,

they let Johnny go quite easily. They didn't make him to pay some huge compensations, they didn't keep him on his post by force. They were just like, of course, welcome out of here, we will not detain you. Most likely, they did it because it couldn't hurt to spare a top manager salary during the crisis. And I think, they had other things to worry about. All the other top staff had to save the company. One way or another, in 1973, with the wind at his back, DeLorean left the company. Of course, he didn't intend to leave

the car industry. All the same, DeLorean didn't want to be hired anymore, to some engineering departments or to the top staff of some brand. DeLorean wanted to do his own thing. He wanted to created his own brand, his own car, and to show the whole world what he was capable of. The main task was to find some funding and to build a factory. And DeLorean didn't worry about the car at all because he knew how to create masterpieces. Since Johnny was already famous at that moment and had his reputation, he found money pretty quickly. First,

The Bank of America opened a huge credit line for him to start a company, And he brought several private investors. Second, from his experience in GM, DeLorean knew that if he'd put a factory in some region with high level of unemployment, in some real shithole, he could spare some coin from salaries because people would be ready to work for small wages. And also, he could negotiate with the regional government so that it supported him with some grants for creating new work places. There were two regions that suited DeLorean: Puerto Rico and the Northern Ireland. After

not so long-term negotiations, they decided to build the factory in Ireland, Because the British government was kind enough to give land and 120 million dollars to support the new factory. And considering the fact that DeLorean needed 200 million dollars for the whole factory, 60% from that amount was a pretty heavy argument to agree to those terms and to put the factory in the place where you'd be supported with money. All those negotiations, search for money and projecting the factory took 5 years, and in 1978, they began to build the DMC factory - DeLorean Motor Company.

And when it was clear that factory would exist, one minor problem remained. They had to create the best car in the world. Finally, DeLorean was free to do what he wanted; nobody stopped him anymore or stinted him in his creativeness. The idea was to repeat the muscle car phenomenon. The car had to be powerful, stylish, high-status and unexpensive. But beside standard traits of a muscle car, this car had to have something else. It had to be technological, it had to be the car that would open for people doors to the new era of car making.

Initially, DeLorean planned to get the V8 and the whole suspension from Corvette, the coolest car in General Motors at that moment. Plus, he wanted to entice into development of the facace of his car the most stylish designer of that era, Giorgetto Giugiaro; and chassis would be fine-tuned by engineers from Lotus. Plus, DeLorean stole from GM another man -William Collins, the main engineer and design specialist from Pontiac he had been working many years with. And on paper, that plan looked simply magnificent. On top of that, DeLorean wanted to make an absolutely unique facade, and so the

car necessarily had to have doors in the shape of seagull wings, the car had to be made from expensive stainless steel so that it didn't need any paint, at all, but it had its unique metal color. And for it to be controlled on the road like nothing else, it had to have its engine in the back. At the expense of cheap manufacturing, cheap workers in Ireland and grants from the government, the total price had to be only 12,000 dollars. That's why the prototype looked simply magnificent. On top of that, the name of the car was

DSV-12 where DSV stood for DeLorean Safety Vehicle, and 12 for the price the manufacturer was aiming at. And when the production started, the car was renamed as DMC-12. Judging by schematics and trial models, the car had to be simply legendary. DeLorean couldn't wait for the moment when the production would start. But actually, DMC-12 was the car that wouldn't become a bestseller. Instead, it would completely demolish the career of John DeLorean. The car DeLorean had been dreaming of his whole life would simply crush its maker after several years. Problems began at once, with the first and

main detail of the car - the engine. Initially, DeLorean planned to buy the license for the V8 from Corvette. But there was a little nuance. The thing was that Johnny, rioter in his nature, couldn't leave GM quietly. When he left the board, a bunch of journalists came to him, of course, and they began to ask him what had happened, how it had happened, and all of that. And instead of saying something neutral, like, "I just want to evolve in another direction", or "I'm grateful to the company for the time I've spent there, but now is

the time to move on", or something like that, DeLorean began to pour out everything he thought; like, the board consisted of old geezers, the company was organized like hell, and he was sick to death by working out there. Of course, GM were insulted. And when the great strategist of public communication came to them and asked to sell an engine to him, they logically sent him to hell. GM was very sensitive to public criticism. About the same years, there was the story of Chevrolet Corvair resounding, we spoke about it in the video "75 minutes later, you

will be fastening your seat belts". The thing was, one journalist named Ralph Nader found very serious problems with the design of a GM car and spoke publically about it. And instead of admitting their mistake, the corporation began to stalk that journalist, put him under psychological pressure and harassed him. Of course, the public criticism of the company from the man who had worked in the board was even more hurtful. That's why no one would sell anything to DeLorean. Ford said no to DeLorean with their V6 all the same because they didn't want to deal with such

a scandalous person. As the result, the only engine DeLorean could buy and the only one that matched in design was the V6 PRV. The engine was called PRV because it was the codesign of Peugeot, Renault and Volvo. The volume of the engine was 2.8, and after it was tuned up to every eco-norms existing, it produced wild and crazy 130 HP. Literally, because of several ill-headed interviews, The powerful V8 with over 300 HP from Corvette turned to the V6 from Peugeot, Renault and Volvo with 130 HP. Beside the engine, DeLorean missed with each and every component

of the car because he was honestly a bad manager. Processes were failing even before the launch of the production. Cancellations from vendors, problems with logistics, inefficient production, lack of parts, personnel gap and the whole lot of other small problems led to the result: at the beginning of the production, the car cost not 12,000 dollars but 25,000. DeLoran failed in his calculations almost twice as big against the retail price. If the idea of a unique car with the powerful V8 for 12,000 dollars was very promising, the car with the engine from Peugeot, Renault and Volvo with

130 HP For 25,000 dollars was a complete failure. Because by that time, you could already buy a Ferrari for 30,000 dollars. The factory began to work in December, 1980, and the first car left the assembly line in January, 1981. Almost 2 years later than it was planned. The first batch should have contained 4,000 cars with pre-orders made when the factory was only in the process of building. But it was clear at once that was an unreal thing to do. First, the assembly line wasn't able to produce such quantity because there was constant disruption of supplies

regarding the parts, and workers at the assembly line were really dreadful. And when the first cars the factory managed to assemble Got to their clients somehow, they appeared to be not the cars people expected to get. The cars were hooked, ugly, badly assembled and very unsafe. Everything was out of whack. The clients were storming their dealers demanding to get their cars fixed. But there were no parts, really. And no one knew how to tend to them. The producer factory didn't react at requests. Even provided that the guarantee from the factory was only one year or

19,000 operational km, the factory couldn't pay for repairs even for that small window because it didn't have any money. The sales went down at once. During 1981, DeLorean could produce only 7,500 cars. And they managed to sell only 3,000. DeLorean sent letters to all his dealers asking them to buy 6 cars each in order to save the company from the financial disaster. But no one dealer wanted to buy such a raw product that was very hard to sell. And after that, they had to fix it at their own expences. All the dealers knew that if

they would sell those cars, it would be highly possible that their clients could return demanding warranty repair. And the producer factory couldn't help them, And they would be one to one with unhappy customers. As the result, the company bled money. The building of the factory and the development of the car ate all the money available, and there was no revenue from sales. No one bought their cars. And even the small amount of cars that reached the customers caused expenses, too, because they called for many warranty repairs. And DeLorean had no idea how to fix the

situation. Financial reporting creaked at the seams. Everyone knew that DeLorean had big problems. He was a marked man, really, he had many connections and many friends. But at the same time, he had a lot of enemies. There are many theories about what happened with DeLorean, and all of them are different - and without cast iron proof. But all of them are against Johnny. Technically, that's what happened. In the end of 1982, they built a criminal case against Johnny for smuggling drugs, specifically - cocaine, for 2 million dollars. It's some unexpected shit in this story, I

get it. But believe me, Johnny was also shocked as hell. Johnny had a neighbor in the holiday village That was aware about his financial situation. One day, he came to Johnny and said, "Look, here's the deal. You could help me with some business. You have 2 million dollars. Look here, I have a contact, we could buy some substance for those 2 million dollars, bring it here - and sell it for 30 million. And we get stoned, too. It's easy peasy, I've done it 100 times, no worries." DeLorean, that natural rioter and a butthead, apparently, agreed

for some reason. Really, in that case, he'd better play violin. As soon as Johnny paid his money and got his goods, he was grabbed by the FBI at once. His neighbour appeared to be a stool pigeon, and that operation was planned beforehand. The agents' task was to make DeLorean agree to participate in that party, and further on, it wouldn't be a problem to lock him down till the rest of his life. And the neighbor fulfilled the task of convincing DeLorean with flying colors. But thank God, they didn't get the chance to lock DeLorean up. The

jury showed understanding and acquitted him saying that was the dirty work from the FBI. They knew about his financial problems and basically, they didn't give him a choice and pushed him to deliver drugs. The question without an answer, why the heck DeLorean was suddenly needed by the FBI, and why he was chosen to be caught smuggling drugs. Some people say that was a setup of a competitive company, afraid of success of DMC-12. Some believe that would be revenge of General Motors for the constant criticism from DeLorean. But we wouldn't know the truth. The main thing

in that situation was the fact that John's business reputation received a deadly blow. With that mark on your forehead, when a case over cocaine smuggling is or was hanging on you, you would never be able to get funding. And DeLorean's company collapsed in no time. It's twice a shame that the year of the fall of DeLorean Motor Company was the year of the film that showed this car to all of us. Back to the Future. The film that made that car iconic at once came out literally after a few months after the assembly lines of

the factory stopped. And DMC-12 was the last creation John DeLorean put his hand to. For the rest of his life, he would dream about creating another legendary car. And rumors were in the air of the car community that something was coming, something was about to happen. But DeLorean would never be able to recover from the blow launched by that law case. As Lee Iacocca said, John DeLorean was jealous of him very much in a very human way, when Iacocca appeared on the cover of the Time magazine after the launch of Mustang. He wanted to be

there, too. It's a tragedy that John's face got onto that cover but for a completely different reason. John DeLorean died in 2005 thinking that he didn't make it. But I think of him as of a man who could achieve his dream. He could make a car that is known to Any boy born in 1980s and in 1990s, the car everyone of us wants to ride on. And we all know that this car is called DeLorean. As the one of the most extarordinary car designers of XX century. Meanwhile, while that story with DeLorean was unfolding, Ford's

life also was harsh. In 1978, during a road accident, three girls were burnt to death inside a car. The problem was the fact that they were in a Ford Pinto, one of Lee Iacocca's calling cards. Ford Pinto was the car that saw the light in the very year Iacocca was assigned to be the head of the company. Basically, that car was Ford's answer to the European Volkswagen Beetle that became popular on the American market. Ford also wanted to launch its cheap and mainstream car. The result was quite a worthy car, especially regarding its price with

1,800 dollars. As I said, during the first year, 350,000 cars were sold, and for 9 years of manufacturing, the issue was 3 million cars. But literally in 2 years after the launch of the model, a tragedy happened. In 1972, Lily Gray drove with the 13-year-old teenager, Richard Grimshaw, along one of Californean routes. With the speed about 50 m/h - or 80 km/h - they got into a car accident; as the result, the gas tank of their car sparked, blasted, and the girl died at once, And the teenager got serious burns all over the body. The

problem was the plug hole of the gas tank that was ill-designed, it burst even with a small hit into the car's back. The fuel out of torn-up plug hole and the tank itself sprayed onto the hot emission, and the car exploded at once leaving no chance for passengers. After the investigation, the state court of California ordered to pay 3,5 million dollars to the families of victims. Of course, Ford did it. But during the defense in court, the company made a fatal mistake. Ford made a following statement: "Since Pinto is a popular car, about a million

on our roads, The recall campaign and the reequipment of all cars will be very expensive for us, guys. Far more expensive than compensation to all potential victims that could burn in our cars. And so, we're not gonna do anything about it. It's cheaper for us to do nothing. And we're not fools, we were initially aware of that structural feature. And other car makers have exactly the same neglects. Do you think, anyone gives a damn? Of course, not. Everyone has something like that, and they manage somehow." The position of the company, based upon dry math, thatdirectly

said that money was more important for them than human life, didn't raise a wave of public outrage. It was a tsunami of shit all over the country. Every accident involving Ford Pinto was scrutinized by the public under the microscope. If someone died in the accident, the new wave of criticism crushed over Ford. And nobody knew that cars of other corporations were just the same. In 1970s, car makers didn't care about what would happen to their cars during the impact. But because of Ford's position that the recall campaign was too expensive, People were punishing Pinto. But

at the same time, they kept on buying it in hundreds of thousands. A bipolar situation. Such public concern of the car wouldn't pass the NHTSA in any case - that was the organization of road-traffic safety that was created several years before the skandal. In 1974, they took the whole batch of Pinto and began trials in order to understand if the car was really dangerous and its producing had to be stopped, or if the car was alright, and people were just scared shitless. The first phase of trials, including impacts, didnt' show that the fuel could explode.

During all standard trials, gas didn't explode, the NHTSA wrote about it honestly in 1974, like, Pinto was a normal usual car, nothing scary about it. But activists and the public didn't like that position, of course. All the citizens, particularly gifted with intellect, were like, "Yes, of course, Ford gave them money and bought everyone. It's obvious. So much for a safety organization, yes." The NHTSA's position was similar to Ford's. The car passed all the necessary trials without any problems, there was nothing in its design that could differ it from its contemporaries. Every one of them were

similar. Of course, people weren't calmed by that statement but boosted even more. Ralph Nader joined the case at once, the same man that was harassed by GM for his criticism of Chevrolet Corvair. He took charge of public outrage. Activists counted each accident and each death that occured in Pinto. In 1978, they counted 24 deaths because of a lit up gas tank in Pinto. But for all the time Pinto was produced, 1970-1978, almost 450,000 people died on the US roads, and everyone was in comfort with it. The main thing was, that during those 8 years, 24

people of those 450,000 died because of Pinto's gas tank. But in 1978, there was the last and the most resonant accident when three girls of 16 and 18 years old burnt to death inside a Pinto. That accident was nationwide famous and couldn't leave anyone untouched. See for yourselves: 3 young girls, technically teenagers. A horrible death by fire in the car that was criticized for several years in a row for its dangerous design. The public was so outraged that the NHTSA had no choice, and they were forced to reopen the case. But this time, their job

was not to test the car but to prove by any means possible that it was dangerous. "Do what you want but the results of the trial must show that the car is dangerous". Of course, the NHTSA had to cheat. They hung additional dolly blocks under the front bumper of the car that crushed against Pinto's back, Plus they increased the speed of impact, they left the lights of the back car on in order to increase the chance of gas combustion; they lifted Pinto's back suspension so that the gas tank could be more vulnerable, and so on.

Of course, as the result, guys made a statement, like, yes, Pinto was dangerous and the recall campaign was in order. But of course, they did that in order to calm people down because all the changes in design that were recommended by the NHTSA for implementation were similar to that: you need to put a small plastic bludder between the plug hole and the body, And the plug hole woulnd't burst, that's enough. That was a sheer profanation. They needed to do something, even if absolutely useless, to calm the crazy crowd down. Anf of course, after that story,

any record sales or financial success of the model were out of the question. The car image was simply crushed in the eyes of Ford's buyers. In a year after the second NHTSA investigation, the corporation took Pinto out of production for good. And magazines and other popular editions would toss shit to the car for a while. The Forbes called Pinto one of the worst cars of all times, although who asked the Forbes? The Time also named Pinto among 50 worst cars of the century. And the Popular Mechanics magazine called that car the most memorable failure of

the XX century. Although, in 1991, in the Rutgers scientific magazine, there was an article by the professor of law, Gary Schwartz,about Ford Pinto. He was interested by that case as a lawyer because the car company was being screwed just like that, without any visible reasons. In that article, Schwartz proved that Pinto wasn't dangerous. On the contrary, if we compare average rates of flammability among the cars of that time, Pinto's were even below average. According to the fire statistics in percents of the whole amount of accidents, it was the same as the popular Chevrolet Vega Datsun

510. And Toyota Corolla and Volkswagen Beetle were far more dangerous with regard to flammability. But in 1970s, everyone didn't care. They saw the key public enemy in that car and wanted to reduce it to dust. And the public did that splendidly. All that situation about Pinto happened to be very convenient for Henry Ford II. The owner of the company had sour relations with its president. Iacocca constantly criticised his employer saying he wasn't decisive enough, constantly delaying, thinking about something and poorly understanding the market. And Iacocca was right. Everyone was perfectly aware that Henry Ford II

couldn't have been farther perfect leader. He was far enough from the definition of a good leader, actually. But Iacocca was the only one who wasn't afraid to say that in his face. And he was very respected for that. And in his turn, Henry realized that Iacocca was much more popular than him in the company. In the company that belonged to Henry Ford. And he didn't need anything like that. Who knows, perhaps, he was afraid that Iacocca could take his company away from him, or he wasn't comfortable near the man who was way cooler than himself.

But all that hustle with Pinto was a very convenient excuse in order to simply get rid of Iacocca. Right after the second NHTCA investigation in 1987, Henry Ford II made a statement that all the responsibility for the Ford Pinto tragedy lied on Iacocca. Because of him, the company suffered financial and reputational losses. On top of that, Iacocca had already lost all his talents in creating of splendid cars. He didn't feel the market, he didn't understand it, and that's why from that very moment, Lee Iacocca didn't work in the company. Free the office, please. That was

the end of the story of the most bright manager in the Ford company. That situation wasn't unexpected for Iacocca Himself because he was a smart guy and understood everything perfectly. But he had no reasons to be happy. Lee Iacocca gave 24 years of his life to the Ford company, he dragged it from the financial pit, and he made a gift to the whole world with the car that still counts for one of the most important events in the car world. And everything he got in the end from Henry Ford II as sign of gratitude for

his work was the chance to take his belongings from the office. At that time, Iacocca was 54 years old, and of course, he didn't want to retire. He didn't want to go anywhere at all. Of course, when the announcement came that Lee Iacocca was kicked out from Ford, each and every car maker made their employment offers to him. Lee Iacocca was the best of the best, and eachcompany dreamt of getting such a valuable asset. The most interesting offer for Iacocca came from Chrysler. Those guys offered him to become the head of the company, right away.

Without probation periods, long negotiations and all that crap. Just come to us, take the reins, we trust you completely. There was a little nuance: Chrysler hid the real situation in the company from Iacocca. And it was on the verge of bankruptcy at that time. From that angle, it was clear why they offered him to run the company right away. Chrysler had nothing more to lose at that moment, it was a win-or-nothing game. But Iacocca didn't know that. He suspected they had problems because he knew all the car makers very well. But he didn't even imagine

the hopeless shit Chrysler was sitting in. Technically, the giant corporation had several months before bankruptcy, and it was impossible to drag the giant out of that hole, according to the board. And so, they were ready to offer anything for the man that would solve their problems. And Iacocca, without knowing the real situation, agreed. He signed the contract for several years. As Iacocca himself wrote in his book, if he knew the Chrysler situation beforehand, he would never come to its board. As soon as he opened all the financial and management reports, his eyes nearly fell out

of his head. As he wrote in his book, again, he couldn't even imagine that the business could be so bad. Sales were falling, financial accounting was negative; the company was generating debts; manufactures were slow and inefficient; components and suppliers sucked. Iacocca spent a few days in sheer horror, And then he got his breath, rolled up his sleeves and did what he could do best - began to work up to the collar. The most important thing was that he saved the company due to 2 things. First, he eliminated inefficient management. He left only 2 top managers

out of 35, and he adjusted all the processes inside the company. Like, work with dealers, with part suppliers, finances, corporate by-laws, corporate structure, and so on. That sounds quite easy, just adjusting everything. But actually, that was simply titanic job when you take a giant corporation And begin to remake everything from scratch. The second thing that helped Iacocca take Chrysler out of shit was the launch of two super successful models. Despite Henry Ford's words about his former president, Lee Iacocca didn't lose his talents, and he felt the market perfectly, and he knew what the common people

needed. Two new models appeared in the Chrysler corporation, and Lee Iacocca was fully responsible for them: Dodge Caravan and Plymouth Voyager. Basically, Lee Iacocca invented minivans that would become market bestsellers Together with small Japanese cars in the nearest decades. Those two minivans were the secure financial foothold for Chrysler in 1980s and saved the company from certain death. But exactly those models and types of bodies showed better than anything that the era of roaring muscle cars ended. As if the country was grown up. Everyone began to count expenses because of the gas. Everyone wanted a practical

car that wouldn't break. Muscle cars and all the hustle around them disappeared as fast as it appeared. Giant, roaring coupes with monstrous engines burst into the life of simple Americans in the middle of 1960s, and they disappeared in 1970s at lightning speed. Yes, those models exist until today. Yes, there were sold on some level. But there weren't such huge numbers in sales, common madness and the wish to own an absolutely meaningless but a very fun car anymore. All of it vanished in the thin air. And minivans at the top of sales proved the best that

the era was gone. 1980s and 1990s are times of a very interesting movement of the car market in the world. If we take the whole world, such amount of events happened at that time that we're planning to do several videos about that time period, and we're gonna tell you about everything. But one things matters for this video. According to numbers, that time period was the peak of popularity of NASCAR and drag racing. Stadiums burst with audience, live translations of races were showed on every main TV-channel of the country. According to surveys, 40% of the whole

US population watched the ring races and the straight races. Practically, each second US citizen, regardless their gender, age and financial state, watched the races, one way or another. But despite that crazy popularity and audience, Those races lacked one crucial element for our story. They lacked usual cars. Up until 1967, those cars were strictly stock, without improvements and adaptations. In 1967, the first serious adjustment of regulations happened. The teams were allowed to use the roll cage, and adjustments of chassis were permitted. In 1980, new regulations came out that turned NASCAR cars to real racing cars that

resembled stock cars only in looks but they didn't have anything in common technically. Of course, that was because of pilots' safety. Of course, they needed to increase speeds And to do other chassis for that, other wind shapes of the bodies, other engines. The audience liked it, everyone liked everything. Except you couldn't come to the race as a viewer with your common car and see the same car as yours in the ring. And hot rods disappeared from public roads just the same. If you as an amateur wanted to start with straight racing, you could easily buy

a fast muscle car that cost relatively cheap. You didn't need to buy something average anymore to adjust it with a file. Car corporations already did everything for you. You just gave 2-3 thousand dollars, and you could go to the airfield Without spending half a year for assembling your car. You took money out of your pocket, and couple of hours later, you were on the start line. And if you wanted some serious shit, you needed a dragster, nothing common with an average car. And it broke competitors away from average people, too. The US motor racing grew

up and became a separate industry, with other cars and other speeds that were alreadyout of reach for common people. And thus, it broke away from the common life. If you leave only a chance to watch some event for people, without the sense of belonging, after some time they would turn away. One of the reasons so many people watch soccer is that you could just buy a ball, go to the yard or some space, and you're a player already. Already the same. Only you and the ball, you don't need anything else. And sport cars of 1980-1990s

showed that you couldn't get close to pilots even if you'd buy the fastest stock car. They were just different. And people sensed that. There was a feeling in the air as if something was missing. As if something was gone and would never come back. Especially, if you see the traffic of the roads of 1980-1990s that included minivans, small Japanese cars And some gray, boring and useless American cars. The real Americans were left in the past as fast as they appeared. All the films about muscle cars - and hot rods were either about 1960s, - or

about 1950s before them. "American Graffiti" about hot rodders was about 1950s. "Vanishing Point" - about 1960s. The first "Gone in 60 Seconds" - about 1970s, and the second - about 1967 Mustang. The first "Mad Max" was about XXIV century but with cars of 1970s. Even the first "Fast and Furious" was about Dodge Charger. There was a contrast of modern cars of late 1990s and the very real monster from 1970s. And it was loud and clear that America missed that past time. And it misses still. What happened in the USA in 1960s was the coincidence of

huge amount of factors. That was a separate world, a paradise for car users that had been existing for about 15 years. It appeared very suddenly due to large concourse of circumstances, and it collapsed suddenly, due to large concourse of circumstances, as well. Only some enthusiasts remain, real grandpas that keep some cars in fair condition and nostalgically swinging in their rocking chair, they remember how cool it was. All those young guys from 1960-1970s could do in the modern world Is to tell their grandchildren how cool it was. And how they were racing along the roads with

the cars of their dreams. Without a goal, without a plan, without a destination. But suddenly, the era of those cars is already gone, as well as people who pushed it. Bill France, the creator of NASCAR, retired completely in late 1980s and left the company under the rule of his son, Bill France Junior, because his health prevented him from handling it. In 1990s, the creator of the most popular races in the US was 81 years old. And 2 years later, in 1992, Bill France died from Alzheimer. NASCAR exists still as an event, that's the second popular

kind of motor racing in the world, after the queen of motor racing, F-1. But the current popularity is just an echo of what was happening in 1960-1990s. It was a unique time when in each family, in each house in the US, people were watching cars racing along the course, and they were rooting genuinely for their favorite pilots. And that love was given to the whole country by Bill France, a usual guy who wanted to share his passion for races with as maximum amount of people as possible. In 2004, Bill France was set down postmortem to

the Automotive Hall of Fame with following words: "Visionary that he was, even Bill France himself could not have envisioned which huge monster With millions of fans NASCAR would turn to when he called together a small group of people in order to discuss the creation of the racing association in Streamline hotel in 1947." And Wally Parks, creator of the National Association of Hot Rods, was included into the Automotive Hall of Famie in 2000, for his organization of safe races. And Lee Iacocca was first awarded with the Industry Leader in 1982, and in 1994, he was also

included into the Automotive Hall of Fame as one of the most extraordinary managers and leaders of car companies of all times. The only one of heroes of our video today Not being in the Hall of Fame is John DeLorean. Because after the case of drig smuggling, all official rewards were out of the question. But DeLorean got his main reward unofficially. He got a small corner in the heart of each teenager of 1980-1990s who saw "Back to the Future" and dreamt to be behind the wheel of a car created by that man. All those people -

Parks, France, DeLorean and Iacocca, they were boys in 1920s who looked with fascinated eyes at the appearance of cars, at reckless bootleggers and hot rodders who tamed and forced to listen those new And unknown iron monsters of the industrial century, Those boys, each in his own way, created and headed the new loop of history of car love, general craziness and madness. The loop of history that reeks with gas, motor oil and adrenaline. And all those heroes, like the blaze of car madness in 1960s, are already gone. The first was Bill France in 1992. John DeLorean

followed him in 2005. Wally Parks - in 2007. And 2 years ago, in 2019, in the age of 94, Lee Iacocca was gone, too. The last thing I want to say. Everything ends at some time. The mankind is rushing in a mad train called life, chasing new sensations, chasing new experiences, chasing new technologies. Each historical time period has its own heroes that created it, personified it and inspired it. Bill France, Wally Parks, John DeLorean and Lee Iacocca are the heroes who deserve their places in the Automotive Hall of Fame, the hall of fame of the

world motor racing. Each of them, in their own way, personified and was responsible for the madness That was happening in the world in the middle of XX century. Madness that gave us cars. Madness that was burning in the eyes of each man who lived at that time and couldn't imagine his life without freedom that car gives you. Madness, echoes of which are heard today still on the courses of the whole world and in our hearts, and in our eyes. We're part of that era, too. We, residents of CIS, although a bit slowly, we were also

growing up and looking at cars bursting into our lives with roar. As well as those boys in 1920s were looking at bootleggers, We were looking at reckless guys in 1990s who were driving cars unachievable for ordinary people. We wanted to be as cool as them, with the same cool cars. We grew up on movies where the car was the element of the same significance as the main character, and sometimes, it was the main character. Look at "Back to the Future". And each one of us wants to go back to the future, once in a lifetime,

with a real DeLorean. In our country, the name Schumacher became generic. And our fathers who were able to buy their first car were tinkering with them all evening long, And we were watching and helping, giving wrenches and so on. And when we came to the gas station, we took a deep breath to feel that sour smell of gas. And our fathers couldn't wait for the moment when they could sit us down to their lap and allow us to be at the helm under their control. And the best and brightest event for us was for our

family to get in the car and to drive somewhere to relatives in other city, to the South, or even to the dacha, that didn't matter. The main thing was to watch your father sitting behind the wheel of his dream he managed to live out. What else could have grown out of us? Only car zealots, right? Of course, I speak here about my childhood, about my father and family. But you had the same things. With different hues and circumstances, but the core was the same. Because of that, we're the era that would be called in the

future the roaring era of combustion engine, the era of drivers controlling that mechanical, roaring and feisty animal. The era when people raced their cars to the limit of the laws of physics and of reason. The era dawned with sunset glow. That sunset glow shines upon us shortly before the era of autopilots and the complete automatization of traffic. Shortly before the era when the car would be just a practical thing to deliver the passenger from A to B, under the control of algorithm completely. Shortly before the era when people won't know how to drive just because

they wouldn't need it. After some very short length of time, our era of car fans will be gone for good. And at some point, cars would experience the same thing that happened with horses back there. Once, riding a horse was a necessary skill for the large majority of people and a huge bliss for a part of them. And now, it's just a hobby for a very small amount of people on private hippodromes. Cars destroyed that skill in us completely because they destroyed the original need in riding horses. Of course, they gave other feelings to mankind

instead, in their turn, opened new horizons, other speed and free sensations, and they made it so that several generations of people who lived in XX century and keep on living in XXI century don't see their lives without turning a start key, waking the engine inside a car and riding over the hills and far away. Apparently, we are the last generation That understands the bliss of driving a car. And the last generation that feels nostalgic about that bygone era we never would live in. About the era of absolute car freedom, the era of speed, the era

of madness. And we are the last generation that wants to race their dream along the road in keeping with the best traditions of valuers of car bliss. Without a goal. Without a plan. Without a destination. Created by Stas Asafiev Written by Eliza Tsatsurina Script editor - Stas Asafiev Directed by Daniil Gudkov Directors of photography - Daniil Gudkov, Vitaly Andreev Directors of photography - Egor Zorin, Dennis Trushechkin Lighting designer - Vitaly Andreev Editor - Daniil Gudkov Editors - Egor Zorin, Dennis Trushechkin Grading - Vadim Yerlin Producers - Daniil Gudkov, Eliza Tsatsurina Executive producer - Sergei Semyonov

Storyboarding - Sergei Semyonov, Eliza Tsatsurina Music selection - Stas Asafiev Sound and remastering - Denis Stroev Absurd Drive - Alexei Gusev Absurd Drive - Alexei Kudryashov Design - Pavel Bondarenko Make up - Anastasia Rostovceva Make up - Tatiana Ilyina Supported by Avtopragmat