I n a sea of shiny pro-street and gasser-style
Willyses painted bright reds and yellows, Al Lindgren’s unrestored, ghostly
Bedford Gray 1941 Willys Americar coupe, with all of its chips and dings and its
skinny bias-ply tires, is the star of the show.
And unlike those other
Willys owners, Lindgren didn’t have to re-engineer his Willys’ suspension, cut
its body to fit bigger meats or build an early Hemi engine for the coupe to
attract a crowd. He barely had to track down any parts, let alone paint the
coupe. In fact, the less he does to it, the more it stands out.

After more than 65 years, this Willys
retains nearly all of its original paint. Equally surprisingly, it’s never even
seen a drag racer’s torch. Its current owner, Al Lindgren, owns a second Willys
coupe that was a gasser in the 1960s. That car is being revived to gasser
configuration, but the coupe pictured here will remain stock as long as it’s in
Lindgren’s hands. Lindgren tracked this car’s history back to the original
owner, a Willys dealer who sold only two cars, including this one. (Nathan
Van Bogart photo)
To find out how Lindgren’s Willys coupe remained
one of the finest original ’41 Willys coupes, one need only to trace its tracks
from the start. Luckily, Lindgren has just done that.
In the early 1940s,
Chris Nelson from Canton, S.D., received a license to distribute Willys
vehicles. According to Lindgren’s research, the penny-wise Nelson wanted the
license only to get a better deal on a new car. Willys required its licensees to
purchase at least two vehicles, so Nelson bought two coupes, the most affordable
body style from America’s least-expensive full-size marque.

It’s hard to believe, but the 1937 and
1938 Willyses, which shared basic body shells with this 1941 Americar, were
voted as the worst-looking cars those years in an annual poll taken at the New
York Auto Show by the Market Research Corp. There’s no question that the Willys’
design has proven timeless, and that revised front sheet metal in 1940 only made
what many now consider to be a good thing even better. This particular ‘41
Willys is so original, it still retains its optional exhaust tailpipe extension.
As required, two Willyses arrived at Nelson’s South Dakota
business from Willys’ Toledo assembly line: a blue coupe and the gray coupe
pictured here. Nelson kept the blue coupe for himself, and it was eventually
destroyed in a garage fire during the 1950s. The gray coupe was sold to Nelson’s
brother Herman, who kept the miles low. From 1941-’59, Herman only put 21,000
miles on the Willys, and from 1959-’67, he added only 800 more miles to the
odometer. All the while, Herman kept the car serviced and in a heated
garage.
By the late 1960s, Herman probably endured countless offers from
drag racers to buy his Willys coupe, but he resisted every one of them. Since
the 1950s, the type of people who would give a Willys a second look were drag
racers with thoughts of Hemi engines and Oldsmobile rear ends dancing in their
heads. Thanks to the Willys’ featherweight status and short wheelbase length,
which actually aided traction at drag strip Christmas trees, Willyses were the
perfect drag cars, never mind the fact that they looked good doing it.
It
took more than a stock engine to move the Willys, however. The 63-hp
four-cylinder installed by the factory into every 1941 Willys was good for
puttering along back roads at a decent clip, but as the number of freeways (and
their speed limits) increased, driving an old and stock Willys may have seemed
like a liability more than a leisure activity. From this line of thinking, many
drag racers probably felt they were doing a favor by modifying
Willyses.

It’s a cavernous trunk, but is it large enough to sleep in? The second
owner’s family thought so and camped out here on occasion. Under the original
tools and reproduction trunk mat, the car’s current owner found previous owners’
names scratched into the paint. The names are still
there.
When Herman Nelson finally did sell his Willys in 1967,
it wasn’t to a drag racer or street rodder — it was to Sonny Hagseth, his great
nephew. Herman cut Sonny a sweet deal on the 21,700-mile Willys and handed over
the car and title for only $200.
The car’s age and low sale price didn’t
prevent Sonny from trusting its dependability. He used the car on several trips,
and he and his family often slept in the car’s cavernous trunk on overnight
trips. Lindgren learned from Sonny that the car would happily cruise at 60
mph.

The round-cornered razor grille and teardrop-shaped headlamps of the
1941 Willys perfectly harmonize with the car’s bow-edged hood. Note the Americar
name on the leading edge of the hood.
By this time, the use of
Willyses as good drag machines was well-known, and Sonny must have been tempted
to check out the drag racing experience for himself. In 1968, he took the
still-stock car to the Thunder Valley Drag Strip and entered it in U/Stock where
he was pitted against a VW Beetle. While the Willys made an impressive show of
spinning one of its rear tires, it lost the race to the Beetle. Luckily, that
was the end of this Willys’ gasser experience.
In 1972, Sonny decided to
start a construction business, so he placed a “for sale” sign in the Willys’
window. While in Sioux Falls, the car caught the attention of Joe Castle, a
service station owner. Castle bought the car for $1,500 and scratched his name
in the trunk before selling it four years later. Thanks to his mark, Lindgren
was able to trace each of the car’s owners and nearly all of its blemishes,
right down to a ding on the front fender.

Note how the seal between the door vent glass and
side glass is incorporated into the side window for a clean and sporty look with
the windows down.
Word of Castle’s ownership of the Willys
spread as far as California, and around 1976, he received a call from Ted
Shafer, a jazz musician in San Francisco’s Ted Shafer’s Jelly Roll Jazz Band,
asking if Castle would sell the car. Shafer already owned a 1941 Willys sedan
and wanted to add a coupe to his collection, but was having a difficult time
finding a stock Willys coupe in California. After Castle agreed to put new tires
on the car and fix a dent in the trunk lid (the car’s only known paint work), a
deal was struck, and Shafer flew up to South Dakota with the intent to drive the
Willys back. He got as far as the border between Utah and Nevada when the engine
seized. Apparently, Shafer forgot to check the oil, so after the car was
flat-bedded to San Francisco, its engine was rebuilt when the odometer read
36,000 miles.
Shafer sold the car in the latter part of the 1970s, though
he can’t recall why, and it passed through several other California owners’
hands. One of those owners worked at an aquatic park where the car would attract
more than its share of looks in the parking lot. By the 1980s, the Willys was
anything but camera shy, after having had so many lenses pointed at
it.
Californian Willys owner Dexter Bennett first spotted the unrestored
’41 coupe in 1987 from one of the many photographs snapped of the car. Bennett
ran across the photograph a second time in 1989 and felt inspired to track it
down through its license plate. Police were able to give him a name and address
for the owner, so Bennett took this information to a title company to track down
the phone number. After making several phone calls and sending many letters to
the owner, Bennett bought the car without ever having seen it in
person.

The dimensions of the Willys’ frame and its body shell were largely
unchanged from 1937 to 1942, and because the Willys’ wheelbase was stretched
from 100 inches in 1937 and ‘38 to 102 inches in 1939 and 104 inches in 1941 and
‘42, the rear wheels are not centered in the wheel opening on later cars.
Although the car’s third set of whitewalls have yellowed with time, its owner
has been encouraged to leave them on the car to add to its
patina.
“In the spring of 1991, Dexter [Bennett] and two
friends set out on the five-hour drive one-way to pick up the car,” Lindgren
said. “As that garage door opened, I can only imagine what was going through
Dexter’s mind at the time. There sat an original, stock, all-steel, uncut
[Willys].”
In the nine years Bennett owned the Willys, he replated the
bumpers, polished the stainless trim and went through the car’s mechanic bits
with the goal of preservation.
“He even went as far as reproducing dash
knobs, the trunk mat and rubber bushings and grommets exactly as original,”
Lindgren said.
Rumors began to circulate in the late 1990s of Bennett’s
interest in selling the Willys. Since Lindgren was already resurrecting a period
gasser and was driving a stock 1942 sedan, he was tightly tied into the Willys
clubs and acted on the rumors by contacting Bennett.
“[Sellers] don’t
advertise their Willys for sale much,” Lindgren said. “They’re sold under the
wraps. It’s difficult to buy a stock one, and if you mention ‘hot rod’ to the
seller, you’re probably not going to get one.”
But already owning a stock
Willys wasn’t enough to sway Bennett into signing the title over to Lindgren, at
least right away.
“[The owner] was more eccentric than most of them, but
he knew I had an interest in originality,” Lindgren said. “I had to actually
prove myself and that I was not going to hot rod the [car].”
It took a
while for Lindgren and Bennett to get to know each other, but it was time well
spent. After several phone calls over an extended period of time, Bennett agreed
to sell the Willys to Lindgren.
With the sale price agreed upon, it was
only a matter of shipping the Willys from Bennett’s California home to
Lindgren’s Minnesota garage. But there was one hitch — Lindgren hadn’t seen the
car in person, and Bennett was reluctant to ship it before Lindgren could lay
eyes on it.
“I think he thought I thought I was going to get it and think
it was going to be a pristine show car,” Lindgren said. But the Minnesotan knew
it was a 60-year-old survivor and was confident the South Dakota and California
climates had preserved it well. He was not disappointed, although he grew
nervous when the car arrived at his home.
“When the truck pulled up, I
started getting a little freaked out, because it was a lot of money for a car I
hadn’t seen personally,” Lindgren admitted. However, several friends Lindgren
trusted had seen the car and had walked away impressed. Lindgren had also seen
the car in a video.
When the enclosed carrier opened up, Lindgren’s
nerves got to him. Was the video as thorough as he’d hoped? Were his friends’
definitions of a “nice” car the same as his? He was about to find
out.

The upholstery and much of the interior remains as original as the
outside. By the owner’s count, the car is on its third set of seat covers over
the original seat material. The door pull straps were a $1.75
option.
“When it showed up, it was in the middle of the truck
with a plastic car cover on it, and I started getting weak in the knees,” he
said. “But as soon as I could see [how nice] the rear fender down by the door
was, I was so happy. It was everything I thought it would be as a
survivor.”
There were some problems, however. The car’s brake pedal went
down to the floor, and there were no keys to go with the car or gas in the tank.
It seems Bennett hadn’t trusted sending the car with its keys and title, but he
perfectly timed the shipping of all the items. The keys arrived in the mail just
behind the semi loaded with the Willys.
“That night, I looked out the
garage door [to see the car] about 50 times all night,” Lindgren
said.
Once the car was nestled in its new home, Lindgren began to make it
a little bit better than it arrived, but he, too, worked on it with preservation
rather than restoration in mind.
“It’s had some stuff redone, but even a
65-year-old man has had a little dental work done, too,” he said. In the years
he’s owned the Willys coupe, Lindgren has merely washed and tinkered with
it...and driven it!
“I went through the brakes and put a correct radio in
it, but I did not put an antenna on it because you have to put holes [in the
body]. The hood never fit right, which you can see in old photos, so I had to do
a little tweaking to get it to fit like it should,” he said.
Lindgren has
liked Willyses since he saw a picture of Ohio George Montgomery’s ’33 Willys
coupe model kit as a kid. He even thought to himself, “Some day I’ll own one.”
Yet he freely admits that Willyses were economy cars built with frugality in
mind.
“These were Kleenex cars — use ’em up and throw ’em away,” he said.
“They were a cheap car built in a depressed time in Toledo. A lot of people
think that hot rodding used up all these cars, and [while] a great majority were
rodded, I think hot rodding saved a lot of them. Otherwise, they would have been
crushed.”
But hot rodding is something that will never happen to this car
as long as it’s parked in Lindgren’s garage.
“You’ve got to keep the
[Willys] survivors the way they are,” Lindgren said. “A lot of people would have
taken it to a hot rodder and not given it a second thought as to what the
history of the car is or where it came from.”
Because he’s connected with
Willys collectors, Lindgren estimates there are approximately 15 unrestored and
driving 1940-’42 Willys coupes known to Willys zealots. There are probably only
a handful more restored Willys coupes, so leaving a car like this untouched
helps explain the rarely explored history of the marque.
“The rocker
panels on my car are completely different from other 1941 Willys rocker panels,”
he said. “It’s a very late serial-numbered car, so it could have been one of the
last ’41s. The 1941s came standard with rocker panels, and running boards were
optional. In ’42, running boards were standard, and rocker panels were optional.
Coming out of the Depression and going into war times, who knows how these ended
up on this car?”
For Lindgren, part of the joy of owning the unrestored
Willys comes from the reaction of crowds who see the 54,000-mile coupe when he
shows it.
“Every kid looks at it, and everyone [else] who looks at it
says, ‘I’d like to get a Willys,’ ” Lindgren said. “For some reason, these
things grab a hold of you.”
And it’s clear this one isn’t letting go of
Lindgren’s affection anytime soon.