The name Tucker strikes a chord in the heart of every true car enthusiast. One of the final hand-built models to roll off the line, Tucker no. 1043 is probably the last car to be fully restored out of 47 total Tuckers remaining today. Upon completion of its restoration in 2003, it made its first public appearance at the Meadow Brook Concours d'Elegance, where it captured the "Innovation Through Leadership Award." The car is in absolutely exceptional overall condition, essentially flawless and in better than new condition, arguably the best restored Tucker in existence.
The SCM Analysis
This car sold for $495,000 at the RM Arizona auction, January 23, 2004.
There is a short list of celebrated figures in the automobile business I would have liked to have met and known, but sadly, most of them have long since passed away. Just imagine Walter P. Chrysler showing off the Airflow, or spending a few days with Sir Henry Royce or Ettore Bugatti talking engineering, or Fred and August Duesenberg telling racing secrets now lost to history. All great stuff indeed. But if I had a wayback machine, I can think of no one I would more like to buy a beer for than Preston Tucker.
Six feet tall, handsome and a sharp dresser, at various times in his life Tucker was an office boy at Cadillac, a policeman, a race car builder, an inventor, a salesman, and a defense contractor, as well as an automobile manufacturer. He also managed to become one of the most talked-about, controversial, and colorful characters of the mid-20th century.
As an office boy, Tucker impressed by putting on roller skates and delivering the intra-office mail quicker than anyone else—until he turned a blind corner on his skates, directly into his boss. As a police officer in a Detroit suburb, Tucker assembled an impressive record of bringing in bootleggers running booze from Canada. He got into hot water on that job for punching a hole in the firewall of an unheated squad car to run heat off the manifold.
Tucker built successful race cars with legendary constructor Harry A. Miller, and was the father of the Tucker Tiger, a crossbreed of a Jeep, a tank and a race car, a vehicle able to go an unheard-of 118 mph. Though rejected by the military, its innovative turret top became the basis for those used in World War II aircraft. Ypsilanti Machine and Tool Company, owned by Tucker, produced many of the turrets.
Tucker once took a dog in trade on a car deal, earning him a reputation as one of the original "outside the box" thinkers, a reputation that would lead to jobs with Studebaker, Ford, Stutz, Chrysler, and Pierce-Arrow. A hustler all of his life, his reputation for going to almost any length to get a deal done would be not only his greatest asset, but would also lead to his eventual downfall.
Long before the end of World War II, Tucker set about acquiring a lease on one of the largest buildings under a single roof, the 93-acre Dodge Cicero Avenue plant on the South Side of Chicago. Used to build B-29 aircraft motors for the war effort, it became surplus when hostilities ceased. Tucker's dream was to build an entirely new car there, one that would encompass not only radical styling but also the latest in technology and safety, at an affordable price. The advertising tag line, "The first completely new car in fifty years," was telling in many ways.
The distinctive looking, rear-engined fastback was developed by Tucker, along with automotive stylist and designer Alex Tremulis of Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg fame. The prototype, affectionately nicknamed "The Tin Goose" by workers, was built in just 100 days. Because of a wartime lack of modeling clay, it was made of steel, largely by hand.
The Tucker was to be powered by a massive 589-ci,
