Dad’s Woodie – The Classic Surf Mobile

by Felice Prager


According to everyone who knew him at the time, there were four things wrong with Dad’s Woodie.

First, the radio in it only played one station, and though my dad liked Montovani, Sinatra, and Dean Martin, when we were in the back of the Woodie, all we did was complain that Dad had bad taste in music. That was in between fighting over who sat where. We had never seen a car with so many rows of seats.

The second thing wrong with Dad’s Woodie was that it had a severe case of termites in the wood, very common in Woodies which were not cared for well. Dad had bought his second or third hand, and we did not have it very long, so my guess is that the neglect predated Dad’s ownership.

Third, and you might think this was the worst problem, Dad’s Woodie would only drive in reverse, which caused a major scene in our neighborhood when Dad eventually backed it into the woods behind our apartment complex and could not get it to go forward to get it out.

However, the fourth and worst problem to everyone, especially my mom and the superintendent at the apartment complex, was my dad’s refusal to part with it. He had it towed from the woods into a parking space where he let it sit and rot until the city finally towed Dad’s Woodie away. We never actually knew who made the call complaining about it, but I am sure if we had a lie detector test available, my mother would fail.

To those who remember the uniquely styled vehicle, the Woodie evokes images of the beach and surfing. My husband, who grew up on the New Jersey shore claims they could fit a mattress, a case of beer, and six surfboards up on top of the roof. I never asked him what the purpose of having a mattress in the back was; I never asked if he took a nap after a day of big waves. In fact, my husband talks about his days of surfing a lot, but I have never actually seen him up on a board.

The Woodie was carryover from the days of wooden wagons of the 1800’s. Wooden construction of automobiles predates the Woodie era, as wooden bodies were around long before the Woodies we know of today. Until the 1920’s, Woodies were station wagons that provided transportation of goods and people to and from the railroad station, as trains were the most common and reliable form of transportation from town to town in this era. Thus, it was nicknamed the Depot Hack.
 
Until 1929, Woodies were not a part of automobile manufacturers' regular catalogs of body styles. Woodies were sold as work vehicles, primarily as trucks. In 1921, Ford broke new ground when Henry Ford opened a lumber mill in Iron Mountain, Michigan. In this mill, Ford processed the lumber that was to be used by contracted firms in the construction of the bodies of Ford's cars. Ford was the only car manufacturer not to outsource for wood parts. By the 1930’s, wood construction costs had surpassed those of all-metal construction vehicles, and the Woodie became the plaything of the rich. The station wagon became an estate wagon.

After World War II, the Woodie was recognized and sought by the masses, even though the automotive industry could not produce enough vehicles to satisfy the demand. Sales of Woodies peaked by the early 1950’s, by which point, the wood on the vehicles was becoming simulated. The Woodie Car Club of America recognizes 1948 as the last year of the Woodie, but most Woodie enthusiasts agree that the 1953 Buick Roadmaster was the last real American Woodie actually relying on wooden construction of structural components.

I have no idea what year my Dad’s Woodie was made or who the manufacturer was, but his was most definitely an authentic Woodie, proven by the fact that the termites moved in and never moved out. Deep holes and trails could be seen in the wood by those brave enough to get close to the vehicle.

In the 1960’s, Woodies saw a rebirth in popularity through imitation and salvage. The wooden bodies of most Woodies had been neglected and had fallen into a various stages of decay. Wooden bodies require meticulous care in order to preserve them, including refinishing the wood every year. Owners rapidly lost interest in vehicles requiring so much care, and a surplus of rotten-bodied vehicles became available.

Surfers requiring large vehicles to haul their boards found great deals on abandoned Woodies, thus creating a classic vehicle as seen in the beach movies of that era. Imitation extended the life of the Woodie even longer, every time a manufacturer attempts to introduce wood accents on vehicles. It is not uncommon to hear potential owners of vehicles say to a car salesman, “I don’t want wood on my new car. Remember the Woodie?”

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