The cleverly designed Studebaker Lark didn’t save the company, but it did buy a few more years for the proud Indiana automaker.
For 1959, Studebaker pulled another rabbit out of its hat. Faced with falling volume and rapidly fading resources, the South Bend carmaker took its aged and obsolete passenger car line and with some clever slicing and dicing, transformed it into a trendy and stylish compact. The Lark beat the compacts of the Big Three to the market by nearly a year, racking up some much-needed sales for the struggling manufacturer.
You might never notice it in a casual inspection, but the Lark’s body structure was in fact the center section of the aged ’53-’58 Studebaker sedan. And it was mounted on the familiar Studebaker ladder-frame chassis, but with its wheelbase shortened from 116.5 to 108.5 inches. Design chief Duncan McRae and his small crew also took big slices out of the front and rear overhangs, reducing the overall length by nearly 28 inches. The resulting package was actually a bit shorter than the Rambler American, but with a cabin roughly the size of a full-sized Ford, Chevy, or Plymouth.
Despite the Lark’s Falcon-ish exterior dimensions, Studebaker positioned the new model not as a compact, exactly, but as a rational in-between size. “It strikes a smart, sensible balance between the 5/8 size foreign imports and the oversize U.S. models. . . It has eliminated what you don’t need: useless overhang, excess bulk, and wasteful dead weight,” the South Bend copywriters sang. The tune struck a chord with the car-buying public, as sales soared from around 45,000 for the 1958 model year to more than 130,000 units in 1959.
The Lark wasn’t the first small Studebaker to save the company, of course. In the years before World War II, the 1939 Champion had served a similar role. Studebaker-Packard president Harold Churchill reportedly used the Champion as inspiration when he gave the Lark program the green light. By reinventing itself as a maker of smaller, smarter cars, Studebaker bought a precious few more years.
The Lark was offered in four standard body styles that first year: two-door sedan, four-door sedan, a two-door pillarless hardtop, and a two-door-wagon, the wagon on a slightly longer 113-inch wheelbase. A convertible and a four-door wagon were added later. There were two trim levels, Deluxe and Regal, and two available engines: a 169.6 CID flathead six with 90 hp, and the 259 CID V8 with 180 hp. For a little extra class, the six-cylinder cars were designated VI and the V8s were labeled VIII. For an extra $48, buyers could fit the V8 with a Carter WCFB four-barrel carb and dual exhausts, boosting the output to 195 hp at 4,500 rpm.
Sales remained strong in 1960 at more than 125,000 units, but by 1961 the Lark’s numbers were in steep decline—down to not quite 65,000 cars. By that time the Ford Falcon, Chevrolet Corvair, and Chrysler/Plymouth Valiant were established in the marketplace, and General Motors had launched the successful Buick Special, Olds F-85, and Pontiac Tempest senior compacts. There was no more room for Studebaker. Alas, the Indiana carmaker was being squeezed out of the compact category, just like everywhere else. For 1965, the Lark name was retired.
I never knew the base for the Lark was a regular Studebaker! Those guys sure knew how to recycle. First the Hawk, then the Lark.
To my mind, the Lark’s problem was that it was stodgy looking. The Valiant was no prize, but the Falcon looked fresh and the Corvair had a youthful appearance. The Tempest, F-85, Special et al were more stylish still. The Lark always looked boxy, like a Fifties version of the Chevy II. They desperately needed their 1966 styling in 1963.
Looking at what AMC and Studebaker pulled out of their hat sometimes makes me wonder why, with all their resources, GM kept running down the same road when they were approaching bankruptcy. Ford has shown some daring by dropping all sedans. I don’t know if that’s the right move, but that’s the Detroit I want to see.
Here in Oz the Fishshop Falcon[61-65] looked homely in comparison the the Valiant and Holden. And were not blessed with reliability or resale.
Studes were a step or two up and again had little resale.Ok car but looked dated even when new.
It has taken near 60 years but I am starting to appreciate those early Falcons.
On the day after Thanksgiving 1969, my dad presented me with a well-used 1960 Lark VIII Station Wagon he had bought for $75. Having gotten my drivers license only 4 months earlier, my previous ride was a worn-out 1959 Ford Custom 300 with the 223 six and three on the tree – it was a gutless wonder, but a fairly normal-looking car,
However, the thought of driving into the high school parking lot in this Lark Station Wagon had me hanging my head in shame. I thought it was one of the ugliest cars I’d seen, and there was definitely no cool factor associated with a station wagon. On top of that, it was a Studebaker, a brand that no longer produced cars.
My feelings began to change when I drove the Lark. The V8 behind the automatic tranny was surprisingly peppy, and I quickly learned that while some thought it was a goofy-looking car, others thought it had a campy sort of cool vibe.
The mistreatment that car took during the time I drove it is something I will never forget. After about 9 months, I let the engine seize from a lack of oil. I ended up putting two more engines in the car, but neither one had the guts of the original unit.
Was the wagon one of those where the roof over the cargo area slid back? I always thought that was a great idea but I’ve read that it was leaky and not well executed. GM brought back the idea about a decade ago but it quickly disappeared. Either it’s difficult to implement or I’m the only one who likes it.
Andy, my ’60 wagon did not have the sliding roof option. I am thinking that particular item may have been introduced during the 1963 model year. I do like them, wouldn’t mind having one, but I’ve also heard about the leaks.
The 59 and 60 Larks had an interesting customer base, not the usual past Studebaker buyer. Other brands dealers dueled with Studebaker and the car became the darling of the second and third car suburban buyers, especially the wagon, HT and rag tops. The Larks were real good cars, the six and V-8’s were solid motors, and they served their owners well. I don’t think at that point in the company’s history they could have done much more to save the auto operation, the GT Hawk was a good effort, as was the Avanti.
Seems to me that Studebaker could have taken over the whole world if they’d wanted to- they were quick off the mark when it mattered and must have had great management to be able to do so much with so little.
One peculiar thing about my Lark wagon was the linkage for the gas pedal. There was a round hole in the floorboard. An aluminum rod went through the hole and fastened to the linkage on the front side of the firewall, a cotter key to hold it in place. The other end of the rod had a round shape sort of like a ball on the top – this ball inserted into a pre-formed indention on the bottom of the gas pedal. There was a pre-formed round rubber boot that filled the hole in the floorboard, keeping out the smells from the engine compartment, night to mention the cold air in the winter.
Due to rust in the floorboard, my gas pedal actually fell off when the screws rusted away. Thankfully, the rubber boot kept the aluminum rod in about the same position so that I could still drive the car. However, the boot had also rotted with age and after about a week, it just disintegrated, leaving the aluminum rod perched on the rim of the floorboard hole. Over the next few days, the rod began to take on a bent shape from being jammed by my heavy foot.
Finally, I jammed it extra hard one night and the rod fell completely through the hole. I had to coast into a parking lot because I couldn’t accelerate the car. The guy that was with me had little hands with thin fingers, and he was able to finally find the rod and fish it back through the hole. We limped home, being careful not to jam the gas pedal. The next day, I purchased a new aluminum rod and gas pedal boot. Lesson learned.