Monday, May. 23, 1949

No Sale

Into Chicago's Congress Hotel one night last week trooped some 200 members of the Greater Chicago Used Car Dealers Association. They were a gloomy lot. Their sales had dropped steadily since autumn; with plenty of new cars around, used-car prices had plummeted as much as one-third since last June. The dealers had hoped that the warm weather would give their business its usual seasonal upswing.

This year it did nothing of the sort; instead, business got worse.

It was the same all over the U.S. Along Detroit's Livernois Avenue, the used-car center of the Midwest, buyers were scarce. Bert Baker, one of the biggest U.S. independent dealers in the business, had gone $96,000 into the red since November and his huge lot looked empty. He had only 110 cars on display v. nearly 400 in November. Like other dealers, Bert had been unloading his stock as fast as he could, even at a loss. He had cut his payroll from 161 to 31; even so, his men had time, as well as cars, on their hands.

On Dallas' Ross Avenue, Dealer Gene Goss ("Goss on Ross, the Tradin' Hoss") was just as idle. In San Francisco, "Horse Trader" Ed Shapiro, the city's biggest used-car dealer, was singing the blues. He had cut the price of an "almost new" 1948 Buick convertible, which he bought six months ago, from $3,295 to $2,395--and he still had it. Not long ago he sold "new-used" Packards for $200 above list price; now he is getting $800 below list. Among 1949 cars, only the Chevrolet still commanded a premium (about $300) over list price. Many a lot was loaded with heavier, costlier cars, hard to move at any price.

In Chicago, the blight had fallen on Herbert J. Robinson, "The Angel of Broadway," who expanded into four stores after the war with the slogan: "The Angel is spreading his wings." Last week Robinson had a new slogan: "The Angel's wings are clipped." To stir up business, he planned to send airplanes up over Chicago's ballparks, scattering $10 credit slips through the crowds. Elsewhere, other dealers had tried similar stunts in vain. Manhattan's Herman & Ross offered free television sets "with the next 25 cars we sell"--but sold none. Seven Dallas dealers lured 5,000 people to a joint used-car auction with a $1,000 giveaway show, but sold few cars.

Nobody expected a pickup soon. In spite of the Ford strike, new cars were rolling out of Detroit at a rate of more than 5,000,000 a year. Some new car dealers were feeling a sag in their own sales (Kaiser-Frazer Corp. this week reported a $5.8 million loss in the first quarter). They were once more offering bigger trade-in allowances than they could get for the used cars. By summer's end, some of 1949's new cars would be showing up on used-car lots, to add to the glut. Both new-and used-car dealers would probably have to cut their prices still more.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.