Chevy Corvette Stingray - The Corvette Diaries

No sooner had Chevrolet Division General Manager Bunkie Knudsen successfully launched the Corvette Sting Ray in the summer of 1962, he then faced an unforeseen and distracting source of conflict. Entries made earlier that year in his diary show that he had already considered quitting his job; the subject would arise again before too long. As usual, the friction was originating with Knudsen's boss, Ed Cole, who in Knudsen's words, "was on the wild pitches again."

To say Knudsen and Cole represented different ends of the spectrum is a feeble understatement, but it helps to explain their frequent clashes. Their arguments would lead Knudsen to consider the offer of Ford Motor Company's presidency, which came his way in early 1963. Yet the polarized opposition between the two men is only one reason Knudsen was bound to resist Cole's initiative for a four-passenger Corvette.

Like Father, Like Son ::Bunkie at the Detroit Athletic Club, standing by a portrait of him and his father, William "Big Bill" Knudsen. (c) 2007 GM Corp. Used with permission, GM Media Archive.

Knudsen grew up watching his father, William "Big Bill" Knudsen, rise to General Motors' presidency. Bunkie attended prep school and took his engineering degree at MIT. Meanwhile, Cole, a western Michigan farm boy, enrolled in General Motors Institute, but his engineering prowess was so great that he was pulled ahead into a job with Cadillac. He eventually procured many patents, including one for standing Chevy Vegas on their noses and loading them into trains. His son, the automotive industry analyst David Cole, remembers his father's constant sketching and tinkering. For relaxation, Cole hybridized orchids in his own greenhouse-probably, David thinks, because orchids represented the biggest challenge.

Although he had begun in the manufacturing business by working on the shop floor, Knudsen approached engineering questions from the patrician manager's perspective; he rarely attempted even a do-it-yourself project around his manorial house. He was devoted to golf, scoring in the low 80s on his home course in suburban Detroit's Bloomfield Hills. He began many a day at the duck marsh, and he fished for mackerel off the Florida coast.

Adding to his skepticism about Cole was what Knudsen regarded as a lack of personal integrity. Not only had he discovered the slush fund Cole had used to obtain Ford's advance production schedules, but he also caught scent of a series of deals that gave off funny odors. Cole's arrangements with an executive of the Western Pacific Railroad looked "peculiar" to Knudsen. The contract Cole helped to get for his friend Jim Robbins, a seatbelt supplier, "smell[ed] to high heaven." (Robbins will resurface later in this series in connection with the CERV II.) One day after lunch, Knudsen reported that Cole had "showed us all a diamond Chevrolet pin he got from some Frenchman. About three months ago, [GM exec Cy] Osborn told me about how the pin came into being. Certainly-it should not be accepted. It's quite valuable."

But Cole had earned tremendous loyalty among the engineering and design staffs, as well as great influence among the top corporate managers, who recognized his long record of accomplishment and ignored his escapades. Even when he was tossing out unusual ideas, there would be an audience. And so Knudsen had to engage in the fierce and enduring fight to kill the four-passenger Corvette.

The subject first arises in his diary on August 23, 1962, the day after the new Sting Ray's national press preview. Cole must have thought a four-place Vette made as much sense as a similar Ferrari. But Knudsen only whiffed another odd-smelling deal. He considered the car useless, yet he had to go to the mat with the beast. On August 28, he wrote, "Went to Styling-cleared up four-passenger Corvette-told them to buy a 2+2 Ferrari. Mitchell feels this has correct dimensions. I told Mitchell I'd go along with him on dimensions but I did not want a different front-end from the Corvette. He agreed."