Bushwacking in the Muntz Jet--There Is A God

Growing up in small towns after World War II gave millions of us, the Baby Boomers by labels, opportunities to run free in our neighborhoods, streets, and alleys. We were warned what kind of people we must look out for. In Miami, Oklahoma, we called him the “man on the bicycle.”  Parents and rumors spread that he might ask girls especially to ride on the bike with him. We were told to run away and tell the nearest adult. That was the Biggest Fear we carried with us as we explored creeks, rivers, the other side of town, and friendly neighborhoods where we knew to be home by dark or else. 

After all of these years, I finally found a picture of our Metallic Mustard colored Muntz Jet, parked in our driveway in Miami, Oklahoma in 1957. 

One Saturday night my parents gave me the keys to the Muntz. My plan was to take Judy Scruggs and go “BUSHWACKING” at Riverview Park. My father, Johnie Stapp, had a Highway Patrol headlight on both sides of the Muntz, so the driver or the passenger could reach out and maneuver the bright light. He also had a loud horn that sounded like a “moo cow” in pain, that frightened people.

The Muntz Jet was originally a metallic Mustard color until dad painted it white, then black, then baby blue. 

Our plan that night was to drive through the park looking for lovers parked in the dark.  We would then flash the bright light on them and hit the horn in hopes of scaring the life out of them. I knew we could outrun any car in town. But some plans don’t produce the outcome expected.

Turning off the highway and down into the dark of Riverview Park on the west side where lovers could often be found necking, we drove slowly with the dimmers on. I noticed the closer we drove to the water’s edge of the Neosho River, the muddier it became until I felt a sinking sensation.

The Muntz, already low to the ground with two steel beams on either side for support, stopped in the mud and refused to move. …. How could I have forgotten that the park often flooded with spring rains?

Instead of looking for lovers we used the search lights to look for help. Then out of nowhere a tow truck from B&M Motors appeared. The men, the Meyers brothers,  knew exactly who I was and also knew that Dad would ground me for life if he ever learned of this episode.

Being small town trustworthy and caring men, they hooked up the Muntz, pulled it out of the mud, and towed us to their business on South Main, Route 66, where they washed down the car and sent me on my way. Never a word was spoken to dad about that night.

I’m not sure of the exact lesson I learned other than people are there for you, to assist and help in many ways; or perhaps it was God and a band of angels who laughed out loud at our misery and sent the Good Samaritans that night.

I believe this experience must have been the spring of 1964 or 1965. 

Last year, Tom Pat Wilson sent me a link to the story behind the story of the making of the Muntz and why it never made money for Mad Man Muntz.  I thought it was a rather sad story because the Muntz held nothing but good memories for me.  Click on this link for the story of Mad Man Muntz and his failed endeavor to build the best race car ever—

https://www.google.com/search?q=the+failure+of+the+muntz+jet&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS1150US1179&oq=the+failure+of+the+muntz+jet&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIHCAEQIRigATIHCAIQIRigATIHCAMQIRigATIHCAQQIRirAjIHCAUQIRifBTIHCAYQIRifBTIHCAcQIRifBTIHCAgQIRifBTIHCAkQIRiPAtIBCTczMDdqMGoxNagCCLACAfEFVQI1AWMbdiw&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:353d3b84,vid:su7hp1or2rM,st:0 If this link doesn’t work please google The Failure of the Muntz.

For another true story of the Muntz click on this link:  Turnpike Race of 1957

The Muntz and the Turnpike Race of 1957

George Coleman, Jr. carried a great deal of influence in the small boom town of Miami, Oklahoma. His interests in life extended from the golf course to the race track, from lead and zinc mining to business interest in Penzoil Company, Chris Craft Industries, Ben Hogan Company, and more. George and my father, Johnie F. Stapp, met in 1954 when my father was hired as the golf professional for the Miami, Ok, Golf and Country Club, Miami, Ok. 

In 1957 my father bought The Muntz from Lou Newell, who at that time owned Sky Ranch and a famous stud horse named Johnny Dial  Lou had bought the car in Indianapolis. (Contrary to rumors this car was not a pace car for the Indianapolis 500, as reported in my childhood.)

The car was built in 1951 by Mad Man Muntz. In the late 1940's a nationally known race car wizard, Frank Kurtis, who eventually developed a number of Indianapolis 500 winners, designed and built about 20 aluminum-bodied two-seater sports cars. Kurtis, however, lacked production resources, so Muntz stepped in and bought the manufacturing right. Muntz redesigned the car that was soon dubbed the Muntz Jet. He stretched the wheelbase, put in a back seat, replaced the Ford engines with Cadillac V-8's, added padded dashboards and seat belts, painted the cars in bright Easter egg colors, and even installed liquor and ice cabinets. (Our center console held beer, but I don't recall that it was a liquor cabinet, merely space between the bucket seats, where mom and dad could hide their beers on the way to Minnie and Milts Dinner Restaurant in Joplin.)

 Bob Hill retold this story recently. Your dad must have bought the car in 1956, and it was well known to be one of the fastest cars on the road with a Cadillac V-8 engine. Bob and his buddies heard a rumor that George Coleman, Jr., challenged Johnie to a race. The Will Rogers Turnpike was not open to traffic in the spring of 1957, but the road was open and cleared for traffic. The holdup being the finishing touches on the Glass House over the turnpike near Vinita. 

George Coleman, Jr. bought a new 1955 Chrysler 300 with push button transmission and decided to drive it back to Miami and challenge his golfing friend and race car buddy, Johnie Stapp, to a race between his new Chrysler 300 and the Muntz Jet. 

The two men and their fast cars arrived at the turnpike intending to race full speed from Miami to Vinita. Without proof, I am sure there was a gallery of people present to see the pro and George race.  

Bob and his buddies decided to ride their bikes to the first overpass between Miami and Vinita, so they could watch the race. By the time they arrived the race was over.

In the end, the pair never even made it Afton. The Chrysler outperformed the Muntz because of the newer faster engine and the push button transmission. It was made to travel. The Muntz was a dragster and drove well on the straight-out fast track. 

Shortly after the race, during my fourth-grade year in school, we moved to 209 H. N.E. where dad had a two-car garage. I'm sure it was during that year 57-58 that dad bought a Chrysler 300 engine and the guys at B & B garage worked many hours to install the new engine. Dad could always be found tinkering with his car in that old garage. My sister and I spent evenings watching dad or doing our best to help and yet, stay out of the way.

MORE TRUE MEMORIES OF THE MUNTZ:  

Muntz Interior

Jim Taylor, son of Gob Taylor, personal memory of riding in the Muntz on Highway 66.

This event occurred with Pat Temple when Johnie took the two of us on a little ride going to Commerce and back on Highway 66. I believe this was a 1951 Muntz and was well capable of speeds in excess of 120 mph. Johnie also was an experienced race car driver and that Muntz looked hot to Pat and me. We were always asking Johnie to drive us around. Hence, he finally succumbed to giving us a ride and off we went. 

 When we got to Highway 66, we were really riding him to show us something. He did, he drove that Muntz right between two cars at 65 mph or so and he floored that Muntz and we flew through them. Scared me thoroughly as it did Pat, and we did not ask again. However, it was evident that Johnie knew well how to drive a race car. That Muntz was a state-of-the-art car in the early 1950's.

Jim Burford, son of John and Lucille Burford, shared this personal story: 

Jim told me that my dad was always his hero, not for the golf but for his racing passion. Jim became fascinated with how dad modified engines, like the Muntz, to go flat out 160 down the turnpike or late night roads like the one that connected Ben Stanley's corner on Route 66 to the east and back to the Fairgrounds. It was a lonely dark road until the boys and men challenged each other to drag races. Once, again it was the mechanics at B&B Garage on South Main, who kept dad's car rolling along. 

Our Muntz Jet was originally a mustard color that I now see on some of the new smaller cars. The interior was also rolled and pleated mustard color leather. Later, dad painted it shinny black. Next, it became baby blue and the interior was changed to match it. No matter which color the Highway Patrol found him on Route 66 or the Will Rogers Turnpike. They knew his car and his name personally. 

To me the car was always that vivid mustard color. My personal story of the Muntz can be read at Muntz at Literally Letty. 

This video may vividly show you what my words cannot: 

The Failure of the Muntz Jet

Letter Series:

Chrysler first introduced the 300 back in 1955, and with the debut of that high-performance 4-seater some would say the idea of the muscle car was born. Over the next 10 years, Chrysler would bring to market a range of 300s now referred to as the “letter series,” starting with that first 300 and continuing on with the 300B, 300C, 300D — a new letter every year with the final 300L in 1965. These special Chrysler's were among the fastest production cars on the road, equipped with the latest in luxury features. Other 300 models followed the letter series, but none would ever be as special as those first versions.  Chrysler 300: a Brief History  

L.K. Newell went on to establish his now well-known Newell Coach .

L.K. Newell also was a noted Miami business man, who kept many Miami people employed over the decades:  L.K. Lou Newell, Business man

 

 

 

Miami Memories: The Muntz

1951 Muntz Jet.  Johnie Stapp's pride and joy.  

Most people knew my dad as the golf pro, but as his oldest daughter I also knew him as a race car driver; jokester; builder of cars and furniture; a man who loved to tinker with things.  Dad brought color and adventure to our lives through the people he met, the trips we made, and the stories he told.  

When I look back I most often cherish the memories my sister and I created through Dad's love of cars. The 1951 Muntz Jet was the epitome of race cars, adventure, and color. The true story of that car may never be known, but my memory says that Dad bought this car from Lou Newell, in Miami, Oklahoma.  It was rumored to have been the lead car in the 1952 Indianapolis 500, but when I wrote the letter of inquiry I found it to be a rumor only. They showed no record of this car.

The picture above shows it painted white, but when purchased it was a shiny sparkling Mustard color, consequently it was lovingly nicknamed "Mustard" by my little sister.  The car sat low to the ground with a wide wheel base, allowing it to travel up to speeds of 160 mph+ and offering a back seat in an original race car. The rolled and pleated leather seats and interior were a striking mustard color. 

"Mad Man Muntz, produced the first American sports car--the Muntz Jet.  A beautiful, well-crafted, speedy car that was a precursor of Chevrolet's Corvette, the Muntz Jet was an aesthetic and mechanical success, but Muntz's first financial disappointment.  The Jets sold for $5,500, but they cost $6,500 to produce, and this at a time, the early 50's, when a new Cadillac could be had for $3,200.  He installed Cadillac V-8 engines, added padded dashboards and seat belts, painted the cars in bright Easter egg colors, and even installed liquor and ice cabinets." The movie poster of Mad Man Muntz says, "7 wives, 3 fortunes...one of a kind."  His biography shows his entrepreneurial abilities and flamboyant lifestyle.
Mad Man Muntz info
Mad Man Muntz

The mustard car lived with us through our teenage years when Jonya and I were allowed to drive it, because the seat belts were required.  Dad painted it several times:  a sleek black, then white, and in its final years baby blue.  If our car had a liquor cabinet I don't remember, but I do remember that in the 50's, when Oklahoma was dry, dad and mom made a regular beer and liquor run to Seneca, Missouri and the state line liquor stores to purchase alcohol for the MGCC. We always buckled up, as dad drove the black asphalt Highway 10 in speeds up to 100 mph.  Our drives back were most miserable as my sister and I sat on a scratchy old wool army green blanket that covered the hidden beer and liquor in the back seat.  On the drive home Dad obeyed the speed limit.

The Muntz also came with a convertible top hard top.  In the summer months the padded hard top could be removed and hung in our garage.  Minnie's and Milts was a well-known dance and dinner club in Joplin, Missouri.  We often made the trip in the summer with the top down and mother complaining all the way that her hair would be ruined by the wind, but we never complained even when the wind whipped our hair into our eyes and stung.  We loved the old drive through pneumonia gulch somewhere between Miami and Joplin on the backroads, and before there was a turnpike. Pneumonia gulch was cold, no matter how hot the day had been when the car sped down the hill and took the turn up the hill and to the right, we screamed in pure joy and thrill of feeling the car hold the ground and climb the hill. Every breath was filled with fresh air, moisture from the nearby streams and rivers, and the dampness of the wooded areas. 

I was twelve years old, the night Dad ditched the Muntz in the embankment nearing Twin Bridges.  Dad was traveling way to fast to take the final curve on Hwy 137  and down to the right to Hwy 60.  He somehow applied the brakes with enough force that the car spun then skidded into the ditch on the right.  A slide to the left would have left us airborne, and no one to tell this story.  I wasn't scared until I heard my father's voice ask, "Tizzie are you alright?"  I might have cried, but like a trooper I rallied, and we backed out and drove down to Twin Bridges and fished that night.  

Still, my father, zany and flamboyant, like Mad Man Muntz, didn't slow down. Incredibly, I was with him when he hit the top speed of 160 heading up the newly opened Will Rogers Turnpike to Joplin. He taught me to drive in a white Ford station wagon with a "mud flap" on the back, mom's car, but he also let me drive the Muntz on the turnpike with him.  I drove with the understanding that if "ticketed" that I would pay the cost!  The engine changed over the years, like the color, but speed was always it's strength.

There are other stories in heaven now with Dad, Doc Jackson, Dr. Baron, Mickey Mantle, Ray and Roy Mantle plus other Yankee ball players and club members from the Miami Golf and Country Club.  I only wish I knew them.  

 Mad Man Muntz and his incredible car was a part of our lives till my parents died in 1989.  The steering wheel still showed the caricature and logo of Mad Man Muntz wearing a black Napoleon hat and red BVD's. The caricature that  could be found on the steering wheel is shown on this site:  
caricature of Mad Man Muntz



For a picture of the sleek car go to:  The Muntz.

Letty Stapp Watt
Johnie Stapp's daughter and historian