Low, sleek, and stunning, the
bright red coupe with the egg-crate grille might appear at first to be the work
of an established coachbuilder adorning, most likely, a Ferrari chassis.
Dramatic and somewhat brutish, it is at the same time delicate, projecting a
look of graceful motion even when at rest. Few would argue if it were passed off
as the work of Vignale’s stylists, or perhaps the artisans of Carrozzeria
Touring. Few designers outside the exclusive design houses of Italy could have
managed the purity of form and exquisite detailing displayed here.
A look inside the tight cockpit would only reinforce the
initial impression of Italian origin. From the wood-rim steering wheel to the
large, round dials ahead of the driver to the row of five smaller gauges spread
across the dashboard, the latter flanked by an array of small toggle switches,
it is clear that this is the product of one of the masters of sports car design
and construction.
But almost as soon as those unfamiliar with this coupe’s story
have determined what it must be, the impression is shattered, either by the
starting of its engine, which emits the basso rumble of a very large American
V-8 and not the snarl of a high-winding V-12, or by rapping knuckles on the
coachwork, which is fiberglass and not aluminum. (Click image to enlarge)
Those sensations lead to a close look at the discreet cloisonné
badges, which proclaim this to be the work of Carrozzeria Bosley. Though it ends
in a sometime vowel, Bosley clearly is not an Italian name. In fact, the Bosley
Mark I and its successor, the Bosley Interstate, were created in Mentor, Ohio,
where Richard Bosley worked in his family’s nursery business. Neither car was
commissioned by or built for Bosley; he did the hard work himself, from initial
design right through connecting the battery and coaxing his creations to
life.
Bosley’s passion for high-performance cars formed at an early
age. He was present as a volunteer worker at the first race held at the Sebring,
Fla., airport circuit in 1950; he returned in March 1952 to watch Sebring’s
first 12-hour race, which eventually would become America’s premier sports car
race. He owned a couple of the hottest cars of the day: first, an Oldsmobile 88,
and later, after seeing a picture of actor Clark Gable standing next to a
low-slung British import, a Jaguar XK120.
But Bosley wanted more. He saw the first few Ferraris to appear at Sebring,
the powerful Chrysler-powered coupes and roadsters built by American sportsman Briggs Cunningham, a
sprinkling of Maseratis and other exotica. Like many other Americans who were
then getting their first taste of small, lightweight, stylish machines built for
speed, Bosley wanted something racy. He soon discovered that the price of
admission to the ranks of Ferrari owners was considerably higher than he could
pay. At that point, most people would be content with what they have. Bosley
admits that his 120 was a superb car, though not totally satisfying. (Click image to enlarge)
Top and bottom photos: The Bosley Mark I blends
many design details into a seductive styling exercise every bit as beautiful as
the best period offerings from Touring, Vignale, and Zagato. (
Click images to enlarge)
Instead, Bosley decided to build his own sports car, beginning
what would become a three-year project. Though he would use some production-line
parts, the majority of the work—fabricating body and chassis, assembly, and
finish work—would be his responsibility. When he is asked what led him to think
he could tackle so complex a job, Bosley says, "I built models, so I was sure I
could build a complete car."
That remark might sound fatuous if uttered by anyone else, but
Bosley backed up his enthusiasm by rolling up his sleeves and getting to work.
In those days, fiberglass was something of an unknown quantity in the automotive
field, so he journeyed to nearby Ashtabula, where a company that would later
produce bodies for early Chevrolet Corvettes was making simpler objects out of
woven glass fibers and resin. Following the advice he was given there, he carved
a male mold from plaster—it was also his styling model—and handbuilt the body
over it. By modern standards the shell is extremely thick—varying from
one-eighth inch to more than 1½ inches in areas he felt needed to be extra
strong—and required considerable hand-finishing to achieve the desired smooth
surface.
The body is carried on a sturdy tubular frame. To save time in
attaching and providing proper geometry for the front suspension, he welded in a
Ford sedan’s front cross member. Other proprietary parts, such as the rear axle
and brakes, came from Mercury and Lincoln, respectively. For power, he chose the
new Chrysler Hemi V-8 engine, a 900-plus-pound heavyweight that produced close
to 300 hp reliably, when fitted with a six-carburetor intake manifold from
Briggs Cunningham (service would be available in almost any town Bosley might
drive through).
In the early 1950s, when three forward gears were the norm,
nothing was more exotic than a 5-speed transmission. Bosley decided his car had
to have one. Rather than spend the money for one of the few European 5-speeds,
which in any case likely would have wilted under the Hemi’s prodigious torque
output, Bosley found the one American vehicle that sported one and adapted it
for use in his car. The fact that it came from a Dodge truck didn’t bother him
at all.
What separates the Bosley from the ranks of "homebuilts" (which, by the way,
is what it was considered by the state of Ohio) is, in a word, details. Some
people would have been satisfied with the occasional ragged edge here and there.
Not Richard Bosley. Off-the-shelf parts—a ’50 Ford rear window that serves as a
windshield, the ’39 Chevy rear lamps, and Stewart-Warner gauges among them—either look right as they are
or were subtly modified to suit. Bosley cast the rear bumperettes in aluminum,
and designed them to attach to and cover the rear body mounting bolts. Other
small parts, such as side and rear windows formed over velvet-clad plaster
molds, and the matching speedometer and tachometer, which were based on Ford
police-package speedometers, took countless hours to refine. (Click image to enlarge)
Its Chrysler Hemi V-8 recalls the Cunningham
equation of American power and European looks. (
Click image to enlarge)
With attention to even the smallest details, the magnificent
panel fit and finish, and the way in which all parts appear to have been created
for this car, the huge 55-gallon fuel tank (on which the spare Halibrand
magnesium wheel rests) and its giant fast-open filler on the roof weren’t placed
there just for show. During the next few years, Bosley put more than 100,000
miles on his creation. It was, and still is, the equal of the sports cars of its
day in terms of ride, handling, and comfort, and was faster than almost all of
its contemporaries. The sole offensive component was the gearbox, which howled
like the proverbial banshee. But then, Ferraris of the same vintage were far
from silent.
Good as it was, the first Bosley didn’t represent the full
extent of its builder’s creative energy. In 1957, he traded it to GM dealer Dick
Doane, a well-known racer with close ties to Detroit. The deal included a
Corvette chassis, specially modified to compete in the 1956 Sebring race. This
time, Bosley’s intent was to build a true grand touring car instead of a wild
and woolly sports coupe.
The Bosley Mark I at speed. (
Click image to enlarge)
The Interstate, as Bosley dubbed the result, once again showed
Italianate design touches, with more than a small hint of Pininfarina’s Ferrari
Superfast. Once again, he built a fiberglass body, this time from female molds.
A lighter and stronger (345 hp) Pontiac V-8 delivered the motive power.
Unlike the first car, the Interstate had respectable luggage
space, and an interior trimmed for maximum comfort. Bosley designed a proper
ventilation system, too. His imagination was much in evidence; among the
Interstate’s safety-oriented features was a light bar over the rear window that
lit up to warn following drivers of impending braking or turning.
Anxious to speed completion, Bosley farmed out more of the
manufacturing process this time. The German firm Reutter built the plated grille
surround and seats, Sibona-Bassano in Italy did the window glass, Nardi provided
a steering wheel, and the headlamps and air horns came from Marchal in France.
Bosley was nonplussed to learn from Reutter that it could have built the
complete car for him for less money than he had invested in the as-yet
incomplete project.
Richard Bosley and the svelte Bosley Interstate
; its lines recall the Ferrari Superfast while power comes from a
Pontiac V-8. (
Click image to enlarge)
Both cars survive today. The Mark I is in perfect trim after a
restoration by one of its former owners, while the Interstate, minus the special
Corvette chassis—which was removed to build a replica of the original Sebring
racer—awaits an owner with the time and dedication to bring it back to life.
Bosley has not lost his passion for car building, but has since concentrated
on scale models of his subsequent designs. Each of them shows that he hasn’t
lost his flair for the unusual. The latest, called Habu, is a close-coupled
coupe with sweeping lines and crisp edges. It presents a bold front, with
chrome-capped fenders that recall some of the extravagant classic designs by
French coachbuilders of the 1930s, and is reminiscent of his masterpiece, the
Mark I.
A more recent design for the Habu
marries classic prewar cues into a modern whole. (
Click image to enlarge)