Gus Wilson's Old School TECH

Back when I was a kid in the 60s, I used to read Hot Rod, and Rod & Custom, along with general interest magazines like LIFE, but I was also a fan of Popular Science, and a neighbor (an electrical engineer) had a few decades of Popular Science from the 30s, 40s, and 50s that he would let me read.

Some of you might be familiar with a regular feature of that magazine ***led:
GUS WILSON AND THE MODEL GARAGE
It ran, every month from July 1925 through mid 1969

Unlike the "Ask Smokey" column, that I believe ran in Popular Mechanics in the 70s/80s, where Smokey Yunick answered car problem questions written in to the magazine, each Gus Wilson segment was a fictional story about small town mechanic Gus Wilson and the happenings at his "Model Garage".

It usually revolved around one or more puzzling car repair problems, and most often the most obvious solution was not what cured the problem. I learned a lot from those articles, and as they ran from the mid 20s to the late 60s, they covered everything from Model T's with mechanical brakes to the muscle cars of the late 60s. Some of the columns were put together in book form (the book is now out of print), but someone has been transcribing a lot of the columns and putting them on a website. Some of the stories even dealt with those darned "hot rodders", and how Gus helped them to get their cars in tune, but I could not find any of those particular articles on the website, but more are being put on as times goes by. The articles are kind of corny, but there is a lot of good tech info about old cars in them.

I remember one thing I learned from the articles that helped in real life (though what I learned would not be mush help with modern cars). Gus went to jump the dead battery on a customers car that was at the customer's house. Whe he arrived he found the car in a one stall garage that was at the bottom of a hill, and the hill was too steep to allow the car to be hand pushed out. His jumper cables would not reach the battery, BUT, Gus pulled up his car the the back of the customers car, so that their metal bumpers were touching and by doubling up the 2 jumper cables into "one cable" it was long enough to go from the Positive pole of one battery to the other battery and he got the car started.

Here's a synopsis of what the series was all about:

In July, 1925, a gruff, gray-haired mechanic appeared
feet-first on the pages of popular science. His name
was Gus Wilson, and his feet were protruding from beneath
a car on which he was "examining the brake rods."
Sliding out from under the car, Gus Wilson emerged both
into the light of day and into an extraordinary career.
In the years that followed he has become the best-known
and most respected auto mechanic in the world of fiction.
All dimensions of the Gus Wilson saga are of heroic
proportions, Model garage stories are a**** the longest
continuous fiction features ever printed in any magazine.
More than 500 Gus Wilson stories have been published.
Some of the best of the latest are included in this collection.
All deal with the problems of modern cars. You may be driving
one of them. What you learn in reading these entertaining
tales may help you solve a future problem.

http://www.brakecylinder.com/GusWilson/index.htm

Here's a sample story:
April 1947
GUS TAMES A BUCKING FLIVVER
by Martin Bunn
Stan Hicks was on the phone a long time. From where Gus Wilson was working he could see an earnest expression on his young helper’s face.

“Probably making a date,” Gus grumbled, “but he’s sure taking his time about it.” With some annoyance he began s****ing the carbon from a cylinder head.

Stan finally emerged from the office, looking thoughtful. Gus tossed the s****er onto the bench with a clatter and growled:

“Hope to it, youngster. S****ing out this head is your job.”

“Huh? Oh—sorry!” Stan trotted briskly over and took up where his employer had left off. After a few seconds his young face again took on a preoccupied expression. In a su****iously offhand voice he inquired. “Bad carburetor adjustment can cause bucking, can’t it?”

“Uh huh.”

“And maybe if the plugs aren’t right as a valve is stuck?”

“Yap. Or if the head gasket’s blown. Bring the light over here.”
”Sure. What else could do it?”

“Is this a quiz kid?” Gus grinned at his feeble joke. “What’s up? We don’t have any buckers in the shop.”

“Oh, nothing. Just curious.”

The subject was dropped, and a short while later Gus and his helper got ready to leave for the night. Joe Clark had come in and was checking over sales slips with Gus while Stan washed up.

A horn sounded in front of the garage. “I hope that’s not a last minute job,” Gus said anxiously. He looked out the window and saw an aging roadster pull up to the curb. Henry Weeks, a boy whom he liked, but knew only casually, flipped open the door to let Stan Hicks hop in. Gus noticed as the car moved off that it quivered and bucked like someone skating through a gravel pit.

“Hello Stan,” Henry said with a trace of shyness. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
”Heck, no,” Stan tried not to notice the embarr***ing looking of the car. Because it would have been awkward either to mention it or remain silent, he cast around for something to say. “Do you still see Peggy?” he asked finally.

“You bet. She’s practically my steady.”

Peggy Graham was the leading belle of the high school set. Actually Henry was overstating his claim, but she did seem to like him.

“She’s one of the reasons why I called you. Though it’s mostly this old bus of min. I’ve tinkered with cars a good bit, but sometimes a fellow likes to consult with –er—another expert.”

“Of course,” Stan agreed modestly. “Why, even Mr. Wilson discusses his tough cases. I know how it is, old man.”

“Anyway, this is Thursday, and the big Country Club dance is Saturday. I have a date with Peggy, only she says she won’t go unless the car acts better. That doesn’t leave me much time to get the old crate running right.”

“I should say not, Henry.” Stan tried to recall how Gus would go about a diagnosis. “Has it been bucking long?”

“Began the day before yesterday. I went to call for Peggy and her girl friend to take them for a drive. We got bounced around so much Evelyn started making nasty cracks and Peggy got mad at me and made me take her home right away quick.”
They arrived in front of Henry’s house, parked under a street light, and lifted the hood. An expensive new sedan coasted alongside. Turning, the two boys looked up into the face of Sumner Craven, a chubby youth of about their own age. Seated next to Sumner was lovely Peggy Graham.

“What’s the matter, fellows?” Sumner asked. “Having trouble with your jalopy?”

“Hm!” Listen to him,” scuffed Henry. “Just because his old man lets him use his new car, he thinks he can cheer at his betters.”
”Gosh!” Sumner pulled his head in briefly. “I’ll bet you can’t fix this car!” Then he began to laugh, let in the clutch, and glided smoothly away. Stan and Henry returned to their examination of the motor. Suddenly Stan stopped and pointed at the spark-plug wires. “Hey!” he shouted. “What’s that?”

Henry stared! “The wires of those two plugs are switched!”

Stroking his beardless chin, Henry announced. “They were okay the last time I checked. I know enough about cars not to make that mistake.”

“You mean you smell a mouse in the cabbage?” asked Stan.

“Putting two smells together, I get worse than a mouse. I get Sumner.”

It was the work of seconds to reverse the crossed wires. Henry started the motor, and let the car move slowly forward. It picked up briskly, then gasped rocked forward, coughed, and had speed. The roadster was bucking as badly as ever!”

Sumner Craven opened the front door of the Graham house and stepped out. “Good night, Sumner,” Peggy’s slim young figure was framed in the light from the house.

“Should I call for you Saturday?”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” the girl replied. “I have sort of a date with Henry. Of course, I told him I couldn’t go with him if his car’s going to shake out any hair-do.”

“Ha ha!” Sumner started down the steps. “I’ll call for you at eight on Saturday. Good night!” He climbed behind the wheel of his father’s new car, stopped the switch, and pressed the starter. The engine turned over but didn’t start.

“Holy smoke,” he whispered, “Something’s wrong!” Nervously he tried again with the same results. “If anything’s happened to the car, Pa will have my hide.” Hopping out, lifted the hood and looked helplessly at the engine.

“Having trouble, chum?” A familiar voice drifted over his shoulder. Sumner whirled to find Stan and Henry, looking as casual as they could manage, standing behind him.

“You’ve done something to my car,” Sumner replied. “If you’ve hurt it I”ll have both of you thrown in jail!”

“Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Stan asked Henry with an expression of exaggerated puzzlement.

“That’s a guilty conscience talking,.” Henry rejoined. “The kind of stinker who’d cross someone else’s spark plug wires probably thinks honest people would stoop to the same tricks.”

Sumner glared at him.

“See?” Henry went on triumphantly. “He admits it!”

“It was just a gag,” growled the chubby youth. “Anyway, you found it. What have you done to my fa—my car?”

“Tsk—tsk. D’ya still think we did something to it? Of course that distributor rotor we found up the street might,,,,”
”Give it back!”

“Funny thing, it got lost,” said Stan.

“But we might be able to find it,” Henry added quickly, “If you could remember what else you did to my car.”

“I crossed the plug wires. That’s all. Honest!”

“Quit kidding,” Henry dropped his flippant tune and stepped in close to Sumner. “We fixed that and the car still bucks.”

There was no mistaking the expression on Sumner’s face. He was honestly puzzled. A few more questions showed he had nothing further to reveal. The hand Stan had been holding behind his back came forward. It held the motor from the sedan’s distributor.

The two friends made their way back toward the roadster. Grimly Stan rolled up his sleeves. “Looks like there’s no way out,” he said. “We got to take off the head. ”Working with few tools and little light the two boys took even longer on the job than they had expected. Worse, they could find nothing wrong no valves were stuck and the gasket bore up under scrutiny.

:There’s only one thing left,” Stan confessed wearily, as they begin to re***emble the engine. “Bring the bus around to the shop tomorrow and let my boss look at it.

Boy! How he’ll rib me!”

Gus Wilson knew when to leave well enough alone. Despite Stan’s fears, he tactfully refrained from rubbing salt on the young mechanic’s wounded pride.

“We tried everything we could think of,” said Stan.

“In that case,” Gus replied, “the trouble must be some place you didn’t think of. Let’s go over it step by step.”

“How about the crossed plug wires?” asked Henry.

“That might have done it easily enough, and whatever the trouble turns out to be, crossing the wires may have helped to bring it out. You checked the valves and the head gasket. Although they don’t seem to be the answer, you may still have been on the right track.” He raised the hood and instructed Henry to start the motor. It rumbled unevenly and coughed through the carburetor. Gus checked the vacuum at the carburetor and found it low. “That could happen,” he said, “if the exhaust and intake were getting together.”

“But we examined the valves,” Stan protested.

“How about the ports at the side?”

“The ports…?”

“Sure. Where the gas goes in and the exhaust comes out.” Gus showed Stan where to back off the units that held the manifold to the block. As it came loose, slivers of blackened copper fell out.

“There’s your trouble.” Gus pointed to a gap that had been burned in the gasket between an intake and exhaust port. “Put on a new manifold gasket and try it.”

The boys set to work. When Gus strolled by a half hour later, the motor was purring.

“Okay now?” asked Gus.

“Like a charm,” Henry affirmed. “I can’t tell you how much I…”

Gus waved his hand. “Forget it. But wait until I see that Craven kid, I don’t say this couldn’t have happened if the wires hadn’t been crossed, but I’ll bet a peach to a pumpkin it helped bring it on.”

Henry s****ed his foot shyly along the grease-blackened floor. “Please don’t say anything to him right away,” he said. “If he finds out that my car’s been fixed before Saturday night, he’ll be able to make another date. I’d like to see that double-crossed get hung up at the last minute. It would serve him right if he had to go dancing with his father’s sedan!”

END

 

http://www.arcpress.com/modelgarage/gus.htm

Loved to read Gus Wilsons stories, still do.-MIKE .

 

Years ago,Dad used to pick up used copies of Popular Science and Popular Mechanics;think I read the first of them while in Grade 6 or 7 and Gus and the Model Garage were my favorite read.I think that those stories helped foster my interest in things automotive.The magazines got pretty tattered over the years and I eventually cut out the Model Garage stories and kept them in a binder.I haven't read them in a while,but now I will! Thanks for stirring up some memories.

 

Big Jim, I love it! As soon as I saw "Gus Wilson" in your post, I thought "The Model Garage!"

I was in high school from 1954-1958, and somewhere around my junior year I ended up with a Study Hall that was in the school library. There were a bazillion books for our proper education, but a**** the real treasures were sets of Popular Sciences from a bunch of previous decades all properly bound by year in hardcover. I don’t remember when DeVilbiss High School’s collection started, but Gus ran from 1925 through 1970.

(1) Here’s a link devoted to Gus: http://www.gus-stories.org/1925-29.htm
(2) And yeah, the school was named after the paint-gun guy.

Granted, we had Hop Up, R&C, and the other magazines to hide inside our Algebra books, but here was car stuff we could read in the open during Study Hall. I found them about the third day of that semester, and began reading a year of Gus's solutions each day. Screw homework – here was a taste of real life for a fifteen-year-old. There seemed like there were at least twenty years' worth of books there, and I read all twelve stories for each year a number of times.
Everybody talks about Felson's stories, but I never got to read any of them. Ken Purdy's stories I ran into later, and I could appreciate them on a different level, but there'll always be a sweet spot in my heart for Gus, his wildly-different customers, and the Model Garage.

Thanks for the memory.