Phantom Corsair: the car of tomorrow that remained a one-off

The car was the private project of Rust Heinz, a young designer from the family behind the American food company. His vision was brought to life by the California coachbuilder Bohman & Schwartz, with Maurice Schwartz playing a particularly important role. The Phantom was built as a single demonstrator, intended to attract interest in a possible small production run. That production never began, and Heinz's death in 1939 brought the project to an end.

The Corsair's story is more revealing than the familiar description of a car “ahead of its time.” Its imaginative aerodynamics, passenger-protection ideas and electrically operated equipment came with serious compromises: inadequate engine cooling, restricted visibility, substantial weight and a cabin much less practical than its advertised six seats suggested. Those contradictions help explain why such a remarkable design remained a prototype.

Rust Heinz and the ambition to build his own car

By the middle of the 1930s, the American motor industry was recovering from the worst years of the Great Depression. Expensive cars were still sometimes made in small numbers, with bodies individually tailored for wealthy customers. At the same time, engineers and designers were fascinated by streamlining, the use of forms inspired by the movement of air. The fashion reached trains, aircraft, household appliances and automobiles. In cars, though, a streamlined appearance did not always mean that aerodynamic performance had been established by testing. A smooth silhouette had also become a visual shorthand for modernity.

Rust Heinz wanted to design industrial products and cars rather than enter the family food business. He attended Yale, took an interest in fast boats and eventually left university for California. In Pasadena, he benefited from financial support from a wealthy aunt. He developed his own design studio there and began sketching a car that could serve as its calling card.

He did not intend to start by developing a new engine or transmission. In 1936, he bought a Cord 810, one of the more unconventional American production cars of the decade. The Cord offered a low hood, front-wheel drive, a V8 engine and a four-speed transmission with electrically assisted gear selection. It also had distinctive retractable headlights. For Heinz, it was a much better starting point than a conventional rear-wheel-drive American car with a long driveshaft running beneath the passenger compartment.

Heinz was not working alone. He approached Bohman & Schwartz, a Pasadena coachbuilding company founded by Christian Bohman and Maurice Schwartz. The firm had experience creating one-off bodies for wealthy customers and Hollywood figures. Heinz supplied the broad design vision for the Corsair, while Schwartz and his craftsmen translated drawings into structures that could actually be built and used. Crediting the entire car to a single designer would overlook the coachbuilder's essential contribution.

From the Cord 810 to a unique prototype

Work began in 1936, with most of the construction undertaken during 1936 and 1937. The team developed drawings and three-dimensional models before shaping the body. Maurice Schwartz produced models and wooden forms that helped craftsmen make the individual panels by hand. Historical accounts also mention wind-tunnel work. Widely accessible test results or a defensible drag coefficient have not survived, however, so assigning the Corsair a specific Cd value would be unjustified.

Using the Cord as a donor involved much more than removing its standard body. Its front mechanical assembly, including the engine, gearbox and drive system, was combined with a specially built rear chassis structure. According to automotive historian Michael Lamm, A.J. Bayer of Vernon, California, made a steel frame using rectangular-section tubing and an X-shaped brace. Separate mounting arrangements were provided for the rear axle. The wheelbase was kept at approximately 3.18 metres, equivalent to 125 inches.

The body was made from hand-formed sheet metal, chiefly aluminium, supported by a structure incorporating steel components. Historical descriptions mention aluminium alloys, alloy steel and tubular construction. The use of aluminium therefore did not make the complete car lightweight. The finished Corsair weighed around 2.1 tonnes, more than the Cord from which its running gear was derived.

The extraordinary width of the body was a functional decision as well as a styling one. The steered front wheels, enclosed within large fairings, needed room to turn. Bringing the body sides closer to the centreline would have reduced their available steering angle and made manoeuvring even harder. The broad body addressed that packaging problem while creating enough room for the remarkable four-abreast front seating arrangement.

The car's date requires a distinction between the project's promotion and the completed vehicle. A colour feature appeared in Esquire in July 1937, before the Corsair was widely known as a finished automobile. The surviving prototype, however, is commonly identified as a 1938 car. The dates describe different stages in one vehicle's story; they are not evidence of two separate Corsairs.

Exterior design: a single flowing shape instead of separate fenders

Many luxury cars of the 1930s retained clearly defined fenders, running boards and a prominent radiator grille even when their designers pursued aerodynamic styling. The Phantom abandoned almost all of those familiar elements. Its hood, sides and wheel enclosures formed a continuous surface. From a distance, it was difficult to identify where a fender ended and the main body began.

The nose was long and rounded. Instead of a conventional radiator grille, it used relatively small openings to admit cooling air. Low-mounted lights and slender Woodlite headlamps were integrated into the body lines. This marked an important departure from the Cord 810: although the donor car had retractable headlights, the Phantom used its own fixed lamps. It was not simply a new body that retained every innovation of the original Cord.

The roof flowed into a long, descending fastback tail. Rear-wheel covers concealed most of the wheels, while additional panels sought to smooth airflow beneath the car. The basic reasoning was sound: fewer exposed components can mean fewer local disturbances in the air. Overall aerodynamic efficiency, however, also depends on underbody flow, the rear shape and the cooling system. Without test data, it is impossible to determine how far the Corsair actually exceeded contemporary cars in aerodynamic performance.

The dimensions commonly cited in historical accounts explain its unusual proportions. It measured approximately 6.02 metres long and 1.94 metres wide, yet stood only about 1.45 metres high. Such a low silhouette, combined with enormous length, created the impression of a vehicle stretched horizontally. It also meant long overhangs and made it difficult for the driver to judge the position of the outermost bodywork.

Its dark finish, restrained brightwork and enclosed wheels distinguished the Phantom even among the most extravagant American coachbuilt automobiles. Certain features can be compared with the flowing European bodies created for marques such as Delahaye by Figoni et Falaschi. That resemblance does not establish direct borrowing. Designers on both sides of the Atlantic were responding to a broader fascination with aerodynamics.

Chassis, front-wheel drive and transmission

The most important mechanical inheritance from the Cord was its front-mounted engine and front-wheel-drive layout. In 1930s America, this configuration was still unusual. Eliminating a long driveshaft beneath much of the cabin made it easier to lower the floor and body. It did not automatically solve the problems of mass, turning circle or cooling.

Under the hood sat a Lycoming side-valve V8 of approximately 4.7 litres, derived from the Cord 810. The V8 designation matters because some later accounts mistakenly describe the Corsair's engine as a straight-eight. In standard Cord specification, the engine was nominally rated at about 125 American horsepower, equivalent to approximately 127 metric horsepower. Power reached the front wheels through a four-speed transmission with electrically assisted gear selection.

That transmission is sometimes described as “automatic,” but the description is misleading. The driver selected the next gear using a small control, while a mechanism prepared the shift in conjunction with clutch operation. It was not an automatic transmission that changed ratios by itself in the modern sense. Together with front-wheel drive, the arrangement helped make the unusual low passenger compartment possible.

The Corsair's final engine output is less securely documented. Advertisements and many later publications repeat a figure of around 190 American horsepower, approximately 193 metric horsepower. Some accounts associate the car with modifications attributed to Andy Granatelli. Granatelli also belongs to the prototype's later ownership history, in the 1940s. Any possible modifications during that period should not be silently assigned to the original 1937 or 1938 configuration.

Writing in Classic & Sports Car, Mick Walsh noted that later work on the car had failed to confirm the special engine tuning implied by Heinz's ambitious claims. The safest distinction is therefore between the clearly established Cord-derived mechanical layout and the approximately 190 hp output, which remains a historical claim. Stories about supercharging deserve the same caution. The presence of a Lycoming V8 does not establish that the Corsair received a factory supercharger of the kind fitted to certain Cord 812 versions.

Performance: advertising figures versus a heavy prototype

A claimed maximum speed of about 185 km/h, corresponding to 115 mph, frequently appears in descriptions of the Corsair. Period promotional material made an even more ambitious claim of 122 mph, roughly 196 km/h. Neither figure should be treated as the result of a reproducible, independent road test. Available historical accounts do not establish a sufficiently documented measurement procedure, engine configuration or test condition.

The distinction matters. A long, smoothly shaped body could have reduced aerodynamic drag at high speed. Yet the Corsair also weighed more than two tonnes, relied on a pre-war engine and suffered from cooling difficulties. Air resistance imposes an enormous demand on an engine at speeds approaching 200 km/h, even when the body is streamlined. Without a verified power output and measured road-test results, it is impossible to determine whether the advertised figure was achievable.

There is likewise no sound basis for quoting a specific 0-100 km/h acceleration time. Comparable documented braking distances or modern-style handling test results are also lacking. Many accounts repeat enthusiastic performance estimates, but they do not supply independent evidence to support them.

The Corsair was not designed for competition. There was no programme to race it in a particular class, no known homologation effort and no established motorsport career. Heinz's publicity used the language of speed and advanced safety, but the project's central purpose was to demonstrate a bold idea for luxurious travel rather than establish a verified speed record.

Six seats in theory, an unusual layout in practice

One of the most frequently repeated facts about the Phantom is its six-seat capacity. That did not mean the conventional arrangement of three passengers in front and three behind. The extremely broad front bench was nominally designed to accommodate four people side by side. The driver occupied the second position from the left, with one passenger seated on the driver's left.

There were obvious compromises. A person sitting beside the driver could restrict visibility, while the actual space available to each occupant depended on shoulder width and clothing. Nor was the arrangement equivalent to four separate, full-sized seats. Today it seems more ingenious as a use of body width than persuasive as a practical solution.

Two further, cramped places were provided behind the front bench. Sources do not agree entirely on their orientation or usefulness. Promotional accounts described additional seating in the rear part of the cabin; some later descriptions depict passengers facing one another, while others suggest rear-facing positions. What the accounts have in common is that these were far less spacious accommodations than those in front. Side cabinets and equipment intended for entertaining passengers further reduced the available room.

Storage areas for drinks and tableware occupied space at the rear, and there was virtually no conventional luggage compartment. For a car advertised as a fast, comfortable way to travel, this was a surprising weakness. The Corsair offered an impressive space in which to sit, but was much less convincing as transport for six people and their luggage.

The interior received the luxurious finish expected of an expensive car of the period. Extensive upholstered surfaces contrasted with its futuristic instrumentation. The large dashboard combined Cord-related gauges with additional instruments, including a compass and altimeter. A panel above the windshield carried warning indicators for conditions such as an open door or switched-on lights and radio. Here the relationship with aircraft instrumentation was more tangible than in the body shape alone.

Pushbuttons instead of handles and ideas for a safer cabin

Among the Phantom's most theatrical features were its doors, which had no external handles. Electrical mechanisms opened them after buttons on the body or dashboard were pressed. Small sections of the roof lifted with the doors to ease entry into the very low passenger compartment. This was a clever attempt to reconcile the uninterrupted exterior shape with access to the wide front bench.

The arrangement looked futuristic, but it raised questions about mechanical complexity, electrical faults and emergency exit. A one-off demonstrator can employ equipment requiring individual attention. In a production car, the same mechanisms would need to function reliably for years, in rain and frost, without a technician standing nearby.

Heinz treated passenger protection as a major part of the project. Contemporary promotional material emphasised the steel cabin structure, protective glazing, extensive interior padding and the reduction of hard surfaces against which an occupant might strike during an accident. Cork, rubber and soft layers beneath the upholstery were used for insulation. The dashboard was padded as well. In a decade when many automobiles had hard metal interior fittings close to passengers' heads and bodies, this approach was noteworthy.

Historical descriptions also mention thick, green-tinted windows and unusual bumpers incorporating energy-absorbing elements. The original publicity even referred to “bulletproof” glass, but the word should be understood as a period advertising claim. It is not a modern certification of ballistic protection. Equally, a padded interior by itself cannot establish a crash-protection standard supported by testing.

Historians have good reason to place the Corsair among pre-war projects that gave serious attention to reducing passenger injuries. The designer's intentions must nevertheless be kept separate from the safety actually provided by the complete car. The Corsair offered restricted visibility and complicated access to its passenger compartment. It also belonged to an era before the widespread use of modern seat belts, engineered crumple zones and standardised crash tests.

Heating, air conditioning and the limits of period promises

The Corsair feature published in Esquire in 1937 described a thermostatically controlled system intended to heat or cool the passenger compartment. It also referred to elaborate radio equipment. Later accounts are less consistent about which devices were actually fitted and operational in the completed car.

Michael Lamm, whose account drew in part on the history of Bohman & Schwartz, wrote that Heinz planned a shortwave radio and air conditioning but did not fully realise those ambitions. Some other retrospective descriptions list heating and air conditioning without qualification as equipment installed in the prototype. It is therefore more accurate to say that temperature control was promised or planned than to present modern-style working air conditioning as a conclusively established feature of the 1938 car.

This is more than a minor technical distinction. A proposed vehicle advertised with a particular specification is different from a demonstrator that illustrates, or merely promises, some of those features. The Phantom never went through the refinement associated with series production, when equipment must be tested for everyday reliability, servicing and repeated use.

The biggest problem under the hood: cooling

The streamlined front end was the Corsair's strongest visual feature, but also the source of a fundamental engineering weakness. The Lycoming engine needed a steady supply of cool air passing through its radiators. The smooth nose and small ventilation openings restricted that supply, particularly during slow driving in California's warm climate.

Overheating appears repeatedly in accounts of the car's later use. Reports also describe attempts to enlarge or improve its cooling system and fit additional radiators. This does not contradict Heinz's aerodynamic ambitions. A body can be carefully shaped to guide air around it and still fail to admit enough air to cool its engine. Reconciling those two requirements remains an important part of vehicle design.

Visibility posed another problem. The low roofline, strongly inclined windows, divided windshield and heavy body pillars limited the driver's view. The long hood and tail also made it difficult to judge distances when parking. These drawbacks reduced everyday usability and could affect safety, even though the small windows were highly effective at creating the car's extraordinary appearance in photographs.

Wheel covers and unconventional body components made certain servicing tasks more difficult. A unique, hand-built car also depended on specialists capable of repairing or reproducing parts for which standard replacements did not exist. In any proposed small production series, this would have meant high servicing costs and considerable difficulty maintaining consistent quality.

Publicity: Esquire, Hollywood and the Flying Wombat

Heinz understood that a car so different from everything else on the street needed a carefully presented public identity. As early as July 1937, Esquire published a colour presentation of the Phantom. It promoted the project as a new direction in car design, highlighting speed, streamlining, passenger protection and unusual equipment. The feature read more like a statement of what a young design studio hoped to achieve than a catalogue description of an established production model.

The Corsair also appeared in promotional photographs associated with Hollywood. In 1938, it was used in the film The Young in Heart, where it was given the name Flying Wombat. The vehicle was more than ordinary background scenery. Its unfamiliar appearance suited a comedy concerned with luxury and automotive fantasy.

One particularly ingenious scene suggested a showroom filled with examples of the car. The cinematic illusion made the model appear to be in production even though only one Corsair had been built. On screen, the prototype briefly became a fictional automobile that customers could buy. Its film appearance subsequently became one of the best-known episodes in the project's history.

The Phantom was also connected with the 1939 New York World's Fair, a showcase for visions of technology and future living. Sources differ over details of the timing and organisation of its display, but the association with the fair is well established in accounts of the car. It suited Heinz's purpose: the Corsair was meant to capture the imagination, suggest a new style of living and appeal to wealthy buyers for whom a car was also an expression of taste.

A price that made the dream difficult to realise

The cost of building the sole Phantom is most often estimated at approximately $24,000 in contemporary American money. Some accounts cite still higher sums, reaching $35,000. These were estimates of the cost of a unique prototype, not necessarily a complete and fully documented project budget. Hand-forming body panels, making a custom frame, installing unusual equipment and repeatedly revising the design required substantial expenditure.

The ambition to build a small series was real, but accounts of its intended selling price differ. Figures of $12,500, $14,700 and a rounded $15,000 can all be found. Michael Lamm cites $14,700 from promotional material, while accounts associated with the car's museum history mention $12,500. The most defensible description is therefore a proposed price in the low-to-mid tens of thousands of dollars, rather than a single certain list price for a production Corsair that never existed.

That was several times the cost of an ordinary new American car. Even many customers considering established luxury marques would have faced a significant premium over brands with recognised after-sales support. In return, they would receive an eccentric, not particularly practical vehicle without a proven record of reliability. Finding enough of those buyers in the economic conditions of the late 1930s would have been a formidable task.

There is no convincing evidence of orders sufficient to launch production. A brochure and a finished demonstrator did not amount to a factory, production tooling, established manufacturing procedures or a service network. The Corsair had a strong design identity, but the commercial plan behind it remained underdeveloped.

The designer's death and the end of production plans

Rust Heinz died in a road accident in Pennsylvania in July 1939. He was travelling as a passenger in another car, not in the Phantom Corsair. Accounts differ over minor details of the accident and the precise date, but the central fact is clear: the project lost the person who financed, promoted and directed it.

After his death, no larger manufacturer took over the programme. There was no initial production run, no fully developed successor version and no second generation carrying the Corsair name. This is the story of one automobile, not an unfinished family of related models.

The project's collapse probably reflected both the personal tragedy and the objective difficulties of bringing the vehicle to market. It is impossible to know how many might have been built had Heinz survived. The demonstrator would certainly have needed further work on cooling, ergonomics, cost and consistency of manufacture before becoming a credible customer product. The death of its initiator removed the opportunity to take that next step.

Post-war owners and changes to the design

Following its exhibition appearances and Heinz's death, the Corsair spent time in storage and subsequently passed between several owners. Historical accounts mention Lou Maxon, who had a connection to advertising for Heinz products, and Andy Granatelli, later closely associated with American motor racing. Sources do not describe every ownership transfer in exactly the same way, although the broad course of the prototype's history can be reconstructed.

The most conspicuous changes came during the 1950s, when the car belonged to comedian and collector Herb Shriner. He commissioned designer Albrecht Goertz, who would later style the BMW 507, to modify the front bodywork. The aim was to improve airflow to the radiators and reduce engine overheating. Changes also affected the glazing and removable roof sections, intended to make access to the cabin easier.

The modified Corsair looked different from Heinz's original design. It acquired alternative air-intake arrangements and appeared in contrasting colour schemes. Its owners treated it as a unique automobile to be driven and displayed rather than an untouchable museum object. The successive alterations offer an unusually clear comparison between an original visual concept and the practical attempts to correct its weaknesses.

In the early 1970s, the Phantom entered William Harrah's collection in Nevada. It underwent restoration intended to return it to the appearance of the Heinz period. This was an important turning point. Rather than continue with functional alterations, the custodians recognised the historical value of its original styling and identity.

A museum exhibit that can still move under its own power

Today, the Phantom Corsair belongs to the National Automobile Museum (The Harrah Collection) in Reno. The museum identifies it as an experimental six-passenger coupé from 1938, developed through the work of Rust Heinz and Bohman & Schwartz. Preserving the original vehicle matters especially because there is no second factory-built example of the design.

The Corsair is known for more than static photographs. In April 2026 it appeared on Jay Leno's Garage, where the running car from the museum collection was demonstrated. Because visibility was so poor, the driving portion took place on a closed section of Hollywood Burbank Airport rather than as an ordinary road test. It was a demonstration of a preserved historical vehicle, not a scientific measurement of its original performance.

That difference neatly captures the character of the car. Its old powertrain can be started and the huge body can be observed in motion, but impressions from a modern short drive cannot replace measurements from the 1930s. The condition of a surviving automobile, restoration work and the care required when operating a unique artefact all prevent straightforward comparisons with the figures Heinz advertised.

Museum displays and appearances at classic-car events do reveal something photographs often conceal: the sheer scale of the design. The Corsair sits low like a sports car but stretches to the length of a large limousine. Only when those proportions are seen beside the tiny windows and almost fully enclosed wheels does its startling appearance make complete sense.

What did the Phantom Corsair leave behind?

The Phantom is sometimes presented as a preview of post-war cars with integrated fenders, lower hoods and cleaner surfaces. The resemblance is real, but similarity alone does not prove direct influence on a particular production model. Many designers were exploring aerodynamics in the 1930s, and styling trends developed in parallel. Crediting later developments solely to the Corsair would oversimplify that history.

Its importance lies elsewhere. Heinz and Schwartz showed how far an automotive shape could depart from convention while retaining available production-car mechanical components and using the skills of a specialist coachbuilder. Instead of gradually smoothing a familiar body, they treated it as one coherent form and designed the wheel enclosures, lighting and passenger layout around it.

Equally revealing were the ideas intended to protect and comfort occupants. Extensive padding, protective glazing, door-status indicators, electric opening mechanisms and unconventional instruments expressed a belief that innovation should affect the whole experience of travel. Not everything functioned as the advertising promised. Some concepts only gained widely used, properly developed equivalents years later.

Perhaps the strongest lesson comes from the project's failure to become a commercial product. The streamlined nose complicated cooling, the width created practical compromises, the enclosed cabin restricted visibility and the enormous price limited the potential market. The Corsair was not an otherwise ordinary car held back by insufficient marketing. It needed another full development cycle to turn an exhibition vision into something real customers could buy and use.

It is therefore best understood as a one-off experiment in automotive design, rather than a failed attempt to compete directly with Packard, Cadillac or Cord. The Phantom Corsair established no new manufacturing standard, yet it preserved one of the boldest visions of what a luxury car of the future might look like at the end of the 1930s. It survives not because many were sold, but because the single car that was built still allows that vision to be compared with reality.