John Lamm

People think hybrids are something new, but they've been around since the beginning of the automobile. Ferdinand Porsche built the Lohner-Porsche series hybrid car back in 1901. It used a gas engine to spin a generator that fed electricity to in-wheel motors. In 1917, the Woods Motor Vehicle Company of Chicago offered the Woods Dual Power, a series hybrid that could motor along—at speeds of less than 15 mph—solely on battery power. But I think the 1916 Owen Magnetic might be the most interesting early hybrid of them all.

The Owen Magnetic's technological leap was its electromagnetic transmission. Invented by the wonderfully named Justus B. Entz, an electrical engineer from New York who once worked with Thomas Edison, the electromagnetic transmission compactly housed both a 24-volt generator and an electric traction motor. The crankshaft of a 75-hp gas engine was attached to the generator, which sent juice to the traction motor, which in turn powered the rear wheels. There was no mechanical connection between the engine and the drivetrain.

One could argue that in 1916 hybrids made even more sense than they do today because early manual transmissions were such a bear to operate. Most cars of the era had straight-cut gears and heavy clutches. If you were a man or a woman with a bad leg, or you simply weren't able to drive, shift, and double-clutch at the same time, the Owen Magnetic was the perfect vehicle, since it has no clutch or gear shifter. To go faster, you press on the gas and then move a steering-wheel-mounted lever along six speed detents. As you accelerate, the engine speed increases, and that in turn speeds up the generator, enhancing power. Each successive lever position increases the intensity of the motor's magnetic field and torque. Compared with operating most early cars, driving the Owen Magnetic is a breeze.

The car's other advantage was its electric brake. There's a cockpit lever that turns the traction motor—the one that drives the rear wheels—into a generator. So when it's time to slow down, you move the lever, and the resistance provided by the motor slows the car and charges the batteries—the same kind of regenerative mode that's found in today's hybrids. A lot of my old cars, which weigh between 3000 and 4000 pounds, have only rear brakes. Consequently, those brakes produce a lot of heat. When you go down a long hill, you can smell 'em starting to burn up, and they quickly fade. And if an early car's brakes get wet, oh boy, you're in for a panic. But with the Owen Magnetic, you rarely have to get on the brakes unless you need to stop completely, like at a stop sign. If you're going 35 to 40 mph, you engage "regen" and you coast, or freewheel. As soon as you hit 25 mph, you feel the transmission go eeehhhhrrr! And the car slows right down to 3 or 4 mph. Plus, you can watch gauges that show the batteries charging.

My Owen Magnetic was originally sold straight from the floor of the 1916 New York Automobile Show and shipped to the buyer's home in Norway. He must have forgotten that there weren't many roads in Norway in 1916. That's probably why my car has less than 9000 miles on it.

I'm not sure when the car made it back to America, but it was probably in the 1970s. I found it right here in Los Angeles. Whatever you're looking for, you can find it within 50 miles of L.A. During World War I, and even more so during World War II, plenty of defense contractors were on the West Coast—Lockheed, Boeing, Douglas, and many more. Engineers and other technically minded people were drawn here. With the great climate, cars didn't rust and people didn't throw anything away. A lot of the interesting cars and stuff just stayed in the area.

So why did the Owen Magnetic company fail in 1922, after producing just 700 cars?

The ads called it the car of a thou-sand speeds. But as is sometimes the case, being better isn't always enough. The car had to be competitively priced. A 1917 Ford Model T cost $360; Cadillacs ran about two grand. An Owen Magnetic started at $3700 and went up from there.

Another problem was the complicated relay-and-wiring shift mechanism. It's mounted under the hood alongside the steering column. I haven't opened mine up because it seems to work fine. And, quite frankly, I'm frightened to poke around in there. A plate on it says, "If something goes wrong, do not attempt to work on this yourself. Send it back to the factory." Who would want a car that a blacksmith couldn't fix?

In that era, most people didn't care that much about new technology. It's like the full hybrids today. They're still a hard sell because they cost more than other cars in their class. You can get better mileage, but that initial cost penalty keeps many people from buying them.

With cars, simpler and cheaper parts are often better. When the Mustang was developed, Ford considered a more expensive independent rear suspension than the solid axle the car came with. As legend has it, Ford executive Lee Iacocca said, "Americans don't give a crap about that. Make it inexpensive; make it look sexy. Don't put something in it they can't see."

Companies that don't make it in the car business usually fail because they try to sell a product that's too good or they over-engineer it and put in more than people want or need.

Sadly, that's what happened with the Owen Magnetic.

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