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It was to be a glamorous new industry for New Brunswick, but it became the $23 million dollar impossible dream. The dead-end story of the Bricklin fiasco is recounted in 'Bricklin' written by H.A. Fredericks with Allan Chambers and published by the Brunswick Press of Fredericton. This is a condensed passage from the book.
The twin-engine plane carrying Premiere Richard Bennett Hatfield of New Brunswick, several reporters and a large crate of fresh Atlantic salmon landed in New Jersey late on the afternoon of June 24,1974.
A man in chauffer's gear met the plane. He gave the salmon a sour look and led the group to a limousine for the trip into New York City. The reporters were deposited at a downtown hotel and the limousine drifted back into the traffic, with Hatfield inside. He had a busy two days ahead: meetings, a television appearance, and a salmon dinner. The next day he would attend an unveiling of the Bricklin car, in which his government had an investment.
Hatfield had waited a long time for the New York ceremony. Malcolm Bricklin, the car's Philadelphia-born promoter, had promised earlier that production would begin at New Brunswick Plants in September of 1973. Bricklin had collected franchise fees and deposits from car dealers in the U.S., and now the dealers were becoming anxious. In April, 1974, Hatfield's government had provided new financing for Bricklin, and the people in New Brunswick were asking questions. Where were the cars?
The Fours Seasons Hotel at Park Avenue and 52nd Street, where Bricklin had rented a ballroom for $50,000, was crowded on Tuesday, June 25th. The guest list, compiled with the help of Rogers and Cowan Inc., a public relations firm with offices in Berverly Hills and on Madison Avenue, included government and bank officials, media representatives, Bricklin dealers and car hobbyists, and a collection of Park Avenue people in well cut suits and plunging necklines.
After the preliminary speeches, Malcolm
Bricklin jumped onto a platform and pulled a sheet from a pearl-white
flashback. The crowd, guarding cocktails, jostled for a look. Albert Bricklin,
Malcolm's father, strode onto the platform with a hot branding iron in his
hand.
"I name this car Bricklin", Albert said, pressing the iron to the car's body. There was smoke. Malcolm assured the crowd that, because of the car's unique acrylic body, the brand (a stylized B) could be simply buffed away. The crowd was impressed.
Throughout the afternoon, people inspected prototype models of Bricklin's car. They played with the gull-wing doors (which opened upwards, not sideways) and tested their knuckles on the gleaming acrylic. Sammy Cahn, a veteran Broadway composer, climbed a stage and sang, "The most beautiful car in the world."
"I've invested a lot of faith in this car," confessed Hatfield, whose government's investment in the car stood at nearly $5 million, "and I'm very, very happy."
So was Bricklin. Dressed in a white, bell-bottomed leisure suit and print shirt (even Cahn felt compelled to ask what the clothes cost), Bricklin bobbed in and out of the crowd, accepting handshakes and offering comments.
At the time of the New York show , the New Brunswick government had provided
financing of $4.5 million for Bricklin's car. The money had been advanced on
the assumption that Bricklin needed the initial financing to begin the
production of cars. By the time the New Brunswick government discovered its
error, it would have paid for the engineering and development of Bricklin's
car. By that time, it would also be paying many of the costs, including
salaries of keeping Bricklin's U.S. companies in operation.
Charlie Russell is a New Brunswick resident and a former Bricklin International
member. He wrote a satirical song about the Bricklin
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