1961 Lincoln Continental Convertible Hides a Decade-Old Adult-Rated Secret Under Back Seat

The car that served as the Presidential limousine in the November 22, 1963, Dallas motorcade was a stretched-out four-door convertible with an extra row of jump seats. The leader of the most powerful nation in the world in the early sixties was using a one-off Lincoln Continental convertible for his public appearances.

The 1961 Lincoln droptop on which the elongated parade automobile was based was a masterpiece of proper American motor engineering, the epitome of luxury cars Made in the USA. It was also a step forward in design, doing away with 50s-style fins and chrome-vaganza. Instead, the big Ford luxo-barge applied simplicity, straightforward lines, plain surfaces, and – believe it or not – size reduction.

Unlike its predecessors or direct competitors, the 1961 Lincoln Continental (the debut year for the fourth generation) was riding on a shorter wheelbase of 123 inches (3,124 mm). That’s six inches (152 mm) shorter than the Cadillac and the Imperial of the same year and eight inches (203 mm) less than the 1960 Lincoln.

Overall, the big Lincoln shed 15 inches (381 mm) from bumper to bumper but compensated in weight gain. The ragtop convertible was a 5,400-lb behemoth, outclassing everyone in this aspect. Granted, the 430 cubic inches under the hood might have directly impacted the curb weight, but it was a balanced-out necessity.

A big motor for a big car was the Continental informal motto, with the largest V8 being shoved at the business end of the Lincoln. Thanks to its seven liters of displacement, the monster fired 300 horses and a colossal 465 lb-ft (304 PS, 631 Nm) from a 4.3x3.7-inch bore and stroke (109.22x93.98 mm). Eerily coincidental, the piston travel per mile measured 1,320 feet (one quarter-mile, or 402.34 meters).

The big motor was no street brawler – it wasn’t meant to be, so its performance in the Lincoln soft-top was not measured in standing quarters or zero-to-sixties. Instead, the V8s (every single one) were thoroughly and excruciatingly bench- and field-tested before they went to the customers.

Three hours on the dyno at various engine speeds (with the peak stress at 3,500 RPM) was just the warm-up before the engine’s disassembly and inspection. If everything was in order, the plant was back together and shipped to the assembly line. A similar treatment was reserved for the three-speed automatic gearbox: 30-minute test run, inspection, and installation.

Once the car was completed, a 12-mile course on the factory test track was mandatory for every Lincoln Continental, convertible or not. One hundred ninety individual checkboxes had to get approval from the inspectors, and all cars that passed went to the ultraviolet inspection pit.

A fluorescent marker dye in the lubricants made it easy for a quality technician to see whether the engine seals worked as intended under the black light lamp. After this, the car was ready for shipping. What happened afterward was the owner’s business – unless something that shouldn’t have broken down broke down in the first 24 months (or 24,000 miles, whichever occurred first). That was the overall warranty of a Lincoln Continental convertible in 1961.

You might be surprised that the luxurious Fords didn’t all get to live the nicest of lives. Of the 1961 Continental production of 25,160 units, 2,857 came in four-door droptop guise, and 22,303 were four-door hardtops. The cool thing about the convertibles was the fully retractable roof tucked away in the trunk, under the deck lid. It required an impressive array of components to make this happen – just play the video below at the 4:10 mark.

The boys from the WD Detailing YouTube channel found an ailing 1961 Lincoln Continental convertible sitting in a garage for two decades and gave it a well-deserved cleaning. Amazingly, the automated power windows work perfectly, even without the key in the ignition, and close as soon as the doors are shut.

Sadly, the detailers don’t have the keys, so they can’t demonstrate/test the operation of the complicated mechanism of the retractable roof nor check the state of the big V8 upfront. However, the car has something else to reveal. It has nothing to do with its manufacturing or any other carmaking trait.

At some point during past ownership, someone snugs a bag full of hand-written notes under the back seat, right next to the build sheet. Given the explicit nature of the documents, the YouTubers don’t elaborate on their find. Still, it is enough to raise a few eyebrows, questions, and suspicions or let the imagination run free about the story with this intriguing Lincoln.