Barrett-Jackson CEO Owns, Drives a 1970 HEMI Cuda Convertible Full of Surprises

The GM strikes are perhaps the most studied and best-known since the walkouts deeply impacted the entire U.S. economy. The biggest carmaker on Planet Piston at the time wasn’t the only automobile company that ran into labor problems – Chrysler, too, had to face the wrath of steelworkers.

The Lone Star Steel Company strike from 1968-1969 is known for its violent clashes and bloody outcome. From the ashes of that faceoff rose one of the most emblematic muscle cars of all time – a 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda Convertible HEMI.

1970 was the year of the Mopar twin cousins, the first-ever Dodge Challenger, and the third-gen Plymouth Barracuda. The two cars were built on the new E-body platform, developed especially for the pair of Chrysler products and designed to accommodate every engine offered by the corporation, from the small Slant Sixes to the pair of V8 titans, the elephant 426 HEMI and the 440 RB.

Plymouth and Dodge were making a head-on assault on the pony car market—by then already seven years old—after Chrysler’s monumental failure to establish a firm footing in the very territory it had founded on April 1, 1964. That’s when the first Barracuda was launched, two weeks ahead of the Ford Mustang that gave the entire segment its ‘pony’ name.

Unfortunately, the A-body was not big enough to carry the Street HEMI between the front fenders – mainly because the oversized motor wouldn’t be launched until the start of the 1966 model year. One thing led to another, and Mother Mopar waited for several years to develop a proper pony car that could take on its rivals and every prowling muscle car from Detroit.

1970 was the golden year for performance carmaking, and the Challenger and the Cuda had it rough from the get-go, with fierce competition from all around town. Fortunately, the two Chryslers came prepared: big engines, loads of power, killer colors, superb styling, good options—the lot.

Among those first-year wonders, the convertible HEMI ‘Cudas have reached demigod status since they’ve been in production for just two years, 1970-1971. Twenty-one examples were assembled: 14 in the ’70 and 7 in ’71. By comparison, the total HEMI ‘Cuda hardtop production was 652 in 1970 and 107 in the last year of the second-gen hemispherical heads V8.

It's rare by all counts, and the ragtops are right up there with the unicorns. But in the early 70s, they were just big gas guzzlers and little more. However, they were also at the top of the performance line in Plymouth’s stable. Chrysler was considerate enough to use one of those super-rare 1970 convertible HEMI ‘Cudas to return a very big overseas favor.

The case in question is the steel strike from ’ '68-’69, which prompted Chrysler to look for precious resources elsewhere. They landed a deal with British Steel, a company from England (go figure) that supplied the vital material and kept Mopars rolling off the assembly lines.

To express corporate gratitude, the chairman of the steel plant was gifted one In-Violet Metallic (only Dodges went all Plum Crazy) convertible Plymouth Barracuda equipped with a 426 cubic-inch V8 (the 7.0-liter HEMI) and an automatic transmission. That’s one of the eight examples with this drivetrain combination produced that year and the only drop-top 1970 ‘hemicuda’ exported overseas.

(Yes, I know, there were three sent to Canada, but that’s not exactly overseas. Great as they might be, the Five Lakes between the two North American countries are still tiny). That’s how a small (by American standards) pony car with the steering wheel on the democratic side ended up burbling its shaker hood manners on the streets of London.

The gigantic (by British standards) two-door automobile from America was about as home in the capital of the United Kingdom as an elephant in a china shop. And on top of it all, it was thirsty beyond even the wildest English imagination, particularly after the 1973 oil embargo.

America was the main target of the OPEC boycott. Still, all other nations associated with the Star-Spangled Banner paid the price. The big HEMI was no match for the exploding fuel prices, so the Brits retorted to cheating the system. Instead of the mighty dual-quad-carbureted 425-hp, 490-lb-ft powerhouse (431 PS, 664 Nm), they put in a more docile 318 (5.2 liter) and axed the carb barrel head count four-fold.

The small block, with its two-barrel fuel-air mixer, was a more appropriate approach to saving fuel, but the legend surrounding this unique car has added an aura of romantic adventures to the hard facts. As the story goes, the 426 V8 was pulled out, and a replacement was fitted in so that the owner of that time could take the car to drag races.

Indeed, the car went to quarter-mile fistfights, and indeed, the original 426 was put on a stand, but for all the different reasons. Eventually, after changing owners several times, the car returned Stateside with a crate 426 HEMI in it. In 1999, the steel-saviors offering was acquired by a certain gearhead from Arizona named Craig Jackson. The name has a familiar ring to it, doesn’t it? Yes, THAT Jackson, the second half of the Barrett-Jackson car-centric galaxy.

Naturally, Chrysler put everything on the ‘Thank You!’ car, so one fender tag didn’t fit all the options, so two more were punched in alongside. The CEO of the auction company still has it – how wouldn’t he? – and took it for a ride to Jay Leno’s garage the other day.

The Plymouth is no longer an original survivor, it has been restored – to factory perfection, as we might imagine – but retained the 1970 crate HEMI installed after the 318-2V was no longer needed. And yes, the original, numbers-matching motor is with the car. Craig Jackson doesn’t really care about this whole number synchronicity too much, at least when Mopars are concerned.

Play the video below to see the unicorn 1970 Plymouth HEMI ‘Cuda convertible automatic, and you can learn about its owner’s reasons for enjoying it just the way it is, with the non-original engine. The car’s odometer reads 68,045 miles (109,485 metric clicks). Its famed caretaker has regularly driven it in the past 25 years because that’s what the car was built for, not to be a million-dollar garage queen like each and every one of its litter siblings.