The 1970s marked a fascinating era for both law enforcement and car enthusiasts. As citizens increasingly tuned into police frequencies with newly accessible car police scanners, police departments were also innovating, albeit in less publicly monitored ways. One such innovation stemmed from a rather mundane issue: the dismal resale value of used police patrol cars.
One large police agency, grappling with budget constraints, was particularly irked by the low return on their surplus vehicles. Consultants were brought in, studies were conducted, and the diagnosis was clear: the poor condition and high mileage were compounded by the modifications unique to police cars. The myriad holes drilled for spotlights, sirens, and antennas, the patchwork of black and white paint schemes, and the residue from removed decals all contributed to depreciated value. Thus, an unconventional plan was hatched to boost resale figures.
The department decided to order new patrol cars with a radical twist. Gone were the standard black and white. Instead, cars arrived in an assortment of factory colors, each equipped with air conditioning – a novel luxury at the time. Windshield pillar spotlights were omitted, replaced by new gutter-mounted light bars. Radio antennas were integrated into these light bars, and reflective signs, also attached to the bars, served as the only exterior police markings. Hand-held spotlights were placed inside, and a floor-mounted “stack” housed the radio, PA, and siren controls.
This was a bold departure from tradition. Yet, it proved remarkably effective. Officers embraced the change, and the public quickly adapted to the absence of the iconic black and whites. Crime scenes became a kaleidoscope of car colors. The experiment was a success, except for one stubborn relic.
A pristine, low-mileage black and white “dinosaur” remained in service, stubbornly resisting retirement. Brass insisted it reach its mileage quota before surplus, but its very appearance was an affront to the new order. A mid-level chief decided to take matters into his own hands. He dispatched the black and white to the city shops for a “makeover.” Strip the decals, remove the roof siren and pillar spotlights, patch the holes, and install the new gutter-mount light bar, he instructed. When asked about paint color, the chief’s directive was simple: “Whatever’s cheap, as long as it’s not black or white.”
Shop guys, true to their nature, delivered. The department got back their low-mileage straggler, sporting the new equipment, but painted a shocking baby blue. Predictably, the baby blue cruiser became an instant pariah. Officers invented countless reasons to avoid driving it, some even succumbing to sudden, convenient illnesses – perhaps a case of the “baby blue flu.” After weeks of shunning, the infamous car vanished, rumored to have been auctioned off for a pittance.
