Spring Color 1976 Continental Mark IVs
Spring Color 1976 Continental Mark IVs
by Jim Farrell
Originally published in the May-June 1996 issue of Continental Comments (Issue # 210).
The Desert Sand Spring Luxury Option Mark IV, shown above, is probably the wildest color combination of all. We wonder if any still exist?
Since at least the 1930s, Ford Motor Co. has from time to time, offered Fords, Mercurys and Lincolns in spring colors-fancy, bright, solid or two-toned color combinations meant to entice winter weary buyers into dealerships. This practice has continued even into recent years.
The recent Continental Comments article about the 1976 Black Diamond luxury decor option Mark IV brought a response from Bob Bowen of St. Maries, Idaho. He reports that the Black Diamond Mark IV was only one of four special Spring Edition Luxury Option Lincolns made available starting in March, 1976. There were no brochures, no factory advertising programs and very little publicity about these four very rare luxury decor option Lincolns. The only reference to them Bob has discovered so far is in the 1976 Dealer’s Color and Upholstery Book as a March, 1976 “glue-in” supplement.
Bob estimates that no more than 50 to 100 of each model of the Spring Edition ‘76 Mark IVs were built, making each car very rare, indeed.
The four Spring Edition cars are identified as the:
*Black Diamond Mark IV.
*Black Diamond Lincoln Continental Town Coupe and Town Car.
*Lipstick and White Mark IV.
*Desert Sand Mark IV.
The Black Diamond Lincoln Continental Town Cars and Town Coupes have the same trim scheme as the Black Diamond Mark IV. The Lipstick and White luxury option Mark IV is different from previous Lipstick Mark IVs in that, like all other ‘76 Spring Edition Luxury Mark IVs, Town Cars and Town Coupes, it has patent leather seat straps and the landau roof is made from a different material.
Probably the wildest color combination on any Mark IV is the Desert Sand Spring Luxury Option Mark IV. The front end, tops of the front fenders, the hood, the “A” pillars, about two inches of the roof above the windshield, and a small area underneath, around the back of, and on the top of the side windows are painted dark brown. The landau patent leather vinyl roof is tan. The rest of the front half of the roof is tan, as are the trunk lid, back fenders, doors, and the sides of the front fenders. On the inside, the seats were in a dark brown crushed velour material with dark brown patent leather straps. It was distinctive to say the least.


Soon, dozens of Ford people were on their way to England, with assignments of one to two years, long hours, and hard work preparing the new Town Car for “Job 1.” ” Job 1″ is automotive parlance for the first production vehicle of that model series.
Friday morning, first thing, I reported to Gale’s office. His secretary, with a sweep of her arm, directed me into his inner office. Seated, I told him I was available, I would go. At that, he turned and asked his secretary to connect him with the studio in Worthing. She must have had them on hold, as he immediately started the conversation with the Manager in England without a hello or any pleasantries. He directed the two Managers to, “Be in my office first thing Monday morning!” and the call was ended. Now the urgency began to really sink in.
That very first night we worked until 9:00 right along side of the modelers, which I was told they appreciated. I made my own quarter panel templates, went to the board, and quickly surfaced the rear quarters to cover the trunk floor with the required clearances. By 9:00 the next morning we had the rear fenders finished.
The cube review would be conducted by Press Patterns in Nuneaton, near Coventry, as they had the contract to fabricate the die models. It was 150 miles to Nuneaton, but with the problems we faced, it might as well have been a million miles away.
Design intent was to have window moldings that were as smooth as possible, for the most flush condition possible. The molding supplier said they could only manufacture them with a vulcanized patch in the corners. This being a new design, a new direction for window design and construction, you find you must listen to the guy who is going to make it. Still I was not happy with the window moldings with the 3 to 3 millimeter lumps in each corner. The new Taurus and Sable were still quite new, and two of them were in the hallway just outside of the studio. For some reason, I decided to examine them. One had the required patches (it was built in Chicago) while the other had the smooth surface we desired (it was built in Atlanta), but both were from the same manufacturer. We set up a meeting, and we got smooth moldings, but no apology from the supplier. Why that company’s representative did not go the extra mile for a vehicle of the class of the Town Car and make sure it maintained the design intent I’ll never know.
Some readers may be wondering why a vinyl roof option was not offered. We designed one, and Arvin Industries in Columbus, Indiana, was to produce them. I thought it was a good looking option, not my cup of tea, but it looked good. It was a three piece design with appliques on each rear door and a cap on the roof. B&A assembled one on a prototype with the roof option in silver vinyl and installed on a maroon body (that combination looked horrid). Someone parked it in the Design Center courtyard shortly before Lew Veraldi, vice president of Product Development, walked across the courtyard with a cadre of assistants close behind. I’m told he stopped, looked at the FN-36, studied it and then announced, “I don’t want to see a Town Car with a vinyl roof.” The next thing we knew there was no vinyl roof option. It even disappeared from the product assumption book, which outlines each and every feature for the vehicle. Lincoln lost control of the vinyl roof design, and a sizeable profit went to the dealers who did it themselves, sometimes not too wisely.






Meanwhile, I found a ’60 coupe, perfect, 50,000 miles, white with tan leather, a/c, power lube, it had everything. The price? $600. My wife borrowed most of the money from my grandmother and wired it to me. I persuaded her to get on the bus to join me for the weekend ride home. Reluctantly, she agreed. In the ensuing few days, I discovered that the generator was fried. Plus, it was an expensive Delco, used on a few a/c equipped ‘60s. No matter, I could manage the 250 mile drive on the battery, if I was careful. I picked her up Friday afternoon at the bus station and she admitted that the car was beautiful. I said, “Let’s go!” I tore out and got on the road. It was warm and she wondered about the a/c. I commented that, with the breezeway window, you hardly needed it. The first clouds of doubt crossed her previously unwrinkled face. We got to Richmond and, since she hadn’t eaten since morning and we were retracing her route, dinner was a must. Unfortunately, dinner would eat into daylight. I knew a restaurant that would be just perfect. It was next to an Esso station. I gallantly dropped her off at the door, waited until she went in and left the car at the station with instructions to charge the hell out of the battery. After dinner, I got the car, met her at the door and continued on. As dusk became night, she wondered why I didn’t turn on the lights. Eventually, I did. We made it to the house in Baltimore (thank God for 90 pound batteries) and went in to see the folks. I told dad to look out the window. There were two of them. He was not thrilled.





