For 1963, Chrysler made a couple of changes to the letter car concept. Disappointed by the 300H's dismal sales, they decided to go back to basics. Only thing is, they screwed it up again. The 300 had already been watered down by the sport 300 series, and it was too late to do anything about it. They weren't about to cancel the sport series; it was selling too well. The obvious solution would have been to end the series with the 300G  and be done with it. Another option would have been to move the letter car into the Imperial line and change the design a bit, like they had done in 1955. The '62 Imperial is one of the most beautiful designs Chrysler ever had; a slightly scaled down version may have been the ticket.

Instead, the 300H had been  relegated to unwanted older sister status. Now it was time for another letter car, and they didn't seem to know what to do about it. They punted, and lost the ball. The 300J had pinstriping and 300J medallions. It also had 15" tires and the G-H wheel covers. Other than that, it was identical to the sport 300. Now, don't get me wrong......the 300J is a great car, just as the 300H was. The problem wasn't the letter car, it was the sport series.

The J's interior mystifies me. They opted to go with a full bench seat in the rear, the first time that had occurred since 1959. This further diluted the marque. Also, you could only get claret (wine red) leather inside, which is extremely difficult to match or replace. It has a silver iridescent look. The vinyl trim, originally available from the  Ross & Roberts Company in Stratford, Connecticut, my old home town, (we asked, they said yes, they made it, this was around 1977) looked exactly the same.  The red interior was paired with few exterior colors. I do remember seeing a dark blue one one time, but maybe it wasn't original. Most were white, black, claret, or gray. The car had been completely redesigned for 1963; gone were the Astradome firefly dash, side spear medallions, and the familiar tan leather. There was no letter car convertible, either, which was another big mistake. 

Considering the fact that the 413 super stock wedge had been introduced for Dodge and Plymouth the year prior and these cars were being heavily promoted as the new performance machines from Chrysler, the 300J got lost in the shuffle. Its reputation was nothing but a springboard for a car you probably couldn't get, and certainly couldn't drive on the street if you got one. Oh, sure, the 413 was on the option list, but let's see you start it in December. The J had the engine.....a tamer version of the super stock wedge, but nobody cared. They had mid body fever. Had Chrysler also  offered the J engine in the Polaras and Sport Furys, even at 375 hp, get out of the way.

Under the J's hood, Chrysler made a comeback with the 390 hp "short" ram injected solid lifter 413. There was no optional engine; you didn't need one. The Banker's Hot Rod featured a heavy duty (now aluminum) 3 speed Torqueflite. Altogether the car lost about 600 lbs, and it flew. Time for a story.

In the mid to late 1960s, we hung out at a hamburger stand called Briarwood Farms in Bridgeport, Connecticut. On any given night, the parking lot looked like the staging area for any major drag strip in the country. Fairfield County is very wealthy, and every kid in the area had a new something or other......SS396 Chevelles, GTOs, and Corvettes were a dime a dozen. 300's were scarce, except for my friend Bob Mackey's 300K and a white 300J driven by this guy named Jerry. Strange, but I never saw any earlier 300s at all in the day.

I never really met Jerry; he was a quiet, "older" guy. We were all in our early 20's, and Jerry was maybe 32. He kept to himself, and didn't say much.  Every time he came down, he was treated to the usual comments......."Daddy's car," "sled," "pig," etc. He just smiled and went back to the J and drank his coffee. He twitched a lot, which made me think it might be best to stay away from him. He appeared to have something wrong with him. Turns out I was right.

One night, Jerry caught a real barrage of smart remarks as he went back to the J. He looked at the kids who had been razzing him with a really nasty stare.......I guess he'd had enough.

"Hey," I said to my friend Bob Mackey. "Look at this.  I think Jerry's going to blow a gasket."

"Yeah," Bob said, caressing the shifter of his 300K.  "They've really been giving it to him lately." Nobody "gave it" to Bob or his 300K; they knew better. Why is best left unsaid.

Jerry slammed the door as he got into the J, and fired the engine. He pulled out onto the street, a long straight stretch of road adjacent to a park, and sat there. He slowly revved the J until the engine screamed for mercy.

"He isn't going to," I said.

"Yes he is," Bob giggled. The neutral start was Bob's favorite method of making sure all the local tires companies and drive shaft repair shops stayed in business, so he knew it when he saw it.

Jerry made a couple of hand signals toward the hecklers, signifying that they were indeed number one with him, and  punched the Drive button. The J leaped forward in a crazy fishtailing spasm of raw power. Smoke billowed from the wheel wells for about 100 feet, then the J got traction and dug in. The most ungodly roar I'd ever heard came from under the J's hood as the twin AFBs sucked the atmosphere out of Bridgeport. Jerry wound first gear tight and shifted second.....there was a long chirp as the tires broke loose again, and he was gone. A pall of smoke from Jerry's incinerated tires hung in the air as onlookers stared in disbelief.

"That's why my old man never bought that J I wanted him to get," Bob said sadly. "I couldn't resist the urge during the test drive."

"You're doing okay with this animal," I said wryly, thinking of the endless roster of transmissions, universal joints, and mufflers Bob had sent to an early grave. There was also a T-boned Valiant which had been stupid enough to run a red light in front of the K. The K had suffered a piece of bent chrome on the hood, nothing more.

Jerry reappeared about ten minutes later. He parked quietly in his usual spot and went to get a coffee. Nobody ever heckled him again.

Despite its better than average performance, only 400 300J's rolled off the assembly line, a new record low. The muscle car had arrived; only the "older guys" wanted 300s now. The clock was ticking; the 300 letter car had two years to live.