Winfield’s 1962 Ford Econoline

The holidays are over. Thank Christ. I’ve been losing my mind, man—stuck in a fog of family obligations, tinsel, and forced jollity, just aching to get back to the typewriter, to the groove, to thinking again. All I wanted was to sit down, tune out the world, and dive into the twisted depths of old, forgotten shit. But no, they wouldn’t let me—I’m just a prisoner to these goddamn holidays, shackled by the relentless clink of silverware and the hollow sound of forced conversation.

But that’s done. I’m back in the saddle, and if you’re lucky, you are too. Now let’s get the wheels turning again.

To shake off the dust and get the gears greased, let’s dive into something a little out there—something not many people know an lot about, but if you’re tuned in, it’s gold. I’m talking about the 1962 Ford Econoline, dubbed The Pacifica, a one-off freak show built by none other than the master of the bizarre, Gene Winfield, for Ford’s Custom Car Caravan. This was no ordinary custom job. It was an exercise in deliberate imbalance, a celebration of chaos and asymmetry. Two headlights on the driver’s side, just one on the passenger side. Same shit for the taillights. Off-center license plate surrounds, an offset grille, asymmetrical bumpers—it was a rolling tribute to everything that doesn’t quite line up in the world.

The end result? A tiny pickup truck with a sharp, unforgettable look, a brutal statement that told you the designer had a twisted vision and zero fucks to give. After the Custom Caravan tour was over, Gene sold the beast to Troy Ruttman, the Indy car driver, and it vanished into the ether after Ruttman met his tragic end in a racing accident. The truck disappeared, and Gene—hell-bent on reclaiming his creation—spent years trying to track it down. But the trail went cold.

By 2010, Gene threw in the towel on the hunt, and with the help of Optima Batteries, he decided to recreate the Pacifica. The new one was finished around 2012 and took the country by storm. Still, the fate of the original? A goddamn mystery. Gone, just like so many of the good things in life.

It’s almost laughable how scarce photos of the original Pacifica are. A goddamn ghost, man. These two shots? The only ones I could scrounge up on the internet. I vaguely recall a later issue of Custom Trends Magazine that had a whole spread, but that particular issue has alluded me at the time of publishing.

But don’t worry—our salvation comes in the form of the recreation photos, a small consolation prize for our suffering. We’ve got those. And we can stare at them long enough to convince ourselves we’ve seen the original. A sad, sad substitute, but it’ll have to do.