"This is the story of the 426 HEMI. The engine the racing authorities banned. The engine the insurance companies feared. The engine the government regulated into extinction. And the engine that its own creators — the engineers at Chrysler — tried twice to kill before it ever reached the people who needed it most. What you are about to hear is not in the press releases. It is not in the official Chrysler history. It is in the dyno sheets, the NHRA rulebooks, the insurance actuarial tables, and the testimony of the engineers who were in that factory in 1963. Three chapters. Each one reveals a different institution that tried to stop the 426 HEMI. Stay until chapter three — because chapter three is the one where Chrysler looked at the most powerful engine they had ever built and chose to lie about it. In public. In writing. For seven years."
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In February 1964, Richard Petty crossed the finish line at the Daytona 500 more than a
full lap ahead of the nearest car. The engine underneath that Plymouth had existed for exactly
one year. It had been designed in 11 months by a small team of engineers in Michigan.
It had never been tested in a real race before that day. It won anyway. By the end of that 1964
season, that engine had won 26 of 62 NASCAR races. Nearly half. Three months after that season ended,
NASCAR banned it. But here is the part of this story that nobody tells you.
The biggest threat to the 426 Hemi was never NASCAR. It was never the government. It was
never Ford or Chevrolet. It was Chrysler themselves. This is the story of the 426 Hemi,
the engine the racing authorities banned, the engine the insurance companies feared,
the engine the government regulated into extinction and the engine that its own creators,
the engineers at Chrysler, tried twice to kill before it ever reached the people who needed it
most. What you are about to hear is not in the press releases. It is not in the official Chrysler
history. It is in the dyno sheets, the NRA rulebooks, the insurance actuarial tables
and a testimony of the engineers who were in that factory in 1963. Three chapters. Each one
reveals a different institution that tried to stop the 426 Hemi. Stay until chapter three,
because chapter three is the one where Chrysler looked at the most powerful engine they had ever
built and chose to lie about it. In public. In writing. For seven years. January 1963.
Highland Park, Michigan. Chrysler Corporation headquarters. The engineers in the performance
division had a problem. Ford was coming. The 427 cubic inch side oiler was already in development
and everyone in Detroit knew it. Pontiac had the super duty. Chevrolet had the mystery motor.
The muscle car wars of the 1960s were about to start and Chrysler was bringing a knife to a
gunfight. Tom Hoover was the man they gave the job to. Chief engineer of the performance division.
He looked at what Chrysler had, the 426 wedge engine, and reached back into the 1950s.
Chrysler had built a hemispherical combustion chamber engine in 1951. The firepower. Shelved
in 1958. Too expensive. Too heavy. Too complex. But the engineering principle behind it was the
most efficient cylinder head design ever put into a production engine. More airflow. Better
combustion. More power from the same displacement than any conventional engine could match.
Hoover and his team married that abandoned design to the existing 426 wedge block and spent 11
months turning an idea on a drawing board into an engine that would dominate professional
motorsport for the next decade. They called it the Hemi. The 426 cubic inch second generation
hemispherical V8. The nickname they gave it in the factory was more honest. They called it
The Elephant. The Daytona 500. February 23rd 1964. The 426 Hemi had never raced before. Not once.
The engine in Richard Petty's Plymouth had been built, tested and delivered directly to the track
with no competitive outings to prove it worked under race conditions.
Petty won by more than a lap. The top four finishing positions in the 1964 Daytona 500
were all Hemi powered Chrysler products. First, second, third and fifth. Ford finished nowhere.
What happened next was inevitable and it was the first time an institution tried to stop the 426
Hemi from doing what it was built to do. Three months after the 1964 season ended,
NASCAR's Bill France made a decision. The 426 Hemi was banned from NASCAR competition beginning
with the 1965 season. The official reason was administrative. The Hemi was not available in
a production car sold to the public, therefore it could not legally race under NASCAR's homologation
rules. That was the official reason. The real reason was competitive pressure from Ford.
Ford's racing program had been outspent, out-engineered and publicly humiliated at Daytona.
Ford went to NASCAR. Ford had arguments. Ford had political relationships that dated back to
the early days of stock car racing. Ford had leverage. NASCAR's rulebook was changed. The
Hemi was gone. Chrysler's response was extraordinary. Rather than accept the ban,
Chrysler withdrew from NASCAR entirely for the 1965 season. No Dodge. No Plymouth. No Hemi.
And then Chrysler made a threat that almost nobody talks about today.
Chrysler's engineers had been working on something. A version of the 426 Hemi with
dual overhead camshafts. On the dyno, this experimental engine was producing numbers
in the region of 900 horsepower. Chrysler went back to NASCAR with a message. If the
Hemi stays banned and the Ford overhead cam engine is allowed, this is what we bring next.
900 horsepower. In a stock car. On a super speedway. NASCAR blinked. On June 15,
1965, NASCAR officially rescinded the ban but with conditions. The Hemi had to be available
in a production car sold to the public before it could return to the track. For most manufacturers
that would have been a limitation. A bureaucratic obstacle to manage over years. For Chrysler,
it was an accident waiting to happen. January 1965. Program A-102. Chrysler begins work on
the street version of the 426 Hemi. They reduced the compression ratio from 12.5 to 10.25 to 1,
allowing the engine to run on pump gasoline. Changed the camshaft. Switched the heads from
aluminium to cast iron for durability. Redesigned the intake and exhaust manifolds.
What they produced was, in every meaningful sense, the same engine that had dominated Daytona.
Just slightly less violent. The street Hemi was ready for the 1966 model year.
Chrysler returned to NASCAR. And it won again. But something else had happened during the process of
making the Hemi street legal. Something that Chrysler's marketing team and engineering division
had quietly agreed on. Something that would not become public knowledge for decades.
And that is where this story gets interesting. Two chapters down. One to go. And chapter three
is where the official story and the real story stop matching. Because the 426 Hemi was rated at
425 horsepower from the factory. Every brochure. Every specification sheet. Every dealer order form.
That number was a lie. And Chrysler knew it was a lie when they printed it.
Subscribe if you want the next video in this series. The button is on screen. Chapter three.
Right now. The street 426 Hemi was rated at 425 horsepower at 5000 rpm. That is what every
brochure said. That is what every dealer told every customer. That is what the insurance companies
use to calculate premiums. That is what the Enra used to classify the car for competition.
There was one problem. The 426 Hemi did not make 425 horsepower at 5000 rpm.
Not even close. A machine shop in Massachusetts rebuilt a 1968 street Hemi to factory specifications
and put it on a dyno. At 5000 rpm, the exact speed Chrysler claimed 425 horsepower,
the engine produced 459 horsepower. Not 425. 459. Then they kept the dyno running.
They let the engine breathe past 5000 rpm the way the hemispherical cylinder heads were actually
designed to operate. At 5950 rpm, the engine reached its true peak. 494 horsepower. Almost
70 more than Chrysler had ever admitted. Chrysler did not make a mistake. They did
not measure incorrectly. They chose that number. Deliberately. Specifically. Insurance companies
in the mid-1960s were classifying performance cars as high risk. The formula was simple.
More horsepower meant higher premiums. Sometimes catastrophically higher. A young man buying a
Hemi-powered car could find his insurance premium costing more than the car payments.
Chrysler had built the most powerful street engine in America. If they told the truth
about what it produced, they would price it out of the market they had built it for.
So they rated it at 5000 rpm. Not 5950. At 5000 rpm, the engine made what the spec sheet said.
The number was technically accurate. It was also deliberately misleading.
The Enra used the advertised horsepower figure to classify cars for competition.
Every Hemi-powered car that ever ran in Natra Superstock was classified using a number that
Chrysler knew understated the engine's actual output. Every race result. Every class record.
Every trophy. Set by an engine running under a false identity. Chrysler did this for 7 years.
From 1966 to the last Hemi built in 1971. Not one press release. Not one revised specification.
Not one correction. The most powerful production V8 engine in American history was sold to the
public under a number that made it sound like the second most powerful engine Chrysler made.
But here is the final revelation. The one that changes everything. In 1971, the last year the
426 Hemi was offered, Chrysler published two horsepower figures for their engines for the
very first time. Gross and net. Side by side. In the same document. Every other engine in the
Chrysler line-up lost between 30 and 40 percent of its rated horsepower when measured on the net
scale. The 426 Hemi lost 9 percent. Every other engine was rated at numbers that inflated its
output. The Hemi was the only engine in the line-up rated at numbers that understated its
output. In its final year, Chrysler accidentally proved in their own official documentation
that the 426 Hemi had been producing more power than they had ever admitted.
The 426 Hemi was not just an engine. It was a document. One that three separate institutions
tried to suppress. NASCAR banned it because it was winning too completely. The government's
emissions regulations killed it because its displacement was incompatible with the air
quality standards arriving in 1971. And Chrysler, the company that built it, hid its real output
numbers for seven years because telling the truth would have made it too expensive for the
customers they had built it for. 10,904 Street Hemi's were built between 1966 and 1971. Not
10,000. Not 11,000. Precisely 10,904. Each one left the factory with a specification sheet
that understated what it could do. Each one raced under a number that was not honest.
Each one passed through insurance assessments calculated on a lie. The engine that Chrysler
tried to kill. The engine that NASCAR tried to ban. The engine that the government ultimately
succeeded in ending. It survived all three of them. It is still racing today. Aluminium blocks
derived from the original 426 design still run in ra-top-fuel and funny-car competition.
The fastest accelerating vehicles on earth. The people who built it in 11 months in a factory
in Michigan in 1963 gave it a nickname. They called it the elephant. Elephants do not die
quietly. Now, everything I showed you today was about what three institutions did when they
encountered an engine that exceeded their acceptable limits. But there is another engine
built by a different American manufacturer in a different decade that faced the same type of
suppression. Not from NASCAR. Not from the government. But from its own engineers who
were told the night before a major race that the engine was too powerful to be allowed on the track.
That story involves a number that should not have been physically possible in that era. It
involves a decision made at 11 p.m. the night before qualifying that changed American
motorsport history. That is next week. Subscribe. The button is on screen.