A Book Review: 'Car Spy' by Jim Dunne

By Al Vinikour
MotorwayAmerica.com

Clark Kent wasn’t the only mild-mannered guy to have a career in journalism and he wasn’t the only Superman in his profession, either. There’s a soft-spoken man out there named Jim Dunne who would give this red-thonged candy-ass a real run for his money.

Far from being a hulking behemoth with muscles every place he doesn’t have muscles, Dunne has spent almost a half-century perfecting a little-known and lesser-populated profession known as “spy photography.”

Simply put, a spy photographer goes where few men (and even fewer women) have gone to snap early shots of future vehicles that are currently in various test phases.

You’ve all seen them. Years ago, before the advent of digital photography, these photos would show up in such enthusiast magazines as Popular Science (for whom Dunne was the Detroit editor for many years), Popular Mechanics, Car and Driver and a host of others. He made a good living to support his family of seven children by selling these photos to the magazines whose sales would sometimes show a huge increase in monthly sales by showing spy shots of future products.

To accomplish his multitude of missions he resorted to tactics seldom seen outside of the CIA or the Mossad. He had various “encampments” that paralleled or over-looked domestic test tracks and proving grounds primarily of the Big 4 U.S. auto makers (surely you aren’t forgetting American Motors?). He had a route like a mailman but instead of a leather bag and a push cart his tools of the trade were Nikon cameras and long- and short-range lenses. He would travel to the deserts of California and Arizona to hunt for vehicles that were hot-weather testing and also go to the north woods of Michigan, Minnesota and Canada looking for winter testing.

Dunne had more disguises than Peter Sellers when he played Inspector Clouseau in the Pink Panther series. His favorite was a white shirt, narrow, dark tie and a clipboard (I assume he wore pants) and would walk in to secret manufacturing and design facilities like he was from the management team auditing progress.

Occasionally he’d be challenged but with friendly hubris (if there is such a thing, credit Dunne with inventing that as well) he’d generally escape with his dignity (and photographs) intact. He generally didn’t walk in to the buildings with a tripod and a huge camera; rather, he’d usually depend on his trusty Minox camera that took incredible pictures yet could be hidden in the palm of his hand.

Upon leaving he would usually rush to a one-hour film developer, have his film processed and after picking up the photos he would send copies to his various customers (magazines, newspapers, etc.)

Before I go any further it should be pointed out that for those who may “frown” upon Dunne’s supplemental vocation he handled it as ethically as a spy can do. For instance, he would never ask an employee to compromise his own company by accepting photographs of secret projects from them; he never sold his photographs to competitive auto companies (although all the companies would enlarge and pore over his photos when they’d appear in print — sometimes devoting poster-sized wall hangings to use in product planning meetings) and he certainly never used any photos or even  stories of his adventures as leverage to gain admittance to, or glean information from manufacturing employees.

And what were some of these adventures I’m alluding to? Hold on to your steering wheels with both hands.

In one instance he “somehow” gained admittance to the inner-chamber where Pontiac had its future products in various stages of development in a company garage in the headquarters building. He had selected the lunch hour to make his “tour” because it was the least-likely time of the day where he’d be seen and questioned by internals.

As he walked along the row(s) of vehicles, careful to not trip on his own drooling, he thought he spotted movement in the back seat of one of the vehicles. He spotted movement, alright. It turned out to be a Pontiac executive and one of the secretaries that were apparently doing their own suspension tests of the vehicle’s seats. They spotted Jim about the same time he spotted them. Rather than stand around and have a discussion of the weather and the nation’s economy, an unspoken agreement was telegraphed between them and he left the premises and never mentioned the couple’s name to anyone and conversely, the couple never told anyone about encountering Dunne’s “noon walk,” either.

In one of the book’s more intriguing chapters Dunne discusses his purchase of a small plot of land that butted right up to the Chrysler desert proving ground in Arizona. It was actually couched in sort of a U-turn portion of the track. Chrysler hadn’t realized the land was not theirs and was purchased by Dunne after what seemed like some “considerable” haggling with the land’s owner. He referred to this land as his “Ranchette." Long story short, he eventually sold the land several years later for 24 times what he purchased it for.

The book is full of delightfully true chapters, including what life is like for automotive journalists — hint: more than a few have vowed they would do that job for free just to take advantage of the perks), some of the quirky characters who made the industry what it is today (good and bad — and even describes how he came to be one of, if not the only man in industrial history who ever had a “Wanted” poster put out with his likeness on it by a corporation.

For all the “angst” he caused a slew of automotive public relations types he arguably remains one of the most beloved and admired men in his profession. He retired several years ago but just like one of the military dogs who because of their training will duck under an obstacle if they hear an aircraft approaching, Dunne still stops in mid-sentence if he happens to see a camouflaged car or truck go by where he’s standing. You don’t have to have Superman’s x-ray vision to see Dunne’s tryptophan levels rising.

The book is 225 page, but not one of the pages is boring. Many are filled with some of the spy shots that made him the legend he became and diagrams of some of the “pillboxes on the Maginot Line” that Dunne successfully “attacked” in his career. Even at his current age I’m guessing to be at about 147 he’s still active enough to be a familiar sight to his colleagues. I highly recommend this book to not only those who are in the auto industry and/or have heard of Jim Dunne, but also to those who like to read a non-fiction book that reads like an adventure novel.

My life has been made better having Jim Dunne as a friend and I’m sure that after reading his book he’ll feel like an old pal to the reader as well.

Car Spy is published by Car Tech, 39966 Grand Avenue, North Branch, Minn. 55056. Their phone number is 800/551-4754 (www.cartechbooks.com). The book lists for $19.95 and can be ordered online from Amazon.com.