Honda was one of the first Japanese companies to break the American anti-Japanese product stigma. They marketed small motorcycles with a very successful print and later tv campaign. Serious motorcycle people laughed, but Honda was playing a different long term game...
The history of everything as seen by Sebastian Adams in the 1800s ... a visual display of information with a very 19th century feel. The Bible and Archbishop Usher are major inspirations. Play around with magnification and scan around on the page..
The story goes that Los Angeles once had an amazing network of streetcars called the Red Car, but that a car company (GM and/or Ford are usually mentioned) bought it and dismantled it forcing Southern California’s dependency on the automobile. I heard it when I lived in Pasadena and it later surfaced in the movie ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’
It turns out to be urban legend, but the real story is more interesting. There was a large scale mass transit system called the Red Car with something like 1,100 miles of track. It came about when Henry Huntington, the nephew of robber baron Collis Huntington, expected to inherit one of his uncle’s rail roads - the Southern Pacific. The RR’s board was opposed and paid him a huge amount of money to stay out of it. He moved to LA and built an electric utility and bought the local railroad. The RR expanded and stations were built in the hinterlands with subdivisions following (he made a lot on real estate in the process). The main purpose was travel between downtown and the subdivisions - point to point travel from subdivision to subdivision was difficult. It was in large part responsible for the creation of LA’s urban sprawl which became a model for many other cities.
'Henry E. Huntington and the Creation of Southern California’ by William Friedricks details this and other tidbits like the introduction of arts into LA which also involved Hale who had a major impact on the Throop Polytechnic Institute in Pasadena - now a rather well-known place.
Grand Central’s salvation has generally been told as a tale of aroused civic virtue, which it was. Yet it was, as well, an affirming episode for those of us convinced that our political culture has become an endless clown-car act with the same fools always leaping out.
“In New York then, I learn to appreciate the Italian Renaissance,” said Le Corbusier of Grand Central. “It is so well done that you could believe it to be genuine. It even has a strange, new firmness which is not Italian, but American.” It was not seen as such by its owner, New York Central Railroad, which viewed it mostly as a cash cow. As early as 1954, the Central proposed replacing the terminal with something called The Hyberboloid — an I. M. Pei monstrosity that, at 108 stories and 1,600 feet, would have become the world’s tallest building at the time. There was enough public outcry that a scaled-down Hyberboloid was built instead just north of Grand Central, where it was retitled the Pan Am (later the Met Life) Building. Even at a lesser height, it proved every bit as grotesque as promised.
Still unsatisfied, New York Central proposed in 1961 to build a three-level bowling alley over Grand Central’s Main Concourse, which would have required lowering the ceiling from sixty feet to fifteen and cutting off from view its glorious blue mural of the zodiac. This, too, was stopped. Foiled again, New York Central resorted to plastering the terminal with ads and bombarding travelers with canned Muzak, complete with commercials, over the public address system.