I remember the first time I encountered the name Dean Jeffries. It was on the glossy pages of car magazines, especially the revered Rod & Custom. At the time, I was just a kid with a heart full of dreams, captivated by the world of custom cars. Then, there was the “Mantaray,” a creation that seemed to leap right off these glossy pages and into my imagination. I recall how the Mantaray became a holy grail among us young enthusiasts during my slot car days. Ah, those were the days of wooden carrying boxes filled with chassis and speed-calculated gear combinations, each piece an essential part of the “kool” aura you needed to carry onto the neighborhood racetrack.
The Mantaray’s debut at the 1963 Grand National Roadster Show was monumental. There it was, standing alongside the imposing Tex Smith’s “XR-6,” a hot rod that went on to snatch the coveted America’s Most Beautiful Roadster trophy that same year. But while the XR-6 dazzled with its presence, the Mantaray, with its smooth lines and innovative design, captured my heart. The era’s excitement was palpable; every ride to the track was filled with hope and adrenaline.
As a kid, I was glued to the television, swept away by the adventures of the characters in 77 Sunset Strip. Here, I first saw the Kookie T come to life, another kool hot rod that received detailed attention from Dean. Dean, the man behind these legendary cars, was my idol. He worked on some of the coolest hot rods, and I admired each one, dreaming of someday owning a custom ride.
Fast-forward a few decades and I cruised the freeway, the sun dipping low behind the foothills near Burbank. As I approached my old haunts, I couldn’t help but glance to the side—the familiar sight of Dean’s shop greeted me. Cars from countless films sat just outside, a graveyard of memories begging to be revisited. Every glimpse into that yard sent a rush of nostalgia coursing through me; it was like a time capsule of my youth, each vehicle a story, invoking memories of my childhood fantasies.
Dean’s name resonates within the custom car community. He was born in 1933 in Southern California where the custom car culture thrived.
Dean’s journey began in the early 1950s at George Barris’ shop. Here, he cut his teeth in the world of painting and pinstriping. The finesse in his brushwork quickly established him as a standout. Those early days laid the groundwork for a career redefining automotive culture.
By the late 1950s, armed with skill and ambition, Dean opened his sanctuary—Jeffries Studio of Style. This was where the magic truly began. The Mantaray, with its hand-formed aluminum body and raw, roaring Cobra engine, became his hallmark. It wasn’t just a car; it was a statement of ingenuity.
But Dean’s talents didn’t stop at custom builds. He ventured into Hollywood with creations like the “Monkeemobile,” the sleek “Black Beauty” from The Green Hornet, and the apocalyptic “Landmaster” from Damnation Alley, which I would see from the freeway for years.
The innovative features of the 1962 Ford Cougar 406 concept car—gullwing doors and hidden headlights—illustrated his forward-thinking mindset. Dean continuously pushed the envelope, transforming the boundaries of automotive design with each new venture.
Despite the accolades and industry acclaim, Dean embodied an unpretentious humility. His commitment to his craft inspired his contemporaries and generations of car enthusiasts to dream bigger and bolder. As I look back through the years, Dean’s legacy remains a powerful reminder of the relentless creativity that defines the custom car world. Each glance toward the past stirs a longing to relive those early days when hot rods reigned supreme. MR