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Junkyard Gem: 2008 Pontiac G5 Coupe

In the grim early days of the Great Recession, the situation at GM's Pontiac Division didn't feel so great but there was some cause for optimism. The Solstice still had a certain glow, the Holden Commodore-based G8 had just arrived, and vehicle shoppers could stride into their local Pontiac showrooms and choose from eight different models bearing the iconic arrowhead badge. Yes, there were still new Torrents and Grand Prix and Vibes for sale in 2008, and of course the Cavalier-twin Sunfire had been replaced by the Cobalt-twin G5 by that time. Here's one of those G5s, found in a Colorado Springs car graveyard. It wasn't long after this car was built that everything went to hell for Pontiac. In April of 2009, GM announced that the Pontiac Division would be "phased out" over the next few years. Just to drive home the point, GM itself filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy five weeks later. GM had already offed Oldsmobile—a marque dating back to 1897, making it nearly 30 years Pontiac's senior—five years earlier, so everybody knew there would be no reprieve in this case. Just to confuse everybody, Pontiac dealers offered a G3-badged Chevy Aveo (aka Daewoo Kalos) to sell alongside the G5 for 2009, but by 2010 there were just two new Pontiac models still standing in the United States: the G6 and the Vibe. Just over 70,000 G5s were sold in the United States during the 2007-2009 model years, making these cars fairly rare. The Cobalt/G5 ignition-switch fiasco of the mid-2010s really hammered their resale value at the time. Sometimes the definition of "Gem" refers to historical value, not the happier kind. Speaking of ignition switches, the key is still in this one. That generally means that a junkyard vehicle is a dealership trade-in or insurance total that couldn't sell at auction. This one is a base model, which listed at $15,675 (about $22,040 in 2023 dollars). The snazzier G5 GT started at $19,850 ($27,911 now) that year. The engine in this car is a 2.2-liter Ecotec four-banger rated at 148 horsepower and 152 pound-feet (the GT got a 2.4 with 171 hp/167 lb-ft). A five-speed manual was standard equipment, but the buyer of this car paid extra for the automatic. GM stuck these little "Mark of Excellence" badges on the fenders of its vehicles starting in 2005, then ditched the idea in 2009. I have vivid memories of this logo from the seatbelt buttons in my parents' 1973 Sportvan Beauville.

Junkyard Gem: 2002 Pontiac Aztek

The General's Pontiac Division sold the Aztek for the 2001 through 2005 model years, and — despite enjoying something of a cultural rebirth in recent years — it is generally considered to be one of the worst cars of all time. The idea of using a minivan platform as the basis for a rough-and-tough-looking crossover with plenty of outdoor-lifestyle amenities wasn't the problem, since many vehicle manufacturers have printed bales of money using that formula. What doomed the Aztek was its hideous appearance and sticker price too lofty for its underemployed-at-the-time Generation X target demographic. Still, the Aztek proved to be perfectly suited for the outdoor activities that Coloradans love: hiking, camping, fishing, skiing, hauling mud-caked golden retrievers around, etc., and so you'll still find lots of Azteks on the roads of the Centennial State. Here's an Aztek Yellow Aztek (yes, that's really the paint color's official title) residing just a few rows from a '76 Checker Taxicab in a Denver self-service yard. Sure, it does look like a vehicle built to the specifications of a six-year-old who decreed a mashup between a Datsun F-10 and a Fisher-Price Little People Travel Together Airplane, but so what? There's a built-in air compressor to blow up your inflatable rafts and volleyballs, a tent attachment that turns the rear of the van into a camper, 12-volt power plugs all over the vehicle (years before this became commonplace on ordinary minivans and SUVs), and running-gear commonality with a jillion Ventures, Silhouettes, Montanas and Trans Sports. Buick managed to de-uglify the Aztek (somewhat) and sold it as the Rendezvous through 2007, but the Aztek never could win over many people with this face. I see plenty of Azteks and Rendezvouses in Denver-area wrecking yards, and I've documented a handful over the years. This one came fully loaded from the factory, with the Corvette-style heads-up display in full effect. The center console was a removable cooler, which was a great idea Â… except for the fact that this cooler holds five standard 12-ounce cans. Michigan residents tell me that this must have been intentional on the part of the Detroit-based Aztek designers, because Michiganders are expected to chug one beer out of a sixer as they walk from the liquor store to the car in the parking lot Â… which makes me extra cautious whenever I'm driving in the Wolverine State.

Looking Back At Oprah's Free-Car Giveaway 10 Years Later

Molly Vielweber's Pontiac G6 appears unremarkable at first glance. It wears forest green paint, rolls on five-spoke aluminum wheels, and it has a sizeable scrape in the driver's side door, the scar of a decade's worth of hard use. You wouldn't notice it parked at a big box store or cruising on the highway. Pontiac made hundreds of thousands of G6s in the 2000s, and a lot are still on the road. It's unremarkable in every way except for the front license plate, which reads, "Oprah 6." But this is not just any G6. This car is a part of television history. Vielweber won her G6 10 years ago at a taping of The Oprah Winfrey Show, when Oprah kicked off her 19th season in dramatic fashion by giving all 276 members of the studio audience a free car. It was an unprecedented stunt that changed lives, generated controversy and ultimately failed to provide enough of a marketing lift for Pontiac, which would be shuttered just over five years later. September 13 marks the 10-year anniversary of the memorable event, which caught everyone, including audience members, by surprise. In a masterful display of showmanship, Oprah dialed up the suspense to match the enormity – and cost – of the event. First she gave away 11 cars, which would have been a landmark TV promotion by itself. But then she coyly announced: "I've got a little twist." Models circulated throughout the audience carrying silver platters loaded with white boxes wrapped in red ribbon. One contained a set of keys, Oprah implied, for another audience member to win the final car. "Do not open it. Do not shake it," she commanded the crowd. Finally, with the suspense built to a fevered pitch, everyone opened their box. They all had keys. "You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! Everybody gets a car!" Oprah exclaimed. "Everybody gets a car! Everybody gets a car!" This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Everybody did get a car. But not everyone kept it. William Toebe attended the show with his wife, Jillaine, and he immediately thought of the tax implications, which stretched to $6,000 or more for some audience members. It was a tough reality for many in the audience that day, some of which had been selected based on their need for a new car. "That responsible part of me stepped forward and wondered 'where am I going to get the money to pay the taxes?'" he recalled.