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Junkyard Gem: 1964 Pontiac Catalina Custom Ventura

Like Impala, Skylark, Malibu and Silverado (among many others), the Ventura name began its career as the designation for a trim level or option package used on another GM model, then became a model name in its own right. Initially a designation for a snazzed-up Pontiac Catalina two- or four-door hardtop, the Ventura name moved over to a Pontiac-ized version of the Chevy Nova for 1971. Today's Junkyard Gem, found in a Northern California car graveyard, proudly bears both Catalina and Ventura badging. Actually, the Catalina name itself started out as a trim level for the Chieftain and Star Chief models of the 1950s, just to confuse everybody. By the time this car was built, the Catalina was the cheapest of four Pontiac models built on the same full-size B-Body platform as the big Chevrolets and Olds 88s of the time (the Star Chief, Bonneville and Grand Prix ranked above it on the 1964 Pontiac Prestige-O-Meter). The 1964 Catalina four-door hardtop with the Custom Ventura package offered a lot of swank per dollar, with a price starting at $3,063. That's about $29,821 when converted to inflated 2023 dollars. The main benefit of the Custom Ventura package was an interior done up entirely in Morrokide upholstery. Morrokide was the name GM applied to Naugahyde fake leather when used in Pontiac vehicles; when used in Buicks, it was known as Cordaveen, while Oldsmobile Naugahyde was called Morocceen. Naugahyde took its name from the town of Naugatuck, Connecticut, where it was invented. This car's Morrokide is in rough shape. In fact, everything about this car is decayed and probably infectious. You know to be careful when a junkyard car has warnings about rat feces inked on the glass. That said, I couldn't resist examining the 8-track tapes that littered the interior. Here's Hotel California, the 1976 hit album by the Eagles. Supertramp's Paris, a live album recorded from the 1979 Breakfast in America tour, is here as well. Here's The Best of Carly Simon, from 1975. The tapes were played on this Sparkomatic player, which probably lived in the glovebox or under the seat. The factory radio was AM-only, and includes the frequency markings for the atomic-attack CONELRAD emergency frequencies. 1964 was the last year for mandatory CONELRAD radios in the United States.

Junkyard Gem: 1986 Pontiac Sunbird Sedan

The J-Body platform was a giant seller for GM, staying in production from the first 1981 Chevrolet Cavalier all the way through that final 2005 Pontiac Sunfire. Outside of North America, Opels and Daewoos and Isuzus and Holdens and Vauxhalls and even Toyotas flew the J flag, and better than ten million rolled out of showrooms during that quarter-century. In the United States, Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, Pontiac, Buick, and Cadillac each sold J-Bodies. Of those, the Pontiac Sunbird often had the sportiest image, more cavalier than even the Cavalier Z24. I've documented a discarded Sunbird Turbo in the past, and now here's a bread-and-butter Sunbird sedan from the same era. The Sunbird name began its life in 1976 on the Pontiac-badged version of the rear-wheel-drive Buick Skyhawk, itself based on the Chevy Vega. The first J-Body Pontiacs had J2000 badges, then 2000 badges, then 2000 Sunbird badges, until finally the pure non-2000 Sunbird appeared for the 1985 model year. I remain disappointed that the 2000 name didn't survive into our current century, because we could have had a 2000 Pontiac 2000, or just the "2000 2000" for short. The base engine in the '86 Sunbird was this SOHC 1.8-liter four of Brazilian origin, rated at 84 horsepower. Originally developed by Opel in the late 1970s, this engine family went into cars built all across the sprawling GM empire. 84 horsepower doesn't sound like much— and it wasn't much, even by 1986 standards— but at least the original buyer of this car had the smarts to get the five-speed manual transmission. This car weighed just 2,336 pounds, a good 500 pounds lighter than the current Chevy Sonic, so performance with the manual transmission was tolerable. The '86 Sunbird's interior was much nicer than those in its Cavalier siblings, though nowhere near the Cadillac Cimarron's reading on the Plush-O-Meter. An AM/FM/cassette stereo with auto reverse was serious audio hardware in a cheap car during the middle 1980s, when even a scratchy factory AM-only radio cost the equivalent of several hundred 2020 bucks. The price tag of this car started at $7,495, or about $17,500 in 2020 dollars. The cheapest possible Cavalier sedan went for $6,888 in 1986, but a zero-option base '86 Cavalier would make you think you'd been transported to the Soviet Union every time you slunk into its harsh confines. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

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.