Remembering Pontiac.
GM's cutting edge cars--when driving was fun.
The first time I heard the name, Pontiac, it was attached to an Ottawa chief in the Great Lakes region. He died in 1769, having made a great name for himself fighting the British in the French and Indian War. General Motors liked his image so much they named an automobile division after him. In July 2009, the Pontiac line of cars died, after also making a great name for itself. Many are still mourning the loss.
Americans who enjoy racy styling and peppy handling loved Pontiacs. In 1964, Ronny and the Daytonas immortalized the G.T.O in a song of the same name, earning a gold record for selling a million copies. The energy in the lyrics and a great beat (a measurement used in Dick Clark’s “rate-a-record” segment on American Bandstand) stoked sales and owners egos.
One of my great high school memories occurred when I hitchhiked out of town. A good-looking young lady driving a blue Pontiac Bonneville convertible (with the top down—the car not the lady) gave me a ride. She wore a head scarf, the tails flying in the breeze. When she stepped on the gas pedal, the countryside flew by. For a teenage boy, the feeling was indescribable.
The Firebird, a muscle car, created an image owners loved. It described who you were—the type of person who drove a machine that looked fast standing still. The car was probably the most popular one offered by Pontiac. To add distinct personality to the vehicle, many decorated the road rocket with pinstriping.
The Solstice, pictured above, built from 2005 to 2010 in Delaware, was a true sportscar. And it didn’t disappoint enthusiasts. The style and handling placed it among the top of its class. Where is it now? When GM did away with the Pontiac brand and sold the factory, production of the Solstice ended forever. Now, they are collected by people who value an American sportscar with a great design. My daughter owns one of these classics, giving it the love and attention it deserves.
One of these days, GM will remember the cars people loved in the past are more than machines. They are storehouses of memories and pride in ownership.
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Those were coveted cars in my generation. But, for me, it was the 1965 Ford Mustang. I had two, but not at the same time. Neither were high powered, but each was a six cylinder with an automatic transmission. They were frequently shined up with good old Turtle Wax and the Chrome Baby Moon polished to perfection.