1970 Grand Prix Project

I’ll never forget my first time. I was too young to know what to do with her. Didn’t make enough money to treat her how she deserved to be treated. In the end she left me for another, older guy that probably remembered when he was 19 and found himself in the same position I was in. I still can see her in my memory like it was yesterday but I don’t have a single photo to share with others. That first time I owned that 70 GP was all it took to get me hooked.

Being 19 and working part time while putting yourself through college meant you had to be resourceful and not too proud to beg to get what you “needed”. My buddy Tom grew up around an older brother that could do anything to a car and all of his buddies were just the same. They always had neat stuff. Mostly Fords. Andy was restoring a ‘66 Fairlane GTA convertible. Paulie had a ‘67 or ‘68 Mustang Sportroof with a very healthy 289. It sounded incredible. Tom picked up a ’66 Thunderbird that transported us back and forth to Lake Geneva while we were not quite in our “right minds”. For some reason we decided it needed its 428 rebuilt, so out came the hoist and off came the heads. Crazy kids.

Anyway, come one sunny afternoon Tom gets a call from one of the guys. An acquaintance had an old Grand Prix that he wanted to get rid of…NOW. He was fairly local so we got the address and drove on over. Upon lifting the garage door, the GP was barely visible. It was covered in lawn chairs, boxes, dirt, raccoon tracks, you name it. Luckily the windows were left open for 15 years so we were sure the interior had to be mint. NOT. The nose had vertical fins in the grill so I knew it was a ’70. Off to a good start I thought.

After 20 minutes of unearthing the car from the debris, we were able to better assess what was sitting there. The console was pulled out and laying over the seats. The shifter was on the floor and I don’t mean where the factory put it! The carpet was pulled up over the pedals and the buckets were both laying down in the forward position. Sorry sight so far. We were able to pop the hood for a look and saw some gleaming chrome valve covers. Hmmmmm. We asked and were told the motor was a 455 rebuilt a long, long, time ago and the name of the had completely vanished from the guy’s memory. Rebuilt? Sure it was. Whatever.

The coolant was still green and the oil looked OK. Tranny fluid was almost full and clean. The brake pedal felt good enough for a 19 year old so we topped off the master cylinder and pumped the pedal. No fluid on the floor yet. There was no gas in the car as far as we could tell which actually was a blessing. We ran out to get some fuel and pull the battery from Tom’s Suburban to see if it would turn over. A mini compressor brought the flattened whitewall tires to life. We put a few gallons in the tank and cleaned up the battery terminals. To our surprise the lights, signals, horn, wipers, etc all worked. We primed the carb and crossed our fingers. A twist of the key showed signs of waking from hibernation. It cranked for a few then we let it sit. A second attempt gave us a little taste if but for a moment. The third twist of the key was the charm. That 455 woke up and it was PISSED! She sounded great. The dual exhaust held up all these years and man did it sound fantastic. We were all out-of-our minds psyched! The only problem was the shifter wasn’t even mounted. How the hell are we going to move this thing ?

I knew nothing about them at the time but Tom gets in and just turns the collar on the steering wheel. She lurched forward a fraction of an inch…it was GO TIME! I jumped in the passenger seat and Tom inched her out of the garage for the first time in ages. It was a truly awesome sight. We rolled her down the alley kind of easing her into motion again after all these years. She was happy to be out and about again for sure. After a ginger stroll around the block Tom asks me, “I wonder if this has a POSI.” (Forgive us Pontiac faithful. We didn’t know what a Saf-T-Trak was at the time. At least he didn’t call it a Detroit Locker!) Anyway, there was only one way to find out if it was a “posi”. He holds the brake in the middle of a side street and just stands on the gas. He had no intention of letting up either. It seemed like 10 minutes but we just sat there disintegrating the tires effortlessly. It was a magical moment.

Needless to say, Tom was buying the car immediately and we had no intention of ending our test drive anytime soon. The next half an hour was spent simply driving around the neighborhood doing burnouts at every stop sign. A car was double parked in the middle of the road while two guys were talking like the street was theirs. We took the time to pull around them, backed up and did a burnout in their faces that you could probably see from space! The only thought going through my head was WE RULE!!! It was a day I’ll never forget.

Tom did buy the car and spent the next few weeks going through the brakes, installing the shifter, new carpet, console, etc. The body wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad. It was Sierra Yellow with a saddle top and interior. Not my first choice but it wouldn’t attract law enforcement so it was OK with us. I don’t remember the code on the motor but it was in-fact a 455 at the very least. This motor was angry when you wanted it to be and docile for everyday driving as well. It had an open rear end but that was fine for the time being. After a few months of ownership, Tom finally gave in to my badgering and sold it to me. I put some BFGs on the deep Rally IIs and drove her for years. My wife (then girlfriend) still wakes up in a cold sweat from time to time with nightmares of taking sidestreets at 80 MPH in Chicago. There was a time coming home from a blues bar years later, the GP packed with 800 lbs of friends where I remember yelling out, “110 in a turn!!!!” and unleashed my best Dukes of Hazard holler! Idiot.

Those first few years I addressed a few mechanical issues such as having the rear end rebuilt and putting Rally IIs and tires on it. It drove so nicely with no rattles or squeaks. The itch to really attack the car struck so I took it out to Mike Ardito at TriPOwer Automotive to have all of the rusty areas completely cut-out and new metal was fabricated. It only needed a couple of spots around the rear wheel lips and lower quarters and a spot on the decklid/tulip panel. Once hit with epoxy I continued to drive it as-is for some time. In February of 2011 Mike and I began to make plans for our yearly Full Size Pontiac Chi-Town Shindig. That was all the motivation I needed to take the next step.

I brought her home and began driving her recreationally for a bit until Frank called me up and asks, “Do you want a built 462 Pontiac motor and TH400 trans?” Ummmmm. YES.

Once the block and trans was in I began reassembly and detailing of the engine. Although the Edelbrock Performer RPM manifold looked great, I wanted more of a stock appearance. I ground off the lettering, bead blasted the manifold and painted it Pontiac Blue. The intake runners on the manifold sat quite a bit higher now and the alternator bracket would no longer fit. I cut out a section of the bracket and ground down the rough edges. With some judicious sanding and a coat of underhood black, it looks like a factory bracket again. All bolts for the accessories were ARP bolts painted to match either the block or the component they were attached to. It began to look like a complete car again. 

I dragged her back to FD Customs so I could cut the old exhaust off and drop the dented and bruised gas tank. The new gas tank was sumped. We’ll be running new fuel lines, and electric pump as well as correcting some old brake lines and bushings as long as we’re under there. A tweaked Holley 823.8 CFM carb was purchased from SCS Performance to feed the increased needs this 462 has for fuel.