If you’ve been following PontiacV8.com for any length of time, you’ve likely recognized that I try incorporating vintage images of Pontiacs in my blog posts as often as possible. While I enjoy living in today’s world and the technologies that surround us, I’m also very nostalgic. I find reminiscing about the times, places, and people captured in such photos quite satisfying.
In addition to the many photos my dad took of his Pontiacs back then that you’ve seen in past blogs, my collection includes hundreds of images of vintage Pontiacs that I’ve acquired or were given/donated to me over the years. I also collect vintage images of Omaha, Nebraska (where I was born, raised, and still reside) that depict many of the businesses and neighborhoods as I remember them during my youth.
While recently perusing my Omaha photo collection, an image of the Food City grocery story located at 90th and Lake Streets struck me. How could that storefront possibly relate to Pontiacs, you might ask? It’s how my mind (and probably yours, too) forever correlates a particular location with a specific vehicle. And while this experience isn’t exactly first-hand for me, it was my dad’s detailed explanation then and his exact recollections of it to this day that—for more than 30 years now—immediately conjures thoughts of a certain Pontiac every time I pass that Omaha intersection.
You’re likely familiar with my dad’s ’72 Trans Am. It was originally delivered through General Pontiac on the Council Bluffs, Iowa side of the metro area in April 1972. He purchased it October 1987 and begun its restoration shortly thereafter. “It had to be in 1988,” my dad says, “because I was still working on my ’72, but one afternoon I made a sales call on the Food City grocery store. I was driving my Nocturne Blue ’79 Trans Am and as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I looked over and off, setting by itself was a white ‘70-73 Trans Am. You couldn’t miss it.”
The Trans Am’s blue stripes immediately caught my dad’s attention. “I noticed them right away,” he explains. “They were faded, but I knew then it had to be a ’70-72. I parked my ’79 Trans Am a row away—by itself, like always—and walked over on foot. As I got closer, I noticed the elongated honeycomb grille texture indicating that it was 1972. When I saw the local license plates, I remember thinking, ‘I didn’t know there was one ’72 Trans Am in Omaha until I found mine, and now—only months later—there are two?!’”
The Trans Am’s plastic front spoiler was cracked from top to bottom. “The crack was off to one side of the centerline and someone had drilled a few small holes on each side of it and stitched it up with wire,” he recalls. “The wheel flares were complete, but the welting was yellowed with age, which suggested to me that it was an original paint car. It was equipped with the correct 15 x 7” Rally II wheels with flat trim rings and some type of then-modern white-lettered tires. Its red PMD center caps were faded and the chromed exhaust extensions were weathered.”
Looking inside, my dad found black and white custom interior with perforated vinyl seats. “It was an automatic and I recall seeing the power window switch on the front console, tilt steering wheel, and heated rear glass. I also believe it had power door locks. Overall, it was a used car but completely original and generally well cared for. Since I had just gotten mine, I wasn’t interested in buying it, but I hoped to talk to the owner to see if I could use their Trans Am as a template for how mine should be,” he says.
My dad knew his sales call would take only a few minutes. He reasoned that it would also give the Trans Am’s owner time to finish shopping and he’d then wait for them to walk out so he could ask to take a closer look. “I walked in the store and kept looking out the windows to make sure it was still there,” he recalls. “While in an aisle, I was distracted by an acquaintance and our conversation couldn’t have lasted more than a couple of minutes. When I looked back out, the Trans Am was gone. I was so disappointed! It couldn’t have been more than about 5 minutes from the time I walked into the store and when I walked back out. Every time I pass that lot I think of that ’72 Trans Am and wonder where it went.”
Ever since my dad shared his experience with me, we speak of that ’72 Trans Am from time to time contemplating who owned it, if it was delivered to an Omaha-area Pontiac dealer, and whatever became of it. And despite the fact that several business have occupied that building since and the storefront no longer looks the same, like my dad, I, too, think of that Pontiac when I see that parking lot hoping someday to see it again. I suspect that no matter what the future holds for that building or the land, I’ll forever think about that ’72 Trans Am whenever I drive by and know that I will never cease trying to determine who in Omaha owned it back then and can’t help but dream of finding it tucked away in a garage someday.
Have you ever correlated a Pontiac with a specific location? If so, please share your experience in the comments section below!