What We Drive: 1963 Pontiac Star Chief

I wouldn't say it was a sad hunk of Detroit iron, but the 1963 Pontiac Star Chief definitely looked lonely when I discovered it in a Michigander's backyard while delivering pizzas. It wasn't covered, and there was no For Sale sign, but I could tell it needed a home.

The paint on the side of the car was in good condition, as far as I could tell. But the roof, the hood and the trunk were faded. The interior needed work and the radio was sad. At least the owner installed the aftermarket tuner under the dash, so as not to mess up the classic two-knob unit.

“Yeah, four grand,” said the guy who just took the pizza off me and paid me--with tip. “It's got about 65,000 miles on it.”

“I'll be back in a few days with 500 bucks, and I'll be back in a month with the rest,” I said, without knowing from where I was going to get the money.

I was in college at the time. Luckily, I had passed on the full-semester student loan I was offered in favor of just the half that I needed. Until now . . .

“If I needed a car,” I asked the school loan adviser, “could I collect the other half of that loan?”

“If you need the car for school,” she said.

That was about six years ago. The Nocturne Blue Star Chief has lived shoehorned into my home garage ever since.

Homecoming

Delivery of the Star Chief, by now christened Big Rhonda, included a complimentary bottle of lead additive and a paper funnel.

“You have to add it whenever you put in gas,” the former owner told me. “And it only really runs good on premium. And it gets about 8 mpg.”

“Thanks.”

During that first summer, I drove the car as I bought it. The seat fabric was ripped and taped and the carpet was thin, but the engine was strong.

Over the next winter I had the seats reupholstered in light and dark blue vinyl, ordered a form-fitted piece of carpet for the floor and added a new radio that I stuffed in the glovebox. I was trying not to upset the classic nature of the car, though eventually, I did anyway.

How? I wanted a few more speakers than just the one in the dashboard. The only place to add them was in the back parcel shelf. I used a Dremel to cut the 6.5-inch circles, covered them in blue foam and set in the four speakers. I hear grumblings from the gearheads all the time.

Why this car? It was the pillarless windows and the GTO front end that did it for me. The whitewall tires and the Pontiac Motor Division dog-dish hubcaps pushed me over the edge.

The car has few dents, very little rust and only a few holes down behind the lower chrome trim. It needs a paint job, ideally in the original Nocturne Blue, and a new alternator.

But then, I'm not aiming for a concours winner with the Star Chief, or even a show car. I just enjoy having a big, old ride to take to cruises and to show off in the summer, while transporting five or six of my friends.

Since day one, it's been almost all good with me and the Star Chief. Sure, it leaks a little transmission fluid, but Big Rhonda has only stranded me once--when I discovered the gas gauge was broken.

Update! The saga of Big Rhonda continues here, when we discuss paint and finish.

“What We Drive” is a regular column at autoweek.com, intended to show the passion--and diverse tastes--found among our editors and staffers.

By Jake Lingeman