1928 Pontiac Sport Landau Sedan

Friday afternoon traffic is building on a warm, sunny spring day in Glens Falls, New York. Hurried soccer moms are rushing around in minivans, cell phones glued to their ears, with quart-sized Dunkin Donuts coffees in one hand as they maneuver through traffic getting the kids to practice. School is letting out, and a parade of import cars with coffee-can-sized mufflers are buzzing down Main Street with music-well, what these kids call music-blasting for all to hear, and now that it's finally warm, the roar of motorcycles drowns out all sound coming from the imports. Among all the modern machinery, one sees a faded-green old car. Most take a second look, but don't know what it is; however, they realize it's driving slowly, mainly because it's nearly 80 years old, has but 40 horsepower, and wasn't designed to maneuver through today's fevered traffic.

None of the hectic pace seems to bother Don Black Jr. and his wife Janice, who tool in the middle of this throng of traffic in their nearly all-original 1928 Pontiac Sport Landau sedan, which Don found about four years ago in California's Napa Valley. "I was looking for something really different. My dad had a 1957 Chevy, brand new with fuel injection. He had some other great cars too, but I wanted something that you don't ever see, even at car shows." By most accounts, Don has succeeded.

We've all heard the stories about barn cars found after lengthy storage in the arid climate of the Golden State, but this one is no tall tale.

The original owner of this two-tone green car kept the car until the early 1960s; as evidenced by some shoddy bodywork on the right rear, it was in a collision at one point during the last 77 years. He sold the car to the second owner, who was a college student at the time and drove it to and from classes. Don says, "He told me they used to go out drinking in it on Friday nights, and at least once when the brakes didn't work, they dumped beer on them to free them up." Sometime in the late 1980s, that college student retired the Pontiac and parked it in a barn, where it sat until Don bought it for $4,000. He towed it home exactly 3,001 miles, installed a new battery, put fresh gas in, and the straight "split-head" six engine fired right up, even with Autolite spark plugs that, he says, "are least 40 years old." The rest of the engine compartment is all stock except for a "wolf whistle" someone installed a while back.

This conservatively styled Pontiac, splendid with factory original chrome, wood floors, engine, transmission, rear end and many interior parts, has some battle scars and numerous paint chips, but many who have seen the car have told Don to never restore the body, which is completely rust-free, due mostly to its California upbringing. The paint is dull, and there is evidence of at least one repaint many decades ago, but the body is dent- and rust-free; even the bolts that attach the rear fenders to the body are free of rust. Lifting up the passenger-side carpet reveals the original body plate, imprinted into the clean and dry wood floor. The original runningboards are also dry and rot-free. In fact, when Don purchased the Pontiac, the original tires-yes, they had been recapped-were still on the car, and the original orange tubes were still inside. Even more surprising, the oil pan and transmission, albeit somewhat greasy, are drip free.

To top off this remarkable find, Don found a set of original 1928 New York license plates, to give his pre-war Pontiac that period appearance. Pontiac built more than 220,000 automobiles for the 1928 model year, just the third year of Pontiac production without the name Pontiac-Oakland. The Oakland name did not disappear after Pontiac became an instant success, and in 1927, Oakland introduced the 6-54 line, now known as the 6-54D series, and sold 44,658 cars. The name trudged on until 1932, which was essentially the last of Oakland with a Pontiac badge. Our Driveable Dream car listed for $875 new in 1928, according to an original advertisement from the Saturday Evening Post that Don acquired.

In 1928, Pontiac cars received a multitude of improvements like mechanical four-wheel brakes, an AC fuel pump, a new type of radiator, a more efficient cylinder head, improved intake and exhaust manifold designs, a new carburetor, a cooling system thermostat and improved steering. This workhorse straight-six engine featured a 3.25-inch bore with a 3.75-inch stroke totaling 186.5 cubic inches. The crankshaft rode in three main bearings, and the engine featured a mechanical camshaft. Carburetion was provided by a Carter one-barrel. With its 4.8:1 compression ratio-this was before higher octane gasoline, remember-it develops 40hp at 2,400 rpm. Amazingly, this engine does not have an oil pump; it gets its lubrication via the sloshing oil, Don says.

Even back in the Roaring Twenties, Pontiac engineers thought of nefarious people who might want to steal a car, and anyone trying to open the hood by simply opening the side latches is in for a surprise. Don turns the decorative Chief Pontiac head atop the honeycomb radiator to release the hood latch. With the hood's side panel flipped open, one immediately notices how large the starter motor is in contrast to other ancillary components. Getting into the front seat, the light-brown mohair fabric is quite comfortable, even if the real wood steering wheel is right up against your chest. Although the space is somewhat cramped, it is in no way claustrophobic. Unlike today's aero windshields, which seem to be five feet in front of you, this one is made of non-safety glass and is vertical. Air conditioning was not available in cars then, but Don shows us this one has it. A hand crank rolls up the windshield a few inches to allow cool air to flow into the cabin.

The odometer shows a tad over 75,295 miles, and even though that is very low for a car 77 years old, this Pontiac has been driven; Don estimates he's driven it more than 2,500 miles since he bought it. Like the rest of the interior, the gauges are all quite simple, and there is no provision for an ignition key. Start-up is instead accomplished via a bronze-plated switch you turn to the right. To the right of that is a throttle, which acts like cruise control, and a manual choke.

When Don took possession of his Pontiac, the chrome was covered in an abominable shade of yellow paint. "I used very mild chemicals to get it off, while trying to save the chrome. I took all the chrome trim off the car and sat on my front porch stripping that paint off." Although the chrome is tarnished and scratched, there is no peeling anywhere. The right rear bumper bracket was painted black, apparently after the accident. The only other things Don had to replace after getting the car running were the wooden roof slats, its black vinyl covering and the interior upholstery. "Something fell onto the roof while it was in the barn and broke a couple of slats, and the interior was damaged and smelled really bad, so I had a guy just replace the seat covers and carpeting." The door panels were also replaced, but the original chrome window cranks work effortlessly despite being installed when Calvin Coolidge was president and power windows were things of science fiction.

Don drives his Pontiac any chance he gets, usually on weekends. "I've never seen another one like it at any show. This thing gets more attention than a line of restored cars. People are amazed at the condition after all these years. I want my grandchildren to enjoy this car, and I will do everything I can to keep it the way it is," he says. One way to ensure its longevity is by constantly searching for parts. Don found a water pump in South Dakota for $75; it sat on a car in a field for 50 years. And although his car's original radiator is still intact, he is looking for another. "I want to have as many parts as I can." To date, he's been lucky and hasn't needed to hunt down many parts. The engine has performed well, as has the rest of the car. "I really haven't done anything to it but change the oil, and I guess the old girl didn't like that multi-weight oil because she started making noise, so I switched to straight 30-weight Valvoline, and no more noise."

When Don gets ready to take off, he flips the ignition switch, and the starter cranks the straight-six to life. No smoke puffs from the tailpipe. He slips the non-synchromesh transmission into first gear and pulls away. He has to double-clutch to upshift and the car moves out slowly in traffic. With just 40hp on tap, acceleration is, well, slow. Riding on skinny reproduction Denman tires, this old Pontiac doesn't handle all that well, but Don says the brakes work surprisingly well for their age. Don keeps the speed down to about 40 mph. "I've had it up to 55, but you start wondering if it's gonna fall apart at that speed. I don't push it that high. I did drive it more than 100 miles one day to a car show. It didn't give me any trouble. We don't take it out in the rain or snow, of course, but we drive it every chance we get. It accelerates slowly, but I feel confident in any traffic situation. You have to pay attention and deal with all the people looking at it. You don't see these every day."