My 1982 Chevrolet Caprice V6 Coupe – Resurrected From The Dead, And Deadly Slow

not our actual car; found this at autotraders

Between the Mercury Tracer, which was gone by this time, and the Sable which was leaving, Cindy and I decided it was ok to buy an inexpensive car to fill the void. The year was 1991 and our son had just turned one year old. One day Cindy came home to tell me about a 1982 Caprice Classic coupe that her store manager Manny at Publix was looking to sell. I gave her some questions to ask, and we would make time to look it over. Let’s not rush into things…

The very next evening she drove it home.

The story was that Manny bought it off the showroom floor. It was a special order with all the options except cruise control. And, strangely enough, it had both the heavy duty and F41 sport suspension upgrades. Supposedly. The down fall? Someone forgot to check the “V8” box; it came with the infamous 229 V6 engine, referred to as the 3.8 liter, making many customers believe they were getting the better Buick engine. The key word about this engine is slow. I mean molasses in the dead of winter slow. It might have had 110 horses when new on a good day, but someone left the barn door open.

Cindy was very pleased with herself, finding a car that we’d had so much experience with already, having owned a ’75, ’74, and a ’79 – all great cars with the exception of the ’74; that one ran strong, but at night we could hear it rusting away in the garage. Everything, it seemed, was told to us in detail about this ’82. Except for one minor detail: the front end was entirely rebuilt using an ’82 Impala (making this a Capala? or an Imprice?). Manny failed to tell the “rest of the story”. Where is Paul Harvey when we need him? Manny had simply fallen asleep behind the wheel one day and cleared out 10’ (or more ) of wooden fence and topped it off by slamming into a large palm tree. That alone evidently slowed him down from the apparent 50mph he was doing.

He had told Cindy everything about the car other than the fact that it had been totaled. That seems fine! And she was so very excited, but I tried to reason with her — I have moments of stupid and this was one of them. Me, trying to get her to understand that the whole front end and passengers door had been replaced. In fact, Manny admitted that he’d had the work done by some, uh, shady characters.

So, she agreed to listen to whatever a gear head friend of ours told us, no matter what. So a call was placed to Larry….

“Cindy, I wouldn’t have it for free”, Larry told my wife. “I saw how badly damaged that car was and I know it wasn’t put together well at all. Plus, Chip, are you aware of how gutless those V6 engines are? The GM 4.3 liter diesel is faster! Nope, run away you two. I’ll help you find a better car.”

So, my wife did the right thing and bought the car🤦. She was so proud that she got him down from $2800 to only $1800.

In the flat area where we lived, and with Cindy using it for a couple miles daily, just how weak the engine really was did not show up right away.

It needed a paint job, so we took it to the cheapest place I could find. It was the famous GM two tone light silver blue over a darker blue with a gold dual pin strip. She wanted to reverse the color scheme. So we told him that for our $375 we’d like the dark blue on top, light blue on the bottom. We got a call in a few days to pick it up. So we got there and Cindy told him that it looked nice; now redo it the way we asked! Hey, at least we knew it had some sandpaper used on it, not a normal practice.

We got it back — correctly done — and decided to have Sears install a cruise control unit. We were getting ready to go to Ohio to celebrate my parents’ 50th anniversary and decided to drive the Chevy for its comfort.

Now, my parents were going to stay two extra weeks, so it was decided that dad would drive his 1985 Camry. We also decided to drive to Charlotte where we would then caravan with my younger sister and her family. They had just bought a new Buick Roadblaster Estate wagon. So we had the oldest and slowest car!

By the way, I called Manny to ask how the car did on the open road and what kind of fuel economy to expect. He said he’d never, ever driven the car any further than in town, and never faster than about 50-60. Great….but I guess it may well be that’s what saved his life the time he fell asleep.

The first part of the trip, up I95 and not very hilly, went really well. I kept it at 60 and we got an average of just under 20mpg. However, leaving Charlotte, the decision was made to to take I77 on up. This roadway, for those not familiar with, has some very steep driving, with truck lanes and even truck runaway ramps for those rare times when a truck’s brakes may fail.

I had to learn how to “drive with so little power” up and down this part of our trip. I found that by turning of the air conditioning going up hill and flooring the accelerator resulted in a top speed of 34 miles per hour!! We had loaded trucks whizzing by us!

Then, cresting up and over, I’d just let the old gal roll — we could do 70, even 80! Doing this dance over and over, Cindy finally started to get frustrated. She thought I was doing this intentionally! So we pulled over at a rest area. My dad and sister questioned my “poor driving” as my dad put it. I had to explain that his 1973 Caprice had a 400 engine; this one did not! More like half the size. When we left, Cindy wanted to drive, so she did. That lasted…until the next rest area, where she apologized for pushing this Chevy Capricala on me.

Other than that minor issue of being dead slow, the car itself was very comfortable, handled really well for its size, and it was a two-door, which was great for having a baby in the back seat. Manny had even had the windows tinted very dark, so it made for a somewhat cozy place inside.

On the way home, we ran into three issues: first the transmission was really having a hard time locking up the torque converter because it was slow going into third gear. Second, it began to burn lots of oil. It started with one quart on the trip up, but on the way home, it was a quart low with every fill up.

And finally, coming through West Palm Beach on 95 at about 3 in the morning, we got pulled over. Folks, there were many patrol cars in that area that night, I5 north bound and I5 south bound.  Jacob was asleep in his car seat in the back and Cindy was awake keeping me company.

I pulled over and looked in the outside mirror. I could see the officer was very nervous and even had his side arm unbuckled. I called out the our hands were on the steering wheel and that I would turn on the interior lights. When he got to the side of the car and saw us he was clearly more at ease, especially seeing Jacob in the backseat.

After Cindy slowly and carefully got the needed paperwork from the glove box and handed it to him, he announced he’d be right back.
When he came returned he handed me back all the stuff and asked me how fast I driving. I told him that according to my speedometer I was doing 60. He said that it needed to be recalibrated as I was doing 66 in a 55. I apologized. He asked why we were out so late, and I explained that we were driving through from Ohio. He said he would only give me a warning. Then, clearly embarrassed, he said  “There has been a big increase in drug trafficking through the area and that our car fit the profile for such an activity!”

We talked the next day about what the next step should be with the Imprice. I spoke to a mechanic who had a 350 with a transmission from a wrecked 1977 Cadillac Seville that he would sell and install for $1000. But after looking into it a bit deeper, everything under the hood (ac compressor, power steering pump, etc.) were on the opposite side of those with a V8. So it was decided to trade it in for the 1992 Chevy Blazer I wrote about here.

A week or so after the trade, I saw the Capala being put onto a flat bed truck. Was it going to end up in the hands of drug dealers?