I had been looking for a GTO for several years. My three sons were always telling me when they saw one that was for sale somewhere. They were young at the time and not always clear on where it was that they saw it. All three knew their cars, especially Pontiacs from the 60's and 70's. After several wild chases around southern Minnesota, I had all but given up on finding one to get my hands on.
One night after a hard day at work, my youngest son came in and told me he had seen a GTO for sale. I asked him if it was another one going south on I-35 when he was going with his mom to see grandma. He told me no, it was around the corner from our house. That woke me up and got the blood pumping. We walked down the street to see a fairly rough 71 GTO. It looked like the car was driven into a garage that was six inches too narrow as both front quarters were wrinkled back to the doors. The vinyl top was in shreads, upholstery was split at the seams, the carpet was full of holes, the back window had been broken and glass was all over the back seat, and hail damage was clearly visible all over the roof line, hood and trunk deck.
The car was beautiful. Just the project I was looking for. I talked to the person in the driveway and found out the car was from Colorado. He was selling it for his brother who brokered classic cars. I was able to get a good deal and the I became the second owner.