Oldsmobile had a glorious pas that included this 1966 Olds Toronado.
Ten years ago last week, the last Oldsmobile, a cherry red Alero, rolled off the assembly line in Lansing.
Coincidentally, my family’s long association with Oldsmobile also is reaching an end as the wistful anniversary passes.
Long gone is our 1994 Silhouette minivan, a vehicle John Travolta once called “the Cadillac of minivans” in the movie, “Get Shorty.”
I’m now in the process of disposing of a 2000 Intrigue that reliably took me to and from work, and later transported our two daughters through college and their first jobs.
The car that our oldest daughter dubbed “Ruby” for its metallic red paint served our family well through 170,000 miles.
But the midsize Intrigue also was at the center of a mammoth effort by a colorful General Motors executive to save the struggling brand and possibly transform GM, as well.
John Rock, a witty, profane, self-described cowboy, took the reins at Oldsmobile in 1992 at a time when there was little to distinguish Olds from Buick, its GM sibling.
Rock embarked on an ambitious attempt to create distinctive, sharp-handling vehicles that would appeal to owners of imports, from Honda to Lexus.
He called it the “Centennial Plan,” in which Oldsmobile’s entire lineup would be transformed by the company’s 100th anniversary in 1997.
But the plan soon ran into trouble. Just months after Rock became Oldsmobile’s general manager, the Washington Post ran a story saying GM’s directors were considering killing the brand because of poor sales.
Rock responded by calling a news conference at GM’s headquarters in which he famously said, "You know, you are looking at one pissed-off cowboy because somebody is trying to shoot my horse, and I don't know who."
Rock also took a shot at GM’s bumbling bureaucracy during the news conference.
A reporter asked him why there were no top executives from GM’s vaunted 14th floor executive suite supporting him at the news conference. That’s where the decision about Oldsmobile’s future would be made, he said.
Rock sarcastically responded that he’d spent time working on the 14th floor and didn’t recall “making any decisions.”
His plan to save Oldsmobile ultimately failed for a variety of reasons, including a lack of resources from a cash-starved GM to improve the brand’s vehicles.
Rock retired in 1997 and died in 2007 at the age of 71. GM announced in December of 2000 that it was killing Oldsmobile, but built several models until 2004.
Communities often are devastated when a major employer shuts down. But Lansing area officials convinced GM to build new factories there, employing more than 5,000 workers.
Lansing is now a Cadillac town, churning out a variety of models in an assembly plant near Oldsmobile’s former headquarters.
John Travolta would be amazed.
Email Rick Haglund at haglund.rick@gmail.com