Wars. Skyrocketing inflation. Gasoline prices that made your eyes water.
Sound familiar? It should. The 1980s shared this exact cocktail of economic dread. Which makes the cars from that era all the more interesting. We aren’t talking about the heroes everyone remembers. We’re looking at the weird ones, the delayed ones, the ones that vanished into the ether. Some came from earlier in the decade and only found their groove then. Most are ghosts now.
Here’s what we lost.
Subaru BRAT
(1977)
Ronald Reagan had one. He kept it on his California ranch for twenty years. Imagine that.
The Subaru BRAT wasn’t just a tool. It was a statement. Sold from 1977 to 1994, it looked like a budget Lancia that gave up on pretense. It attracted a clientele you might expect to see in the back of a Mercedes S-Class—people with money, but also a sense of humor. Subaru marketed it to Americans as “Fun on Wheels.” That actually stuck.
Over 100,00 were sold. Later versions got a turbocharged 1.8 liter engine that felt properly gutsy. The car proved so durable, so reliable, it basically built Subaru’s American reputation. You want to know how a company dominates SUV sales today? It started with this ugly, charming box.
Plymouth Sapporo
(1978)
Business deals make strange bedfellows. Chrysler partnered with Mitsubishi. The result was the Plymouth Sapporo.
It tried to offer everything. Extravagant options for an economy box. Bucket seats with lumbar support. Tinted glass. Power-adjustable mirrors. We could list the features but honestly, why bother? It felt plush in a way that surprised everyone. It promised 40 miles per gallon. Performance was decent enough to keep its 70,001 buyers happy.
So why don’t you know this car?
Politics. Corporate shifts. The partnership cooled. Mitsubishi started pushing their own model, the Conquest, instead. The Sapporo didn’t die from a lack of quality. It died because the paperwork changed. The new offer was the Mitsubishi one.
Midas Bronze
(1978)
This is the British tragedy you weren’t taught in history class.
Harold Dermott ran a small outfit called Midas. He built a company that could have crushed the affordable sports car market flat. He didn’t need to compete with the giants. He just needed time. Then fire hit. A factory blaze in 1989 wiped out their tooling, their future, their everything. The company folded that same year despite massive acclaim.
The Bronze launched in ’78. Fiberglass monocoque. Neat styling by Richard Oakes. Gordon Murray handled the aero. It was the first car built this way to pass modern crash tests. Safe. Fast. Smart. The later Gold model was finally hitting its sales stride when the flames ate it all.
Only 500 Brondes and Golds were made. They’re gaining cult status now. People recognize the groundbreaking design. It’s a shame we’re recognizing it only after it’s gone.
Alfa Romeo Alfa 6
(1979)
Timing is a cruel mistress.
Alfa wanted to build this in 1973. Big, handsome sedan. V6 power. Then the oil crisis hit. Who buys a thirsty sedan when the pump costs more than your mortgage payment? No one. The executives buried the project. They consigned it to the attic.
They dug it up in the late seventies when prices seemed stable. They made some changes. Production finally started. But the car that rolled off the line looked old. Immediate antique status.
The carbureted 2.5-liter engine? A gem. Beautiful sound, lovely delivery. But it drank fuel like it was free. Buyers frowned. Even in ’79, the efficiency numbers raised eyebrows. Alfa tried again in ’83 with Bosch fuel injection, a facelift, and a turbodiesel option.
Too late. The momentum was gone. Production stopped in 1987. They only managed to build 12,00 of them. A nice engine trapped in a bad strategy.
Buick Century Turbo Coupe
(1979)
Here we go again with American overcompensation.
Buick decided to apply turbocharging to the Century platform.
