New Owner Of The Legendary ‘Chicago Cutlass’ Rustbucket Describes What’s Broken, And It’s A Lot

It’s wild how some ultra-rare cars garner a deep enthusiast following. Usually, it’s off-the-wall design or a bizarre powerplant that puts them on our radar. Several Italian sports car creations from the ’70s come to mind, as well as thoroughly neat concept cars from General Motors in the ’90s. But today we discuss a vehicle beloved for different reasons: The “Chicago Cutlass” is a 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme that has earned over 400,000 miles on its odometer, and has won over car enthusiasts’ hearts because it’s nearly rusted completely through and yet is miraculously still alive. 

Despite its condition, new owner John Kreuz intends on making it a reasonably safe member of our nation’s roadways once again.

This ol’ whip got its name for residing around the greater Chicagoland area. It wears a metallic Monet-like livery of rust, worn Brougham top, missing trim, different paint colors, and more rust. Midwest over green, discerning collectors would call it. It’s frankly amazing that this thing hasn’t split in half by now and returned to Illinois’ hearty soil. Here’s what makes this Olds so special, and why Kreuz plans to return it to its former glory.

Windy City Lore

The Stallion of Summit, Brookfield Brooklands, Niles Crane, Palos Parisienne—these are nicknames I’d like to attribute to such a piece of Chicagoland history. Can you tell I’m originally from this part of the country? The reason for this Malaise Era Olds’ acclaim is, well, car spotters seeing it schlepping around and sharing its existence along with some form of “holy shit check this thing out!” which eventually turned into “holy shit I saw the Chicago Cutlass in (insert random Chicago neighborhood or suburb)!”

Tara Hurlin at Hemings wrote about it last year, and it sounds like it’s been on peoples’ radar for a while. From her reporting, it apparently was owned by a boat mechanic who drove it to the nearly half-million-mile mark, though some say it possesses double that. Which only adds to the lore, which I think we all thoroughly dig. People are not only in awe over the fact that it’s still together, but also its weirdly beautiful deep patina—if people in the Midwest are in awe over this amount of rust, that really says something.

There was fear that the Chicago Cutlass finally met its maker late last year, but apparently it was sold to an Olds enthusiast who then recently sold it on to Kreuz.

The Current State

Kreuz posted a video walk around of this beast on his YouTube channel, and man, it’s definitely rough.

What’s very apparent is that it was a nicely spec’d model back in the day. Power seats, a cassette player, rich velour interior — the works. These features, plus some other period-correct touches like the Brougham top, long hood, interesting grille appointments, and badging encapsulate the Malaise era so well. Plus, we can’t forget about its 260 cubic inch V8 that put out 90 horsepower and 160 pound-feet of torque when it was new.

When it comes to remedying a few things to make it roadworthy … well, it actually needs more than just a few things. For one, the front driver seat isn’t attached to the floor pan, because apparently there is no floor pan left in this region of its construction. So, to prevent tilting back in a comical fashion at every fresh green light, the previous owner threw a spare tire behind the front seat. That’s one way to do it. Then, the rear bumper bars are gone, so rope was utilized to maintain its slender hind quarters.

Kreuz didn’t mince words about the car’s mechnical mechanical condition when he recently posted about being its new owner on Facebook, saying:

Currently, its battery is dead. Hood wont open.

The drivers door opens when it wants to. The passenger door is DOA.

When it DOES run, it smokes real bad. The boat mechanic botched the intake manifold gaskets when he did the valve jobh and THATS probably why he sold it originally.

The drivers floor is gone so the drivers seat is unanchored in the front, so the tire is there to keep it from flopping back.

I dont have keys for the trunk, yet. If they are permanently lost, ill just drill the trunk lock.

Supposedly, the trunk floor is solid.

The roof is rusted through. The passengers frame rail by the rear wheel is starting to go.

The rear bumper shocks are blown out, rusted away.

Drivers door opens when it wants to. The striker has been driven down to that point so it actually latches.

The inside drivers door handle is missing.

I dont know what works and what doesnt.

The visors are missing. Some of the interior trim.

I reached out to Kreuz on Facebook to learn a little bit more. “I was second in line to buy it from the ‘original owner.’ He was [technically] the second owner but the guy who drove it into the ground like it is,” Kreuz said. “So, I missed my chance at plucking it out of the wild. Luckily, a good friend of mine was first in line. He made a promise that if he was going to sell it, he’d let me know first.”

The Plan

“I wanted the car because I love rusty old junk, and this is the king of rusty old junk,” Kreuz said about why the Chicago Cutlass piqued his interest. He digs the history, the survivor aspect, and the challenge. Not only that, but as hinted above, he also wants to do more videos about it on his YouTube channel.

Again, this ol’ steed needs a lot of work, but as mentioned in Kreuz’s Facebook post, he wants to bring it to shows, rallies, and maybe even do a Cannonball drive. He’s determined, too: “It’s not for sale. I promised I wouldn’t try to flip it. I’m going to drive it until the frame snaps and either try and do a frame swap or donate it to a museum, if I can find one that’ll take it.”

We fully support his efforts, and hope he can restore this beaten down survivor to drivable shape and enjoy many miles behind the wheel. It’s just so cool that it’s still rolling around, and what a throwback to a somewhat overlooked/forgotten era. It’s made it to just over 400,000—or possibly 800,000—what’s a little welding, rust inhibitor, box of tools, and a couple two-tree visits to the junkyard?

All Images: John Kreuz