Car Show Finds: Would You Rather Have A Restored Or An Untouched 1928 Pontiac 6-28 Sport Landau Sedan?

Comparison photo of 1928 Pontiac radiator shells

I have a good friend at work who is about fifteen years younger than I am, and he regularly asks me and another work friend outlandish “would you rather?” questions. An example of such a question could be something like this, family-friendly and courtesy of Parade Magazine: “Would you rather be forced to sing along or dance to every single song you hear?” Or this: “Would you rather be chronically overdressed or underdressed?” The ones I hear are rarely this tame, but the concept is the same, and it came to mind when I realized that the restored 1928 Pontiac 6-28 Sport Landau Sedan I saw at the 2025 Greenfield Village Old Car Festival was not that same as the one I saw at the 2023 show. One looked as if it were awakened yesterday from a sixty-year slumber, and the other looked as if it had emerged yesterday from a five-year restoration. I’ll do my friend proud and ask the question: Would you rather have a perfect car or a car that looks like it has seen some stuff? Because you’re reading Curbside Classic, I think I know the answer, but in this case, it’s not that simple.

Photo of 1928 Pontiac 6-28 Sport Landau

It is old news by now, almost 100 years into the future, but Pontiac was the only General Motors companion brand to outlast its parent, which was in this case Oakland. Although Oakland trudged along until 1931, it was clear that the car named after Chief Pontiac of the Odawa tribe was a sales success. By 1928, when our featured cars were produced, Pontiac was selling 130,000 cars a year (224,784 if you count the late-year “1928 1/2 models” that were actually sold as 1929s – more on that in a minute). The 1928 models were introduced in January, and when I say “models,” I really mean “bodystyles,” as Pontiac sold only one basic car, the “6-28” (not very creative, Pontiac: 6 cylinders, 1928…get it?). Model breakouts are unavailable, but the sedans with padded roofs and fake Landau irons were titled “Sport Landau Sedans,” and they were the most expensive model in the lineup at $875 (compared to $745 for the two-door coupe or roadster).

Both of the examples pictured were built in the first half of the year; cars built after June 1928 were titled as 1929 models and had a few minor changes from earlier cars, such as heavier-spoked wooden “artillery” wheels. I’ve done a spoke count, and neither of these cars falls into that category. The car pictured above was an entrant in the 2023 festival, and being that it was either an original-condition car or a very old restoration, there was little I could do to hide my admiration; it was just as well that the owner wasn’t around, because it might have been awkward. Like most of you, I love cars like this (but I love most cars, so that’s faint praise).

Photo of restored 1928 Pontiac 6-28 Sport Landau

And that is why I was actively disappointed this year upon seeing this beautifully restored Sport Landau Sedan; my assumption was that the owner showed the car in its original state before tearing it down for a complete restoration. Upon reviewing my photographs, I realized that the owners and their locations on the show placards were not the same, so unless the car was sold and restored within the last two years, they are completely different cars. When I realized this, I breathed more easily and could enjoy the restored car for what it was – a beautiful example of a rarely seen Pontiac.

Both cars appear to be painted in the original Cactus Green with brown fenders, which seemed to be a Pontiac staple color in 1928. A 1928 Sport Sedan from the Nethercutt Collection that sold on Hagerty Marketplace in June was an older restoration from the Nethercutt Collection in Sylmar, California. (It is not the same car as the restored example pictured in this article.) The hammer price was a ludicrously low $10,700, which gives the “would you rather” question a little more nuance. Pity the poor 1920s sedan, huh? What chance does this original car have when a restored car sells for that little?

The upholstery and all the accouterments in the restored car look identical to the original car, except they are in better condition. Finding this unique fabric must have been a chore, but perhaps it was done before the myriad upholstery outlets closed their doors, leaving only SMS standing for the time being.

The 1928 models had a few important upgrades over their 1927 predecessors, including four-wheel-brakes (imagine a time when that wasn’t an obvious engineering choice!) and a new G-M-R cylinder head that “[reduced] ‘spark knock’ or detonation to a negligible factor,” according to Pontiac’s sales literature.

Unfortunately, the ads don’t dive into the meaning of the acronym “G-M-R”, but it did give the 186.5 cubic-inch six “an increased margin of power and snap.” What did that mean in terms of specifications? The compression ratio was increased from 4.8:1 to 4.9:1 and the horsepower from 40 to 48, maybe. The materials I’ve found don’t list a horsepower rating, but other internet sources mention 48. The N.A.C.C. (National Automobile Chamber of Commerce) rating was about the same, but those ratings are akin to taxable horsepower and therefore of limited use to actually deriving a car’s real output.

Other improvements for 1928 included a crossflow radiator and a new thermostat, and an AC mechanical fuel pump that replaced the old vacuum tank that previous Pontiacs used to provide fuel to the carburetor (this was apparently an industry first). The aforementioned four-wheel brakes were of the internal-expanding type (such as you might be used to on your more “modern” drum-brake-equipped car) in front, and the old external-contracting type in the rear (seen here).

Back to the “would you rather?” prompt. My heart and my head, being subject to the laws of biology, are certainly connected by way of both circulatory and nervous systems. But it doesn’t feel that way. While I don’t like the staining on the Landau top, the rest of the car is almost exactly as I’d want to buy it.

The surface rust, worn paint, and the small and slightly askew “Fisher Body” tag mounted low on the cowl speak to the car’s status as a 97-year-old veteran of a hard Earth.

We all have our scars and bruises, and I don’t personally like a hypocrite who isn’t aware that they’re being one. While a 1928 Pontiac is a machine and not a person, honesty is an attractive trait regardless of the atoms that make us up, and we like what we like.

On the other hand, our spouses often enjoy riding in our hobby cars with us, and don’t they deserve to not come home with laundry to do because they accidentally brushed up against some dirt and rust? Don’t they deserve a seating surface that hasn’t been stained by sixty years of sitting around? Does anyone appreciate that mouse-ridden smell?

And if these restored Pontiacs are selling in the ten-grand range, that makes my indecisive head spin. My answers to my friend’s questions tend to be a meandering discussion of the pros and cons of each (shout out to anyone who puts up with my quirks, by the way), but I eventually come down to an answer. In this case, my commitment would come down to price: If I could buy this restored ’28 for $10,700, there’s no way I don’t choose it. But maybe I could get the original one for five. Thank goodness for hypothetical questions.