Depending on where you look, you’re bound to find a few different backstories on how the 2001-10 Chrysler PT Cruiser acquired its name. Yet according to a story published by Jalopnik (which included an interview with a Chrysler engineer), it’s because the 2000 Dodge Neon — a compact car upon which the PT Cruiser was based — had the internal code name “PL,” turning that into the “P Tall.” Some sources also say the name stood for “Personal Transportation.” Feel free to adopt your own theory.
About four years ago, I talked about how we tried to revive my grandma’s 2002 Chrysler PT Cruiser after it had been sitting for about six or seven years. That PT enjoyed a long and rich history with my family, having been purchased new on October 18, 2001, from Davis Chrysler-Dodge in Logan, Utah, with six miles on the odometer.
Service and maintenance were consistent over the PT’s years in service, usually taking place at the same dealership at regular intervals according to the CARFAX report.
The most recent records on that CARFAX show a brake service and EGR valve replacement in October 2016 at 119,320 miles, followed by a safety inspection several days later. Unfortunately, Grandma’s husband Russell — the primary driver for the PT — passed away a month after that last inspection, around Thanksgiving 2016, and the vehicle was decommissioned.
The years went by, and the northern Utah seasons took their toll on the exterior. The PT Cruiser remained static, the registration lapsed, and time marched on. In fact, about ten years passed with the PT Cruiser transmission in Park, aside from that one joyride in 2022 when we randomly decided to start the car and ride around the block.
In January 2026, Grandma turned 96 years old, and the relatively good health she had enjoyed started to decline. She lasted about nine more months and finally succumbed to her illness on October 24, 2026. We had hopes of getting the PT Cruiser started one more time to drive it to her graveside service, and my brother made the attempt, but a combination of factors — most notably, a fuel supply issue — kept it from leaving its long-term parking spot.
I stopped by to say farewell to the PT Cruiser on my way to Grandma’s service, since its next destination will undoubtedly be the local salvage yard. The right rear quarter panel was completely rotted through, the clear coat was nonexistent from the upper panels and the passenger side, and the headlights had yellowed from time and exposure.
Opening the driver-side door, I noticed there were Tic Tac mints still in the cup holders, a pair of gloves in the glove box, and a Utah road map in the driver’s door pocket. Russell had kept a handwritten logbook documenting all his fill-ups and associated fuel economy metrics.
It was like stepping into a time capsule from 10 years ago, which was the last time Russell and Grandma drove it across the Idaho border for lottery tickets. The purple PT holds a quarter-century of nostalgia for both my family and me, and if I had the ambition (and a really deep pockets), I’d restore it.
But something tells me we can feel okay about letting it go peacefully, just like Grandma did. Maybe she and Russell can enjoy a few miles in it together on the other side.
