Whenever I talk about the cars that come from the Pentastar folks, I still say "Chrysler." Hey, I'm an old-schooler and I gave up correcting myself long ago. If I referred to them as "FCA," I'm still certain that most people will do the math and think, "Oh, right. Chrysler."
I was reminded of the various name changes and so on of the Chrysler folks when someone recently asked me about the worst cars I ever dealt with. Not one-offs mind you–but the worst cars as in, the ones so bad no one even questioned how awful they were.
I began practicing in the field of Lemon Law in 1991 and as I learned the nuances of the law and who the players were, I quickly met the worst car ever built. At least since that era. It was the Renault Alliance, marketed in the U.S. by AMC. You'll recall that American Motors brought us the Gremlin and the Pacer. But those cars were gems compared to the Renault Alliance.
Chrysler eventually bought AMC which many people thought was a genius move because it brought the Jeep brand under their control. The downside? It also brought the liability for the warranty obligations of AMC as well—and that included a fleet of Renault Alliances Americans had foolishly bought. Luckily for Chrysler, those Alliances were no longer being built and sold but the ones on the road were dying, many of them while still under warranty. To sell those Alliances to U.S. consumers, AMC had promised a 5 year/50,000 mile warranty. Most of the cars would not survive their warranty period.
Each of the Big Three automakers has had "litigation prevention" programs at one time or another and in 1991 I had a contact at Chrysler named Jack. I remember him fondly because if I had a really good case against his employer he would ask me to just send over the repair orders and the purchase documents and he would agree to buy the car back with no other effort if the facts checked out. He evaluated the cases fairly, offered what the law required, and he authorized my attorney fees.
Whenever someone came into my office with a Renault Alliance case, I could expect to see them with an armload of repair orders. I remember having secretaries roll their eyes when I asked for a complete set of copies on an Alliance. Once I confirmed the merits of the case, I could call Jack and say, "I have another Alliance."
"Send me the purchase agreement," he would say with a weary tone. He did not bother to ask for the repair orders and he would not even ask what was wrong with the car. Why ask? We both knew: Everything was wrong with the car. It's been 25 years but I have a vague memory of wiring problems, particularly in northern states like Michigan, where moisture caused havoc with a poorly-placed wiring harness or two. I could be wrong on that particularity. But I can be forgiven. Like Jack, I stopped looking too closely at the repair orders too. Once I saw the purchase agreement, I knew Chrysler was going to take care of it. And Jack knew the paperwork was unnecessary. It told us what we all knew already. The car was a Renault Alliance and those were, by definition, Lemons.
Steve Lehto is a writer and attorney from Michigan. He specializes in Lemon Law and frequently writes about cars and the law. His most recent books include Preston Tucker and His Battle to Build the Car of Tomorrow, and Dodge Daytona and Plymouth Superbird: Design, Development, Production and Competition. He also has a podcast where he talks about these things.
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