54-Year-Owned 1968 Plymouth GTX out of 30-Year Garage Lock-Up Needs a Lot of Everything

The second-generation of the Charger, the Road Runner, the 340 V8 small-block, the Super Bee, the expansion of the R/T package – Chrysler was in full swing when the GTX moved alongside the rest of the B-body street brawlers in 1968. With it, the Belvedere-based Mopars totaled four models (the Satellite was the fourth one in the lineup).

Unlike its brethren, the GTX was brief in nomenclature, big in engine size, and generous in comfort treats. Essentially, it was a gentleman’s muscle car, an expensive Plymouth with refined finishing touches. Probably, this is what led to its untimely demise – people didn’t see it for what it was but for what it represented. The lowest Chrysler division had a high-buck offer – wouldn’t you be suspicious of that, even if just a little bit?

Still, almost 19,000 Americans went for this unlikely automobile that made no compromise in the critical aspect of any car, its powertrain. Standard GTXs opened the bid at 440 cubic inches of raw V8 muscle, and for the right price, a Hemi could be ordered instead of the 7.2-liter Super Commando.

Unfortunately, the new Plymouth wasn’t that good of a seller to convince ChryCo to invest more time and money in making it, with each year marking a shameless downfall in purchase statistics. In 1970, a family from Pennsylvania bought a 1968 GTX, and the car became the lady’s daily for the following two and a half decades.

When she retired in 1994, she parked the car after rolling the odometer over once and putting an extra 24,790 miles to the already lengthy 100,000. However, the woman cared for the Mopar, keeping it inside during the days when the car was exploited as a means of transportation and also once the Plymouth no longer served its purpose.

From 1994 until today, the car was unused, and that’s not the best possible outcome for an automobile. There is some minor rust on the vehicle, and the engine doesn’t run but turns over by hand; since it’s a 1968 model, the 440 is the usual four-barrel carb variant, the 375-hp, 480-lb-ft (380 PS, 651 Nm) big-block that was standard equipment on the GTX. For more pretentious buyers, the 426 Hemi was the alternative to the biggest Super Commando ever.

Out of the 18,940 examples assembled for the 1968 model year, over 17,000 came with a pillarless solid roof cabin. Just 446 Hemi-powered GTXs were built – no surprises there, given the motor’s outrageous price - and this example featured below is a neat survivor that prides itself on its scars, bubbling paint, and non-running 440-cube powerplant with a three-speed automatic on the console. Whoever ordered the car new kept extras to a minimum – no power brakes or steering.

The car is now for sale, and the bid will go on for six more days since we’re still in the early stages. The top offer sits at just two grand for now. It makes the perfect candidate for a full nut-and-bolt restoration, but it could also be just a ratty fixer-upper for somebody who likes the weathered looks and dusty stance.

The seller noted that when he got the car, he took out the radiator and the fan; the gallery shows the engine coolant heat exchanger in place, however, so either the photos are older, or the car got its rad back (minus the hose and the ventilator).

The presumptive future owner will need some deep pockets to make the car look new again, but that’s just a wild assumption and personal hope. What would you pay for it, and what would be the best action with this remarkable GTX waiting in Susquehanna, Pennsylvania, and hoping for a better future?