I remember the sun-shiny day when the Grand Cherokee Laredo pulled up on the driveway, all glistening white, clean dark-gray body cladding and clear-as-day headlight plastics. My Grandfather bought it as his new company car, giving his 10th-gen Thunderbird to my eventual 5th-gen 4Runner-driving uncle, Uncle V. That Grand Cherokee Laredo broke the pattern of Grandpa driving Ford cars, though that T-bird was a radical departure from a long, proud string of Panther platform goodness.
As exciting as I was at the presence of a new car, there was a moment where I was confused as to what this rig represented. That’s because as a car-kid I was taught that Jeep=4x4 and all the romance that four-wheeling conjures up. But this rig, with its Jeep badge looked down-right civilized. It wasn’t the 4x4 version, the reason being that Grandpa found it too tall for him to get in and out of with his bad back. It didn’t even have a limited-slip differential, something that I came to notice while doing stupidities in it when I began college.
Since new, the rear hatch rattled, and its locking mechanism always sounded like it was struggling to open whether it was by remote-access key (which always felt that it had a weak signal) or an actual key, no matter if we doused the keyhole and latching mechanism with penetrating fluid or white grease. Also, compared to the 3nd-gen Dodge Caravan Sport that came two years later, I could tell by the numbers showing on the pump that the Grand Cherokee liked its fuel. Speaking of fuel, we had an unpleasant experience that involved towing it home because the fuel gauge lied to us: it was actually empty.
Coming to the realization that his so-called retirement present in the form of a Cadillac CTS wasn’t cutting it, Grandpa eventually got a 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee Special Edition, while the Grand Cherokee Laredo would hang around the house, often-times being borrowed by Uncle V when his cars gave him trouble. One morning, Uncle V took me to an empty parking lot. He told me that in case of an emergency, I would need to drive someone to the hospital. He proceeded to teach me the basics. This was probably planned due to the health issues that were plaguing my family –critically, my Grandmother- at the time. In case anything happened, I was a little ready.
Having survived my learner license period (so many close calls!) and with a fresh driver’s license in my wallet, it was time to help out in the family. I became the errand-runner and chauffeur of the family. Sometimes mom would rib me and call me “James” in a snooty voice. It’s also how I got sucked into started in the family business, running errands. The first time I was allowed to drive alone was to the shop, in the Grand Cherokee. I was nervous/excited. As I got going, I let out one of the most euphoric laughs in my life! I was an independent driver!!
When college came around, Uncle V got the Grand Cherokee’s radio problem taken care of. I thought he goofed and went overboard getting a new CD player and speakers installed when the problem was the antenna cable. Years later, it came to be that Uncle V wanted to make the Grand Cherokee a bit special since it wasn’t a new car. These types of acts are good reasons why I didn’t hesitate buying a cargo cover for his 4Runner some years later. To think I told him that I was cool with the old cassette-deck unit... No matter, that old radio bought it when it replaced another non-functioning radio out of Uncle D’s (my Chevrolet Astro-driving uncle) Jeep Cherokee Sport. These types of acts are good reasons why I didn’t hesitate buying a cargo cover for his 4Runner.
Apart from driving solo for the first time, there were other firsts: I got my first flat tire. Well, what was left of it. Let’s just say that a keeping your spare inflated as well as having a small air compressor became part of my maintenance schedule. And that 2nd-gen Grand Cherokees have a different bolt pattern. Years later I learned that idle pulleys are wearable items when one took out the serpentine belt and left me stranded. Make sure one has a clear diagram of the belt layout, too.
I also got into my first accident. A multiple-car accident to boot. I was beyond bummed because deep down I knew it was my fault. Back in 2007, I took my eyes off the road for one second to change the radio station only to find a final-gen USDM Mitsubishi Montero going slower than me on the left lane. I hit the brakes, but I ended up scuffing the Montero’s spare tire cover, bent my hood, broke my grille and pushed back the radiator to the fan; the fan shroud broke, obviously. Then I got rear ended. The rear bar bent, but the Ford Ranger that hit me and got rear-ended by a 1st-gen Lumina literally bent its frame!
Not counting close calls, I was involved in two other official accidents; one resulted in broken trim to the other guy’s early final-gen Mercury Grand Marquis. That one was also my fault, I didn’t check my mirrors with more attention. The other? I got lightly T-bone’d by a young woman who ran the red-light. Mom, who was with me, said she smelled alcohol on her breath. Montero spare tire cover aside, Grand Cherokees can take a hit. A lesser car wouldn’t have carried on as well as that rig.
With every body-panel bending accident (which I’m glad to say weren’t that many, thankfully), we have been fortunate enough to get the Grand Cherokee got fixed up. The shoddy body and paint work from a previous repair during Grandpa’s ownership was vanquished. It got its body cladding spiffed up, pinstripes removed, the exhauster vents (the plastic vent trim behind the side glass of the cargo bay) painted black, and a fresh pair of plastic headlamps and boy did it look sharp! I accessorized it with incorrectly installed VentShades and stickers; multiple sets of auto-parts store seat covers, a steering wheel cover and “direct-replacement” floor mats from a North-American website that were anything but. Well, they do cover.
When I started driving the rig more often, I began to give it a stricter maintenance schedule. It was said that it’s been two years since its last oil change (!). No more of that! With simple maintenance, the MPG on the onboard computer’s display in the overhead console jumped from 12 MPG to 14. While I try to do my best when I get my hands dirty working on it, sometimes a technician has to step in. Sensors, pumps, gaskets, ECM, A/C, radiator, stereo, headliner, front glass, etc., just some of the things that had to be worked on that went beyond my basic tools and knowledge. I’m still undecided as to when I should change the burned-out ABS module. Aside from the ABS light being constantly on, the Grand Cherokee brakes fine, just no ABS action.
Even with my care, I’ll admit that I abused it from time to time. I hooned it around the muddy field that was part of our college parking lot with like-minded individuals. Figures that the guy with the stock Grand Cherokee Laredo got into more trouble than the guy with a lifted 1980s Land Cruiser doing the same thing (*rolls eyes*)… Luckily, I got off with a warning. I used to find myself over the speed limit; I once, maybe twice, pushed it over 100+mph. There were one too many times in which I pushed the Grand Cherokee to snap oversteer on damp roads, all of them close calls, with one in particular were I did a full 360 º! I blamed myself, not the tires. That rig put up with me during throes of adolescent rage and frustration. It even limped home when I killed the power-steering pump doing donuts (see previous sentence).
It was with me when one night while listening to one of my favorite songs, a 2nd-gen Mazda 3 was chasing me down, riding my bumper and flashing its lights. In a panic, I floored it and was actually pulling ahead, until the cops caught me. While my license was close to being suspended for three months, I thanked God that I was caught. Hearing rumors of similar stories, I don’t disregard the probability that I could’ve been killed, just because I brashly moved from behind him, who was blocking me on a green light. I just wanted to hurry back home and eat the fast food I bought. The whole event ruined my appetite and almost ruined a great song. Almost.
I’d be lying if every moment in the Grand Cherokee was about bone-headed behavior or life-risking situations. Many memorable trips were made in the rig. We’d occasionally go to the beach with friends and family, road trip to car shows or comic-book-type conventions with a buddy of mine, etc. Of course I gave many trips to car-less friends to their destinations. It got annoying at times being the only one with both a valid driver’s license and a car. I even once had a girl try to win me over in it (nothing happened. She was crazy, and I later found out that I was basically the rebound)!
Remember how I used air quotes at the beginning to say it was “my” Grand Cherokee? Here’s the big secret: it’s not under my name. It’s the family’s car. I had to be discreet with what I did to it, like seat covers and stickers I put on it (It was a good thing that the flame part on that flavor-of-the-moment Ghost Rider sticker got ruined). But because everyone in the family likes it and that the rest of it was in good condition, it was decided to invest in bodywork.
The body-man was skeptical of taking the job, because he expected to find more when he removed more interior panels… which was exactly what happened. Yet, he carried on, doing his best under the agreed price quote, making patch panels, adding anti-corrosion agents everywhere, etc. The job wasn’t a back-to-metal Restoration Garage job (those types of TV shows would probably dissaprove the repair); we had to be realistic as it was still a 16+ year old SUV. We got what we paid for, small weld burns in the carpet and all. But for now, it will do. To me, it felt as if the Grand Cherokee got a new lease on life. If the rust reappears in the future and the Grand Cherokee is still pulling its own weight, hopefully I’ll be able to invest in a more thorough job.
Aside from the metal work, the bodyshop also removed the cracking and aging VentShades, spruced up the paint, took care of another rust spot in the passenger door, as well as a dent on the hatch and recoated the body-cladding with an expensive product, but the results were worth it. Same goes for another new pair of headlamp plastics. I even managed to buy an exhauster vent to replace one that fell apart during disassembly.
For the last year or so, the Grand Cherokee has been the ride of either my mom or my sister, depending on which car’s at the mechanic. The radio was replaced again after seven years of service. The sound guys were surprised by how that weak (their words) Panasonic unit lasted, being made in 2005. In its place now resides a sweet Pioneer unit. The speakers will eventually be upgraded when the panels come off to see what’s causing a short circuit in two of them. I had a tow hitch installed, not because of that rear impact/gas tank fire recall scare, but because I preferred the tow hitch-mounted bike rack over other designs. I wasn’t happy to realize that the recall letter finally came in some weeks later, saying that Chrysler would’ve installed their hitch for free.
Every once in a while the Grand Cherokee has gotten its share of compliments: from being more comfortable than a Jeep Cherokee Sport, its visibility, its compact dimensions, its toughness, to how good it looks and how well it’s been kept. Hearing these, it’s given me a sense of pride, sometimes motivating me to share some of my experiences with this website early on, like when I witnessed the odometer cross the 100,000 mile mark. It’s such a good vehicle for what it is that I defend it when my grandfather and uncles recommend that I get rid of it and get something new (Grandfather’s suggestion), get something Japanese (Uncle V’s suggestion) or get something sporty (Uncle J’s suggestion). Every. Single. Time. I use it as an automotive yardstick when comparing cars (example: why does <make and model> still being made with rear drum brakes? My 1998 Grand Cherokee Laredo came with rear disc brakes). Writing this post helped cement my opinion that these Grand Cherokees (and the following generation) are excellent first cars. I can’t wait for the next 10 years of driving privileges with it.
--Tigerstrypes
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