The ultimate compliment you can pay a car is that it saved your life. My dear old 1995 G20 did, and I'll be the first to vouch for the car as a tough little sucker.

I received my G20 as a loaner from my stepfather shortly after I started driving. It was either that or stick me in the 2000 Toyota Solara convertible, not a good idea for a rookie. As fate would have it, I wound up in this car after the wreck that claimed my Infiniti anyway.

Upon my first trips in the vehicle, I was thoroughly impressed by its handling. Acceleration was a little disappointing, as the car has a four-cylinder engine and an automatic transmission, but the G20 hugged the road like nobody's business.

Fuel mileage was impressive. A full tank of gas usually cost me between ten and twelve dollars (probably more like fourteen now), and I could go in excess of two hundred miles on it.

The car's sound system was unmodified from its original form, and I loved it. It pumped out a very full bass, solid treble, and the volume had an adequate range. The car came with a 1-disc in-dash CD player, so naturally I spent a lot of time listening to music.

As for maintenance, aside from filling up the gas tank and changing the oil every three thousand miles, this car was basically trouble-free. I had one minor issue with a small oil leak, and a wire between the battery and the right front headlight became disconnected once, but nothing that I couldn't handle myself.

And now, the kicker. The owner before my stepfather had failed to take care of the car at all. Literally, he had put over fifty thousand miles on it and changed the oil maybe once. He'd taken absolutely no care of it, yet it was still in incredible condition. That speaks volumes for this car's durability.

The saddest day of my driving career occurred as I rode home from school for lunch last April. As I was cruising down a main road at 45, a woman on a side road ran a stop sign to make a left turn, then the idiot stopped in my lane. I slammed the brakes, but it was too late, and I plowed her. Considering that my impact speed was close to 30, I was amazed at how little damage appeared to have been done. The inside was trashed, the airbags blown, and the overhead light hanging by the gearshift, but aside from the front end being fairly compacted, the outside looked okay. For a long time, I thought that the car would be repairable.

In the emergency room, the doctors took some X-Rays. Thanks to the airbag and seatbelt, my head had avoided going through the windshield, and thanks to a large plush toy chicken kept on the center console for good luck, I got out of any broken ribs. The doctor mentioned that I was lucky to have such a "tough little car." I wholeheartedly agree.

A month later, word came back from the insurance company that the car's frame was bent, and it was officially totalled. I was saddened, as I'd developed something of a special bond with this car, being that it had saved my life and all.

A friend of mine asked me recently about the G20, and mentioned that he was thinking of buying a 1995 himself. I told him to do it. I miss my G20, and stand behind it as an excellent car for anyone from a beginning driver to an experienced one looking for a smallish, cheap sedan that'll last forever. A G20, barring idiots running stop signs to make illegal turns, will.
Amount Paid (US$): 7000
Condition: Used
Model Year: 1995
Model and Options: 4 cyl. automatic