When Dodge debuted the Charger in 1966 as a pseudo-luxury fastback, nobody panicked. But the aggressive 1968 redesign turned it into a full-blown muscle car icon, keeping cash registers ringing well into the dark days of the early 1970s automotive slump.
Dodge managed to move over 46,000 Chargers. Don’t let that mass-market statistic fool you, though. The high-performance R/T variant accounted for under 10,000 units, and the ultra-exclusive Special Edition (SE) luxury package, replete with leather-and-vinyl bucket seats, a sports steering wheel, pedal dress-up kit, deep-dish wheel covers, woodgrain dash accents, and the fancy light package, was a mere 15.5 percent of those cars. That equals exactly 1,452 Charger R/T SE models ever built.
This particular B5 Blue specimen, however, goes full Mopar madness. Born as an official dealer demonstrator car it was essentially Chrysler’s way of showing off every single option in the catalog to dazzle showroom visitors.
Out of just 572 registered demo units, only 431 came factory-equipped with air conditioning like this one. But the real headline grabber sits right on the roof: the legendary V1G-code alligator-grain vinyl roof, a bizarre option checked on just 375 Chargers overall.
It gets weirder. Chrysler squeezed so many factory options onto this build that a single window sticker was not enough, requiring a full two-page original document. Beneath the B5 Blue paint, matching blue interior (1 of 159), and triple-blue stripe package sits a column-shifted automatic mated to a matching-numbers 7.2-liter 4-barrel V8.
Add in a 3.55 Sure Grip rear axle (1 of 66 with this engine), the obscure C16 passenger seat option (1 of 50), and original body sheet metal, and the Chrysler Registry officially certifies this California-raised, Florida-transplanted Mopar as a genuine 1-of-1 creation.
With two original build sheets and a thick binder of historical provenance, this glorious piece of Detroit excess will cross the block at Mecum’s Nashville auction on September 26, 2026. Bidders are expected to drop nearly $100,000 for the privilege of driving a 1970 dealer flex machine that literally rocks synthetic alligator hide.
