SAN ANTONIO — There aren't many things more American than the automobile. And the things we do with our automobiles can turn heads at the same time as they're paying homage to our closest loved ones.
San Antonio's low-riders will drop more than your jaw; the community of car enthusiasts at the wheel are a passionate group. Among them is Eddie Torres, who owns (and has previously owned) several hot rods.
He also knows everyone who is anyone in the Alamo City's car world. And on a recent Wednesday evening, he invited me to the big parking lot that his backyard backs into, introducing us to the hardcore low-riders so we can learn where their passion comes from.
"I love it. It's what I do, it's my job," says Hector Bazan, standing in front of his cherry '58 Chevy Impala.
He reaches inside and grabs his hydraulics controller. Instantly, the car starts to bounce up and down.
Then he handed me the controls with a simple instruction: "Just tap it."
I was apprehensive to move the switches. But when I did, the front end of the car lurched straight up by a foot.
"Now tap the back," Bazan says. "Just tap it."
I did – two or three times – and the back also rose to level out with the front.
I instantly knew why they do it.
A tribute on wheels
Bazan has and has had many cars, but this Impala is special. He built and later dedicated it to his 16-year-old daughter, who was murdered.
On the rear trunk is an airbrushed picture of his beautiful daughter—a memorial.
Bazan says he originally painted it candy-blue. When his daughter saw it, she told him, "I don't want it blue, I want it red!"
So, like any doting father, Bazan wet-sanded it down and began repainting it.
His daughter never got to see it finished.
"When it's time to get away from the world, I just get in the car," says Joe Guardiola, whose '63 Chevy Impala turns heads the minute he backs it out of the garage.
Once he pops the truck or the hood... you're blinded. Everything is chrome and cleaned spotless.
A growing community
There are at least half a dozen low-rider clubs in San Antonio, and everyone says the same thing: "It's about family."
The culture is uniquely Hispanic, but not limited to Mexican or Latin American blood. When it gets in your veins or your heart, it's parked there for good.
"It's just a part of me," says Mary Alice Carranza.
She and her husband have three cars, a '65, a '68 and a '72. All are Chevy Impalas.
"I wasn't going to always ride in the passenger seat," says Carranza. "I'm going to drive. And now, sometimes he just rides with me!"
Carranza is one of the "Ladies De Lowriders" of San Antonio. Cars, in general, are historically a male-dominated hobby. But these ladies aren't content just sitting in the passenger seat.
"We skateboarded in the streets a lot and would always see these beautiful low-riders come by... so when we started getting our cars, we wanted to be low-riders, too," says Carlos Munoz, president of "Lowrider Style."
"I've had several," adds Munoz, "but this '72 Monte Carlo has been with me the longest."
Looking at it, it's easy to see why. The beautiful blue paint, courtesy of Bazan, is flawless. The engine compartment shines with chrome and spotless paint.
All around us there are cars as old as a 1937 Chevy to newer cars made in the '80s and '90s.
All have one thing in common: They will bounce and twist, rise in angles cars were not meant to do. They will also turn your head, even when they're simply easing down the street in that low and slow style.