Will Barduca says his lowrider isn’t really his just yet.
The 47-year-old Riverview man knows he has some work to do on his 1988 Chevrolet Caprice. That’s because it was already a lowrider when he bought it for $10,000.
It certainly acts the part now, with its custom blue coloring seemingly light and dark all at once and its trunk packed full with a dozen batteries to help power its movements up and down.
“Gotta make it mine,” he said, envisioning a new paint job at least, to make it … crazy. “It’s somebody else’s ‘til you make it yours.”
Barduca had come to this lot off Michigan Avenue at the edge of southwest Detroit on Saturday, May 9, to celebrate a tradition, the annual Blessing of the Lowriders. Prior years had brought larger crowds, according to several folks who had come, but the threat of bad weather and the resulting burst of rain and hail probably kept more than a few away.
Still, dozens of cars showed, most displaying the kind of care and devotion that turn an old car into a personalized work of art.
Danny Garcia, 41, of Melvindale, held a pineapple Jarritos — his favorite flavor of the colorful and sweet Mexican soda — as he discussed what makes a lowrider:
It has to have hydraulics, so it can be lowered to the ground or hopped. It also needs to look good.
“It’s gotta have a nice flashy paint job, lots of chrome. You’ve gotta keep it clean,” he said.
Garcia’s been working on his own lowrider, a 1964 Chevrolet Impala, for five years. It gleams in destroyer gray, with candy blue on top. He had a shop build and install the interior but “everything else I did myself.” That would include installing the four pumps and eight batteries to power the hydraulics. He has recently added blue-accented rims.
“Dedication is our car club. (Our) president always says you can’t do lowriding without dedication,” said Garcia, whose son, Manuel, 19, was also along.
Manuel Garcia — not a fan of the Jarritos cola he was drinking because it’s got “too much sugar” — is more into muscle cars, but he said it was “just nice being out here seeing what my dad likes.”
Lowriders are more than cars (and bicycles). They also signify the culture that surrounds them.
“When you’re broke down on the side of the road, somebody’s there for you,” said Rebecca Velasco, who had come with her husband, Armando, and their daughter, Armani, 2½.
The family from southwest Detroit brought their lowrider, a 1982 Cadillac Coupe DeVille in black and gray, and Armani’s little red stroller.
“When you inherit something, you make it yours,” said Rebecca Velasco, explaining that when Armani graduates from the stroller, she’ll inherit and update her dad’s bike. Armando’s lowrider journey began on a bicycle as a teenager. That was “when the dream started,” he said.
The Blessing of the Lowriders itself dates to the 1990s. Victor Villalobos, the founder, explained to the crowd that in 1997, he had met a group of young people being judged and dismissed because of who they were, “lowriders, Brown kids with beautiful cars and bicycles” but with big dreams and bigger hearts. They were seen as a problem instead of for who they were.
They went to Ste. Anne de Detroit Catholic Church and asked for a blessing, starting a tradition that has seen those kids grow, prosper and continue building a community. On May 9, Pastor John Cummings of Grace in Action church continued the tradition, leading the blessing of the cars, those who ride them and those who had come to enjoy them.
Eric D. Lawrence is the senior car culture reporter at the Detroit Free Press. Send your tips and suggestions about cool automotive stuff to elawrence@freepress.com. Become a subscriber. Submit a letter to the editor at freep.com/letters.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Lowriders aren’t deterred by rain, hail at annual Blessing
Reporting by Eric D. Lawrence, Detroit Free Press / Detroit Free Press
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