When my dad purchased a few die-cast collectable muscle cars, I am quite positive the last thing that crossed his mind was the number of questions his three-year-old daughter would ask about them. She constantly wanted to play, tried so hard to remember the name “Camora” (Camaro), and asked every question under the sun about the little plastic engine parts; breaking them and putting them back together. That daughter was me.
A true passion can be defined as any powerful or compelling emotion, and boy, oh boy, did my desire to be around cars indubitably grow through my adolescent years. Thanks to my father, he continuously was fueling my curious mind and educating me. He would take me to car shows, allow me to assist with minor work being done to our family vehicles, and read magazines with me over breakfast. All through grade school, I would tie cars into my projects, draw my dream vehicles in art class, and try and teach my friends, who typically had little to no interest in the topic, all I had been learning.
Cars became my release. I bought my first car when I was 16. It was a Jeep Grand Cherokee and to this day, I credit most of my “car experience” to that vehicle. Even growing up, I never would have expected to feel so in tune with what most view as a hunk of metal.
I have met amazing people, and experienced incredible events because of my love for cars, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. My collection has grown to include a street bike and muscle car, and will forever be growing. My friend circle is tighter because of others that share the passion. My father started me off on this path, and he continues to visit shows and work on our vehicles with me. He is my best friend, and top educator. He is encouraging and the sole reason why I have grown with this unwavering passion within the automotive industry.