I don’t photograph cars very often. Kind of surprising, considering this is (or at least was) the Motor City.

Had the chance to join my camera club for an afternoon surrounded by classic cars. Rows of polished chrome, old muscle, and enough Detroit history packed into one parking lot to make you forget what decade you’re in for a minute.

It was obvious how much these machines mean to the people keeping them alive. Years of work, money, maintenance, pride. I spent 14 years in automotive engineering, so I can appreciate the craftsmanship and the work involved in this.

But it was interesting for reasons beyond the cars themselves. There was this feeling that a lot of this wasn’t just preservation, it was remembrance. Holding onto a version of Detroit that people still want to believe exists somewhere, or maybe one they hope could exist again.