This model pink Cadillac belongs to my the youngest brother of 9 on my mom's side of the family. He moved to the US when he was younf having nothing more than the clothes on his back and the expertise of being an auto-mechanic who was taught by my grandfather in his garage growing up. This teaching, along with a passion for fixing vehicles from the ground up is what led him to seek better opportunity in the US. He came across this particular model car during his first year of living in America, in a flat with about 5 other guys all immigrants just like him. His landlord was de-cluttering the upstairs unit in an effort to rent it out for additional income. Pitching bag after bag into the garbage, my uncle found this car poking out of the plastic and he was able to rescue it before it was lost forever. After cleaning it up, he made space for it in the small bedside table he had where he kept all his belongings, and he told me he saw that car every day when he woke up as a reminder of what he came to this country for and what he someday hopes to be able to drive and afford through his hard work.