My senses were on overload as I walked through the side door leading into a bay area with two lifts. On one of the lifts was a teal-colored Jeepster. On the other, a stunning blue Cherokee Chief. And resting near the rear entryway, a completely stripped-down white Cherokee Chief awaited its resurrected life as a modern classic. It was as if I had entered a modern-day Dr. Frankenstein laboratory, only this time it wasn’t a person being resurrected. It was a slew of old school Jeeps whose previous life had been completely worn and had entered a transitionary phase en route to becoming much improved. It was akin to Jeep Life 2.0. The doctor? Daniel van Doveren and his crew at Jeep Heritage.
It was the 1920s and the world had evolved. In San Ciro de Acosta, located within the state of San Luis Potosi in Mexico, a young family was living on a farm and sharing in the responsibilities of farm life. The family was large with a total of eight children but due to illness, three of the children passed away. Shortly thereafter, both parents – my Great Grandparents – died within a year of each other, leaving the remaining five children without family and without an inheritance, causing them to eventually move to Mexico City where they lived on the streets and struggled to survive. The youngest of these children, Jeronimo, was my Great Uncle. He developed an entrepreneurial spirit as a young boy and eventually turned himself into a successful businessman who, amongst other things, loved anything and everything Americana. Whether it was something as mundane as drinking a Coke or as expansive as his passion for Harley-Davidson motorcycles, my Tio Jero enjoyed American ingenuity. He also loved Jeeps.
