Rollin’ Through Brewster

A 1939 engine owned by the Croton Falls FD sparkles at the Brewster Fire Department parade last week. See page 5 for story and photos. “Buy a Hybrid. I need the gas” is the message you find on the back of P.J. Pascarelli’s ‘65 El Dorado. “I don’t care if gas is ten dollars a gallon. I’ll still drive it,” he says. At the car cruise in front of Brewster Beer and Soda, he grabs the controls of his hydraulics system and lifts the car into a perilouslooking pose, next to a Maroon ‘65 Corvette. It took him four weekends, with friends helping, to install the system.

The Brewster Car Cruise was the 8)( idea of Chris Howard, the owner of Brewster Beer and Soda, and his friend Dennis Shelly. Because nearby Sinapi’s Pizzaria closes on Tuesdays, and because the neighboring 7 Stars Diner is owned by another “car person,” the lot is open to accommodate a few dozen rides every Tuesday until October 6. Howard notes, that “We’ve been rained out a lot this year, but otherwise, we’re here.” Howard owns a ‘72 Chevy Camaro, and Shelley brings in his ‘93 GMC truck, with an impressive

Pascarelli's El Dorado lifted on a custom suspension next to another Classic Chevy. airbag suspension system that allows

him to sit the body on the ground. 8)(

The charms of the Brewster Car Cruise are obvious: the chrome, the classic cars, the impressive new Camaro that shows up with a Connecticut license plate, and the sound of “Freebird” emanating from a stereo set to the classic rock station. Attendees talk about the cost of replacing a German exhaust system, or the collapse in the classic car market once speculators were driven out by a downturn created by speculation.

(Above) Starburst flames decorate this truck as spectators wander from under one hood to another. (Below) P.J. Pascarelli doesn’t care if you think his car is politically correct. Photos by Michael Brendan Dougherty Strangely, talk even turns to politics. A few locals appreciate Assemblyman Greg Ball’s support of SEMA, a group that protects hot rod enthusiasts and after-market parts makers from onerous regulation. SEMA treats wrenching on a car, and customization not only as a legitimate economic activity, but something like a natural right of Americans, a part of our heritage.

The Brewster Car Cruise distinguishes itself by a more intimate feel than a similar event held at Marcus Dairy in Danbury. The Cruise allows any car to park, unlike others that exclude foreign cars or models made after a certain year. The car cruise has grown to over three dozen cars some weeks based only on word of mouth, and though a few participants could be called regulars, the lot regularly attracts far flung first-timers.

The Brewster Car Cruise is a place for nostalgics, for chrome-lovers, and tinkerers. And Howard would hasten to add, “It’s free, too.” Howard explains that there was no reason for the Cruise to start other than the fact that “I’d be here anyway, so I might as well.” And while the Cruise hasn’t had a measurable impact on business at his store—many of the Cruisers have coffee cups from the nearby Dunkin’ Donuts—he’s happy to get the word out in case Cruise participants are throwing a party.

Car customization achieved a reputation for excess and flashiness over the past decade, due to shows like Cribs and the well-publicized bad deeds of a few street racers. But the Brewster Car Cruise shows another side, where men of several generations gather, trade secrets, and tell stories about the cars that they loved as teenagers, and the cars that they saved up for so long to buy again as adults.