In a small country like Guatemala, i.e, the size of Tennessee, you wouldn't expect to find a lot of classic cars. Given the country's history of oligarchies, caudillos and dictators, they had to have a few Packards, Buicks and the occasional Cadillac. There'd be the official functions and the outings at the race track or the polo club and you'd need a car with running boards for the bodyguards to stand on, as you're headed for the nearest border. A few weeks ago there was a collection of some of the countries select, fifty of the fairest and the finest:
There was the obligatory Corvette, an aged Sprite and two Mercedes of vintage years.
The show was held at the famed Santo Domingo Hotel in Antigua. From somewhere, somehow there was a '32 Ford Phaeton with a transplanted V8, Moon wheel covers and that classic rake straight out of American Graffiti. How did it get way down here? You couldn't drive it here, which implies it was shipped in from somewhere by someone...this country never ceases to amaze me.
In the corner was a '52 Buick Roadmaster Straight Eight, side by side with the style-setting '59 Cadillac of the monstrous tail-fins. I didn't note any bullet holes but maybe those had been epoxy'ed over. With the state of the roads in Guatemala, odds are that these cars never left Guatemala City until recently, since the newer highways were recent improvements. I suspect the '52 Buick could've managed some of the older dirt roads.
Visualize the trunk stuffed full of cash, the aging Generalissimo in the back seat with his younger and latest mistress. The driver and she have a thing going on and the bodyguards know everything. The car smells of pomade, cigars and fear. The Mexican border is six hours away, assuming nothing goes wrong. You know it will: it always does. Welcome to Guatemala.
Source: Guatemala News-El
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