Eric Ramos is pointing out a few lowrider favorites at the World of Wheels, Milwaukee’s first car show of the year in early 2024.
“’54 Belair. ’35 Packard, ’60 Impala. A ’48 Fleetline German Helmet,” he said with a smile. “‘66 Caprice. ’80 Deville Cadillac — it’s the baddest Cadillac in the Southside, right? Street style. The three-wheeled king. The black and gold don’t fold!”
For this show, Ramos brought out his baby, as he calls it. It’s his ‘35 Packard – think any Prohibition-era gangster movie. It’s got an oversized chrome grill, wave-like side panels and a velvety, navy blue paint job. There’s a decal on the back that says, “Carnalismo o Nada.”
@boxchevytony.187 @El Milwas R Ranflitas C.C. IN DA HOUSE🔥 #milwaukee #chicago #chicano #lowrider #classic #35 ##packard #ranflitascarclub #oldschool ♬ original sound – Tony
All together, there are 20 to 25 lowriders here today. And that number, like Milwaukee’s lowrider scene, is growing.
“The lowrider scene, I think, is bada–. In the last 15 years, easily, it’s changed,” said Ramos. “People are starting to learn more. You start seeing clubs and stuff like that.”
While lowriders are having a moment in Milwaukee, Ramos said a lot of the scene today can be traced back to one club in the early 1990s: Vajitos shop on 6th and Orchard. He grew up down the block and remembers there wasn’t much else at the time, even as lowrider culture was huge in cities like Los Angeles and Chicago.
“I remember as we grew up, I think it was our generation that blew it up,” said Ramos of the lowrider scene.
Another major change at that time was the introduction of “Lowrider” magazine. It was the “Vogue” or “GQ” for street culture featuring the baddest rides from coast to coast. And at the back of each issue was an ad section where riders — in a place like Milwaukee — could finally find parts they’ve been searching for. Maybe they wanted to build a custom bike or needed hydraulics. The magazine featured every kind of wire rim and tire package a fanatic could dream of. Page after page of custom chrome. Lowrider culture now dropped monthly.
Now, the problem wasn’t where to find the parts, but how much to spend on them.
“Hundreds of thousands (of dollars). Oh, yeah. (It cost) hundreds of thousands from buying cars, parts,” said Ramos. “I mean, you get a car. What do you do? Rims, radio, hydraulic. And you got to keep them clean.”
Car culture has been a family affair for Ramos. Uncles, cousins and friends got him hooked. His parents hoped focusing on cars would keep him out of trouble.
“Can I say a bad word? They knew like this little f—er is going to (get into trouble). We got to make sure we keep him busy.”
They tried. But besides being drawn to cars, Ramos was drawn to the streets.
“Why sugarcoat it? I was a gangbanger. I was a drug dealer. I was a criminal,” said Ramos.
Ramos spent a few years in what he called a “federal college” in Kentucky. He retired from gangbanging in the early 2000s and was released from prison in 2007. He knows not everyone can walk away as easily as he did. That’s when he dove headfirst into the lowrider scene. It didn’t take long for other riders to invite him out to car shows or go cruising. It was just what he needed.
“These guys are not dealing. These guys are not gangbanging. Some of these guys are already family or have families,” said Ramos on his new community.
Ramos ended up joining a car club. It brought a lot of the things he was familiar with in gang life – camaraderie, structure. But also, some bad politics. After a while, he and a group of guys branched off and started their own club in Milwaukee: Ranflitas.
“They used to say, ‘Oh, look at the Ranfla.’ The homies back then, the zoot suiters or whatever (said), ‘Here comes the ride.’ In reality, that’s what it means: the ride. Here comes the car,” explained Ramos.
While the Milwaukee chapter is modest, five to seven riders, Ranflitas is a nationwide club. Their impact in Milwaukee is as large as a G-Body. They’ve organized neighborhood cleanups, food and coat drives and picnics. They’ve helped change the narrative of who’s behind the wheel.
Ranflitas has also started their own car show, El Grito, which turned five in 2023 – in its biggest event yet.
“We (saw) that Fifth Street was getting gentrified. It was all raza businesses there. We started seeing the changes like, ‘Man, we gotta do something just to let the newcomers know where they’re at … let it be known to you guys we’ve been here,” said Ramos.
Thousands of people took over South 5th Street in Walker’s Point. There was music, vendors, traditional Aztec dancers, all just a block away from where it all started for Milwaukee, with Vajitos. That’s what this is all about to Ramos: keeping the culture growing and thriving.
Today, Ramos is a family man with a wife and three kids. His youngest, Pee-wee, is 11 years-old. His son likes cars but loves breakdancing – which, like lowriding, is more than just dancing. It’s a movement. Ramos connected Pee-wee with some old b-boy friends, and started taking him to classes.
“He was good! Like really good!” said Ramos.
At El Grito car show in 2023, they brought b-boyers out to perform, including Pee-wee. It’s an art form not every lowrider has seen up close.
“From the B-Boy scene, (it’s the) same thing. They’ve never been in a lowrider show,” said Ramos. “Now, we’re inspiring each other, you know what I mean? It’s cool because we’re keeping the cultures alive.”
And according to Ramos, that’s the whole point.