Justin Still and Claudia Still

Boaty, Beetles, and Building Back: Our Garage-Built Life

The story I’m about to share is 100% factual—as much as I can recall it, anyway. Motherhood has a funny way of wiping the memory clean, and it’s been over 21 years since Justin and I met. But the moments that mattered most? They’re burned into my soul like an old weld.

Prequel

I came to the U.S. just before I turned six. My dad was a welder and mechanic—one of the best. Shortly after buying our first home, he got fired. When my mom asked what he was going to do next, he said, “Start my own business.” With four chubby kids and one terrified wife, that might’ve sounded crazy. But we turned that dream into a family affair. My mom became the manager, and us kids were raised as shop monkeys crawling around 18-wheelers. I signed up for shop class in high school, thinking it’d be an easy A. That’s where the story really begins.
Justin was 13 when his dad brought home a 1966 Mustang as a father-son project. That car—and their bond—sparked something in him. He also took shop for the easy A. Our high school had a special program that placed students in dealership apprenticeships. I ended up at Baytown Community Toyota as a service tech. Justin was the service advisor—basically the secretary. We quickly found out we lived in nearby neighborhoods and went to the same school, just two years apart. He tricked me into giving him my number—told me he needed it for “all the techs.” I didn’t even realize our first date was a date. He asked me to help him check out a Mini Cooper for his mom. Cute, right?

Chapter 1

Fast forward a few years and a whole lot of cars later: Justin’s become a hot shot driver—some of that was definitely my dad’s influence. In 2018, he suffers a mini stroke and decides to quit driving for good. I’m working as a lab tech at ExxonMobil, and we open up a shop full-time on our property.
Then came Dakota—Justin’s cousin. He moved nearby, started helping at the shop, and brought with him a camera, a quick wit, and a love for Volkswagens. Thanks to him, we ended up with a special VW bus—a 1969 Camper, 1-owner family car with all its original paperwork. The family wanted it restored so the dad could enjoy it one last time. He passed away before that moment came, but he got to see it run again. His daughter later asked us to help find it a home. We showed that bus at Autorama (1st and 2nd place), at Mecum, at Lonestar Roundup—it’s a survivor with soul.

Chapter 2- The Family

To say we’re car aficionados is an understatement. We used to name our pets after cars. That tradition continued when we had kids: Lincoln, Shelby, and Catalina. We didn’t know if we’d ever be able to have kids, so we kept the gender a surprise until they arrived—because some mysteries are worth holding onto. Lincoln came 10 years after we got married. Shelby followed five years later. He was going to be “Cooper” until we watched Ford v. Ferrari while I was pregnant. We liked how “Shelby” sounded better. Our third, Catalina, was named after one of our favorite cruisers. We built a life—one spark plug, one idea, one sleepless night at a time.

Chapter 3- The year of demolition.

You don’t see this part on car shows. I was exposed to unauthorized chemicals at work and got seriously sick. My health crumbled. My finances followed. Our marriage hit the rocks. Communication broke down. Everything revolved around the cars. I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life—I committed Justin to a mental health facility in December to save him. It was painful, but necessary. He learned. He grew. I did too. Therapy has helped us rebuild—not just our marriage, but ourselves.

Chapter 4- Rebuilding

In 2025, Exxon let me go. Doctor restrictions meant I lost my job, my insurance, and a sense of security. We’ve been fighting through workers comp and disability ever since. But through it all, we never stopped building—literally and figuratively.
One of Justin’s customers had an “art van” that he drove in parades. Last year, he invited us to join him. We were instantly hooked. This year, it became a family affair.
We built Boaty McBoatFace—a free Facebook boat mounted on a VW drivetrain. Our 9-year-old Lincoln, already a professional artist with his own gallery and news feature, designed the whole look. He even makes NFC keychains with his 3D printer—400 of them as a gift for the Hot Rod Tour of Texas. The kid’s a force.

Last month, we hired three new apprentices and our best friend Jessica as a marketing director. She’s also Dakota’s girlfriend, an incredible baker, and a boudoir model. Her confidence inspired me to try modeling too. It helped me heal, rediscover myself, and feel powerful again. Now, I want to empower other women—especially women in the auto industry. I want to build badass cars for badass women.
We’re expanding: a body shop, an upholstery center, a greenhouse photo studio. My hands may not work like they used to, but my vision is stronger than ever. Through others, I pass my skills on.

What are VW fleas?

When people found out we could work on Volkswagens, our place became infested—with Beetles. Shelby loves climbing all over Justin, and to get him to stop, we’d warn him: “VW fleas will bite!” Justin would pretend to get hurt, showing him a fake bite. It worked. Sort of.

This life has never been easy. But it’s real. Raw. Beautiful in its own way. And I wouldn't trade it for anything. We learned in 2024 what matters most: our health, our family, and the relationships we build. The cars are cool. But the people? They’re everything.

And somehow, it all started in shop class.