A cavalcade of classic cars lined along the parking lot entrance of St. James the Greater Catholic Church in southwest Oklahoma City.
Vintage red and pink Chevrolet Impalas flanked a blue 1978 Chevrolet Monte Carlo. It had been Adolfo Lopez's Monte Carlo. Twenty years old at the time of his death, Lopez considered the coupe his pride and joy.
A young man bowed his head as he leaned across the Monte Carlo's roof. Jay Pee said the owner, Lopez, had been his cousin, but described their dynamic in terms closer to brotherhood. The two were active in Oklahoma City's "lowriding" community, a vibrant culture and automobile artform built around customizing cars to sit low to the ground.
He reminisced about "pretty clean videos" they would create together to celebrate the culture, before pausing to contemplate how Lopez died.
"He died a hero, man," Jay Pee said. "If he hadn't did what he did, there'd have been a mass shooting."
Lopez was one of two men who died about 12:30 a.m. July 19 after a fight escalated into gunfire during a private party at Dos Cinco Restaurant on SW 25.
According to OKC police, 23-year-old Mosses Sandoval shot and killed Lopez, who'd been unarmed and had his hands up, attempting to deescalate the situation. Sandoval was then shot inside the business by another person, whom police have declined to publicly identify. Three other people were wounded and taken to the hospital by private vehicle, police said.
Despite the circumstances of Lopez's death, Jay Pee said he did not regret that the event happened — because Lopez had been having so much fun.
"Beautiful night of lowriding that my dawg was enjoying," Jay Pee said. "He did what he loved doing, and we all seen him happy one last time."
Born Oct. 30, 2005, Lopez was known as "Dolf" to some and "Dee Low" to many others. Zeke Gonzalez, founder and executive director of a boxing gym on SW 25, said he remembered Lopez as an energetic and positive-minded young boy.
The boxing teacher said he would see Lopez at the alternative Emerson South school, where he was often outgoing and helpful.
"I did see him around, and I'd seen him, you know, shining up stuff, always working with somebody, always trying to help somebody do something," Gonzalez said.
Gonzalez knew Lopez's family through shared interests in the lowrider community, which Gonzalez said he'd cultivated ever since he was a kid on a lowrider bicycle.
"It's a big family," Gonzalez said. "The culture is something that you are born into. They kind of pass it on, generation to generation. It's a love for art — that's what it is. Art through your vehicles."
K-Bang Kenny, an OKC-based DJ and photographer, is also deeply embedded in the city's lowrider community. In a social media post, Kenny said he drove Lopez to the hospital as quickly as possible but was unable to save him.
"After sitting in the back of a cop car for three hours with blood all over me, anticipating and wondering if he was still alive … he was pronounced dead," Kenny wrote. "I'm still in shock and disbelief."
Kenny has admitted that, while he himself was not shot, he is "not okay" and has been deeply hurt by his friend's death. He also announced on social media a new initiative, "Guns Down Prayers Up," in which he hopes to push fellow young people to advocate for peace in the streets.
"We have to hold ourselves accountable, and show them there's a better path than what they are choosing," Kenny said. "Together, we can change our city."
The south OKC community, anchored by the SW 25 corridor popularly dubbed Calle Dos Cinco, has been home to a Latino-majority population for the past three decades. Hispanic residents account for nearly a quarter of OKC's entire population, and southside neighborhoods have been attempting to spearhead revitalization efforts for many years.
Challenges have been persistent, driven by systemic hurdles of investment and the high cost to redevelop commercial properties. Most recently, city planning and leadership have attempted to embrace the community with the opening of a long-envisioned cultural plaza on SW 25, but securing a "renaissance" in the area will take some time, many locals acknowledge.
Much of the divide is psychological, with residents and investors alike from north OKC having historically shown a hesitance to cross south of the river. Commentators have suggested that violence is more concentrated in the south OKC area, but local data and community advocates both argue this is a misconception.
Gonzalez and other members of the lowrider community have also been quick to emphasize that the violent incident was not reflective of the car clubs.
"It had nothing really to do with the lowriding," the coach said. "He's just part of the lowriding community, and I think that's what hurts the most, because of how it happened."
Hundreds of people packed into the southside church Wednesday, July 29, to pay their respects to Lopez's family. Numerous attendees wore black or white T-shirts with Lopez's picture and the words "cruising into paradise."
Lopez's fellow lowriders gathered their cars to honor him with one final cruise. Along with an Arcadia police escort, the procession wrapped around Scissortail Park before circling to Sunnylane Cemetery.
Community members had also organized raffles, dinners and donation drives to support the family ahead of the funeral.
But the pain is still raw, and the family declined requests for interviews with The Oklahoman.
"Seeing his dad today, he came up to me, and you could see it in his face, he's hurting," Gonzalez said. "But, you know, he's one of those who's like, 'I can't show it right now,' because he's trying to be strong for the family."
Lopez's mother, Lupe Herrera, posted a message on Facebook, thanking the community after her son's funeral.
"Seeing so many people come together to show love, support, and respect for (Lopez) meant more to us than words can ever express," Herrera posted. "Every act of kindness has helped carry us through one of the hardest times of our lives."
More: Calle Dos Cinco community leaders seek path forward after fatal shooting
"A very special thank you to all the Lowriders who came out to honor our baby boy, Dee. The love, respect, and beautiful tribute you gave him touched our hearts in a way we'll never forget."
Officiants at Lopez's fundraiser invoked a popular Catholic funeral poem, "No te aflijas por mi, que ahora soy libre," or "Do not grieve for me, for now I am free."
"If my parting has left a void, then fill it with memories of joy," part of the poem translates. "A shared friendship, a smile, a kiss — ah, yes, these are the things I, too, will miss."
This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Family, lowrider community remember OKC man killed trying to diffuse fight