“We’ve
seen it all,” John Lujan
said, referring to some of
the more peculiar things
that have come into his scrap
yard in the past 37 years.
One of the oddest was a cremation
urn found in the back of
a car purchased from the
local impound lot.
Lujan
said that the owner had left
the urn in the back of the
car. It was there when the
car was impounded, and still
there when it was finally
sold for scrap. “It was the
guy’s mother,” Lujan said,
but despite several calls,
no one ever came to pick
it up.
“We
finally buried the
damned thing,” Lujan
said. “It was all we
could do.”
Lujan
has also been witness
to
marital friction when
one
spouse sells a car
for scrap
and the other shows
up and
wants to buy it back.
“It
can get messy,” Lujan
said.
His
37 years in the scrap
business
in Colorado Springs
have
taken him through a
lot
of ups and downs in
the industry.
And before he started
his
own business, he worked
at his father’s junkyard
near Alamosa, Colorado,
which
had been operating
“since
the thirties,” according
to Lujan. “We just
kind
of grew up in it.”
Lujan
didn’t plan on going
into
the scrap business,
but
when he got out of
the military,
he was looking for
something
to do. His brother
was a
mechanic at the time,
and
the two decided that
there
was money to be had
in junk.
They started the business
“with nothing – a pickup
and a trailer, and
that’s
about it.”
During
the best years, P&L
employed about 20 people,
but now it’s a family operation
again with Lujan and his
wife and son, his brother,
and a nephew. “We used to
do up to 1,500 cars a month,
but now we don’t do 30 cars
a month when metal prices
go down,” Lujan said.
Even
so, P&L
accepts scrap from towing
companies, salvage yards,
and the public, and has industrial
accounts. “We’ll drop a box
off for them,” he said. Many
of his regular customers
are holding back on selling
cars, hoping prices will
go up, but competition from
auto shredding companies
that have moved into the
area have also eaten into
his business.
But
when there’s work to
be
done, Lujan’s got a
car
crusher
and plenty of torches
and
other equipment ready
to
process what comes
in.
Most
of Lujan’s scrap is
sold
locally, but he said
that
one of his biggest
challenges
has been “dealing with
foreign
markets.” And of course,
anticipating local
markets
can be just as trying.
“All
the fire’s gone out
of it,”
Lujan said. “It was
great
then, but not now.”
Whether
he’ll choose to weather
out the current bad
economy,
he hasn’t decided.
“I’m
64 now, my brother’s
68,”
he said. Even if the
scrap
business doesn’t get
passed
down to the next generation
as-is, Lujan said that
he
had a piece of property
set aside where his
son
could
operate a towing business.
Meanwhile,
he’s got no regrets
about
his career choice,
noting
that having a business
like
his allowed him the
freedom
to take time off when
he
wanted. “No need to
ask
anyone,” he said. “You
can
take off to go hunting
or
fishing whenever you
want.”
As for the future?
“It’s
anybody’s guess.”