Back in 1983, my mom and dad—Sandy and Benny Braeutigam—gathered with Darwin and Maria Bierlein and a few close friends for a little car show in the St. Lorenz Churchgrove lot. It wasn’t flashy or grand. It was just a group of car lovers who shared a hobby. That day, an Italian car enthusiast showed up, wanting to be part of the fun. He asked how he could help, and that Italian Tony D’Anna went on to help gather door prizes and few sponsorships—little things that helped make the show just a little bigger that year.
There were 83 cars that day. No one imagined that small gathering would one day grow into something so meaningful or that it would touch lives in such deep personal ways.
Years—and three daughters—later, my parents are still heavily involved in the show. And we kids? Well, we didn’t have a choice—we were raised on Auto Fest. As little ones, we ran around with other Immanuel Lutheran children, digging through garbage barrels for pop cans to return for change. Some of us were so small, the bigger kids would hold us upside down just so we could reach the bottom. And we did it—can by can, year after year—because that’s what we were taught: this show was about more than cars. It was about giving back.
As we grew, so did our roles. We sold T-shirts, helped choose show car winners, and now—I help in the back office, year-round, for the Italians Tony and Geri D’Anna. From the moment we started volunteering, we never imagined that someday it would help save the lives of our own family members.
Auto Fest is, and always has been, a 100% charitable show. Over the years, it has supported countless causes throughout our community—but one of the most impactful has been our partnership with Covenant Healthcare.
The Frankenmuth Auto Fest purchased equipment that helps save the tiniest, most fragile lives: neonatal monitors in helicopters, retina eye cameras, infant head scanners, and 6 EKG machines built just for newborns—equipment adult machines can’t replicate. These machines are used every single day.
In 2024, we helped create something that can help the parents during difficult times—a Ronald McDonald Family Room inside Covenant. Built in partnership with Ronald McDonald House Charities of Mid-Michigan, the William McNally Family Foundation, and the Covenant Healthcare Foundation, this space offers three bedrooms, two wellness rooms, and a stocked kitchenette. It’s a place for families to rest, just steps from where their babies are fighting for their lives.
We thought we were giving back to help strangers. Until Labor Day weekend, 2017.
Just four days before the Frankenmuth Auto Fest, my family was ‘up north’, relaxing at our cabin in Au Gres. My oldest sister, Trina, 26 weeks pregnant, suddenly needed to be rushed by ambulance to Covenant in Saginaw.
That weekend, our family blessed us with a little miracle: Cameron William. Born at just 2 pounds, 2 ounces—smaller than a pineapple—he was just 26 weeks and 3 days old. He was so tiny, so delicate, and so strong. He fought for his life every single day for 121 days in the NICU. Only four family members were allowed to see him. The rest of us watched from a distance—praying and hoping.
Years later, Cameron is a bright, healthy little boy with a contagious smile and boundless energy. We thought we’d been through the worst. But life had more in store.
On June 4, 2021, my other sister Kari went in for a routine pregnancy checkup. It turned into something much more serious—she was immediately admitted to the hospital on bed rest. With strict COVID restrictions in place, only her husband Ray could visit. For two weeks, we waited. Then, on June 18, we got the call: her baby girl was coming early.
Becklyn Kay was born that day, at 26 weeks and 4 days, weighing just 1 pound, 6.9 ounces—less than a pair of shoes.
We knew what lay ahead. We’d lived it before, but that didn’t make it any easier. Becklyn stayed in the NICU for 105 long days. Due to restrictions, only Kari and Ray could be with her. The rest of us met her through photos—beautiful, heartbreaking pictures of a tiny girl with wires, tubes, and machines keeping her alive.
All the emotions come out during this time-
Being the extended family, with the joys of having a new addition to the family, but not being able to meet them in person for months. Getting pictures of the miracle, yet so scared to see how fragile the child actually is. Throwing the baby shower, after the baby is already born, hoping the newborn would make it home to use the gifts given.
The newly excited parents, excited for the next step in their life, only to have a bump in the road by having a little one in the hospital on ventilators, with feeding tubes, wires hooked up all over the 2lb body. Driving 30-45 minutes each way, multiples times a day, just to feel the tiny little hand wrapped around a finger. The guilt of driving back to a house with an empty nursery while their child is still at the hospital.
In those hospital rooms, are the machines that we helped fund. In the Ronald McDonald Family Room, are the snacks and the beds and the showers that we helped provide—because of every single T-shirt sold, every pop can collected, and every hour volunteered since 1983.
Our donations didn’t just help someone else’s family.
They saved ours.
Today, Cameron and Becklyn are happy, healthy little children. And we are forever grateful. Not just for the doctors and nurses who cared for our niece and nephew, but for you. The car lovers, the volunteers, the spectators, the sponsors—the heart of Auto Fest.
From my parents, my sisters, Cameron, Becklyn, and myself—thank you. Thank you for helping us survive the hardest moments of our lives.
You didn’t just build a car show.
You built a legacy of love.
