Cafe Hitch-hike

2004-11-02

Story of a Mexican

He was born in the mountains of Central Mexico, and ran away from home at age 13. He didn't like his role of being the servant-boy to his father, so he sneaked away to live with his uncle north of the Rio Grande. He lived there without incident until he turned 18. A war was going on, and the US Army needed men, so he received draft papers on his 18th birthday. His uncle panicked and ordered him to immediately return to his father in Mexico, and so he did.

One year of being back with his father, back in the servant role, was enough for him. He wanted to go back to America. He knew Uncle Sam would be waiting for him, but he didn't care. "If I have to, I will fight," he said to his uncle.

He and other Mexicanos from the barrio were packed on a bus and sent for physicals at the military hospital in San Antonio. The physicians and the Army liked the looks of him: 6 feet tall, healthy, and strong. However, he couldn't read the eye chart, even in Spanish. He said he couldn't see it very well. He never really thought of how well he could see, it was just the way it was. The doctor also checked his feet. Disappointment. This Mexican not only had poor eyesight, but he also had flat feet.

He was sent back to his uncle near the Rio Grande.

Nineteen years later, in a town far from the Rio Grande, he started taking night classes. He was not to be disturbed while he studied, though one of his daughters watched him closely but quietly. He read about US history and the US Constitution, and added the three branches of government to his memory. He'd recite the Pledge of Allegiance from time-to-time. A few months later, he was sworn in front of the US courthouse in his town. He was thereafter an American citizen.

He told me he was amazed that anyone could work their way up and be successful. People didn't have to inherit their wealth, but were able to work for it. It was of some comfort for him, as he had to start from the bottom rung. In this land, people got to choose their leaders. The president was Kennedy at the time, and he was in awe that a Roman Catholic (yes, a Catholic just like he) could be head of the greatest country on earth. He had a portrait of John F. Kennedy hanging on his wall.

35 years later, he said this to me, speaking slowly with a Spanish accent:

"I do love Mexico, where I was born and raised. I love everything about it. However, I think America is the greatest and strongest country in the world for its opportunities. I lived in Texas for a long time, and my wife wants to move us there for the better weather, but I think Michigan is the greatest state..."

I could see where his trail was leading.

"...and I think *** is the best city to live in Michigan. And place? I like this neighborhood. I think my house on Madison Avenue is a very good place to live."

He later said to me, "when I vote, I want the leaders who can think of people who have to work everyday. That's why I support the Democrats. They can do a much better job of this than the Republicans. Republicans, they think too much about the rich and do things for the rich. I also think that Democrats are more fair, and want everyone to be able to have opportunities. People get mad about using taxpayer money for the poor, but I think it's good. We really have to care for one another..."

The man is now 81 years old and still lives on Madison Avenue, where Kennedy's portrait hangs on his wall. The man is my mother's father. Whenever I vote in major elections, I can't help but think of him, where he came from, and what being an American means to him.

I'm so glad my grandfather shared these things with me.

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