Classic American West Coast Boxing

kikibalt
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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In the Mojave, an oasis turns 75

Image
MEMORIAL: Margit Chiriaco-Rushe sits in front of the Altar of Heroes at the General Patton Memorial Museum at Chiriaco Summit along Interstate10 in Riverside County.
On Aug. 15, 1933, Joseph Chiriaco built a gas station on a two-lane highway in Riverside County. He and his wife raised a family there. Today, the outpost is a booming hamlet along Interstate 10.
By David Kelly, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer

CHIRIACO SUMMIT, CALIF. -- As desert rats go, few are hardier than the Chiriaco clan.

They came to this lonesome hilltop when it was little more than sand, scrub and venomous reptiles. Brooding mountains stared down from above while a handful of residents huddled in remote towns below.

Chiriaco Summit"My father always wanted to go into business for himself, and this was where he chose to do it," said Margit Chiriaco-Rushe.

And so Chiriaco Summit was born, a desolate outpost of howling winds and Spartan comforts, offering what founder Joseph Chiriaco said were "all the necessities and a few of the luxuries" of life. That meant gas, water, a hamburger and maybe a bed in a creaky cabin.

Yet times have changed.

What began as a rough-and-tumble gas station is now a community of some 60 full-time residents. And this month, the now-booming hamlet along Interstate 10 celebrated its 75th anniversary as a landmark way station for travelers heading through the Mojave Desert to Phoenix.

The old Chiriaco family home is now a post office. A modern Chevron station dispenses gas and organic coffee. The General Patton Memorial Museum is open, with an array of vintage tanks on display. There is a Vietnam Memorial Wall, a cafe, classic car garage, trailer park and even an airport.

"We have come through a lot of hard times here, some really lean times," said Chiriaco-Rushe, 70, sitting in a back booth of the coffee shop. "I don't think just anyone can live in the desert. It takes a certain person to see the beauty here."

Appreciating the desert is often an acquired taste, and there were times when she yearned for a change. She once moved to Bloomington, near Fontana.

"One of the reasons I came back is because my family needed me," said Chiriaco-Rushe, chief executive officer of the business. "I wanted to be an artist. I dreamed about maybe moving to New York, but I felt the pull to stay here. It really has been a wonderful life."

And one that has touched many others.

On Aug. 15, hundreds of travelers stopped by to congratulate Chiriaco-Rushe and her extended family on the anniversary.

"We go to the river a lot and always stop in for dinner or a malt," said Nancy Barnes, 77, of Riverside. "It's a unique place with a personal touch. There is a pull that makes you want to come in. I can't go by without stopping."

Judy Duff drove by without stopping for decades until learning that she shared the same birthday -- Aug. 15, 1933 -- with the summit. The retired Riverside nurse felt the story was too good to keep to herself, so she drove up to share it.

"I used to see this place all the time on the way to Phoenix, but I never went in," she said. "I thought it was fascinating that we shared the same birthday. I worried though, what if I got there and Margit wasn't there? Who would I tell? The cook?"

Chiriaco-Rushe circulated among the local dignitaries like the chieftain of a small kingdom. She hugged Riverside County Sheriff Stanley Sniff and posed under the cannon of a Sherman tank.

"Hurry up, I think I'm going to melt," she told a photographer as the sun beat down relentlessly.

The garrulous Huell Howser, host of KCET-TV Channel 28's "California's Gold," showed up with a camera crew and embraced her.

"Margit is a piece of history," he declared. "In a place like this, that seems so empty, you have two people who came out to find their dream. If that's not an example of California's gold, I don't know what is."

Chiriaco-Rushe smiled broadly, then ducked into a back room of the post office.

"This used to be our bedroom when we were kids," she said, standing in the narrow room now serving as her office. "We had four cots lined up in here. Each day we would take the school bus down to Indio."

Her father came from Alabama, working as a surveyor for the Los Angeles Bureau of Water and Power and then the Metropolitan Water District. His wife, Ruth, was a Minnesotan. They built their gas station along a two-lane highway about 30 miles east of Indio.

"My mom was a Norwegian blond, my dad was an Italian, and they both loved the desert," she said.

"We grew up without air conditioning in pretty crunched conditions. People out here made their houses from boxes and their fences from ocotillo sticks. But we had good values, and we were all straight-A students."

In 1942, Gen. George S. Patton came calling. He had chosen a site just a mile east of the summit as headquarters for an 18,000-square-mile training site designed to prepare soldiers for desert combat. When he died in 1945, the family erected a monument in his honor and donated the land where the museum now sits.

Joseph and Ruth Chiriaco died within months of each other in 1996. Their children took over and continue to run the summit, along with their children.

Many of the cooks, waitresses and clerks live in trailers behind the post office. Chiriaco-Rushe also lives on the property.

Over the years, the community has seen a parade of celebrities come through. President Reagan and his wife, Nancy, stopped in for ice cream. Basketball star Shaquille O'Neal ate a hamburger in the cafe.

Chiriaco-Rushe wants to put in a motel and maybe an RV park. But for now she is savoring the present.

"I am sure Joe and Ruth are here with us today," she told a small crowd as she teared up.

At the outdoor chapel, the Rev. Jack Keefe offered a blessing.

"May this be a place where people can shelter a little and then move on feeling renewed," he said. "May they not only find shelter but a home."

[email protected]

Image
Father Jack Keefe, right, holds a prayer service to bless Chiriaco Summit on its 75th anniversary.

Image
Pleas Uhlhorn, 87, a retired Marine, attends the gathering marking the 75th anniversary of Chiriaco Summit .
Last edited by kikibalt on 24 Aug 2008, 14:08, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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kikibalt wrote:
Rick Farris wrote:
kikibalt wrote:Image
Orale!!!...... :wink:

Isn't that . . .??? Never mind, he's "in custody" this month. :TU:

-Ricardo

Rick, you must have been reading my mind.... :lol:
Gently guys . . . the insignia on the hat shows this guy is a Marine. Don't compare a Marine with you-know-who . . .
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Rick Farris wrote:
dagosd2000 wrote:
kikibalt wrote:Image
Aragon,Mantle,Andrade,the Solons. Anyone under 60 remember those names?


Yep! I'm 56, Frank. So that qualifies in the "under 60" catagory. :lol:

Rick
I'm 54. I remember those guys too!!
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Tom, you been alive as long as I been married.... :TU:
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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kikibalt wrote:In the Mojave, an oasis turns 75

Image
MEMORIAL: Margit Chiriaco-Rushe sits in front of the Altar of Heroes at the General Patton Memorial Museum at Chiriaco Summit along Interstate10 in Riverside County.
On Aug. 15, 1933, Joseph Chiriaco built a gas station on a two-lane highway in Riverside County. He and his wife raised a family there. Today, the outpost is a booming hamlet along Interstate 10.
By David Kelly, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer

CHIRIACO SUMMIT, CALIF. -- As desert rats go, few are hardier than the Chiriaco clan.

They came to this lonesome hilltop when it was little more than sand, scrub and venomous reptiles. Brooding mountains stared down from above while a handful of residents huddled in remote towns below.

Chiriaco Summit"My father always wanted to go into business for himself, and this was where he chose to do it," said Margit Chiriaco-Rushe.

And so Chiriaco Summit was born, a desolate outpost of howling winds and Spartan comforts, offering what founder Joseph Chiriaco said were "all the necessities and a few of the luxuries" of life. That meant gas, water, a hamburger and maybe a bed in a creaky cabin.

Yet times have changed.

What began as a rough-and-tumble gas station is now a community of some 60 full-time residents. And this month, the now-booming hamlet along Interstate 10 celebrated its 75th anniversary as a landmark way station for travelers heading through the Mojave Desert to Phoenix.

The old Chiriaco family home is now a post office. A modern Chevron station dispenses gas and organic coffee. The General Patton Memorial Museum is open, with an array of vintage tanks on display. There is a Vietnam Memorial Wall, a cafe, classic car garage, trailer park and even an airport.

"We have come through a lot of hard times here, some really lean times," said Chiriaco-Rushe, 70, sitting in a back booth of the coffee shop. "I don't think just anyone can live in the desert. It takes a certain person to see the beauty here."

Appreciating the desert is often an acquired taste, and there were times when she yearned for a change. She once moved to Bloomington, near Fontana.

"One of the reasons I came back is because my family needed me," said Chiriaco-Rushe, chief executive officer of the business. "I wanted to be an artist. I dreamed about maybe moving to New York, but I felt the pull to stay here. It really has been a wonderful life."

And one that has touched many others.

On Aug. 15, hundreds of travelers stopped by to congratulate Chiriaco-Rushe and her extended family on the anniversary.

"We go to the river a lot and always stop in for dinner or a malt," said Nancy Barnes, 77, of Riverside. "It's a unique place with a personal touch. There is a pull that makes you want to come in. I can't go by without stopping."

Judy Duff drove by without stopping for decades until learning that she shared the same birthday -- Aug. 15, 1933 -- with the summit. The retired Riverside nurse felt the story was too good to keep to herself, so she drove up to share it.

"I used to see this place all the time on the way to Phoenix, but I never went in," she said. "I thought it was fascinating that we shared the same birthday. I worried though, what if I got there and Margit wasn't there? Who would I tell? The cook?"

Chiriaco-Rushe circulated among the local dignitaries like the chieftain of a small kingdom. She hugged Riverside County Sheriff Stanley Sniff and posed under the cannon of a Sherman tank.

"Hurry up, I think I'm going to melt," she told a photographer as the sun beat down relentlessly.

The garrulous Huell Howser, host of KCET-TV Channel 28's "California's Gold," showed up with a camera crew and embraced her.

"Margit is a piece of history," he declared. "In a place like this, that seems so empty, you have two people who came out to find their dream. If that's not an example of California's gold, I don't know what is."

Chiriaco-Rushe smiled broadly, then ducked into a back room of the post office.

"This used to be our bedroom when we were kids," she said, standing in the narrow room now serving as her office. "We had four cots lined up in here. Each day we would take the school bus down to Indio."

Her father came from Alabama, working as a surveyor for the Los Angeles Bureau of Water and Power and then the Metropolitan Water District. His wife, Ruth, was a Minnesotan. They built their gas station along a two-lane highway about 30 miles east of Indio.

"My mom was a Norwegian blond, my dad was an Italian, and they both loved the desert," she said.

"We grew up without air conditioning in pretty crunched conditions. People out here made their houses from boxes and their fences from ocotillo sticks. But we had good values, and we were all straight-A students."

In 1942, Gen. George S. Patton came calling. He had chosen a site just a mile east of the summit as headquarters for an 18,000-square-mile training site designed to prepare soldiers for desert combat. When he died in 1945, the family erected a monument in his honor and donated the land where the museum now sits.

Joseph and Ruth Chiriaco died within months of each other in 1996. Their children took over and continue to run the summit, along with their children.

Many of the cooks, waitresses and clerks live in trailers behind the post office. Chiriaco-Rushe also lives on the property.

Over the years, the community has seen a parade of celebrities come through. President Reagan and his wife, Nancy, stopped in for ice cream. Basketball star Shaquille O'Neal ate a hamburger in the cafe.

Chiriaco-Rushe wants to put in a motel and maybe an RV park. But for now she is savoring the present.

"I am sure Joe and Ruth are here with us today," she told a small crowd as she teared up.

At the outdoor chapel, the Rev. Jack Keefe offered a blessing.

"May this be a place where people can shelter a little and then move on feeling renewed," he said. "May they not only find shelter but a home."

[email protected]

Image
Father Jack Keefe, right, holds a prayer service to bless Chiriaco Summit on its 75th anniversary.

Image
Pleas Uhlhorn, 87, a retired Marine, attends the gathering marking the 75th anniversary of Chiriaco Summit .

Yeah,the 3 post thing gots to be amended.
1. Rick,Randy,your kind words keep ,like Pug says,put the wind in my sails.
2. Frank,beautifull story. I like that Huell Howser guy. Travels in small areas of California doing good human interest stories.
3. Now to eat chips and homemade salsa and watch the Little League game. Let's come back to the Thread with a win.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Image
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by raylawpc »

kikibalt wrote:Tom, you been alive as long as I been married.... :TU:
1954 was a great year for us both!
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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raylawpc wrote:
kikibalt wrote:Tom, you been alive as long as I been married.... :TU:
1954 was a great year for us both!
Yes it was, you were born, I married Connie.... :TU: :TU:
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Image
Joe Miceli vs Maurice Harper
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Image
1952, Joey Maxim Training for Sugar Ray Robinson and Visited by Jersey Joe Walcott
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Leo Lomski and Tiger Flowers 1927
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Julio Cesar Chavez
Image
"Daddy"

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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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Photos by diego

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Caption by diego

You can take the girl off the rancho,but you can't take the rancho out of the girl
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

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A LITTLE LEAGUE

Frank informed me of the Little league World Series. Sounded like the plan. I got settled and turned on the TV. Well there was the pre game. Ok. Everything now a days has the pre game. Even these poker tournaments. OK,I'll watch the Little League World Series pre game show.
"Do you want to be a major league baseball player someday?"aked the interviewer.
"Sure. Why not?"said a heavy set kid wearing glasses.
The team from Hawaii was sprawled out on the grass.They were the team being interviewed.
"Are you getting used to the excitement?"
The big kid wearing glasses shrugged his shoulders.
"Yeah,it's getting a little boring."
"How's that?"asked the interviewer.
"Well all these people wanting your autograph. I get tired of it."
"Do you think major leagers get tired of it too."
"Yeah,"said the big kid with the glasses. "I wouldn't want to be signing autographs all the time either."
Another kid wanted to talk. He wore his cap on backward.
"I wouldn't ask a big leager for an autograph. They have more important things to do. They're real busy."
"Before being in the Little League World Series,who ever asked you for an autograph?"asked the interviewer.
The kid with the backwards cap laughed.
"My grandma asked me once."

No one interviewed the Mexican team. At least I didn't see it happen if it did. After the interview with the Hawaiian team all slouched around on the grass,I turned off the TV. I had an inspiration to paint Ezzard Charles.
Last edited by dagosd2000 on 24 Aug 2008, 23:48, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Expug »

Rick Farris wrote:
Expug wrote:Rick, thanks ahead of time for inquiring about Johnny Pretzie when you talk to Freddie Roach.
Theres another guy maybe you could ask Freddie about who was a real good amateur and had a few pro fights.
His name was John Shea.
He was another guy who was with Bulger , and wrote a book called "Rat Bastards".
He did ten years in the joint .
I'll write these names down, Brian. I tend to be forgetful lately. I like Freddie a lot, not because he is one of the "hot" trainers today, but because he is basicly a simple guy, who knows and loves boxing. We kind of hit it off, after Frankie Duarte told him I had sparred with his favorite fighter, Ruben Olivares. The walls of Freddie's gym are covered with boxing photos, posters, etc. Some are from when he and his brother Pep were kids, their late father, who was a boxer. Freddie said he grew up in the projects outside Southie. "Others kids had a swing set in their backyard, we had a boxing ring". Once in awhile Freddie's mother will stop by, usually on weekends when Roach occasionally puts on unofficial boxing matches, or smokers, in his ring. The other guys who are gym regulars are OK too. It's funny, just as the Main St. Gym had guys like Duke Holloway, Rip Roseboro, the Soto brothers, etc. Freddie's gym has it's own cast of charactors. These guys are a throw back to the era I loved so much, they like me and the feeling is mutual. From Freddie, I have learned quite a bit of the stuff I'd pick up when I was a part of boxing in L.A. I learn things you won't read about anywhere, the myths about what is really going on with certain people, not necessarily what he must avoid revealing to the public. Things about the late Eddie Futch, etc.

-Rick
Thanks alot Rick.Much appreciated.Those are some rough kids coming out of Southie.
They have turned out some other pros that I can think of off the top of my head,Kevin Watts and Joey Degrandis who fought here a couple times.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Rick Farris »

Gently guys . . . the insignia on the hat shows this guy is a Marine. Don't compare a Marine with you-know-who . . .[/quote]




Good eye, Pug. "You-know-who" was definitly not a Marine. No dress blues for this forum's resident eunic. SEMPER PHI! :TU:

-Rick
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Bobbin & Weavin »

Yeah,the 3 post thing gots to be amended.
1. Rick,Randy,your kind words keep ,like Pug says,put the wind in my sails.
2. Frank,beautifull story. I like that Huell Howser guy. Travels in small areas of California doing good human interest stories.
3. Now to eat chips and homemade salsa and watch the Little League game. Let's come back to the Thread with a win.[/quote]

A way around the 3 post thing is after you hit the quote button go to the top and delete the quote that has the least to do with what you are responding to; I'm guessing they do it that way so everything isn't repeated so many times. I think the first time I couldn't get my bit to posted becasue of the three quote thing it took me a half hour of frustration before I figured it out.

I'm just trying to keep you guys posting so I have more to read. I enjoy everything you guys are talking about especially my favorite topic, "Boxing". I'm 52 so i feel like I'm getting a chance to hang around the big brother I never had and his friends.
Here's to your health,
Bobbin & Weavin
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Randyman »

kikibalt wrote:Photos by diego

Image
Caption by diego

You can take the girl off the rancho,but you can't take the rancho out of the girl
Rog, that picture goes straight to my heart. I am a Chile head. I just picked up forty pounds of New Mexico Green Chile today, already roasted for me. Green Chile or Chile Verde is my "If I were stuck on an island " food. The hotter the better.

That picture makes me think of my grandma Mary, my mother's mother. She was one hell of a cook, Mexican food of course but she could cook anything. She had a couple of restaurants and bars in East L.A. She was not your typical grandmother. Of all her grandchildren, I was the one that had her heart, especially when it came to cooking. She loved to cook for me and then watch me eat. It didn't matter how much I ate or how stuffed I was, she would pile up more on my plate.

We always had ristras of red chiles or piles of green chilies laying around the house. I'm a fair cook myself too. My father who was originally from New Mexico would go back home and bring back gunny sacks filled with green chilies. If you've ever smelled the chilies roasting you know there's nothing quite like it. As I'm cooking the chile right now I'm thinking of him. Man, that picture and the chilies sure brought out a lot of feelings.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Randyman »

raylawpc wrote:
kikibalt wrote:Tom, you been alive as long as I been married.... :TU:
1954 was a great year for us both!
Hey guys, that's the year I was born too.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Expug »

Im born in 61.
I guess Im the youngster here.
Dont worry guys, The older the bull, the stiffer the horn. :wink:
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Randyman »

Expug wrote:Im born in 61.
I guess Im the youngster here.
Dont worry guys, The older the bull, the stiffer the horn. :wink:
That reminds me of the old joke about the young bull and the old bull.

Two bulls were on a hill overlooking the pasture and all the cows. the young bull, getting excited seeing all that prime beef wandering around says to the old bull "Hey, let's run down there and f*** one. "Uh uh" says the old timer, "Let's walk down and f*** them all!

There's something to be said about getting older. I expect Frank to cut in any minute and say "Will you kids shut and go to bed now!"

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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Expug »

Thats one of my favorite stories Randy.
In fact I just told it to a guy the other day.
He needed to hear it.Young guy, real confused.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by kikibalt »

Randyman wrote:
Expug wrote:Im born in 61.
I guess Im the youngster here.
Dont worry guys, The older the bull, the stiffer the horn. :wink:
That reminds me of the old joke about the young bull and the old bull.

Two bulls were on a hill overlooking the pasture and all the cows. the young bull, getting excited seeing all that prime beef wandering around says to the old bull "Hey, let's run down there and f*** one. "Uh uh" says the old timer, "Let's walk down and f*** them all!

There's something to be said about getting older. I expect Frank to cut in any minute and say "Will you kids shut and go to bed now!"

Randy
Randy,

I heard that joke over 50 years ago, but it still is a good one.

Puggys,

You're as old as my son Tony, he too was born in 1961.

I hope all you guys get to be as old as me, but remember one thing, there is no such thing as the "Golden Years", its more like the doctor years, because all you do is go see the doctor, you'll be getting pills for everything, a pill to go to sleep, a pill to wake up, a pill to piss, a pill to crap, a pill to get it up and a pill to get it down..... :roll:
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by Expug »

Yep Frank, I see Tony was born Feb 5 1961 .
I was born Jan 25 1961.
2001 was a bad year for both of us, but 1961 was a good one for both of us.
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Re: Classic American West Coast Boxing

Post by dagosd2000 »

LA MADRINA

"Tia,no quieres a ver tu Madrina?"
My nephew was going to drive us down the mountain back into Jiquilpan.He asked his aunt if she wanted to visit her Godmother before we left Paderones. We had stayed the day at my wife's cousin's rancho. They didn't know we were coming up to see them,but they were happy to see us. The women quickly made tacos made from potatos and tomatos with corn tortillas. This was covered with fresh "crema".
(the sweetest "crema" I'd ever tasted) and just picked chiles from the garden. We sat on the porch eating and talking and looking at pictures. The kids went down into the field riding horses. Late in the afternoon we got in the car to start downhill.
"Donde vive ella?"asked my wife.
My nephew said that her Godmother lived in the same house on top of the hill were she was born.The woman lived with her son and his family. My nephew turned onto a dirt road that was very bumpy .He drove slowly because he didn't want to break an axle or rip an oil pan. At the top of the hill at the end of the road we saw the little house.there were children playing outside.

I asked my wife how old her Godmother was.
"Mas que cien anos."
We piled out of the car. The children ran up to us grabbing and pulling on our clothes.I noticed that their faces were painted with what looked like lipstick. The children pulled us inside.

The first thing I noticed was the dirt floor. It was only one room with 3 beds against its own walls. A table with some chairs. A cupboard.
"Donde esta mi Madrina?"asked my wife to the children. They ran laughing outside. They looked wild,even a little scary with their faces painted like that. In a few moments they brought in my wife's Godmother by the the arm. She was smiling . I could see that she still had her teeth. Wrapped around her tiny body was a blue shawl.Her face was wrinkled,but her smile and eyes very alert ,and her searching us with her eyes made her appear younger.
"Madrina,como estas?"asked my wife.
"Bien .Bien. Sientete."
My wife and the old woman embraced. The woman broke from the hug still smiling. Her eyes scrutinizing my wife's face and then looking at us. She was putting things together in her mind.
"La pintura,"the old woman said."Los ninos."
Evidently the children had gotten a hold of her son's wifes lipstick and smeared it all over themselves. The old woman didn't seem upset by this. We sat down around her. She said her son had driven down to Jiquilpan to buy a pair of work boots.
"Tienes hambre?" asked the old woman
We said that we'd eaten. My wife's Godmother said she was hungry. My wife asked her what she wanted to eat. She wanted a toirtilla with salt and chile. My wife heated the tortilla on the "lena",put a finger full of rock salt on it,then some small red chiles. The small round red ones that are hard and very hot. The old woman didn't want anything to drink.

After a half hour or so,without much said,we said we must be going. All the time the old woman was smiling. One of my nieces came inside with a small bag of Cheetos. She offered the bag to my wife's Godmother. She picked a Cheeto and put in her mouth. She chewed the Cheeto slowly.
"Que sabrosa."said the old woman.

Before leaving ,my wife asked her if she was in any pain. The old woman laughed. The only pain she had ,she said, was hunger pains. Night was coming on the mountain. I heard the thunder. It was going to rain like it usually does at that time of the night. I thought about that old woman living in that house,that way,eating the same way,never going too far,for over 100 years. She didn't know when her birthday was or how old she was exactly. She had her son and his family to live with. The Church were she was baptised was around the other side of the hill. The garden in the back was full wth corn. The children made her happy. She didn't worry about dying. As long as she had an appetite she knew she knew she was all right. .
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