A Man's Gotta Do What A Man's Gotta Do

By Alex Martinez

The life story about a 2012 Presidential Election Republican hopeful. His story, his views, his words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex Martinez
• Release date: Oct 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9780984011414

Alex Martinez

Native Texan Vietnam Veteran Retired Telephone Technician

Book preview

A MAN’S GOTTA DO

WHAT A MAN’S GOTTA DO

Alexander H. Martinez

Copyright 2011 Alexander H. Martinez

Smashword Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical. This includes photocopying or recording by any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

ISBN Number: 978-0-9840114-1-4

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011939275

w w w . a l e x m a r t i n e z 2 0 1 2 . c o m

Gotta Do Publishing

Houston, TX

2011

Project Coordinator — Rita Mills

www.bookconnectiononline.com

Editorial Team

Peggy Sue Skipper, Development & Shirin Wright, Grammar

Cover Design — Rebeca Eigen

Text Design — Rita Mills

Cover Photograph — Pat Buron

Dedication

To American patriots everywhere: May we succeed in putting a halt to America’s decline.

To Glenn Beck who I consider a founding father in his own right. His courage and motivation was instrumental in giving me the courage to run for president.

To Rush Limbaugh for providing listeners like me a fundamental understanding of the issues of the day.

To my little sister Elizabeth who unknowingly gave me the idea to run for president.

With very special thanks to my beautiful wife, Mary, for believing in me. Her support and encouragement is what made all the difference.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1 Making It to America

Chapter 2 Life After Graduation

Chapter 3 Sunny Vietnam

Chapter 4 Back in the States

Chapter 5 Married Life

Chapter 6 Transition

Chapter 7 Working for the Union

Chapter 8 The Next Phase

Chapter 9 The Bell System Breakup

Chapter 10 Getting Back to Business

Chapter 11 The Start of a New Decade

Chapter 12 New Opportunity

Chapter 13 Making the Best of Things

Chapter 14 An Uphill Climb

Chapter 15 A Raw Deal

Chapter 16 Love Takes Another Step

Chapter 17 Good Times and Bad Times

Chapter 18 Another Sad Start to a New Year

Chapter 19 Grandchild Number Four and First Wife

Chapter 20 Sally

Chapter 21 Calmer Times

Chapter 22 The Idea to Run

Letters of Expression

My Social & Political Views

My Plan for America

Endnotes

Introduction

Hello, my name is Alexander H. Martinez and, with your help, I will become the 45th President of the United States of America.

That’s a mighty big statement coming from an unknown individual a little more than a year before the election. That’s why I need your help. If you have read this far, then you know there is something I have to do.

I believe our country is in serious trouble. Make no mistake about it; there is an extremely powerful force within our government that is trying to destroy America. The current President of the United States, the occupier of the most powerful office in the world, is the leader of a band of marauders that is systematically undermining and attempting to overthrow our system of government. I can’t stand idly by and let that happen.

I feel it is imperative that this president does not get a second term. It would be disastrous for America if he did. Someone needs to run against him who has a strong enough appeal to win the next election. I don’t believe anyone in the current group of declared candidates has what it will take.

I don’t have it either…yet. That’s why I wrote this book. It’s my life story of who I am and what I am. As you read it you will learn how I came to this decision and why. Included is a section on my political and social beliefs, what I would like to do as president, and what I stand for and against.

I invite you to come with me on this journey for self-preservation, prosperity, and freedom.

Respectfully and sincerely,

Alexander H. Martinez

CHAPTER 1

Making It to America

Before I get into the details of my family reaching America, I think I should provide a small amount of background information regarding my parents.

I’ll begin with my father, Anibal Martinez Jimenez, born in Santiago, Chile, South America, in 1896. His dad was from Spain and his mom was from Italy. Why and when they migrated to Chile is unknown. At age eighteen, my father entered the Catholic University of Chile, from where he graduated as a civil engineer. As the story goes, dad was a restless nomad. After graduating from college, he left home to seek his fortune. I often wonder if he knew he would never return to his homeland.

Around 1918, Dad’s adventures brought him to the island of Cuba. While there, he became a professor at the University of Havana, teaching mathematics. After that ran its course, he traveled to the United States and worked at different jobs. Two jobs that I know of were with Westinghouse Electric & Manufacturing Company, and with Electrolux. While on vacation in Monterrey, Mexico, he met his future wife, my mom, Aurora Martinez.

Mom was born in Monterrey, Mexico in 1911. She belonged to a comfortable, middle-class family ruled by her very strict father. She was the oldest of seven children (four girls and three boys). Her life centered around her sisters and mother because of her very protective father and brothers. Anyone wanting to call on her had to go through them. When Anibal was given the approval to court Aurora, the courtship resulted in their eventual marriage in 1936. Monterrey was where they made their home.

In due course, Laura, Carlos (Charles), Irma, and Miguel (Mike) were born. During this time, Dad had been traveling to the U.S. to prepare for immigration and in 1949 he moved his family to Houston, Texas. Dad got a job with Grogan Lumber Company, which still operates from its original location in the Heights. Meanwhile, the family was adjusting to a new country and a new language. No one except my dad could speak any English. Before too long, my brothers and sisters were enrolled in school and making friends. Learning English was not so hard, and from what they told me about those early days, they liked their new lives. Speaking of new lives…in April 1950, I was born.

During the 40s and early 50s, Grogan Lumber Company also built homes. Since my father was working there, he was able to buy one of the new homes. We were the first Mexican family to move into this particular Heights neighborhood. Not long after settling into our new home, my little sister Elizabeth was born. She was also an April baby and we were barely a year apart.

Things seemed to be going pretty well for the Martinez family until about 1954. That’s when the bottom fell out.

Coping with Adversity

It was late summer in 1954 when, under the cover of darkness, my dad decided he had to leave. He had made some bad business decisions during these first few years and, apparently, he didn’t have the courage to stay and deal with them. He left a wife and six kids without any money and he was behind on the mortgage. Our family was devastated! I was way too young to really know what was going on, but I knew something had happened.

This type of event, when you have been abandoned by the family’s patriarch, its only bread winner, can and will change your life. What would we do now? Go back to Mexico? Why not? One of our uncles, Uncle Raul, had made Mom an offer that was very tempting. Things were going very well for him in Mexico and he invited us back. He offered to take care of us. His offer actually made it much more difficult for my mom to make a decision about whether to stay. It would have been so easy to go there and be with family who could help us until we got back on our feet. My oldest brother, Charles, remembers discussing the possibility with our mom, but his vote was to stay here…he liked it here. After giving it some real careful consideration, my mom came to the gut-wrenching decision to stay in America.

It wasn’t long before our situation became known to our friends and neighbors. Many came forward and offered to help. All Saints Catholic Church, where my siblings were going to school, began dropping off bags of groceries and clothes. The church even waived the tuition fees so my siblings could remain in school. Meanwhile, a state welfare representative had come to the house and enrolled us into an assistance program. We were getting the help we needed, but these were only short-term solutions; something more permanent had to take place. We needed some steady income of our own.

About this time, Mr. Zanelli, a friend of my dad, came over and asked Charles if he wanted a job. Charles was sixteen at the time but knew the answer was yes. Mr. Zanelli put Charles in touch with a Mr. Newhouse, owner of South Ports Forwarding Company. Mr. Newhouse offered Charles a messenger’s job for $25 a week. In 1954 there were no faxes or e-mail, so there was a real need for messengers to deliver documents to the different businesses in town. But before Mr. Newhouse would hire Charles, Charles had to agree to go to night school and get his diploma. All school-related expenses would be paid; he just had to agree to go to school and graduate. Charles accepted the terms and went to work. I wouldn’t know until years later that he was the second person in my life to show me an example of what it’s like when a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. He sacrificed his young adult life for all of us. He did what he had to do. He took responsibility.

The next order of business was to see about staying in our home. Since there was some steady income now to add to what Mom was making from ironing at home, she asked for a meeting with the mortgagor to see if he would lower the mortgage payments to a level she could afford. If he would do this, she could assure him he would get his money, that she would make the payments on time. Convinced his investment was safe, the mortgagor agreed. This was a tremendous relief for my mom and she couldn’t thank God enough. She knew we were in a good place, with good neighbors and good schools. Getting a chance to stay in our home was a huge blessing for all of us.

Things seemed to settle down some and my oldest sister, Laura, was able to graduate from high school a short time later. She only had a year and a half to finish high school and soon after graduation, she got a job with the State Welfare Office, working as a typist. She too sacrificed her life for all of us by refusing to get married so she could stay and contribute. This was another example for me to learn from. Now our family had two steady incomes. We were making it work. We would come home from school and Mom would wash our clothes so we could wear them again the next day. God took care of us, we were doing all right.

As we got a little older, my brother Mike and I would canvass the neighborhood for yard work. We would take our lawnmower and rake. Since I was younger and smaller, he would have me go to the door and ask for the job. He thought we would stand a better chance of getting hired that way. It seemed to work for us and we were able to do our part in contributing to the household budget. This went on for several years until Mike was able to get a job at an ice-cream parlor; then I was on my own.

My School Years

Elementary

Since my sister and I were just over a year apart, the school administrator placed her in kindergarten and me in first grade. I can remember both of us crying on that first day of school as we waved goodbye to Mom while the teachers took us to our respective classrooms. Elizabeth and I had never really been apart, and certainly not away from Mom, so it was a little traumatic for us that day. We adjusted just fine once we realized it was only for a few hours a day and that we would get to see our mom again.

I don’t remember much about the first through the third grade except for my teachers and some areas of the school. The fourth grade did produce some long-lasting memories, though. It was right about then that I started to realize how some people could be friendly and others could be mean. It was the mean ones that made the biggest impression on me. These were the guys and girls in the in crowd, and some guys that were just plain bullies. Then there were those that didn’t like Mexicans. Being a Mexican, I found out, had its drawbacks.

I remember feeling inferior to most of my classmates because I was different and I didn’t dress like them. We didn’t have the latest in clothes or a lot of them, and you could see we wore our shoes a long time. We didn’t eat pancakes and waffles for breakfast; we had eggs, beans, and tortillas and we spoke Spanish at home. The only thing that did make me feel good was to be around others who treated me well. That was the easy part, but how was I going to deal with the other kids who didn’t like me? I couldn’t go ask my dad for advice, he was A.W.O.L. I hardly ever saw my oldest brother, Charles, because he was either working or going to school, and my other brother, Mike, had his own issues to deal with. Mom was a girl and she wouldn’t know about this sort of stuff. It seemed like we were all kind of going in our own directions, too preoccupied with our own lives. No, this was something I was going to have to figure out on my own.

I was fortunate to have some neat kids on my block that I got along with. We would get together and play after school and just have fun. A couple of these kids were a little bigger, and sometimes we would get into wrestling matches. Even though these guys could pin us down easily and keep us there, they weren’t the mean sort, they never really hurt us. It turned out to be a blessing for me because it made me stronger and I learned a few things about hand-to-hand. As we all got older, the bullying at school became more prevalent and I decided it had to stop. There was this one guy who never seemed to give it a rest, and he got a big kick out of being a loud mouth. His friends would laugh and egg him on. I decided that I was going to have to face this guy to get him off my back. One day after school, it happened. He said something, then I said something and the next thing I knew, he was on the ground and I had his arm behind his back, and I was telling him to say Uncle. Some of his friends were there and saw this, and when he said Uncle, that changed everything. I got some respect that day for myself. Yes, I got respect from those other schoolmates as well. Even though they still didn’t like me; they left me alone after that. What this did for me was immeasurable. Standing up for myself was a lesson I would never forget. It taught me there are times when you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. It also gave me a total dislike for bullies, and to this day, I can’t stand a bully!

Junior High

By the time I made it to junior high school, things had changed at home. Charles had graduated from night school and had earned some promotions at work. One of these promotions required him to transfer to Dallas. When he announced that he was moving, Mom was devastated. She had grown to rely on him so much in the past decade. But she knew she had to accept it—he had done his part, and now it was time for him to spread his wings and fly. The rest of us would have to step up to fill the gap, not an easy thing to do. We were proud of our brother and wished him well. Charles went on to be a very innovative and successful entrepreneur in the freight-forwarding business.

I was lucky enough to have had a good nucleus of friends in junior high. There were about seven of us who stuck together most of the time. I still keep in touch regularly with four of them. We just had a blast during those years. We were old enough to have some independence, yet young enough to not have too many responsibilities.

Remember me telling you we were all kind of going in our own directions? Well, it wasn’t until junior high that I found out what brother Mike had been up to. He was quietly building a reputation as an intimidating lineman on the football team. He was three years ahead of me, so by the time I got to junior high, he was entering senior high. He had already made All-District and All-City honors, and he had given the Martinez name some recognition.

This name recognition trickled down to me and little sister Elizabeth. When people heard my name they would ask if I was Mike Martinez’s brother. This seemed to impress them, which made me feel good. It also provided us some measure of protection. Nobody wanted to mess with Mike Martinez. At the same time, it put pressure on me to live up to the reputation he had developed. I was a scrawny kid, not big and strong like Mike. How was I going to follow that act? The only answer I could come up with was I would have to try out for the football team.

In junior high, I ended up making the junior varsity and varsity teams, but as a second stringer. I got my nose broken a couple of times and had my bell rung too. These kinds of things made it harder to love the game. But I was determined to stick it out, for I was a Martinez. It wasn’t until my varsity year that I was able to break into the starting kick-off and return teams. This helped my self-esteem and gave me some much needed confidence.

Easy come, easy go. My confidence suffered a setback when it came time for the school’s football banquet. The coaches said we could bring a date or come alone, either way was fine. Someone asked what the dress code would be and the coach said casual. When I heard that, I was relieved because I didn’t have a suit. A few days went by and it seemed like a bunch of guys were going to bring a date. Where did that leave me? I had never been on a date. I didn’t even have a girlfriend. Who could I even ask? After struggling with this for a while, I decided I would take a chance and ask this girl to the banquet.

Her name was Brenda and I had had a crush on her since the sixth grade. She was really pretty. To my complete surprise, she accepted! Wow! I had a date! But whoa, how was I going to get her there—on my bike? I thought maybe brother Mike could take us in the family car. I was able to get approval from Mom, and Mike agreed to chaperone, so I was set. Now all I had to do was get my clothes. The coach said casual, right? Well, Mom gave me some money to go and buy a new pair of jeans and a nice shirt. I was ready. Banquet night arrived and we went to pick up Brenda. She looked beautiful in her very pretty dress and I remember her mom pinning on the corsage that I brought for her.

So, off to the school cafeteria we went. When we got there and went inside, I experienced the biggest embarrassment of my life. Every one of my teammates was wearing a suit. I felt like a stupid, poor Mexican kid, and I wanted to just turn around and leave, but I couldn’t. What about Brenda? It must have been equally embarrassing for her! There was nothing I could do but just take it. That was the longest night of my life and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I’ve got to hand it to Brenda, though, she was a perfect lady to me that night and she never said a word about it after that. I never had the courage to ask her out again, so that was the end of our courtship. This was one of those life lessons that I never forgot. It taught me the importance of being properly dressed for the occasion.

Since I wasn’t much good in the dating department, I hung out with my friends a lot. Sometime in my last year of junior high, my friends and I were walking home one night from the Heights Theater, and trouble came looking for us. As we were walking on the sidewalk, a car went by and someone hollered out, Queer! As a reflex reaction, my friend Sam hollered back, Whore! We all laughed and just kept on going. Before we had walked another block,