A Root Awakening: An Autobiography

By Ramon L. Quezada

A Root Awakening is an autobiographical about me the author. The book is about familys history and my early years being raised during the Second World War. Living in Detroit my family was well removed from our relatives who were still living in Mexico. Growing up I was always curious about those mysterious relatives. However, due to some unusual circumstances and as I got older I realized that I might be able to go down and meet those relatives. The book is about the trip that I made on my own in 1954.

One of my ambitions was to ride up in the mountains and that is my story and how I was able to accomplish that mission. There are many small adventures that took place before my journey into the hills. It was me and my new found cousins who rode up into the mountains with a guide. Consequently, I was able to fulfill my dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483685595

Ramon L. Quezada

My name is Ramon Quezada and I am a Mexican-American born on August 18, 1934 in Detroit, Michigan. Both my parents Miguel and Luisa Quezada emigrated from Mexico into the United States in 1915. My mother died when I was two years old and then a grandaunt, her husband and son moved in with us to help my father raise my sister, my three brothers and I. Much of my early years were during the Second World War. I attended grade and high school in Detroit. I was active in high school playing football, running track, singing in the choir and acting in school plays. After high school I worked for a stockbrokerage firm. I married had one child and was divorced a few years later. The stockbrokerage firm eventually transferred me to New York City where I worked on Wall Street for the rest of my career. I am now a senior citizen semi-retired and do modeling, write and do television whenever I can. I now live in Brooklyn.

Book preview

A Root Awakening

Ramon L. Quezada

Copyright © 2013 by Ramon L. Quezada.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4836-8558-8

                 Ebook            978-1-4836-8559-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 08/19/2013

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Contents

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Acknowledgements

Forward

Chapter One   Family History

Chapter Two   A Childhood Tale

Chapter Three   More Early Years

Chapter Four   Still Growing Up

Chapter Five   Heading Out

Chapter Six   Mexcio City

Chapter Seven   The Wrestler

Chapter Eight   Durango

Chapter Nine   The Real Awakening

Chapter Ten   Discovering The Past

Chapter Eleven   A Left-Handed Proposal

Chapter Twelve   Preparations

Chapter Thirteen   Widowsville

Chapter Fourteen   Mountain Time

Chapter Fifteen   Where Eagles Fly

Chapter Sixteen   Time To Move On

Chapter Seventeen   Los Angeles

Chapter Eighteen   Home

Epilogue

OTHER BOOKS

Strictly A Family Matter

DEDICATED TO MY FAMILY

AND

TO HONOR THOSE FAMILY MEMBERS

WHO SERVED IN WORLD WAR II

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to my old family friend Armando Arce, my good friends Cindi O. Armstrong and to Ed and Claire Bomer. I also wish to thank my niece Marta Bozymowski and her son Paul Bozymowski Jr. A special thanks goes to my California cousins the late Victor Jacques and his sister Charlotte Romero. More thanks to my brother Carlos Quezada and my nephew Paul Quesada and Paul’s mother Barbara Quesada. Others are Robert Hansen, Katherine Lytle, Kevin Lynch, Susan Hoeft, Patty McCarthy, Regina Rockensies and to my boyhood buddy Tony Wisniewski. A very special show of gratitude goes to Alice Martin who devoted a great deal of her time and talent to review my original material.

Forward

When I was a boy, I often dreamt of riding horseback on high mountain trails in Mexico

As an adult, I learned that we are never given a dream without also being given the means by which to realize that dream.

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Chapter One

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FAMILY HISTORY

In the summer of 1954, I decided to take a road trip from Detroit, Michigan, my hometown, all the way into the heartland of Mexico. I was nineteen years old going on twenty, and I would be going alone. It would be my first visit to the homeland of my parents. My travel experiences up until that time were limited to short trips to places not far from where I grew up. One of those places was a small community on the shores of Lake Erie. Another was to a farm in Ontario, Canada just across the Detroit River. It was obvious that I had much to learn about traveling. What motivated me to embark on this extraordinary adventure and what transpired during the course of that journey is my story.

It all began some years before I was even born, when in the early 1900’s, Mexico was in the process of preparing for a revolutionary war. The war was being waged by a poor and oppressed population. The country had been ruled by a tyrannical president named Profirdio Diaz for over thirty years. During that period the majority of the people were mistreated peasants who worked for almost nothing for wealthy Spanish hacienda (plantation landowners) owners. However, it was now time for the people to rise-up and to overthrow the cruel and oppressive government. The revolt was being lead by a man whose name was Francisco Madero. The generals under his command were Pascual Orozco, Venustiano Carranza, plus Pancho Villa and others. In the south General Emiliano Zapata was also assembling a large cadre of fighting men. They were recruiting men and gathering horses from all over the country. It was their mission to recruit and establish armies large enough and capable enough for a victory. It was an ambition undertaking but Don Madero felt that winning was within their grasp.

When the war began in 1910, it forced thousands of Mexican citizens to begin fleeing the country in order to escape the ravages of the conflict. Entire families uprooted themselves from their homes and headed north to the northern border. Most were disappointed that there was no victory in sight. This was when in 1915 my parent’s, Miguel Quezada and my mother Luisa, who were not married at the time, decided to leave their homes in the State of Durango and leave their country.

The person who prompted my father to leave was his first cousin Jesus Saracho (Chuchu). Jesus was a colonel in Pancho Villa’s army. Colonel Saracho was responsible for helping to coordinate the movement of troops and supplies on the railroad. This also gave him the authority to help orchestrate the evacuation of civilians. It was during this time that civilian refugee trains were in need of armed male civilian escorts or guards and so Colonel Saracho recruited my father Miguel, along with a number of other relatives and friends. It was a seven hundred mile train trip to the border and the male escorts would be needed to help protect the passengers from the banditos who they would no doubt encounter along the way. This might happen when the train had to layover on a side track in the evening hours when the main rail-line is used by the military to transport troops and supplies. It would be during this layover period that the passengers would be vulnerable to attacks. The bandidos in those areas of the desert knew that the passengers aboard these trains were carrying both money and valuables. This was when the bandidos would take advantage of this situation and ride up to the train with the intentions of robbing the passengers. This is when the armed male escorts, like Miguel would be needed to help to defend the passengers.

Miguel was a twenty-three year old carpenter who worked in silver mine. The mine was located in the small town of San Lucas Ocampo in the northern State of Durango. The mine had been shut down due to the war and so Miguel was in a position to honor Jesus’ request. A number of other male relatives and friends were also recruited.

One of the passengers that would be traveling aboard the train that Miguel was going to be escorting was Colonel Saracho’s wife, Refugio (Cuca) with her new born son Ramon. Accompanying Cuca was her niece, my mother, Luisa Reyes. Luisa was only fifteen years of age. She had been a school teacher in a small village known as La Sauceda in the State of Durango. Although Miguel and Luisa had briefly known one another in their early years they were not romantically involved at this time.

Before boarding the train, Cuca said goodbye to her parents and her brothers and sisters. She also embraced her sister Julia, who was Luisa’s mother. Their eyes filled with tears and their hearts were filled with their prayers and the hope for the future.

Luisa also said goodbye to her parents with tears being shed by everyone. She also embraced her two older sisters Maria and Maria Guadalupe (Lupe). She then embraced her four younger sisters Carmen, Cleofas, Elvira and Amparo. They were greatly devoted to one another and so they were extremely sadden to see Luisa leave them. There was also the hope that they would be reunited one day soon.

At the same time, Miguel embraced his parents and then his two younger brothers Pedro and Jose Guadalupe (Lupe). They promised to follow as soon as they got older.

The train was loaded with relatives and friends plus many others. Jesus told them that it would be a two-day journey to the border town of Ciudad Juarez. They would be traveling through the State of Chihuahua (the largest state in Mexico). The evening’s layover on the sidetrack would be in the desert. At night the desert is cool, but in mid June it is very hot during the day. It was late in the afternoon when the train stopped on the side rack. There was no town located there just a watering tower. The passengers were allowed to debark from the train but only for a few moments. This was when the bandidos decided to strike. They arrived riding out of the hills firing their pistols in the air. The passengers had to hurry to get back inside the train. The escorts prepared themselves to meet the attack. Miguel stood near an open window ready to fire his rifle at any of the fast moving targets that rode by. But as soon as the bandidos attempted to board the train the escorts sprang into action and began opening fire. Bullets began whizzing overhead in all directions and ricocheting off the train. After several minutes the bandidos were driven off by the heavy concentration of gunfire from the escorts. At least one of the bandidos was shot and one wounded, but all the passengers, like Cuca, the baby and Luisa who huddled on the floor remained untouched. Neither were any of the escorts injured. There were no further incidents and the train arrived safely in Ciudad Juarez.

It was during those war years (1910-1920) that there was a mass migration of refuges leaving Mexico. Many of the refugees including members of our own family temporarily settled in El Paso to await the outcome of the war in Mexico. However, some relatives decided not to wait and headed for California and Los Angeles. Miguel, Luisa and Cuca remained in El Paso and it was there where they deepened their relationship. It was also at this time that Uncle Jesus (Chuchu), and another cousin named Willy (Guillermo Lopez) also arrived in El Paso to join the rest of the family. These were men who were not going to sit around and wait for the outcome of the war and so they began to seek employment. Soon they were working on the railroad laying railroad tracks. They eventually worked their way east, and in 1917 when the United States entered into the First World War against Germany, they were contracted to help build barracks at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. A year or two later they were hired to work on the factories in Flint, Michigan. It wasn’t until the year 1920 that they found their way to Detroit, and it was there that they decided to establish the Saracho-Quezada construction business.

Sometime in 1920 the war ended in Mexico, or it should be said that the fighting stopped. The revolutionist had won the initial battle and had defeated the Porfido Diaz regime early in the campaign. There were many battles with many men dying over the course of the conflict. Unfortunately, shortly after the initial victory in 1913, Don Francisco Madero was assassinated by one of his military cabinet members. For the next seven years the victorious generals began to battle amongst themselves for leadership. The man who eventually became president after all the fighting had ended was a general by the name of Alvaro Obregon.

It was at this time that Cuca left El Paso and traveled to Detroit to be with Jesus. Luisa returned to her home in Durango to be with her family and her teaching career. It wasn’t until April of 1925 when Miguel arrived in Durango in order to marry Luisa. The wedding was held in Luisa’s home village of La Sauceda. La Sauceda had been a well-established Spanish Hacienda before the revolution. In fact, there was a large abandoned two-story high Hacienda which had been the elegant home of the landowners still dominated the center of the village. It was a silent monument to a pre-revolutionary way of life. The reason that the landowners, the Lopez-Negrete family, had to flee to Mexico City during the revolution was in order not to be killed by the revolutionary soldiers.

The wedding took place in the church of San Geronimo on June 10, 1925 and the reception was held directly across the street in the large courtyard of Luisa’s parents’, Senor Luis and Senora Julia Reyes. There was music, dancing and lots of laugher. However, not long after reception Miguel and Luisa would be taking a late afternoon train from the train station just a few times down the road in the town of Canatlan. Once again they would be leaving their families and the usual shedding of tears and embraces. However, this time there were others who would accompany them. The train headed towards to the City of Durango, the state capital. Then it made its way north to the border and El Paso. From there they made their way to Michigan.

Like most young couples Miguel and Luisa had dreams of raising a family. Prior to their first child being born they purchased a house on Trenton Street on the west side of Detroit. Their first child was Mike (Miguel) and he was born in 1926. Two years later Carlos was born in 1928. A year after that in 1929 my sister Goni (Elena); she was born on June 5th which on the Spanish religious calendar is Saint Boniface’s Day. But somehow her saint’s day name became feminized to Goniface and that is how she ended up with the nickname Goni. During that same year 1929, the depression began, and this is when the Saracho-Quezada construction company went out of business. People could no longer afford to purchase homes and so their business was no longer able to operate. Jesus found work in one of the factories that built automobile parts and Miguel continued working as an independent contractor.

On June 1, 1930, Miguel and Luisa gave birth to a son named Roman. June 1st happens to be Saint Paniflo’s day on that Spanish religious calendar and so he was nicknamed Panfi. Many Spanish speaking families make it a custom to nickname their children after a saint if it is deemed appropriate to them. My parents weren’t thinking of a saint when I was born, and I was named after my cousin Ramon (Ray). That was on August 18, 1934. I was to be their last child.

Unfortunately for our family on October 31, 1936 the dreams of our family were shattered when our mother Maria Luisa died of tuberculosis. I was only two years old. This was when Uncle Jesus (Chuchu), Aunt Cuca and cousin Ramon (Ray) moved into our home to help take care of our family.

Chapter Two

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A CHILDHOOD TALE

I was five years old when in the fall of 1939 I started going to the O. W. Holmes Grade School. My brother Mike who was in the eighth grade and already six foot escorted me to school. Because of his height and in order for me to keep up, I found myself having to run beside him. School was a little more than a half mile away and we had to cross two main thoroughfares, one was McGraw Avenue and the other Michigan Avenue. Streetcars ran along Michigan Avenue and there was always lots of traffic. Safety patrol boys were stationed at the corners of each of these main intersections. In the kindergarten class I meet other children who I would be spending the rest of my grade school years with. They were all of varied ethnicities, but the Quezadas were the only Mexican-American family attending the school.

In 1941 the United States was drawn into the Second World War against both Germany and Japan. I was seven years old at the time and we were all saddened over these worldly events. Our entire community rose to the occasion and became preoccupied with the war effort. The automobile factories where our neighbors worked stopped making automobiles and began building war materials. They even increased their production from two working shifts to three. Even some of the housewives and mothers began working at the factories. They were called Rosie the Riveters. Some of those factories, like the Ford Motor factories in Dearborn and the DeSoto plants were not far from my home. The country began to ration grocery products including gas. At school my classmates and I participated in paper and scrap metal drives. We even practiced having air raids. This meant going out into the hallway and sitting on the floor with our backs against the wall. The teacher would then instruct us to pull up our knees, cross our arms and place our elbows on our knees. We remained in the hunched position until we received the all clear signal from the teacher. We even had air raid warnings in the evening when a siren would sound from somewhere in the distance. Each home was then required to turn off their lights and remain in the dark. Air raid wardens would come around to make certain everyone was complying with the warning. I often wondered if we could ever be bombed. Since Detroit was a large industrial center making war materials, we were a prime target. About twenty miles west of our home was the B-24 Willow Run liberator bomber assembly plant. Sometimes on a hot summer evening we could the fain roar of the Pratt and Whitney bomber engines being tested. There may have been hundreds of engines being tested at one time.

Out beyond the playground fence was an extremely large field. In that field Chrysler Car Company had built a tank testing track. Each day we could observe and hear the engines of the Army’s medium-size Sherman tanks being tested. It was a large oval track that went back as far as the railroad tracks on the far end. During our breaks or before school, my friends and I would head over to the testing track and begin throwing stones at the tanks whenever they passed near the fence. It was our way of helping them to test the tanks resilience to stones being thrown at them. Psychologically it made us feel as though we were contributing to the war effort. There were times when one of the tank test drivers would bring his tank up along side the fence and open the hatch. We could then climb up onto the fence and look down inside the tank which was all white inside. It was quite an experience for us. The testing track was visible from the school’s library window and