Despite these interesting measures taken to quiet the young parrot, Lulu survived the trip to San Francisco and lived for many years. While Lulu was a family pet, the bird seemed to develop the strongest relationship with Abuelito.
Tribute
1 Mom loved her beer and her San Francisco Giants. We enjoyed many a hot summer afternoon during backyard BBQs with ice cold beer. I took Mom to the Santa Clara County Fair one warm July. We drank beer, ate linguica sandwiches and overly-cooked corn on the cob slathered in too much butter and coated with a lot of salt.
Remembering La Nena and Me
Grandma Maria Moreno bundled him and his youngest siblings and set off to a part of the Arizona desert where she would seek direction from God and Tio Tito would begin his guitar lessons on the nearest broom. Over time that old broom would be replaced with a Gibson guitar and many, many more.
Tio Tito (August 5, 1949 – July 22, 2020)
3 The Great Harlingen Migration, for which Blas Ventura was a prominent and important figure, will never be documented in any history textbook. But those who came to the Bay Area, because of Blas Ventura’s efforts, and prospered in their new lives, owe him much and should remember Blas Ventura fondly and keep him in their hearts.
The Architect of the Great Harlingen Migration
3 My mother, Manuela Huerta de Matute, was born of poor Mexican immigrant parents in 1913. Her father, Albino Huerta, had been recruited from Mezquital del Oro, a very small town in Zacatecas, Mexico, to help build the railroads as part of the economic expansion of the American Southwest. He […]
My mother, Manuela Huerta de Matute
1 Nana’s house was my sanctuary and a sea filled with many loving memories. Her roses in the backyard gave life to the hummingbirds who would stop by and the blackberry tree gave all the grandchildren a mountain to climb.
345 Wooster Avenue
What is grand is to be able to earn our bread by the sweat of our brow. Remember yes, you can.
Fighting For A Better Future
1 To talk about my history, it’s easy to assume that it starts with me. However, I didn’t make myself so my history starts with my parents.
Del Bajío a la Bahía
She was strong, often silent, cold to caresses. Our home interaction with her was about working at the house, and on Sundays she rewarded me and my 8 brothers with handmade tortillas and salsa from the molcajete. What a joy it was when she was home!
Her
She, my mother, knew that mothers cannot do it on their own; that they need to form armies of shared parenting; that love has to be shared between the children of the earth; and that love we share is involved in the care of every human being.