1 25 23 https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/burrola_ruiz_nmah012_788c3b58fb.mp3 9eb955df22c74f448a9f76aa77c84e47 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Acosta, Anais Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Burrola Ruiz, Hipólito Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 35:39 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k Time Summary A summary of an interview given for different time stamps throughout the interview [Mins 0:00-3:08; Introduction] Hipólito Burrola Ruíz was born on November 25, 1936 in Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México on a ranch named El Aguaje which is located on the eastern side of the Ejido la Haciendita neighborhood. His father worked in agriculture and his mother stayed at home. He is one of fourteen children. He speaks about his grandparents’ nomadic agricultural practices. Hipólito has six children and many grandchildren. [Mins 3:09-6:50; Early Life] Hipólito recounts two scenes from his childhood that he remembers. He began helping his uncles in the field when he was seven years old. He would help them during his breaks from school. When he was twelve years old he worked at a mine collecting manganese. Hipólito recalls a rough period around 1954 when there were no more good beans. He states that he and his family became accustomed to poverty, understanding that if there was nothing to eat it would have to be tolerated. Hipólito quit school when he was twelve in order to help his father monetarily. He found work at a creamery feeding pigs whey and milking cows. He worked there until he was nineteen. He was paid twenty pesos [Mexican currency] a week. Hipólito married in 1958. [Mins 6:51-9:57; Processing] Hipólito describes how some Braceros used to cut their hands with the intention of making calluses so that they would be selected to become a Bracero. Calluses were a requirement to be selected. In 1959, Hipólito became a Bracero, excited by all of the talk around town. He states that he did not receive many calluses from milking cows, but that his hands still looked as if they were the hands of a worker. He describes how he entered the United States for the first time using his father-in-law’s identification card. The contracting center was in Chihuahua. Some Braceros waited for months in line to be interviewed. He describes an incident in which one Bracero went crazy because he had been waiting for so long. There was security while the Braceros were waiting. Hipólito entered quickly the first time, but had to wait a little while the rest of the times. [Mins 9:58-11:03; Last Contract—O’Brien, Texas] The last time he was contracted, Hipólito did not have to wait long as it was December. He expected to be sent to California but instead was sent to O’Brien, Texas to pick cotton via Eagle Pass, Texas. He describes how he suffered there with the freezing weather. While he was in O’Brien, his daughter was born ill. He received letters from his mother-in-law documenting her condition, and he returned home to México without money. His daughter was in the hospital for five months and Hipólito had to take whatever work he could find. Much later, he moved to Ciudad Juárez. [Mins 11:04-16:31; Processing Continued] The requirements to become a Bracero were the military record and birth certificate. After a Bracero was contracted, he was undressed and placed in a line. An American man, who Hipólito thinks was a doctor, examined each Bracero’s anus. If a Bracero had hemorrhoids, he was not allowed to continue being processed. The Braceros that passed the examination were transported via train to the Río Vista Processing Center in El Paso, Texas for more examinations. At the United States-México border, the Braceros were sprayed with DDT. Hipólito describes the bad smells in the contracting centers because Braceros were without bathrooms and showers and had traveled long distances. He remembers that they would urinate in corners for lack of a bathroom. He describes an incident in which his hat was stolen while he was being examined. He describes where Río Vista is. At Río Vista there were bunk beds stacked four beds high. The room was about thirty meters long. Braceros arrived at all hours of the night. He remarks on the types of rude comments that occurred among the Braceros at night. Hipólito does not remember showering at Río Vista. In the cafeteria at Río Vista, there were large tubs of beans with bacon and ham. The Braceros were served by the cooks. They were also served a juice that acted as a purgative in order that their bodies be completely clean upon arrival at the worksite. In another processing center, Hipólito explains that the cafeteria was very pretty and elegant with plates that were partitioned. [Mins 16:32-19:59; Pecos, Texas] Hipólito describes how Braceros were tricked and forced to accept contract work in Pecos, Texas. Calling it “Pecos mentado” [fucking Pecos], he explains that the Braceros were scared of Pecos because as pickers, it paid little and had a poor harvest as the cotton was not of high quality. Hipólito’s first contract was picking cotton in Pecos. He explains how unending picking cotton seems the first time one does it. One hundred pounds of cotton cost $1.05 or $1.50, and the Braceros would pick between two hundred and four hundred pounds of cotton per day. He states that it was tiring work because they were kneeling down all day. He describes working in a ranch in Pecos where there were many snakes. [Mins 20:00-21:53; Living Conditions] In Pecos, more than 150 Braceros lived together in the barracks. It was a long room containing many beds and stoves. Beneath each bed was a box of clothes and their locked luggage. Each Bracero cooked for himself. Hipólito had a stove next to his bed, and he and another Bracero cooked together. They would eat beans, potatoes, sopa [pasta dish], and eggs, among other things. In O’Brien, Hipólito lived in a small apartment with three other Braceros. There were four bunk beds stacked on top of each other and Hipólito was in the top bunk. He recalls how cold it used to get at night, explaining the measures he would take to deal with the cold. [Mins 21:54-25:45; Working Conditions] Hipólito explains how some Braceros used to pick cotton when the dew had not yet dried even though they were not allowed to, in order to yield more profit from the weight of the bag. An official weight-taker was appointed to record how much each Bracero picked daily, but Hipólito expresses that there may have been mis-weighed harvests. Hipólito was paid every eight days in cash and then transported to the supermarket. He would send the rest of the money home to his wife via money order. Hipólito explains how he would always have to ask another Bracero to fill out the money order form for him, but states that the money did always arrive in México. Hipólito’s first two contracts were for three months each, but his contract in O’Brien was for a longer period of time. He describes how he always intended to get a job in a creamery in the United States but never did. [Mins 25:46-26:59; Returning to México After Contracts] When their contracts were completed, the Braceros were returned to Río Vista via bus. Once there, they received a bag of food containing some sandwiches and drinks. They were then transported to the United States-México border. Each Bracero was then on his own to travel home. Hipólito would always take a bus from the border to Chihuahua. When he returned to Chihuahua, his life had not improved much economically. He explains that cotton is not the most lucrative harvest. He states that other Braceros that had different types of contracts received more money and returned home with extra money. Hipólito would milk cows while he was in México between contracts. [Mins 27:00-28:05; Reflections] Hipólito feels proud to have been a Bracero because he fought and suffered for his family. [Mins 28:06-29:14; Missing Home and Food] Hipólito most missed his wife’s chili when he was in the United States. As Braceros, they would make potatoes, roasted and refried beans, and eggs. Hipólito also missed his house and his wife. [Mins 29:15-30:08; Recreation] On Saturdays the Braceros would buy groceries, and on Sundays they would wash their clothes and shave. Some Braceros would travel from worksite to worksite to play cards on Sundays. Hipólito never played cards, expressing his disdain for gambling. [Mins 30:09-33:32; Memories] Hipólito recounts a time when he was sick with dysentery as a Bracero. He told his superior that he did not feel well and he was given Pepto Bismol. He was sick for a while. Hipólito recalls an incident in which a mouse was stuck in the water faucet, and states that afterwards, no Braceros wanted to drink water from the faucet. Hipólito recalls that the time that the bus that took them to the grocery store broke down he and another Bracero fixed it. [Mins 33:33-End; Reflections Continued] Hipólito states that the Bracero Program was a good thing because he knows Braceros that drove tractors who were able to buy land in Ciudad Camargo, Chihuahua, México, and Namiquipa, Chihuahua México to set up their own farms. He speaks about an ongoing legal dispute over a piece of land he owns. Hipólito’s children and grandchildren are United States citizens. File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Burrola_Ruiz_NMAH012 subject (Spanish) Bracero Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Hipólito Burrola Ruiz creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Acosta, Anais contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Acosta, Anais Burrola Ruiz, Hipólito Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2005-11-12 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Hipólito Burrola Ruíz was born on November 25, 1936, on a ranch in Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México; he is one of fourteen children; as a child, he would help his uncles in the fields; when he was twelve years old, he dropped out of school in order to begin working and helping his family financially; he was married in 1958, and the following year, he enlisted in the bracero program; as a bracero, he worked in New Mexico and Texas; he continued working with the program until 1961. Summary of Interview: Mr. Burrola briefly discusses his family and childhood; in1958, he was married; the following year he enlisted in the bracero program at a contracting center in Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México; he mentions the long waiting lines, the required documents, examinations, and how callused hands were essential to obtaining a contract; from there, he was transported by train to Rio Vista, a processing center in Socorro, Texas, where he underwent further assessments and was deloused; in addition, he describes the poor conditions at the center; as a bracero, he worked in Artesia, New Mexico and O Brien and Pecos, Texas; he recalls how some men had to be tricked into going to Pecos, Texas; no one wanted to go there, because they were paid poorly and the harvest was usually not very good; he goes on to discuss his living and working conditions, wages, provisions, and recreational activities; when his contracts ended, he was returned to Rio Vista by bus, given food, and left on his own to return to México; he continued working with the program until 1961; he concludes by reflecting on the program overall and what it meant to him to be a bracero. Language A language of the resource spa Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Title A name given to the resource Hipólito Burrola Ruiz https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/bonilla_elp006_b6d8cd77f3.mp3 cfc9e125fa8a65225c40313c7365f18e Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Elías Bonilla Nació el 1 de abril de 1934 en Tornillo, Texas; su padre era nativo de Chihuahua, México, y su madre provenía de Coahuila, México; es el mayor de cinco hermanos; su padre era jefe de una tienda de comestibles en Tornillo y también estaba involucrado en el negocio de la construcción; durante un breve período la familia se mudó a California, pero regresó luego a Tornillo; entonces ayudó a su padre en un almacén de Allison Farms, donde muchos de los clientes eran braceros. Resumen de la Entrevista: El Sr. Bonilla recuerda su niñez en Tornillo, Texas; se extiende en detalles sobre el trabajo de construcción de su padre y de su abuelo, quienes fabricaban casas y edificios de adobe; su familia se mudó a California entre 1946 y 1949 y luego regresó a Tornillo; cuando regresaron a Tornillo, ayudó a su padre con el trabajo en un almacén de Allison Farms; describe el comisariato y los distintos servicios que proveían a los braceros; además, describe el tipo de elementos que compraban los braceros, cuáles eran sus cosas preferidas y el tipo de ropa que vestían, que por lo general eran bastante reveladoras de las diferentes ciudades de México de donde ellos procedían; en 1952 se fue para enlistarse en el ejército, y de ahí en más narra sus experiencias en la milicia y cómo fue su vida posteriormente. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Baquera, Richard Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Bonilla, Elias Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of Interviewee: Elias Bonilla Date of Interview: April 2, 2003 Name of Interviewer: Richard Baquera This is an interview with Mr. Elias Bonilla, taken at his home in El Paso, Texas, on Wednesday morning, April 2, 2003. The interviewer is Richard Baquera, and this is for the Bracero Oral History Project. RB: If you would please, tell me your name. EB: Elias Bonilla. RB: Your birthday? EB: First of April, 1934. RB: Yesterday was your birthday. EB: Sixty-nine years young. (laughs) RB: Happy one day late birthday. Where were you born? EB: I was born in Tornillo, Texas, in El Paso County, down in the Lower Valley, about fifty miles from here. RB: Your parents, how long had they been there? EB: My father and his family migrated from Chihuahua, in March of 1910. They lived in Fabens and in Tornillo all that time. My dad grew up in the valley, and he became a store manager or storekeeper as he called it. My mother and her folks were originally from Coahuila. They came over much later, and my mother and father met as young people in the little town of Tornillo. They married, and I was the eldest child out of five. RB: You have four other brothers and sisters? EB: Yes, two brothers, one deceased, and two sisters. RB: Your father was always a storekeeper? Do you remember? EB: My father, as a young man, was the leader. That is to say, he represented the family. He represented my grandfather’s construction business. He was the one who dealt with the clients. He was the fellow that they went to for everything that needed to be done. He learned to speak English quite well. They built a store for a fellow named Mark Silverman. He took a liking to my dad, and they worked with him for months while they were constructing the store. He offered him the job of senior clerk, and later dad became manager of the store for the Silverman’s. RB: That was down there— EB: In Tornillo. RB: Do you remember how many people were in Tornillo at the time? EB: It’s an unincorporated little village, a hamlet really. It grew up around the water tower, like so many of these little towns in west Texas did alongside the railroad. There must have been about maybe two hundred or two hundred and fifty people, at most. RB: It’s mostly for the farms in the area. EB: Absolutely. It’s a cotton farming community. They also had an oil mill, a cottonseed plant, and of course, the gin. That was the economy of the town. RB: Especially, I would assume, in the fall when all the cotton was being [harvested]. Was it pretty much just all cotton? EB: The construction of Elephant Butte Dam was done somewhere in about the early teens, 1912, 1915. The purpose of it was to control the water coming down from the Rio Grande. It would come through in a flood stage in July and August. Generally, [it] just spread throughout the valley changing the course of the river and causing a lot of havoc. In order to become more organized agriculturally, they had to tame the river, both on the Mexican side and on the American side. It was very rich bottomland. Unfortunately, the water didn’t come in on schedule. Sometimes it was late. Sometimes it came in early, but it did come in and just generally flood the fields. Arrangements were made with the government to build Elephant Butte and then turned over to the water improvement district. There were some interesting things that went on. My father along with his other brothers helped my grandfather use a steel—harrow—a fresno. He would hire out at ten dollars an acre what they call in Spanish a desmontar. This would be to smooth out the hillocks and small mounds of earth with brush, and leave it ready for the final braiding for the cotton farmer. For ten bucks an acre, my grandfather would take two mules, the steel fresno, and then the children, including my father. [Together] they would gather up all the mesquite brush, and that would be piled up in one corner of the acreage. At the end of the week, on Friday, my father would take the two mules and the wooden wagon, and he would pile up all of the collected mesquite brush to bring it into El Paso. [It] would have been a minimum of thirty-five miles from Tornillo into Ysleta. At the time, it was called Alameda, which of course was Highway 80, our first interstate. The trees grew up over on both sides of Alameda, which was nothing more than a two lane macadam with a stripe down the center. The cottonwoods were huge, and they met in the center, forming a canopy all the way from Tornillo to Ysleta. RB: Really, that far? EB: It was, of course, a messy tree. It litters. By the end of the day, pieces of branches and brush would fall onto the roadway. The electric company would send crews out to clean the roadway all the way down so the people could safely travel on it. People were still using it with a combination of automobiles, some trucks, and then of course, the wagons, like my dad’s. Alameda was parallel to the railroad tracks. You had the railroads probably fifty yards away. Then you had the canopies, and you had Alameda itself in the center of the canopies. My dad would take all day. He told me to take his mules with the wagon full of firewood, and take it to his route. He had a regular route in Ysleta. He would take it [firewood], and he would trade it to bakeries. There were a lot of bakeries at the time. He would also trade it to store owners for groceries. By the end of the day on Saturday, my dad would have gotten rid of all the wood, and he had a wagon full of groceries. He would spend the night there, sleeping in the wagon. In the morning, he would hitch them up and drive back home Sunday. [We] had a week’s worth of groceries that he had negotiated, traded, and bartered for the firewood. That was part of the profit the family got in the family business of desmontar. Of course, at the time, there wasn’t that much land leveled in El Paso County, certainly not in the Lower Valley. The Upper Valley was an entirely different situation. You had stagnant water in the Upper Valley, and that had to be done in another matter. Down in the Lower Valley, it was done by the harrows, steel fresnos. RB: In other words, these were the first people who were basically starting agriculture down there. There hadn’t been anything there before? EB: There had been. What you had at the time was a ready market for alfalfa. Remember that Fort Bliss had a huge cavalry, a remount there. The Mexican cavalry also had a huge amount of horses. Then there were the normal farm animals in the Lower Valley. There was a big market for alfalfa. The average person who lived in the rural area, outside of the little hamlets, would have truck gardens, and they would grow their own vegetables. We can say that there was a certain amount of small agricultural plots there. People came here with the idea from places like Alabama, Louisiana, Missouri, and those southern cotton-growing states. They knew that El Paso could grow cotton. It had been established pretty early. That’s an interesting story, but we don’t have to get into it now. Anyway, the cottonseed was brought in from outside El Paso, planted, and then of course, it was grown. There was a ready market with a good world price of cotton. The farmers were good businessmen to begin with, the ones who were successful. Not all of them were. They grew the cotton, and then they sold it or had it ginned. They started gins again very quickly here to take advantage of it, [like] good American capitalists. There was a ready market for the labor to prepare land and to level it like my dad. There were other people, who did the same thing, but my grandfather was a very enterprising man. He knew how to trade labor for money and how to trade firewood for groceries, that sort of thing. He also was an albañil. That is to say, he was a general contractor, a very small general contractor. He built adobe houses, and he built adobe commercial buildings. My father learned to represent him in the negotiations with the owners of these residences and commercial buildings. He and I got together one time after I had become a contractor. I took a pencil to all he told me, and I found out that they actually had a margin of profit of 20 percent on what they did. At the time, a maestro, this would be a real first class adobe placer, a fellow who placed the stuff in the wall, would get about $1.50 a day. Now the laborers, the ones who made the adobes, let them dry, and used the hoe and water buckets to make the clay adobe plaster, now they only got about 50¢ a day. EB: They made the adobe themselves as well. RB: They made the adobe themselves, right on site, and let it dry. They weren’t baked, kilned dried, or anything. They were just baked in the sun. They had two systems of doing it. If it were a residence, they would lay the adobes the long way for the wall. If it was gonna be a commercial building, which required a higher ceiling and more strength, they would turn it on the long way. That was the way they determined it. (laughs) When they started out a building, my dad showed me, he would take the heel of his right foot, and he would make a mark in the dirt. Then he would, at right angles, make a second mark. He would do it at every corner. That was the signal for the laborers to start digging. They dug down maybe about a foot, and then they started putting in rocks they had collected. The foundation for these adobe buildings consisted of large rocks and layers of lime mortar. After the walls were brought up, they would mix concrete and pour the floor. As it came up, they used the old method that was introduced by the Spanish to the Arabs in Spain, which was to use a rope. The rope was about twenty feet long, and it had knots in it indicating the placement and width of both windows and doors. They would lay it on top of the foundation. RB: Crosswise or lengthwise? EB: Lengthwise. That would be your mason’s mark, instead of using twine, which they didn’t have. They made everything work. They were good at what they did. They were very efficient and very hardworking. Everything was done on a quota system. My grandfather paid the maestro a dollar and a half a day. By God, he had to lay two hundred adobes a day. (laughs) Of course, everybody at the end of the day was wiped out. RB: The lime for the mortar, did they have to buy it? EB: They had to buy it, but that was really available. It wasn’t like this fancy, yellow colored, hydrated stuff we have now, just pure lime. It was also used for food. RB: For the corn? EB: For the corn, right. It gave good strong teeth, I guess. Look at mine. (laughs) RB: Did he ever tell you what was maybe the largest building he constructed? Was it mostly homes and businesses? EB: He did both. Most of the adobe houses that they built are still standing in the little town of Tornillo. My dad took me around and showed them to me, and I took my kids and showed them. I made them touch the walls and lean into them. Every year, of course, they deteriorate. The largest building in Tornillo was the oil mill. It was a huge place. They tore it down about ten years ago. Everybody and their family got a little piece of it as a souvenir. RB: They had constructed that? EB: They had constructed that. He also constructed a number of buildings in Fabens. They had lived in Fabens. They had built their own compound, the three brothers, my grandfather, and his two brothers. They also built some commercial buildings, which are still there. I have no idea how many residences they built in Tornillo, Cuadrilla, San Elizario, Socorro, or any place like that. He was very active in the trade. My grandfather died in 1928. My mother and father married in 1933, soon after that. He continued working there during World War II. We left my grandfather’s house, which my father had inherited in Tornillo, and we went to live at the Allison place. Dad was the storekeeper at the commissary at the L.R. Allison Farms. It was the largest cotton and cattle company in the Lower Valley. It had fifteen hundred acres. It spanned from Highway 80 to the Mexican border. RB: In other words, to the river? EB: Clear to the river. It was maybe half a mile wide or something like that. At the time, the pecans had not been introduced yet, so they still had a fairly good market for alfalfa even though the cavalry was still here in World War II, [during] the early years. The Mexicans were raising their own alfalfa by then. The cotton was very usable and enjoyed a very good world market price for many years. It was the dominant cotton crop in the world. They made denim from it, and they made a number of other things. They also very ingeniously used the very fine lint that was left on the cottonseed for a number of things. One was to make explosives, and it was also one of the constituent parts of making film. RB: Oh, really? I didn’t realize that. EB: Right, acetate. Then of course, they crushed the seed, and the oil was used to make a substitute for butter. They used everything including the shell. The shell that was left over after they had thoroughly processed the seed was used as cattle feed. It was very nutritious. They used everything. (laughs) RB: It sounds like it. EB: There was always a demand for labor to pick the cotton, irrigate it, hoe it, and so on. Up until World War II, it had not been a problem. You had some people who would come over everyday from little towns on the other side of the border [like] Caseta, Guadalupe, San Ignacio, and all those places. They would come over in the morning, and they would work all day. Then in the evening, they would simply walk back across. That was all pretty well understood. The Border Patrol and Customs people went along with it, because the American farmers needed that labor. There were a lot of native Mexican Americans who did that, but they were always looking for better work than that. They had to bring in these day laborers, jornaleros, from Mexico to take up the slack. RB: Do you remember how much they were paid? EB: Not much. I was a child then. I’ve done some research on it, and I remember the stories that I was told. I don’t have a firm grasp on all of the numbers. In World War II, the Americans took prisoners, and they brought them into places like El Paso and many other places I’m sure. They set up camps. There was one in Fabens, in particular. I think they had about fifty people there. RB: Were they Germans or Italians? Do you remember? EB: The first ones were Germans. After that, they brought in more Italians. The Italians were very amenable. They could almost speak Spanish. It’s a very similar language, as you know, a romance language. Neither the Germans nor the Italians, who I understand were basically rural people and farmers themselves, were used to the heat. They certainly weren’t used to stoop labor. Their productivity was pretty low. If they picked one hundred pounds a day, that was a lot. It was mostly like twenty-five to fifty pounds. (laughs) Some did more, and some did about that. The American farmers were pretty unhappy about it. All the available Mexican American labor, including my uncles and even my dad, for a short while, were all drafted. They were gone. They were fighting. That little town produced dozens of soldiers. Most of them went into the Army. There was a vacuum here, and there was no labor. There was a huge demand for the cotton product, as you can imagine, just for uniforms alone, the khaki. I can’t pretend to know exactly how it worked out, but the Mexican movers and shakers over in Juarez realized that there was huge market for labor on the American side, and there was a huge surplus of Mexican labor on the other side. There was no way to get them back and forth because of the immigration laws, which were being strictly enforced after all, for security reasons. As I recall, the railroads were staffed by Mexican soldiers with bayonets. (laughs) They patrolled the passenger cars to prevent escaping prisoners of war from going down into Mexico. There was a lot of that, you could see, I recall. Dad had moved the family to California, East Los Angeles, which is a very interesting story, but we won’t go into that. We got back in 1949. Things had changed here in El Paso. RB: You were at Allison Farms— EB: Until about 1946. RB: I see and then you— EB: We moved to California. RB: For about three years? EB: For about three years, then came back. It didn’t turn out to as be exciting and wonderful as we were told. We were told that it was Mexican blue heaven, but it really wasn’t. (both laugh) RB: You came back to the same place? EB: Dad maneuvered a new contract with Mr. Allison. Instead of going to Tornillo and running the commissary there in the little town, we went to the Allison place. We went directly there from California. Dad took up the duties of being— RB: You would have been ten years old? EB: I was about fifteen, fourteen or fifteen, somewhere in there. When I got back, I graduated from junior high school in Montebello, California, and I graduated from elementary school here in Tornillo. I started Montebello Senior High School in 1949 and then in the middle of the year, I was uprooted and brought back here. I finished my high school education in Tornillo. I graduated in 1952. I immediately went into the Air Force, because I wanted the GI Bill so I could go to college. When we got back, there had been a change. I don’t recall if it was the first year of the Bracero Program or not. I’m sure you’ll have more accurate information than what I’m giving you about that. I recall that dad would ask me if I wanted to help receive the workers as they were coming in from Rio Vista. RB: Can I ask you a question? The commissary itself, was it a building on the Allison Farm? EB: Yes, it was. RB: Could you just kind of describe it? What did you sell? Your father ran it, but was there a certain profit that he made? I’m just curious. EB: The Allison place was self-sufficient, almost a hacienda. People lived on the place, managers and so on. Most of the senior managers were Anglo. They had their own machine shop and mechanical shop. There was a manager who was the administrator. He did the bookkeeping. Dad ran the store. They had their own blacksmith shop, where they did a great deal of work, in addition to the machine shop. They had their own blacksmith guy there with an anvil and a huge hearth. [It was] bang, bang, bang, all day long, I can still hear it today, a wonderful memory. Then there were the people who handled the livestock. They always had a certain amount of beef cattle on the place. Later, they introduced sheep, but that didn’t work out too well. They always had cattle, and of course, they had herds of horses. One summer I worked as a cowboy. I learned to ride and work the cattle and so on. They had a caballerango, which is as you know, the root word for the American cowboy word, wrangler. He was the guy who took care of all the horses, all the tack, and kept the herds in good repair. They used them to move the cattle from one pasture to another. When they were through raising a crop of alfalfa, which was harvested up until about maybe the fourth or fifth cutting, they would bring in the cattle to let them graze on it. They had to keep them moving, because alfalfa has the tendency to create gas in the cattle. That’s what we did as kids. Anyway, the big product was cotton. Mr. Allison was an investor. He had purchased that land by combining three actual smaller farms. He bought them and combined them all under Allison. The way he worked, he had an interest in a construction company in New Mexico—Allison Haney. They were the largest road contractors in New Mexico. He was politically very well connected with the senators from New Mexico. Also, he was very well connected with the state representatives and senators from El Paso to Austin. He also invested in oil and gas leases. He was a friend of Conrad Hilton. All of these people were originally from New Mexico, so they all knew each other. He kept a place at the Hilton Hotel in downtown El Paso. He always kept the penthouse rented. That was one of the places where he stayed. He also had an apartment in a New York City hotel. He often went there. He bought the land and built this large hacienda building as a residence. He was there with his daughter, Francis Allison, a wonderful woman, but I’ll go into that a little later. He was traveling a lot, so he had professional managers in charge of what he did. Whenever he was in residence, well of course, things revolved around what he needed done. For the most part, he was an absentee owner. He kept track of everything. (laughs) He really did. He was quite a businessman. He also had been involved in the creation of one of the dams in New Mexico, with a partner. He made a ton of money during the war, because if you remember, they needed electricity, so they needed the dams built. The government gave cost-plus contracts. It was a twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week construction job. They poured concrete twenty-four hours a day to build those dams. I forget which dam he was involved with, but he got one. The man was very busy. He also found time to start the Sunland Park Racetrack. RB: He had horses as well. EB: He could see the value of having horseracing down here. Since he had the politicians with him, he was able to get that done. In order to do it, he needed water, and he needed wells. Of course, when the people heard about his plans, all hell broke loose in El Paso. All of the Protestant Churches, I don’t think the Catholics got too involved in it, but they thought it was just terrible that gambling was being brought in so close to us. They led a drive to stop the drilling of the water wells so there would be no casino, no racetrack, and no gambling. He was able to prevail and get the wells sunk and run and started. You can see he was very (laughs)— RB: Sounds like it. EB: Anyway, he was also involved very much. It was in his interest, as far as the labor was concerned, to have some input into making sure the Bracero Program was a reality. If I’m not mistaken, it was Antonio Bermudez, in Juarez, who came up with the idea of a Bracero Program. Brazos, pues, meaning strong arms. Every farmer would contract, it was all worked out legally, at Rio Vista. I’m sure you probably have information on that. That would become the reception center for all of the qualified men from all over Mexico. As each farmer neared his crop need for labor, he would contract for so many, and they would send them out in buses, usually at night, because it was cooler then. There I take up the end of my story. Dad asked me to go help him. We got up and went over there about ten o’clock at night. Dad opened up the warehouse, which was across the street from the commissary. There was a huge open area between the corrals, the dairy cattle, the horse herd, the warehouse, the storage, the buildings, the administrative building with the connected store next to it and warehouse for the commissary, and then a great number of other outbuildings. They had a terrific infrastructure. It was all pretty well planned. They all had aluminum roofs, which were later painted silver. The plaster walls on the adobe buildings were all white, and the trim was painted a royal dark blue. Everything in the place was the same color, except his hacienda. They had housing for all of the managers. It was according to tenure, which house you got. Some were starter houses, some were better, and some were much better. According to your pecking order, you got a house. Dad usually got us an upgrade every year. We finally wound up living right behind the store, a very nice place. RB: The store then was there basically to provide for the needs of the workers who were there? EB: For the whole place, yeah. RB: So that you wouldn’t have to go into Tornillo or anywhere else. Whatever you needed, supplies, food, or anything was there. EB: It was all there, and they would also take charge of ordering custom things, whatever they really needed, since dad had the contacts with all these vendors who would come in. It was three-quarters of a mile from Highway 80 to the front of the store. It was a two-lane gravel road with trees on both sides. They would come in all day long, all the vendors. They would bring in bread, milk, groceries, and all kinds of staples. Anything that was needed from El Paso or elsewhere was ordered through the store, and dad took care of that. RB: How many workers do you suppose were on the farm? EB: The men who lived on the place from Mexico were called peones acasillados. These were laborers who were given free rent. Then you had peones de dia, jornaleros, who would come in during the day, but they left at night. I would say, year-round, there were probably fifty people, including the families and the managers, and then all of the other people who were in charge of the agricultural group. RB: It must have been a good size commissary then. EB: It was, and there was a big turnover of items. Dad had a butcher shop at one end of the store with a walk-in freezer. The rest of it was taken up with canned goods along one side. Across the back were all the dry goods. Then there were other things on the serving counter where you would have candies and things like that. It had a concrete floor. Stacks of soda, for example, were brought in and placed one on top of the other all the way up to the ceiling. It was kind of tight in there. It really was. Dad would hire clerks. Dad would put me to work behind the counter at the age of, I think, it was eight years old. That’s when I got my social security card, in 1943, I think. Anyway, dad taught me how to wait on people and all that. He had one little mechanical adding machine. You pushed on it, and you pulled a lever. Dad wouldn’t let me use it. He told me not to use it. I said, “What do you have it here for?” He said, “Look, you learn to do your adding with a pencil. Just learn to do the addition. Now, if you want to check your addition on the bill for accuracy, then you can use the machine.” Well, by the time you got through, you were busy. You didn’t have time to work the little machine. You did it all by pencil. This is the way dad taught me to do it. Today, I find myself taking notes for the things I have to do with a number two pencil and a yellow—(laughs) RB: Same way. EB: Yeah. He was right in a way, because I’ve seen places where the electricity goes off, and everybody is used to using adding machines, the lights go off, they’re helpless. They can’t do anything. Anyway, dad would hire clerks and train them, as he needed them. When the braceros came in, there was an explosion of work, of everything. They brought in more tractors, and they repaired them. They had all kinds of equipment to begin with. They even used surplus army equipment. They had a tank that they had remodeled. (laughs) A tank! RB: What were they going to be using— EB: They were using it to pull these huge plows. At one time or another, you would have to go deep and turn them over. As you understand, cotton depletes the soil of nitrogen. They used to put in alfalfa for a couple of years to replenish the soil and then go back to the cotton. In order to get all the root system of the alfalfa, which is very extensive and very hard, they had to use very deep plowing. They had to have a Caterpillar for that, but they also had a tank. You couldn’t just get anything you wanted. You usually bought things used, and then you repaired them. You had a good mechanic. They were always cannibalizing parts, creating new ones, and welding new ones. [It was] a busy place. Some of my prettiest memories are of going over in the summers and listening to—talking to the guy at the blacksmith shop while he was doing all the work, sharpening and resharpening the tools for the various machines. RB: Do you remember his name? EB: No, I don’t. He lived in Caseta, and he had a family. He was an older guy, but he was very stout, a life timer. He came back and forth. When he retired, they brought in new people with automatic machines, so no more handwork. I still remember the day. They would talk to me. I had the run of the place, and everybody knew me. They were real good to me, all those kids. I had to learn to get along with laborers. My mother had taken us, in the summers, down to Mexico, Coahuila, a little town outside of Torreón. My grandfather and grandmother lived there. That’s where she had been before. She would take us kids, and we would jump on the train. We would go down as soon as school let out in El Paso County. We would go on about a two-day trip down to Coahuila, through all those towns. It was an exciting adventure for a kid. I’m telling you! Of course, you didn’t have first class accommodations, you had second and then you had third. Third was where all the chickens and pigs were. Second at least you had a place to sit. There were no dining facilities so you bought food at every stop, and there were a lot of stops. People would come up and thrust cups of coffee and milk at you, gorditas and tamales, whatever you wanted to eat. Nobody gave any thought to sanitary facilities or food inspectors. You just grabbed what you could, paid for it, and ate. There would be musicians. I remember one guy was blind. He was good on the guitar, and his son would bring him aboard. The guy would sing, and people would take pity and drop—he had a lot of voice, and he always sang these real tearjerkers. (both laugh) RB: That’s what you could call good drinking songs. EB: Drinking songs, right. There were always people on the way down. There would be the ever-present Mexican soldiers with their guns and all. The Mexican National Railroads bought a lot of used equipment from the Americans. When the Americans came out with the diesel, they got rid of all of their steams. All the steam stuff went down south. Mexico did the same thing. When they got ready to buy other equipment, they would take theirs, and they would sell it to Guatemala, Honduras, or whatever. Whatever we do to the Mexicans on the border here, they do to somebody else down there. RB: Lower on the pecking order. EB: Yes, sir. One of my memories was going down a steep hill into—Gomez, Gomez—Palacio. We were coming down lickety-split, and all of a sudden, I was the only guy awake in that particular train or car. I could see the lights from the other car getting dimmer and dimmer, and I realized we had pulled apart. (laughs) I woke everybody up, and said, “Hey!” Everybody was in an uproar, you know. Well, the engineer, this wasn’t the first time it had happened. He simply slowed down. Eventually we caught up with them, and off we went again. I remember another time. We had to stop, because they had to do some mechanical repair on one of the engines out in the middle of the desert, God knows where. Everybody started getting out and going behind a bush, relieving themselves. Then all of a sudden, toot, toot, and “Let’s go! Let’s get out of here.” You could see people jumping out of the bushes and running toward the train. (both laugh) Anyway, a real adventure for a little kid. RB: Sounds like it. EB: Anyway, of course, I went to school in Mexico in the summers. When I got back, I was put back into elementary school. I recall that the very first summer I went down there; I was put in the second grade. They didn’t [know] what to do with me. I didn’t know—my Spanish wasn’t that good. They decided, as a favor to my grandfather, who everybody knew there, [because] he had a little store there, they put me in and my sister and my brother. They put them in the first grade, and they put me in the second grade. I went to the Mexican school, which I found out, was based on the European system. The first six grades you get algebra. Everything to the sixth grade, and that’s it. From there on, either you go to college, a trade school, or you go to work. It was very interesting. I learned to salute the flag and say the national poem. They were very strong on that down there. Also, I learned the culture, how things are done. There would be maybe two or three grades in the same room. The boys would flirt with the girls, and this was not allowed. The profesor and the profesora, boy they were the law. They had the right to exercise corporal punishment. If somebody got out of line, they would slap the hell out of them. RB: Oh, really? EB: Oh, yeah, both boys and girls. That was it. That was the end of it, nobody complained. There were no letters to the editor. Nobody sued the principal of the school, nothing. (both laugh) The professor was the law. They had a great deal of respect for an educated person. Anyway, [we had] a lot of adventures in those summers that we went down there. I had learned to meet and talk to my grandfather. He was very good about it. He also taught me [to work] behind the counter, to wait on people, but he did it in Spanish. He gave me a great deal of education about people in general. I spent many a happy hour at this elbow, listening to him tell me about people in the little town. I had that advantage. My Spanish increased—my understanding of it. The first summer went that way. Then we came back in the fall. I started in a Tornillo school in the second grade. I sat down, and all of a sudden, I realized I didn’t understand. I had forgotten my English during the summer. It was astounding, hair-raising. I didn’t understand them. These were my friends. I knew them, and I knew they were trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t understand them. Do you know what the sound of English sounds like to somebody who doesn’t speak English? RB: No. I never thought of it from that end. EB: It sounds like the hissing of geese. There are so many sharp s sounds in the English language. You can’t believe—how on earth are you going to learn to speak this language with so many s sounds—it’s so distracting. Soon, in a couple of weeks, it came back to me. I went on my merry way. RB: It’s amazing that you would forget. EB: Yes, that’s true. It happened. RB: I guess it reflects more on the total immersion you were put into over there in the Mexican school. How old were you when you first started working at the commissary with your dad, working with the braceros? EB: Dealing with braceros, I was about fifteen years old, in 1949. They were brought in, as I explained to you. The way it worked, they would bring in a busload. Let’s say there were twenty or thirty people. They would all come down off the bus, and the bus would drive off. They were going to go pick up other people, and take them elsewhere. There would be a list of names. The administrator was there with his list. He would talk to dad, and dad would say, “Okay, you guys make a quadrilla, the four of you guys are gonna live in one room.” So, they would select each other and stand off and be a quadrilla. There’d be four of them. Each quadrilla then, would receive their allotment. This was all worked out by the Mexican government. RB: You really didn’t have a choice as to what— EB: No, because the Americans had agreed to furnish them everything, to pay them so much, and also to provide a certain amount of medical attention for them and so on. Remember, they were only going to be there for a certain number of months, it was not a permanent situation. Dad would have a couple of the guys, his clerks, help me. Each quadrilla would receive their common utensils. Each room was about ten by fourteen [feet], something like that; it had one door and one window. There they had a cuadra, it was a huge rectangle with an open area in the center, it was already built; it was already there. These quarters [were] for the braceros, quarters for semipermanent workers or what have you. They were not houses; the houses were separate. Anyway, there was one light bulb, about a 75-watt bulb, I don’t think it was one hundred, more like sixty or seventy-five. And in the middle of the room were one table and four chairs, then there were four army cots with the springs— RB: The old style? EB: The old style. There would be four men to a room, and that’s what they would have. Each one received their utensils, but to continue with their common utensils, they would get one very large soupspoon, this was blue and white enameled metal wear, that’s what they got, it was new, it had this peculiar polka dot effect, the white coming through the blue, pretty good, there was nothing wrong with it, it was Army issue. Anyway, each man got kind of like a soup platter, which was a large dish, but it was kind of deep, and they could eat soup out of it or whatever they wanted to, each one got that, and each one got a cup. They also got a large bowl so they could wash dishes in it. They also got a two- burner kerosene stove, about this high and this big. RB: Is that like two feet by one foot, less, something like that? EB: Similar, yes that would be good. Each one of them had about a half gallon capacity, glass fuel tank, that was that. Then, personal utensils furnished, they each got a fork, a knife, and a small spoon that was it, that was issued to them, that was chrome plated metal of some kind. RB: Was there any kind of pots, pans, any kind of cooking, anything that they could cook in? Do you remember? EB: Yeah, you’re right, there was a frying pan, I don’t think each one got a frying pan, I think there was a common frying pan, there may have been two. They cooked their own food, except that there would be some of the people who lived on the place, whose wives’ and children lived there. They would have what they would call casas de borde, this would be a person that you would sign up with, and you would be given hot meals. They would cost so much a day, maybe a dollar, dollar and a half, something in that order. They would make you three meals a day, they would make you morning breakfast, and give you a lunch, so you could take it with you in a paper bag, and then at night they would have the cena. They cooked up a storm, and they ladled it out to these guys. A lot of the men just, when they started making money that was a luxury for them, they didn’t want to do that (unintelligible). RB: They’d rather do their own cooking? EB: They would for a while, but then they got tired. They were used to having their womenfolk do all their cooking, here it was, they had to cook, make a lonche, and then at night, they would come home dog-tired— RB: Cook and then clean the dishes. EB: Yeah, the whole smear, so, a lot of them just gave up and they said, “Okay, I’ll just work harder, pay a dollar, dollar and a half a day.” Later on the price went up, of course, prices went up. Then after that, they immediately were given a ficha. The ficha was a brass disk with a number on it in black enamel that was their open credit, they could buy food at the commissary against future earnings. Whatever they owed, they had a system where they would present them, we didn’t keep up with their names, although after a while, we learned their names, and we really got to know them. We would take their order, they would give the ficha, we would take the number down, that’s what was all-important, the number, give them back their ficha, and then they would tell us, “Quiero una caja de pan. I want a loaf of white bread.” They had never seen white bread until they got here, but boy, did they learn to like it. (laughs) RB: They did? EB: Yeah, (laughs) they learned to like it. It was white, enriched flour bread, worst thing you can eat, but there it was. Back then, we didn’t have all this knowledge, (laughs) what was good and what wasn’t. And we would tie a knot on it so the air wouldn’t get in there, and it would last for a while. Some of them would buy together, “Sí,, bueno, tú compre esto y yo compro el otro.” They quickly found out how to buy. Then they would buy cans of food. They liked to buy the prepared beans, they liked to, because they really didn’t know how to cook beans properly, it took forever, and they didn’t want to be stirring. I guess there is a cultural bias against men cooking in Mexico, some have to, of course, but most of the time, this is trabajo de mujeres. They never really learn, they certainly don’t appreciate it, so this is where the commissary came in. RB: Did they get, like, I’m sure they did, but you didn’t mention it, like a blanket, a pillow, anything like that? EB: I’m sorry. They got a pillow, and they also got a bedroll, then they each got an army blanket, olive. That pretty much completes the issue, what each man got. RB: How about any, like, food just to get them started, no? EB: Dad simply opened up the commissary. They had been fed at Rio Vista, they had evening supper, so the only thing they had to prepare for was the next morning, because they went to work right away, then they would have to make breakfast, and they would have to make a lonche. The first few days was hectic for them, because it was all new to them, they had never done it before, and they would forget, they’d forget that they had to buy this and buy that. There was no refrigeration so the food spoiled, you ate it, I mean, you cooked it, and you ate it, because it would spoil. There were two water taps in the center of the open area that worked as everything, that’s where they ditched water and everything else. They also got the water for drinking, water for cooking, and for bathing, they would take the water inside. They would buy a bucket from the store, that’s what they would take a bath. They used the usual system that rural people have used forever; they’d bathe on Saturday night, that’s it. Then during the week, they couldn’t afford to buy razor blades, they were too expensive, la oja, they would shave once a week, and then they would be ready for Sunday. There was no church facilities, nowhere to go, but still, this was a custom, costumbre. They would put on their nice clothes, and they would spend all day Sunday in the cuadra. They would play card games, and they would play baseball, they would just sit and talk and visit, write letters, and all that, they would [take] long walks to the river and back. They knew they couldn’t get out of there, because that would void their contract, they would send them right back. This was good work, good money, all they had to do was focus and concentrate on producing, and they could make money. Excuse me. (pause) As time went on, I recall at the peak of the cotton-picking season, they would be a total of some six hundred at the Allison place. RB: Really? That’s a lot. EB: A lot of them, since there was no more housing available, the cuadra was completely full up, they would come in, by that time, a lot of them were quartered in Caseta. They would have a car, somehow or another, and they would drive over in the morning, these were the guys who were there as jornaleros, all legal, they all had their papers. They were checked at the Fabens Bridge, for example, they would come across, present their cards, the guys knew where they were going. They were looking for them at night, “You come back tonight.” It worked out pretty well, smooth, but there would be that many. Remember the picking was over thirty to sixty days, I mean, boom, boom, done. They had a train of these cotton wagons where they would pull the cotton. They would have a whole system of people who weighed the cotton for them, gave them a slip for the amount of cotton the machines said they had picked up, the scales. They were paid so much; I think it was a penny and a half or something like that, for a pound. At the end of the week, they would tally up everything that they had picked, and then they would calculate, somebody in the office— RB: Eleanor Martin. EB: Before that, the guy she worked for was a Cyber, he was the administrator, they would calculate it. Each man got a little brown envelope with his number on it and his name, in it, they would put in copies of his receipts that were kept showing what he had bought, that was stuffed in there. They would take the money that he owed to the store, turn it over to the administrator’s fund, then what was left over, his net, they would stuff it into it, and that was his money, clear and all. RB: That was cash, right? EB: The whole cash. They had to go to Fabens to pick up the money and bring it in, I suppose thousands of dollars, I never knew. Anyway, on payday, they had a little window, and everybody would come right on up. They would give the ficha—each of them, show it, and they would be given their [checks], then they would look at it, then go and tell dad, “Oiga, usted me cobró tanto.” Dad would make an adjustment or tell them, “Get out of here.” (both laugh) “Don’t try to con me.” They would buy things for themselves once they started getting money in, like pocketknives, and they all liked to carry these pocketwatches, you know, pocket watches? They would buy themselves straw hats for Sunday wear. They would buy cowboy clothes, norteño they call it. The guys from the northern states, from Sonora, Chihuahua, Coahuila, Tamaulipas, places like that, they would dress norteño, we could tell by the dress where they were from. After you get to know them. The sureños, the guys who were from the south, who were always muy indiados, they were very dark, very Indian features, they always dressed in white, white shirt, white pants. The other men called them guardapedos, because they wore narrow legs trousers. They would also wear huaraches; they didn’t wear shoes. RB: All the time? EB: All the time, that was it, they worked and dressed in the same huaraches. They would wash out their white clothes, because that’s what they wore in the southern part of Mexico, it was very humid, but the guys who were from the more urban areas, they dressed differently. All the guys along the border, from Chihuahua and all that, they always wore these fancy norteño clothes, they wore these fancy belts. The ones that could afford it would buy boots, most of them didn’t, but they would buy boots. They would wear dark Levi’s and cowboy shirts, the louder the better (laughs) and a nice hat. RB: It’s interesting, at first, they wouldn’t pay for somebody to cook for them, but then later they’re buying these, what you would consider maybe expensive clothes, you would think they would want to save the money to take home. EB: Richard, it evolved, what they did, their customs evolved. Also, accordingly, they were making more money, they were sending money home, don’t get me wrong, they did it, that was the purpose for being there, but they also—do you want to stop? RB: No, that’s okay; I’m almost at the end of this tape. EB: How long is that? RB: I think it’s seventy-four, we’re at seventy-two. I can go ahead and stop it if you want. EB: No, no. Anyway, remember that this went on for years. So what happened was that you had certain men, a lot of them became almost permanent braceros at the places where they had started, they really did. A lot of them simply transferred their place of residence from down in the interior to these towns over here, Zaragoza, San Ignacio, and so on, what they would do, they would become the daily jornaleros, even if they didn’t, they would go home on the weekends, but they were making money. They had learned how to work the system and work hard, and so they had money left over to buy that, now they would also buy for their children, and dad always had clothing, American underwear for the women, brassieres and panties and all that, also cotton underwear for the men, khaki shirts, khaki pants, and the sombreros. The guys from the interior would wear straw hats all right, but they had a peculiar cultural habit, they would have a little string in the back with a little flower or a little feather hanging from the back of the hat, that way you could tell where he was from, “Este camarada viene de Zacatecas, mira.” You could tell by their walk, their confidence, you could tell by their clothing mostly, and you could tell by their accent where they were from. We learned a lot, I did learn a lot from them. I grew to like them very much. I respected the—there was a nobility about their work, they were proud of what they did, very masculine, they were not at all what you would think. At least we got the clean-cut group up here, they weren’t drunks, they weren’t any of that or fighters or anything like that, they were pretty clean cut, mature, family men, who knew they couldn’t make a good living for their families over there, but they could over here, so you had that. Also, you had some of them who applied for and became permanent visa, green card residents. Now that’s an interesting story. A number of them brought their families over or brought their young wives over, and they had children over there as American citizens. The kids went through school in Tornillo and all, graduated from high school, several of them went to college, women, the girls, and the men, and became very productive citizens and had good professional jobs. You’d find that, up and down, the family took root. RB: Right. It sounds like, from what you’re describing, is that you believe that it was very much a success overall, because the farmers here needed the workers, the workers came over, and by and large, it seems like they succeeded, maybe more than they ever hoped they would, since some were able to stay here— EB: Yes, you’re right, however, what really happened, the other side of the story is, as soon as they could, they got out of here, this was a springboard to the interior. They knew they could go to Kansas City, Chicago, Denver, they could work in the mines in Arizona, they could work, for example, meat cutting places in Iowa. RB: Was this as braceros or as illegals? EB: Legal, green card workers. Yeah, they would come in, and they would pay their dues, it took a while to get that green card, it wasn’t done in a day, but then they took the kids and they were gone. The kids who stayed there went to school, but as soon as they could, they got out of here, they went to college elsewhere. They quickly went to work in Dallas, Houston, Austin, and places like that, then they would send for their mother and father. Over there, they all live together following the old tradition. They would have a car, or two cars, or three cars, and buy a house, buy furniture, and by God, they would start all over again. But, you know, it’s like the old story, it takes three generations to make an American citizen, the third one, the grandchild, doesn’t speak Spanish or Polish or anything else, she’s an American, the middle people, what you would call the immigrant generation, they’re in between, and, of course, the original group that came over, you know. RB: Let me start. This is the end of the first part. This is the second part of the interview with Mr. Elias Bonilla. I wanted to go back. There’s a couple of questions. How long was their workday? EB: It was certainly longer than forty hours. Remember they were being paid as contract labor, no salaries involved. The only salaried people were people like my dad and other managers, but that was different, they were there all year-round. The laborers worked six days a week, Monday through Saturday; they were off Sunday. The time was when they started in the morning, maybe say—early, because in the summer, when it was very hot, they would start early, when you could barely see daylight, say they would start around five o’clock in the morning. Then they would work until it became unbearably hot, or they reached the end of the surcos, or reached another field. They could stop pretty much when they wanted to, but they had to walk all the way back, there would be no transportation. They were very, very serious and industrious, while there was daylight, and there was work to be done, they did it, because this is what they were here for, to make money, there was never any questions about their motivations. They very quietly planned what they were going to do for themselves, what they would do in accumulating money. Some of them, for example, accumulated enough money, I remember a couple of guys in particular, they brought their families into Caseta, and they then opened a little store. RB: Oh, they learned from your father. EB: Yes, that’s right. There was one guy, Francisco something or another, we called him Pancho Pistolas. He was a real character, hard worker. He had his family over here, brought them up from, I think, somewhere in the interior. They set up a little store. He would buy things from dad and take them across and resell them over there, cause not everybody would come across. Remember, those gates had slammed shut in World War II and afterwards, so you didn’t have that much free flow, the only people who would come over were the people who had a visa or who had a one day shopping permit, but not everybody had a car. People on the other side were limited in their ability to come over and buy things. They were kind of prey for people who brought the stuff over there and sold it to them on credit, credit, remember that. Anyway, I admired them and saw that they were people who wanted to better themselves and were very crafty, very patient, who saw opportunities for themselves, and who were quite willing to sacrifice years of hard work in order to achieve certain goals for themselves and their families, to better la familia. They not only took advantage of American educational opportunities for their children, but they also took advantage of, as I mentioned earlier, once they got that green card, that was a ticket to anywhere they wanted to go in the United States. There was absolutely no problem in going to work anywhere else in the United States. Here in this part of the country, people tend to follow the 106th meridian, they go straight up, and then from there they go to Iowa or whatever. RB: Like Denver. EB: Denver, straight up, they take the railroad or they take the Greyhound bus. In California, that was an entirely different matter. People from Arizona, they have their own states that they follow; they also do a lot of work in the mines over there, which is not necessarily true over here. Here, these people are agricultural workers, the best in the world, very, very good. Then on the East Coast, I mean the West Coast, you have very hardworking people, people, for example, from the state of Jalisco. Actually, one of the hardest workers I’ve ever seen in my life [was from there], they make the guys from Chihuahua look like pantywaists. So all that I learned from living in Mexico as a child and working with my dad behind the counter with the braceros, I put to use later on in my career, because I was able to function very well with these Mexican workers. RB: I do want to ask you about afterwards. I was just wondering, did you ever see any kind of abuse of the braceros? You know, I don’t know—they weren’t paid what they were supposed to? I don’t know, mistreatment in any way? EB: I never heard of any. You had occasionally people who tried to cheat the system. They would put rocks in their costal, but they were quick to catch on to that, they would feel them, find a rock, and take it out. A guy like that would be fired, it kind of worked the other way around. People were always testing the system to see if they could find a soft spot or they would steal things in the store. Oh, yeah, but I never saw anybody who was abused, I never heard of any. Everybody wanted them to succeed in production, because everybody’s job depended on it. Dad couldn’t sell groceries if nobody was there to pay for them, and so on. I never heard or saw anything. We heard of stuff like that, for example, you would hear stories about people from Pecos who were supposed to have a bad reputation over there. I personally have talked to people who told me they had been shoved around in the sidewalk over there, with these toughies, but, for the most part, no. There was more shenanigans going on in California, which I found out later among the agricultural workers. I found out that most of those were not against braceros, but against Mexican Americans themselves, who frankly didn’t have a work ethic from the guys in Mexico. They were just trying to get by without working too hard; they certainly did not produce what these guys did down here. The guys that were able to learn American technology did very well, they were able to join their work ethic by mastering American technology, and became highly productive and well sought after, and well paid. I knew more than one who became a master graftsman. You know you have to graft a type of pecan tree onto the original pecan tree. RB: Sure, it’s very small— EB: The original pecan tree gives very small nuts, but if you introduce, through grafting, another tree in there, then you get the large nut, you get the variety, the paper shell, and so on. That takes some doing. I knew one fella who became very, very good at it, he did it all for the Allison place. When they introduced that as a cash crop, he became a consultant. [He] went to live on his own and went to go graft for whoever hired him. Boy, his kids did well, oh, my God, all went to college in Dallas. RB: The most interesting occupation. EB: Very interesting. We had a lot of fellas who became masters at tractor, tractoristas, they were very, very good at it. They could go to work almost anywhere there was harvesting machines, then they also became good mechanics and could move on. There was always the master carpenters, who were always in demand, one or two were always needed. Then there were the guys who learned to do the welding, who were already welders; they brought with them a lot of skills that they put to good use, anything to try and reach that magic status of being a resident alien, the green card. RB: It almost seems like there was nothing to stop you, if you had the willingness to learn to do something. EB: That’s true. It’s always good to remember that in these kinds of migrations, the fellas who finally made it over here and became braceros went through a great deal of grief and sacrifice in doing without. It wasn’t easy to get in line and get assigned and go through the process. RB: They would be X-rayed and checked— EB: Oh, yeah, checked, selected, and they had to prove themselves every step of the way. The guys we had were survivors, genetically, their kids were survivors, too. They had a work ethic that was incredible. I’m sure you have the information about what went on at Rio Vista. Later on, I became friends with a fella who was a civilian employee of the United States Department of Health, as opposed to a commissioned officer. This fella was a civilian, and he had a Ph.D. of entomology or etymology, expert in lice. Anyway, his job was to inspect them at Rio Vista, the new guys who came in. He would inspect them for lice and take down the data. He told me that there are three kinds of lice that inhabit the human body. The first one inhabits the region from your toes up to the groin; that’s their turf, they don’t go any further. Then you have a second one that inhabits the human body from the groin up to the eyebrows and doesn’t go any further, that’s their turf. Then you have the head lice, these are the little insects that live in the scalp and do not come south. So, yeah, that’s how they work. Anyway, he would take down notes and all that, he would test them. He would try to find if there were different species. (laughs) Anyway, interesting enough. RB: Do you remember his name? EB: No, we called him Doc, but I don’t remember his name. When I met him, he was about my age at the time, maybe twenty-nine, thirty, something like that. He was a graduate of Rutgers, back east, he completed his Ph.D., and gone to work for the U.S. government. Anyway, he told me, he had been invited to go and present a paper at an annual meeting that they had regarding the Braceros Program, I think they met either in Laredo, across the river, or in Monterrey, somewhere in that area. All of the American agencies that were involved in the Bracero Program, on this side, all had representatives down there, this would have been the Border Patrol, Customs, certainly the United States Health Service, there were all the guys who did the x-raying and the doctors who did their examining and all of that. They had to be free of any disease. This is where they eliminated so many people, they had TB, they had jaundice, they had, God, you name it, they didn’t want them over here, because—what would happen was that the Americans had to pay for health insurance. The health insurance close to us was in Fabens, they had a doctor there, Dr. Treece, T-R-E-E-C-E, who had a little hospital there, and he also had a private practice and a partner. They would handle what really would amount to workers’ comp cases. Somebody on the farm got hurt, hit his eye, or stuck something through his hand. They would immediately run him over; they would stop what they were doing, put him in a pickup truck, head over there, and they would be treated. If he needed to be admitted to the hospital, they would admit him, if not, they brought him back home and gave him stuff to take care of themselves, and they were put on light duty, just like workman’s comp. I imagine it was very similar to that. But, you understand, every time the guy shows up and knocks on the emergency room for the doctor there, it’s gonna cost money, it’s all going to accumulate, and next year the premiums go up. They were very careful, because the farmer’s had a very strong lobby. They were smart, they knew what to look out for, and they were veterans. They had everything happen to them working with Mexican workers that you can think of (laughs), they knew all the tricks. Anyway, they get down to this meeting, and it drones on and on. The Mexican counterparts were there; every Mexican state had a delegation there. These were the guys who came prepared, saying, “We have a letter from so and so, who went over there to such and such a place, and this is what they did to him, and he claims (unintelligible).” All these things were ironed out, it was the purpose of the thing, then based on what when on, the Mexican consulate and the Mexican ambassadors would work up next year’s requirements, “My, God, this year you’re gonna do this and that and the other.” Every year, it got more expensive for the American farmers. They were over here frantically trying to get people in California, like at UC-Davis, to come up with square tomatoes that could be picked up with special equipment; they were working on the machines. They were working on them, because the cost of labor, which had been terrific in the early years of the Bracero Program, now was climbing up, because of the requirements from the Mexican government who was hell bent on having to protect their people. Incidentally, I never heard anything, none of us ever heard anything, about a fund. (both laugh) RB: I Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 2:01:16 File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Bonilla_ELP006 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Elías Bonilla Subject The topic of the resource Allison Farms; interaction with braceros Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Elías Bonilla was born on April 1, 1934, in Tornillo, Texas; his father was originally from Chihuahua, México, and his mother was originally from Coahuila, México; he was the eldest of five children; his father managed a grocery store in Tornillo and was also involved in the family construction business; for a brief time, his family moved to California but returned to Tornillo; he helped his father at a commissary on Allison Farms, where many of the clients were braceros. Summary of Interview: Mr. Bonilla recalls his childhood growing up in Tornillo, Texas; he goes into great detail about the construction work his father and grandfather would do with adobe buildings and houses; his family moved to California from 1946 to 1949 then returned to Tornillo; upon returning to Tornillo, he helped his father work at a commissary on Allison Farms; he describes the commissary and the various services they provided for the braceros; in addition, he recalls what kinds of items the braceros would buy, what their favorite things were, and how the kinds of clothes they wore were often very telling of the different cities in México that they came from; in 1952, he left to join the military, and goes on to tell what his experiences were like while in the military and what life was like afterward as well. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Baquera, Richard Bonilla, Elías Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-02 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Richard Baquera creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Baquera, Richard contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/sanchez_elp047_37e1f43572.mp3 b481d7a9dfddc60765b7d15b7d97ec80 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Baquera, Richard Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Sánchez, Sam Location The location of the interview. San Elizario, Texas Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 51:55 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Sanchez_ELP047 description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Sam Sánchez nació el 5 de abril de 1936 en San Elizario, Texas; tenía doce hermanos y su padre era hacendado. Cuando terminó la escuela secundaria, se enlistó en el Cuerpo de la Marina; cuando terminó su misión en 1959, comenzó a trabajar en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas; continuó trabajando allí hasta 1964. Resumen de la Entrevista: El Sr. Sánchez recuerda su infancia y adolescencia temprana; a menudo trabajaba en el campo ayudando a su padre en la cosecha del algodón. Durante los primeros años de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, también solían ayudar en la cosecha del algodón prisioneros de guerra alemanes y trabajadores indocumentados. Recuerda haber perdido aproximadamente dos meses de escuela para poder ayudar a su padre en los cultivos; cuenta además que a menudo viajaba a Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas, para recoger restos de comida del comedor para los cerdos que criaba su padre. Más adelante, cuando se graduó de la escuela secundaria, se enlistó en la Marina, una vez que finalizó su misión en 1959, obtuvo un trabajo de medio tiempo en Río Vista como guardia de seguridad nocturno. Después lo contrataron del Departamento de Salud Pública para trabajar en Río Vista de forma permanente. Su principal responsabilidad era extraer muestras de sangre de los braceros; con el tiempo se mudó a lo que se denomina área de selección, donde los hacendados o contratistas elegían a los braceros que deseaban contratar. Recuerda que muchos braceros se rehusaban a trabajar en Pecos, Texas por la cantidad de cosas malas que ocurrían allí. subject (Spanish) Departamento de Salud Pública Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Sam Sanchez creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Baquera, Richard contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Baquera, Richard Sánchez, Sam Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-19 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Sam Sanchez was born on April 5, 1936, in San Elizario, Texas; he had twelve siblings, and his father was a farmer; upon graduating from high school, he joined the Marine Corps; when he finished his tour of duty in 1959, he began working at Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas; he continued working there until 1964. Summary of Interview: Mr. Sanchez recalls his childhood and early adolescence; he would often work in the fields with his father picking cotton; during the early years of World War II, Italian POWs and undocumented workers often helped with the harvesting of the cotton as well; he recalls missing the first two or so months of school to help with the crops; in addition, he also recounts how he would often go to Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas, to pick up food slops from the mess hall for his father’s pigs; later, when he graduated from high school, he enlisted in the Marines; when his tour of duty was over in 1959, he began working at Rio Vista as a part-time security guard at night; he was later contracted through the Public Health Office for continued employment at Rio Vista; his primary responsibility was to draw blood samples from braceros; eventually, he moved to what was referred to as the selection area where the farmers or contractors would pick which braceros they wanted to hire; he recalls that many of the braceros refused to work in Pecos, Texas, because so many bad things happened there. Language A language of the resource eng Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Public Health Office Title A name given to the resource Sam Sánchez https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/garcia_villalva_elp021_a5c75b19a0.mp3 c322129a1bfb3b0949019b5f82b9654e Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Flora García Villalba nació en El Paso, Texas; tenía dos hermanas y un hermano, con quienes crecieron en la zona de Lower Valley, El Paso; su padre era dueño de un almacén al que iban a comprar muchos braceros; mientras aún iba a la escuela secundaria, Ysleta High School, comenzó a trabajar como empleada administrativa y mecanógrafa en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas; trabajó allí entre 1954 y 1958. Resumen de la Entrevista: La Sra. García recuerda el almacén que tenía su padre, el cual operó durante treinta y cinco años; como la tienda estaba en un área rodeada de varios campos de cultivo de algodón muchos de sus clientes eran braceros, con quienes a lo largo del tiempo estrechaban relaciones; su padre tenía un amigo que trabajaba para la Asociación Algodonera de El Paso y la recomendó para un empleo en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas, donde trabajó como empleada administrativa y mecanógrafa; él también la recomendó para un puesto en el Ministerio de Trabajo; mientras trabajaba en Rio Vista, mecanografiaba y procesaba la documentación necesaria para los contratos de los braceros; cada bracero pasaba por lo menos treinta minutos con ella completando sus papeles; ofrece una descripción detallada de los distintos procedimientos bajo su conocimiento y comenta que los braceros tenían que pasar por varios departamentos, incluyendo inmigraciones, salud, trabajo y transporte; trabajó allí solamente durante los veranos entre 1954 y 1958; más tarde, cuando estaba trabajando para el Ministerio de Trabajo, recuerda que los inspectores visitaban con frecuencia a lo contratistas para asegurarse de que las condiciones de trabajo y vivienda de los braceros cumplieran con lo estipulado. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Carrillo, Fernanda Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. García Villalva, Flora Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of the interviewee: Flora García Villalba Date of the interview: March 26, 2003 Name of the interviewer: Fernanda Carrillo This is an interview with Mrs. Flora Garcia Villalba, on March 26, 2003, in El Paso, Texas. The interviewer is Fernanda Carrillo. This interview is part of the Bracero Oral History Project. FC: Good morning, ma’am. FG: Good morning. FC: What is your full name ma’am, please? FG: Flora Garcia Villalva. FC: When and where were you born? FG: I was born here, in El Paso, Texas. FC: What year, ma’am, I’m sorry? FG: I prefer not— FC: Okay, sure. And did you grew up here, ma’am? FG: I was raised in the Lower Valley, and I grew around cotton fields. I saw the agriculture all around me as I was growing up. FC: What school did you attend and when? FG: I attended Ysleta High School. FC: What was your desk job during that time? What did you do for a living? FG: I was a student, living at home with my parents. FC: And was your dad a farmer? FG: Well, he was a farmer, and he was born and raised in the Lower Valley. FC: So, you lived in a farm? FG: Not necessarily a farm, but around farm areas, near Ysleta. My father owned a grocery store, he was a grocer, and he owned a store for thirty-five years. FC: How many sisters and brothers do you have? FG: I had two sisters and one brother. My brother passed away, and I have two sisters right now. FC: Do they still live here in— FG: They live here in El Paso. FC: Okay. Were you the only one in your family that got involved with the Bracero program? FG: Yes, um-hm. FC: What about your father? You said he owned a grocery store right there in the Lower Valley. Did he at any time have any contact with the braceros, the ones that were working on the farms? FG: Yes, he did because, fortunately, since our store was in the Lower Valley, our business, we had many, many braceros that came to the store, did their purchasing at our store. My father got to meet a lot of them and visit with them, and so we got pretty close to all these man that were coming from Mexico. FC: So the braceros were able to leave the facilities of the ranches they were working— FG: To go to the store, to go do their buying— FC: Would you happen to remember mostly what they wanted to eat or what was their favorite foods? FG: It’s amazing, because most of them would be living in barracks, and they’d seem like one of them would end up being the cook, and most of those men would kind of let him do the buying, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do and what they were going to fix for meals. We would just kind of step back and watch them, see how they were helping each other, and how they depended on each other to do well and carry on what businesses they were doing here. FC: During your years at Ysleta High School, you said you started working as clerk-typist at the Rio Vista. FG: At the Rio Vista, yes. FC: How did you get involved with this program? Did you read an ad in the newspaper or did someone else told you? FG: My father was a friend of one of the supervisors at the El Paso Cotton Association, and he encouraged him to let me go work at the bracero center. FC: Would you please describe your role in the bracero program during that time? What year was that, ma’am, when you started working? FG: I worked there from 1954, approximately ’54 to ’58, as a clerical worker. I used to do the processing of the micas, they used to call micas, where you would keep all the information, who they were, and all this typing that we need to find out, as far as the original contract, while entering the United States was necessary for them to have in file. FC: This job you did there, did you ask them to show you proof of the information they were giving to you, like an ID or a birth certificate? FG: At this time, I don’t really recall whether we required to have that information, but I do recall long lines of men standing right in front while we were typing and getting all that information as to who they were, where were they born, and every other detail that the form required. I do not necessarily remember whether we required any identification other than what they were giving us. FC: How many people were doing the same clerk-typing job at the Rio Vista center while you worked there? How many of you were [there]? FG: Okay, at the Rio Vista center we had, first of all, different departments, which was immigration, I worked directly for the Department of Labor under the bracero program at Rio Vista, but there were in one department alone, I would say, at least a hundred people, that I can recall. FC: How many people working there as clerk-typists, doing the same thing you did? FG: I guess most of them. FC: Were they ladies? Men? FG: Men and women. FC: Were they studying high school as well or different? FG: Some were students; others were people working as full-time employment. FC: Was your job a full-time? FG: No, not at the time I was first started, no. FC: You worked there during the summers or all year? FG: During the summer. FC: How many hours a day did you work there? FG: Up to twelve hours, twelve, even fifteen hours if someone wanted to stay double shift. FC: Oh, okay, and you worked Monday through Friday or— FG: It was seven days a week. The processings were, on the peak season, we would work seven days a week. FC: When was the peak season, ma’am? FG: I would say between May and September. FC: So, during this time, you were able to work in double shifts? FG: Yes. FC: How many applicants were there on a given day, let’s say, like average of people that you attended, only you? FG: That I attended? FC: Uh-huh. FG: How many, say thirty, every applicant would take at least thirty minutes to process. FC: Thirty minutes to process, you mean like going through everything or just with you? FG: With me, because the processing took at least a day, because they went from one department, Health Department, Immigration, Department of Labor, Department of Transportation, so as they were being processed, there were different departments that they had to go through. FC: Would you please describe the screening process of a bracero for me? Let’s say, the bracero got there, how did they arrive to the Rio Vista? FG: They were brought from Chihuahua to Juárez, from Juárez to the bracero center. FC: Okay, in trucks or— FG: Transportation trucks, I saw trucks, I saw buses. FC: Okay, so they got to the Rio Vista center, what was the first step that they— FG: Okay, let me, I’d have to, I wasn’t really prepared to think in terms of how they [were being] processing, but they went to the Immigration Department, through the Health Department, through the Department of Labor, and the Department of Transportation, and we were working barracks ourselves, so there were different— FC: Buildings for each process—for example, at the Immigration Department, that was the first one, what happened there? FG: I have no idea, because I did not work those departments, I only handled— FC: But I suppose they passed their medical examination and everything. Your department was the last step of the process for them, to fill out all this information, or did they still have to do some other things before they left? FG: No, we were about the last. FC: Okay, and once—so they go with you and fill out all this information. Did they receive any kind of copy of documents you filled out or— FG: I don’t really remember, I can’t recall that. FC: And after that, you filled out the contract as well or that was not part of the— FG: We filled out contracts also, all the time, when we would be filling out contracts. FC: After that, they were ready to leave the center or some of them stayed and passed the night? FG: Some of them would stay depending on what areas they were going to, whether there was transportation available, or [they were] going out into Pecos, or Monahans, or wherever they were assigned to go. FC: Do you remember what were the qualifications to become a bracero? FG: I don’t know. FC: What role did the Mexican government have during the screening process? Were Mexican officials present at the time the braceros were going through it? FG: I remember the Consulado, so they had representative. Yes, because I remember some names of some consuls. Ah, Benito was a consul, I can’t, no, I don’t— FC: That’s okay. So they were several of them at all times, and they were able to be present at any time during the screening process, they were not forbidden to be in certain areas? FG: No. FC: Okay. Where did you live while working at the Rio Vista center? FG: I worked at home, I mean, I was living at home with my parents in the Lower Valley. FC: How did you get to the Rio Vista center? By bus? FG: At the time, my dad used to take me, I didn’t drive, so he would take me there. FC: You said the process lasted almost a day, so were there any meals provided to the braceros? FG: Yes. FC: Right there at the center? FG: At the center. FC: What about the employees? What about you? Did you eat at the same place? FG: No, we took our lunch. FC: Would you describe a typical workday at the Rio Vista center? FG: Say a normal day would start at eight o’clock in the morning. We would go right into our assignments, which was either typing the mica cards, or typing contracts, or taking the fingerprints, because we used to fingerprint them, or other duties that were assigned to us. FC: So, it varied, like the kind of duties you had to do? FG: Yes. FC: Okay. Is there any particular incident that stands out in your mind working as a clerk-typist at the Rio Vista center? FG: I think the most impressive was Annette Coronela that brought her, that was something that was very impressive to me. FC: What was the Coronela, ma’am? FG: The one we talked about bringing in the group of men that she took care of, that she saw that they were processed correctly, that they were assigned to the area that they were supposedly have been assigned to. FC: You mentioned that the Coronela mostly or only bring in Indians? FG: Yes, they looked more like a group of Indians that were being led by her. FC: You mentioned that she had several, kind of ___(?) things in there, she even had guns, you said? FG: Or a halter, I don’t remember exactly if it was a gun or just halter, but she impressed me like she was a general in an army. FC: She was Mexican lady? FG: Yes. FC: Was she young or— FG: Middle-aged. FC: And did they seem to obey her? FG: Yes, they followed her orders or instructions. FC: So when they, her group, was going through the screening process, was she present at all? FG: At all times. FC: Did she sleep with them at the— FG: According to what we thought, we left at the end of the day, and she would be right there with them waiting to see when they were leaving. FC: Do you know if she stayed at the Rio Vista, and then go back to Mexico to bring another group or probably she went with them? FG: I think it was just that group that she brought in, I mean, I never saw her repeating the same. FC: Okay, but you saw her several times during the time you worked there? FG: Um-hm. FC: How many times would you say? FG: I would say yearly, I mean, I saw her (telephone ringing) on a yearly basis. FC: Was it the same group over and over or it might be— FG: I have no idea, no, I can’t remember. FC: In other things, how were the work contracts arranged? You worked, for example, with the employers, you said you filled out some contracts. Were the employers there, they say, “We need so many braceros,” or how did you manage that? FG: At Rio Vista, we were just processing the men as they were coming from Mexico into the United States. I don’t recall exactly in what time that they assigned them, say, to the different employer, but I believe that the assignment of the employer came like, if they went to Pecos, I don’t recall how they assigned them to the different employers, I don’t, I can’t recall that specifically. FC: Do you remember, were the braceros allowed to keep their personal belongings? FG: Yes. FC: How do you say, they look in general? The braceros, were they young men or old men? FG: They were young, and they were older men. FC: Were they kind of serious or— FG: They were very eager to work. They were, like I said here in my notes, they were men that were ready to take a challenge, they were ready to venture out, and more than anything, they wanted to be able to help their families in Mexico, and they all, to me, they all had a dream. They all were. FC: Do you think they looked scared? FG: I don’t think so. FC: They were mostly eager to work, that was their main [goal]. All the time, people that you fill the forms for, was their first time or some of them wasn’t the first time at the Rio Vista center, so— FG: No, most of them was not their first time. As the years went by, maybe like the first year, to me they could have been first, but to them it could have been the second year or third year or… FC: And all the times they came to the United States, they had to go through the Rio Vista center? FG: The same process. FC: So you worked there, you mentioned, from 1954 to 1958 as a clerk-typist, but also, you worked there during the summers. The rest of the year you worked for the El Paso Cotton Association? FG: The El Paso Cotton Association, I helped out, I assisted in clerical work there. FC: What was the main role of the El Paso Cotton Association? What was their connection to the bracero program? FG: They handled a lot of the contracts for the farmers in the surrounding area, in the El Paso area. FC: El Paso Cotton Association was one of the contractors at the Rio Vista center? FG: Yes. FC: And this association covered what area, ma’am? FG: It covered, I don’t recall if it was limited to the El Paso area or it took care of Pecos and other, I don’t recall exactly on that. FC: After that, after working doing clerical work at the El Paso Cotton Association, you mentioned that you moved to the U.S. Department of Labor. FG: Yes. FC: This was around what time, ma’am? FG: Nineteen fifty-eight. FC: And what was your role there at the U.S. Department of Labor? FG: I was again doing clerical work. FC: What was it they do? FG: We handled the inspections of the units of the braceros that were working out in Pecos or the El Paso Cotton Association, which was the El Paso area, Monahans, all the surrounding areas in the southwest that had bracero programs. As Department of Labor, our job was to oversee that those contracts that the employers signed were being met, whether it was through housing, through medical care, through other things that were specified in the contract. We were always checking to see that they were met. We checked for dishonest employers, to see that they were not exploiting any workers, and at anytime that we did find anything that was not being met, an investigation was made. We helped the braceros, we covered their lost wages, their benefits, and follow through to see that nothing was in violation, serious violation, for the contracts needed to be terminated. FC: That was defined for the employer, if you found that they didn’t actually meet all the requirements, their contracts were— FG: They could, in other words, if an employer was found to be violating a contract, and it was a serious violation that could not be remedied, or taken care of, or there was back wages they needed to pay, or there’s anything else that was serious and could not be taken care of, the contract for that employer could be terminated where they could not hire anymore braceros. FC: What was the main things that the inspectors of the U.S. Department of Labor had to check? You mentioned wages, living conditions as well, were there any minimum requirements, like for the living conditions? FG: Yes, they would check to see if they had screens in their doors, that they had water inside, that there were bathrooms, all of these general needs that were specified in the contract, that’s what they were checking for. FC: Okay, what about the minimum wage? FG: They checked on wages, very closely on that, to see that they were being paid, and if there were any wages lost, they would see that they were recovered. FC: What was the minimum wage back then? FG: I believe at that time, it was 60¢ for Texas, per hour. FC: Okay, what about the number of hours they were supposed to work at the field? Was there minimum or maximum number of hours that they— FG: I don’t, I cannot really say they had—they would, you know, we knew that this man was willing to work over there eight hours, but I don’t know if the contract specified that or not. FC: What about medical services? Was the contractor supposed to provide any kind of attention? FG: Yes, they had medical care they had to— FC: And what about the inspectors? They were supposed to be there, the inspections, doing randomly, I assume, and could be, how often would that inspection happen? FG: The inspectors were out, like I said, every day of the week, but they would, I don’t know whether they were assigned the area or they came back according to the length of the contract. If they were going to be six months there, they might check on them every two months, or every three months, or if need be, every month, but not necessarily because of the number of other contractors or employers that were in the areas. FC: Did the employers knew in advance that the inspectors were coming to check the— FG: Sometimes they did, other times they didn’t, depending on what they were looking for. FC: Okay, perfect. You said if they found any dishonest employers or if some of the conditions were not the required ones, an investigation was made. Did they, inspectors talk to [employers] or how was— FG: The inspectors would talk to employers, they were notified as to what the findings were, and they were given, in writing, what they had to do to correct any deficiencies found during the inspections or check into the contracts. They were notified, they were given so much time to take care of it, and then our inspectors go back and follow up on those deficiencies that were determined at the time of the inspection. FC: And what about it they hadn’t kept up with the braceros or person living in the community in order to, you know, to find out if they working. FG: They met with the braceros, talked to them, they would follow up to see whatever the contract was, if it was met, not only the side of the employer, they were also taking care of the bracero themselves. They would talk to them, they would check their housing and their living conditions, they would physically go and check. FC: And besides checking their working and living conditions, were the inspectors of the U.S. Department of Labor, did they require the braceros to show their papers, to show that they were working legally? FG: No, they knew. The inspector knew how many workers the employer had, who the workers were, and so it was not a matter of having someone that was not the person. The employers knew that immigration was constantly checking on places of employment. They knew exactly where the braceros were supposed to be, and that was on a regular basis, immigration was— FC: Was very often, so they did the— FG: The checking. We knew this because our inspectors would come back and say, you know, “Immigration was there, and they came and followed through.” It would seem like sometimes they would run into the immigration and— FC: And the U.S. Department of Labor. FG: Which is, what, Border Patrol? Is it that the one that goes into the— FC: Even sometimes they would work together, I mean, at the same place. FG: One was doing an inspection of contracts, the other was checking to see that these were legal workers. FC: During that time, in general, the contractors met the requirements or the inspectors had, like, several problems? FG: No, I think most of them were meeting their— FC: The requirements. FG: Their contracts. FC: And you said, if there were minor things they can correct, and some deficiencies that were not that important would the inspector ask them to correct that? Were there any limit to times they could have these minor deficiencies? FG: Yes, because the inspector would go back the following week, I mean, it was not a matter of giving them thirty or sixty days, it was a matter of weeks. A week, and they would be back, and that needed to be taken care of. Employees many times would call us, a day or two days later, and say, “It’s already corrected, you don’t need to wait the time, you can come and inspect.” We would send an inspector right back and— FC: So he can check. What about the relations between the U.S. Department of Labor and the Mexican government? Was there any kind of job relationship, like the Mexican government also wanted to take the lead in the working conditions of the— FG: I have no idea; I am not familiar with that. FC: Did anytime during the years you worked for Rio Vista, the El Paso Cotton Association, and the U.S. Department of Labor, did the braceros cause any problems while working at the United States? FG: I don’t recall any. FC: What about any incidents with the braceros, not necessarily good or bad, just accidents? FG: Our inspectors would also check if there were any injuries or accidents, I mean, that is one thing that they would make sure that that was followed through. I don’t remember what exactly process they did, but I know that they looked into it, whether it was reported to another department or our inspectors looked for injuries, to see they were getting the medical attention that was part of the inspections. FC: Were they, the employers, supposed to have any kind of medical attention there, at the place, at the farm, or near the cities, or did they have to report to the U.S. Department of Labor and the U.S. Department of Labor would take care of it? FG: What? FC: Let’s suppose, they were supposed to have medical attention there, at the place, at the farm or did they have to report it to the U.S. Department of Labor, and then they will take care of it? FG: I believe it was already understood that the employer knew what to do in case of a medical incident or emergency, whether they took them to the facilities around there or whether they were at the job site, I don’t know specific. FC: Let’s say an accident happened, and the employer took care of it, everything was okay, but still he had to report that accident to the U.S. Department of Labor? FG: I don’t, I can’t recall how our inspectors found this out or how that was reported. I don’t recall. FC: We talked about the wages of the braceros working there. What about your wages working for the Rio Vista, El Paso Cotton, and the U.S. Department of Labor. In an average, how much did you make? But it was paid with check, right? FG: Yes, because see we were working for the, it was government jobs, so I don’t recall what the pay was at that time. FC: During the time you worked at the Rio Vista center, the employees were there just for the summer, seasonal workers, or did most of them returned, like every— FG: Most of them returned. FC: So, it was most of the time the same people? FG: The same people working there. FC: How was the relation between employees at the Rio Vista center? Did you have a good relationship with your fellow [employees]? FG: We all worked like family, we all got to know each other, just joined for coffee, ten o’clock breaks. (laughs) FC: Oh, you had breaks during the day, because it was— FG: Um-hm. FC: Were you supposed to speak Spanish? Was it a requirement? FG: I would say yes, because most of our questioning was in Spanish. Whoever had to work there had to know Spanish, be fluent. FC: You speak Spanish at that time? FG: Yes, uh-huh. FC: How did you became familiar with Spanish? FG: My parents, at home. (laughs) FC: What about the braceros, were they friendly between them, with the employees at the Rio Vista center? FG: I think they were all made to feel at home. I don’t believe that I ever saw a bracero feeling out of place, at least that was my concept, that’s what I felt, that it was like a family. They were all very respectful, I mean, I never saw anybody being disrespectful, you know, the bracero with the employee, or the employee with the bracero. FC: And what about among them? When they arrive in groups, let’s say from the same city, or even, you know, relatives, were they able to stay together? FG: Most of them. Most got together, they congregated in different groups, and you knew that this group was going to an area that was assigned, and they were together. FC: You said sometimes they spent the night, right there at the Rio Vista center. How would you describe the buildings for me? The Rio Vista center, how did it work? Like, they had buildings of the— FG: They had cots, I remember those cots, and they were barrack building type. FC: Next to the buildings that you work? FG: Yes, and the staying overnight was very limited, because most of them, as they arrived at the center, the processing was as fast as they could, and they already had the transportation available to send them out. FC: So most of them didn’t spend the night? FG: Um-hm. FC: And if they did, was it for a day? FG: Maybe a day. FC: Two? FG: A lot, two days. FC: Let’s say you worked there your shift, what if they close, the shift was over, and there were still people standing in line? FG: No, we had to work right through, that’s why I say we sometimes had twelve hour days. FC: So probably was up until the last bracero was processed. FG: Um-hm. FC: Okay. And once the braceros, you said they would first to Chihuahua. FG: They would arrive in Chihuahua, and from Chihuahua to Juárez, and from Juárez to El Paso. FC: How did the Rio Vista was prepared, like, the same number of braceros arriving every day or did you have an idea of how many people was going to be at the center that day? Let’s suppose, you— FG: Okay, I don’t think that I knew exactly what was going to [happen], because there were others, supervisors— FC: Yes, but did the supervisors have an idea of how many people? FG: I believe so. FC: What was the busiest time of day or was it the same? FG: It was the same. FC: So, how was the place you worked at when you [were a] clerk-typist at the Rio Vista center? Was it a room? How were the offices? FG: I just recall a long room, barrack type, a lot of desks, and men standing right in front of you, lines of men standing while you’re processing. FC: Oh, you would do them at your desk, the line of men? FG: Um-hm. FC: Were they supposed to sign any kind of documents? FG: Yes, you asked questions, and they reviewed whatever paperwork, they were signing papers. FC: Have you ever found a person who was not able to read or write at that time? FG: Yes. FC: In which case, how did they? FG: We had translators, well, we had to translate the whole contract, whatever they were signing at the time. FC: You say you don’t remember any, what about any anecdote from that time, from the braceros in general? FG: I can’t. FC: Because they were there almost all day, did they talk? FG: Some were singing, a group would have a guitar, and they would get together, and they would sing. They would say jokes. Some of them were very friendly. Some of them wanted to talk to you and tell you about their family back in Mexico or give you stories. FC: Oh, they actually wanted to share? FG: They did. You would see a group of men coming together, congregating, visiting, laughing, talking, singing, I mean, it was just an ongoing thing. Or you could see that they were very lonely and very, I guess, sad, because they left behind maybe for the first time. Sometime you could see them like— FC: They didn’t know what was going on. FG: Like, “Where am I going?” I mean, “How’s this going to end?” It was just a variety of people there. FC: What about the ones that you say, some of them, it wasn’t their first time as braceros? Did they ask to go to the same place? FG: Yes, definitely. Some of them made lasting friendship with their employers or worked well, but they wanted to go back to the same town or same farm. FC: Were you able to do it? FG: Yes, and that went through, like if they went through the El Paso Cotton Association, they already knew what employers needed what workers, so some of them were able to go back. FC: Let’s say the employer knows they are going to come back, why did they go back to Mexico, because their contract was ended? FG: Their contract expired. FC: Or some of them went for vacation? Have you heard? FG: No, it was mostly because their contract ended. FC: What about the holidays? Did you have braceros during the winter, during the summer, that time of year? FG: I think there were some of them that were working during the Christmas holidays or whatever, of course, I’m sure they were not working on the twenty-fourth, because their employers is not going to be watching them, or the twenty-fifth, but some that were too far, that were coming from very far places in Mexico, had to stay here. FC: But the Rio Vista center was open during that time, during the winter? All year-round, was it open? FG: Yes. FC: So, I would like to know some personal opinions you have of this. What do you think were the effects of the bracero program, here on the United States? FG: I believe that they were helping the economy of this country, as well as the business community with their buying power. FC: What do you think are the advantages and disadvantages of having the bracero program? FG: The advantages I saw is that they kept the agricultural business thriving, and because we were at that time in need of that help, and these workers were eager and ready to go to work, so they helped our economy. FC: Were they aware of the war situation going on in the United States? Did the braceros? FG: I’m sure they were, yes. FC: Do you think the bracero program should be revived? FG: I believe so, I think so, if we really want the agriculture, specially, to go back and to do well, I believe we need these men, because, like I said before, they were the ones that kept our agricultural afloat and not let it die. FC: Is there any final comment that you would like to do? Something you would like to add. FG: What I said before, and what I saw, many of them became our friends. They left the United States con un abrazo, que Dios los bendiga, y hasta pronto, and the same men were the ones who came back year after year, and establish good working relations and lasting friendship. FC: I would like to thank you very much for the opportunity to interview you and to share all of your memories with us. Thank you very much. FG: Thank you, I enjoyed this. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 41:42 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Garcia_Villalva_ELP021 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Flora García Villalva Subject The topic of the resource Department of Labor Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Flora Garcia Villalva was born in El Paso, Texas; she had two sisters and one brother, and together they grew up in the Lower Valley area of El Paso; her father owned a grocery store where many of his clients were braceros; while still attending Ysleta High School, she began working as a clerk and typist at Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas; she worked there from 1954 to 1958. Summary of Interview: Ms. Garcia remembers the grocery store her father owned and operated for thirty-five years; because the store was in an area where there were a number of cotton fields, many of their clients were braceros, with whom they developed a close relationship over time; her father had a friend who worked for the El Paso Cotton Association, and recommended her for a job at Rio Vista, a bracero processing center in Socorro, Texas, where she later became a clerk and typist; he also recommended her for a job with the Department of Labor; while working at Rio Vista, she would type and process the paperwork necessary for bracero contracts; each bracero would take at least thirty minutes to complete the papers with her; she gives a detailed description of the various procedures she was aware of and comments that there were several departments the braceros had to go through, including immigration, health, labor, and transportation; she worked there only during the summers from 1954 to 1958; later, while working at the Department of Labor, she recalls that inspectors often visited with the contractors to ensure that the working and living conditions for the braceros were up to standards. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Carrillo, Fernanda García Villalva, Flora Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-03-26 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Flora García Villalba creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Carrillo, Fernanda contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/reza_contreras_elp040_00d12a8eac.mp3 f5caf6e3045f6f9421814b43b910a521 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Carrillo, Fernanda Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Reza Contreras, Herminia Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 30:07 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Reza_Contreras_ELP040 description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Herminina Reza Contreras nació el 5 de mayo de 1920 en Douglas, Arizona; tenía ocho hermanos y hermanas; se mudaron a El Paso, Texas cuando ella tenía trece años de edad por el empleo del padre en los ferrocarriles. En 1951 comenzó a trabajar para el servicio de inmigraciones; más adelante, en 1953, obtuvo un empleo en el Ministerio de Trabajo y se quedó allí hasta 1963, ambos trabajos estaban estrechamente involucrados con el Programa Bracero. Resumen de la Entrevista: La Sra. Reza evoca brevemente su niñez; cuando tenía trece años se trasladó con su familia de Douglas, Arizona, a El Paso, Texas. En 1951 comenzó a trabajar para el servicio de inmigraciones, donde se relacionaba constantemente con los braceros; su jefe le recomendó presentarse para un empleo en el Ministerio de Trabajo, lo cual hizo en 1953; le asignaron un cargo en las oficinas administrativas de Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas. Ofrece una descripción detallada de las instalaciones, las oficinas y los procedimientos pertinentes; su principal responsabilidad era supervisar el aspecto contractual del programa; estaba a cargo de asegurarse que se obtuvieran todos los permisos correspondientes, de modo que los agricultores y los rancheros pudieran contratar a los braceros y, además, que se recibiera la cantidad de dinero adecuada a cada contrato. Los empleadores provenían principalmente de Arizona, Colorado, Nuevo México, Texas y Wyoming; menciona también los nombres de varios empleados con quienes trabajó, incluyendo al Sr. Carlos Corella; continuó trabajando para el Ministerio de trabajo hasta 1963. Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Herminia Reza Contreras creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Carrillo, Fernanda contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Carrillo, Fernanda Reza Contreras, Herminia Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-03-18 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Herminina Reza Contreras was born on May 5, 1920, in Douglas, Arizona; she had eight brothers and sisters; because her father worked for the railroads, her family moved to El Paso, Texas, when she was thirteen years old; in 1951, she began working with immigration services; later, in 1953, she went to work for the Department of Labor, and stayed there until 1963; both jobs entailed working closely with the bracero program. Summary of Interview: Ms. Reza briefly recounts her childhood; when she was thirteen years old, she moved with her family from Douglas, Arizona to El Paso, Texas; in 1951, she began working with immigration services, where she was in constant contact with braceros; her boss recommended that she look for work with the Department of Labor, and later, in 1953, she did; while there, she worked for the administrative offices of Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas; she provides a detailed description of the buildings and offices and of the processing procedures; her primary responsibility was to oversee the contracting aspect of the program; she was in charge of making sure the appropriate permits were in place in order for farmers and ranchers to hire braceros and that the proper amount of money for the contracts was received as well; the contractors were primarily from Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, and Wyoming; in addition, she mentions the names of several employees she worked with, including Mr. Carlos Corella [See also No. XX]; she continued to work for the Department of Labor until 1963. Language A language of the resource eng Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Department of Labor Title A name given to the resource Herminia Reza Contreras https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/reveles_gutierrez_elp024_5e2ec0ebca.mp3 1d4ff01ebd5985a3c3f314164a4e1070 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Lily Gutiérrez nació en El Paso, Texas el 5 de octubre de 1935; su padre era carnicero profesional y dueño de varias tiendas de alimentos; su madre era ama de casa; tenía cuatro hermanos y dos hermanas. Luego de casarse se trasladó a Pecos, Texas, donde comenzó a trabajar para la oficina de Trans Pecos Cotton Association como empleada administrativa y dactilógrafa desde 1955 hasta 1957. Resumen de la Entrevista: La Sra. Gutiérrez recuerda que conoció a su esposo en la universidad, luego de casarse, en 1955, se mudaron a Pecos, Texas donde comenzó a trabajar para Trans Pecos Cotton Association como empleada administrativa y mecanógrafa. Hace una comparación de esta asociación con Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas; su trabajo consistía en completar los documentos necesarios y los contratos para los braceros; La Asociación era responsable del Condado de Reeves y Pecos; periódicamente iban inspectores del Ministerio de Trabajo que verificaban que se les diera a los braceros la vivienda adecuada, hasta tenían representantes del consulado mexicano que acudían para gestionar todas las quejas o preocupaciones en torno a los braceros. Continúa ofreciendo una descripción general de las instalaciones, así como de los distintos procedimientos por los que debían pasar los braceros, comenta también que durante los fines de semana era común ver a los braceros en el pueblo comprando provisiones o yendo a la iglesia. Los braceros y los mexicoamericanos eran a menudo blanco de discriminación por parte de los habitantes del pueblo. subject (Spanish) Trans Pecos Cotton Association Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Carrillo, Fernanda Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Gutierrez, Lily Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of Interviewee: Lily Gutierrez Date of Interview: April 7, 2003 Name of Interviewer: Fernanda Carrillo This is an interview with Mrs. Lily Gutierrez, on April 7, 2003, in El Paso, Texas. The interviewer is Fernanda Carrillo. This interview is part of the Bracero Oral History Project. FC: Good morning, ma’am. LG: Good morning. FC: What is your full name, ma’am, please? LG: My name is Lily Gutierrez. FC: When and where were your born, ma’am? LG: I was born in El Paso. FC: The date, ma’am, please? LG: 10-5-35. FC: And did you grow up here? LG: Yes, I went to school here. I went to Ascarate School, Ysleta High School, and I went to Texas Western for a couple of years, and went on to the University of Houston, and then I went back to UTEP [University of Texas at El Paso]. FC: To finish your bachelor’s degree. And is your family from El Paso, ma’am? LG: Yes, in fact, my great-grandfather was one of the first, I would venture to say, farmworkers, because he owned the land here, and El Paso was Mexico at that time. He had a land grant from Mexico. FC: So, you’ve been in the area for a long, long time? LG: Yes, for a long time. FC: Do you have brothers and sisters? LG: Yes, I have four brothers and two sisters. FC: None of them worked for the bracero project or anything in anyway? LG: No. FC: What about your parents? Were there— LG: My father was a butcher, by profession, and a businessman, he owned grocery stores. FC: What about your mother? LG: My mother was a homemaker. FC: When did you start working with the bracero program? LG: When I married my husband. I met him at Texas Western. He was from Pecos, and he chose to go back to Pecos for a little while, and, of course, I had to go with him. By the time I got to Pecos, he had very nicely acquired me a job at the Trans Pecos Cotton Association, which was, I presume, had a government entity, a connection with the government, because we had government guidelines to follow, and it had to be adhered to. FC: So, this association was— LG: It was like Rio Vista, it was basically the same thing. We had an inspector from the Department of Labor come and check the housing and to make sure— FC: So, you actually had housing, too, for the braceros? LG: Oh, yes. All the farmers were required to provide housing for the braceros, and they had to be, you know, there were requirements, I mean, it had to have a roof and four door, believe or not, some people didn’t, they don’t always provide that kind of housing. It had to have a floor, doors, and windows, and I’m sure other things, I can’t remember. So, we had the inspector from the Department of Labor come often. We also had one of the consuls from the Mexican consulate out of El Paso. FC: Was he present at all times, ma’am? LG: No. He came periodically to visit, and any bracero who had a complaint, a request, or a desire to speak to him, for whatever private reasons they might have, were told of his coming, and they would line up at the fence of the Pecos Cotton Association, and he would visit with them. FC: How old were you, ma’am, when you started working for the Trans Pecos Cotton Association? LG: I was twenty-one. FC: What years did you work at Pecos? LG: My recollection, it’s been a long time, but I think I worked since I got there in 1955 to 1957 or ’58, I’m not sure. FC: Would you please describe your role there at the Trans Pecos? LG: My job was to, along with my co-worker, Lois Vasquez, who was my supervisor; I was to help in the processing of every farmworker that came into Pecos. The Trans Pecos Cotton Association covered two counties, Reeves and Pecos County. So, I was speaking to my colleague the other day, and she and I ventured that there were at least twenty-five thousand braceros came through. FC: Through the Pecos? LG: Yes, it’s a guess, but I think it’s a pretty fair guess, because there were hundreds and hundreds. The farmers came from Pecos County and Reeves County, Coyanosa and Pecos, and all those other small towns. FC: It covered a pretty large area. Do you know when the Trans Pecos Cotton Association started? LG: No, it was there before I got there, but I do know someone that you could speak to. FC: Oh, okay, perfect, thank you. What was the purpose of the Trans Pecos Cotton Association? I don’t understand. Was it something like the Rio Vista Center? LG: Yes. The whole idea was that the government allowed so many farmworkers to come to an area to help the farmers do the harvesting, you know. In Pecos and Reeves County it was cotton, okay, and it was a contract that they had, they contracted with farmworkers and each farmworker would say, “I’ll take two hundred workers. I’ll provide housing and so many other benefits.” Then at the end of their term of working, at the end of the contract that the bracero had, he would have an immigrant visa to come and work, a working visa, a specific working visa, I don’t know, I think they were called H-1 or H-2. FC: So, after let’s say, a bracero came, and they worked on a farm for a certain period of time. LG: Right, from September to November, then they were, of course, they had to go back. FC: Oh, okay, to Mexico? LG: To Mexico. It was only a— FC: Seasonal. LG: Right, so many months visa. And the farmers were responsible for the workers, they were placed in their care, you know, as I said, they had to provide food, not food, but the braceros cooked their own food, they went and bought their own food, from my recollection. FC: Oh, so they were able to leave, actually, the facilities of the ranch and go out. LG: Pecos was a small town or is a small town, it’s even smaller now, but back then, it was a town of like fifteen thousand people, and it’s a agricultural based town. The braceros, on the weekend, they would flood downtown, because they had a weekend off, and so everywhere you went, the grocery stores, the post office, they were there, buying at JCPenny’s or Woolworth’s or whatever, they were there. FC: Oh, and you actually saw them in your days during the week? LG: Oh, yeah. My co-worker, Lois, and I were the only Spanish-speaking staff there, so we were the lucky ones, we got to talk to them. FC: Were you required to speak Spanish to work there? LG: No, no, I mean, I don’t remember anybody asking me, “Do you speak Spanish?” No, no, I think they liked the idea that they could get people that could speak Spanish. Lois and I were the ones that had all these great conversations with the workers who came in, and we did the actual processing, and they would tell us where they were from. We had some very interesting conversations. FC: So, let me see if I understand, the workers were, they come from Mexico? LG: From all over Mexico. FC: And I’m assuming from the recruiting center in Chihuahua, let’s just say. How did they got to Pecos? LG: Buses, yes, I believe they came through El Paso. They might have come through Rio Grande. What was the one? FC: The Rio Vista? LG: No, no back here, another small town, where they could cross as well, but my recollection is that they came from El Paso in buses. And we had a fellow, I remember his name, Oscar Hawkins, not Oscar, Orson Hawkins, who spoke Spanish fluently, I mean, he was the one that would bring them. FC: He was in charge. LG: He would bring them, and then when their time was up, he would take them back, back to the border. FC: Mr. Hawkins picked them up at the border, and take them? LG: I don’t really know exactly how that happened. I do know that they had to come across the border and show their immigrant visa. So I presume that he picked them up at the border or he might have picked them at the, I don’t think at the detention center, no, I don’t think so. It must have been, maybe it was Rio Vista, maybe he picked them up from Rio Vista. FC: They, the braceros, had to go through the process in Rio Vista first, in order to go to Pecos? LG: I couldn’t say for sure, but I can tell you who would know. FC: Oh, okay. I have another question. At the time that they arrived at the Trans Pecos Cotton Association, they already have forms, like, ID forms, or visas, or something they had to show you? LG: They did. They had their permit, and it was our job to do what we call it, a number card. Every immigrant has a name number that’s either on their immigrant visa or their file at INS [Immigration and Naturalization Service], so we would do a card on them and the assignment to the farmer. You know, like, Mr. Holsher needed two hundred workers, so it was our job to assign ‘em. FC: They got there in groups, and then you seperated them. LG: Right, depending on, we gave them a meal, they ate, and then we did the processing. FC: And after that they left? LG: Well, the farmworker came to pick them up. I think he came to pick them up, either he came to pick ‘em, I remember cotton people coming in trucks, they would climb in the back. You have to remember my recollections, it’s been a few years. FC: What about if a bracero came? You did, like, a contract or something, but the contractor wasn’t there to pick them up that very same day? Do you have— LG: Well, I think they had a really good system where the farmer knew when a group was coming for him to pick up, because they were all very anxious. There’s only a certain amount of harvesting time for cotton and so forth. FC: Was this processing done inside a building? LG: Yes, I was inside that building; we had a building, a fairly large building. FC: Would you describe the facilities, please? LG: I don’t remember too well. I just remember a big building, very nice, actually a nice building, I don’t mean a fancy building, let’s say it was more utilitarian than it was attractive. That’s all I can remember, frankly. FC: Was it located in downtown Pecos? LG: No, it was, more or less, off of one of the highways where the farming areas were, it was not in the middle, it wasn’t downtown at all. FC: You said, well, your offices, where you would do the clerical work, you also had a kitchen or something, I assume? LG: Oh, yes, we had a kitchen. FC: What other offices operated there? LG: We had a director whose name I remember is Bob Cherrill, I think he just passed away. FC: Bob? LG: Cherrill, C-H-E-R-R-I-L-L, very nice man. Then we had other staff people. There were at least three or four other women. FC: Doing the same kind of job you— LG: Yes, or doing maybe some of the other processing, because I told you, Lois and I basically did the processing, because we were the ones that spoke Spanish. FC: Okay, so you would talk to the braceros and fill out a form or something? LG: Right. FC: The contract you would say? LG: It was, no, we called an eight card, an eight number. FC: Okay, what was the information in this card? What did you have to ask? LG: Well, it was their names, date of birth, place of birth, and I can’t remember what else. FC: Did you ask them to give you any proof of identification? LG: Oh, they all had their permanent record. They had all been, they were there, because they had gone through INS already. FC: Oh, okay, so they already had all their— LG: Our job was not to do the reviewing of immigration documents, other than only to put them into our database that we had. We didn’t have computers back then. FC: No, just typewriters. Did the Trans Pecos Cotton Association work year-round? Was it open all year? LG: Yeah, I know that we worked, I worked there for two years, so I must have— FC: It wasn’t a seasonal job. You worked there— LG: Oh, yeah, I worked there all the time. FC: Was it a part-time job or a full-time job? LG: No, it was a full-time job. FC: It was a full-time job, but you mentioned that September and November were like— LG: That was the season and when the cotton was harvested, but then there’s other thing to do besides the harvesting. FC: The other months of the year. How many applicants would you say there were on a given day? Like how many you— You filled out the forms for all of them, you and your colleague, Lois? So, how many would you say you had? LG: I have no idea. FC: You say you fill out the forms for all of them, right? LG: Well, I don’t know. They would bring them on busloads, so that would be, you know, I haven’t thought about all these things, so I haven’t given it much thought, as to the numbers. I would say that we’d have two or three busloads a day. I’m sure there were other crops that they might have picked, like there were onions, and Coyanosa is also a farming area that farms a lot of, harvests a lot of onions. So, I’m not sure what other, I’m trying to, my recollection tells me basically it was cotton. FC: Okay, maybe it was cotton; maybe there will be others. You mentioned that besides the staff from the Trans Pecos Cotton Association, you have inspectors from the Department of Labor as well as the Mexican consulate, which wasn’t, you said, he wasn’t present all the time? LG: No, he came from El Paso. FC: How often would you say that he— LG: I think he was there pretty often. You know, I, we’d get to know them very well. FC: He was able to be present at the offices [where] asking the braceros? LG: Yeah, and many asked to speak to him directly. As I said, either they had a complaint, or they wanted him to do some connection with his family and their family in Mexico, or they just wanted to speak to him for whatever personal reasons they might have, which he did. He was very good at— FC: Oh, so he was very good with listening. And after you filled out the form, well, first the meal, then you fill out the form for them, the number card, then the farmers would pick them up and take them to each farm or work place. And when they finish the contract, let’s say, it was from September to November or any given time, did they have to go back to your offices, like to sign a paper saying they finished the contract? LG: You know, they might have, I don’t remember, but they might have. FC: But you didn’t— LG: I don’t remember doing that, but we had other staff people who did that. You must know that some had, there were accidents, some died, and some either maybe got run over by a car or some fell off the truck. FC: Oh, some of the braceros? LG: Yeah, they had some accidents, not, you know, like anything else. We had a doctor on staff. I remember his name was Dr. Del Campo. FC: So, he was there permanently? LG: Yes, anybody that became ill, we took them to the Pecos clinic, Pecos Valley Clinic. Dr. Schmidt was the doctor there. FC: So, any farm [where] they got injured or anyplace they would go to this clinic? LG: They’d go to the clinic or sometimes the doctor would see them, but basically, if anything happened to them. FC: Do you remember some accidents that might had happened? LG: I remember a fella falling off the truck. FC: The ones that were supposed to take them to there. LG: Yeah, he somehow or another, I don’t know how it happened that he fell off the truck, and he became, he was injured. But you know, they sometimes cut themselves or something happened to them and— FC: Were there, besides the medical attention that the association provided, were they insured? Did they have any health insurance? LG: I don’t think so. I think that, you know, this is just my recollection okay, I cannot really tell you for sure that this is the way it happened. But I’m thinking that that was part of the government contract that we had, that we were to provide medical help for them if they so needed it. I don’t think they were there long term. I don’t know how long they were there, you know, but I don’t think that, I don’t remember anybody required being in the hospital for a long length of time, at least while I was there. FC: Great. You say also that some inspectors from the Department of Labor go to the association. What was their job? LG: Their job was to see that the farmers were complying with the requirements that had been set forth in the contract. FC: What were those requirements? LG: Like I told you before, proper housing, at least proper according to what had been agreed. FC: Which mainly was to have? LG: A decent place to live. FC: Were the farmers required to provide the meals during the day? LG: I don’t think so. I think that they had, they could get their own food, they could bring their own food, because like I told you, I saw them at Safeway buying huge, huge sacks of flour and beans, and stuff like that. So, I’m assuming they could cook their own food. FC: So, you mentioned that during the weekends, when they had their days off, it was very common to saw them in town? LG: In town, it was very common. Everybody knew, in fact, a lot of the local people would do their shopping during the week, because they knew it would be very crowded in the Safeway or at JCPenny’s, wherever it is they were buying. They bought Levi’s, they bought, you know, they spent their money. Actually, they were very, they were a boom to the Pecos community. They sent money home, but they also spent money. They would buy things for their wives, like tablecloths, things that, dishtowels. FC: So they actually did spend their money there? LG: Oh, yeah, some money. FC: What about the entertainment centers, like restaurants, and bars, and movies? LG: We had a lot of them, I mean, Pecos was very small. They might have been, they had a few bars, they might have gone to the bars. I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t frequent those. (interviewer laughs) But I know they were in town all the time. We had movies and you have to know, Pecos was a little bit of a, of a, not a little bit, quite a bit, very discriminatory. So, I don’t think they had access to go everyplace, like the theater. Mexican Americans who lived there, weren’t even, before I got there, weren’t even allowed to sit on the first floor of the theater. FC: Not even the Mexican Americans? LG: Not even the Mexican Americans who lived there. (telephone rings) FC: Okay, so you were saying Pecos was very discriminatory town back then. LG: Back then, yeah. So, I’m sure there were places they weren’t allowed to go, but it’s not like it had a whole bunch of places you’d want to go to. They didn’t have a whole bunch of restaurants, they had one theater, and I think they had Spanish-speaking theater, I think they probably would have been allowed to go to that. FC: Okay, what about the post office? LG: The post office, I mean, anybody, it’s a federal building, so everybody, they went to the post office a lot sometimes. FC: Well, yeah, because they send their— LG: They send their mail, they send their money orders. FC: What about a church? Do you remember, were they allowed? LG: Yes, we had Santa Rosa Church, which was where most Mexican Americans [went]. The priests there were always very helpful, they opened the doors to them. FC: Oh, okay, so they were able to. Where did you live while you were working at the Trans Pecos? LG: I lived on— FC: Was it close to you workplace? LG: Well, it was not a very big town; it took, like, about ten minutes to get to work. FC: Did you drive? LG: Yes, I drove. FC: What were your normal hours? LG: I think they were, like, from 8:30 AM to 5:00 PM. FC: Your weekly schedule, was it Monday through Friday? LG: Uh-hm. FC: Would you please describe a typical workday at the Trans Pecos? LG: I don’t remember a typical workday. I wish I could be more helpful to you, but I just remember going to work there. FC: But you had to, like, first, you’d get there, and you did the same things all day long? LG: No, we had different assignments. I remember if there were farmers, if the braceros were there, of course, our job was the process them, but we had other work to do. That’s what I can’t remember, what it was. FC: Mostly clerical filing? LG: Yes. FC: Do you remember any particular incident while working there, you know, or conversations with the braceros? LG: Well, they would ask us things, like, they want to buy something, like, a dress for their wives, where could they buy it. One thing that impressed me most was one time seeing a bracero walk downtown with a sewing machine, one of those old pedal ones, like, made out of iron, he was carrying it on his back, he was determined to get it home. FC: He was going to take it back? LG: He bought it to take it home to his wife. They were people who had families, and this was a good opportunity for them to come and make a little money. It was certainly more than what they had at home. It allowed them to better their lives a little bit. It was a good idea, the bracero program, because the farmers benefit tremendously from having them, workers, there, workers who were, who wanted to work. So, they benefit tremendously. The bracero benefited, because he had work, and he got paid for it. FC: Do you remember, like, the minimum wage that they established in the contracts back then? LG: No, I don’t. FC: Did they have a minimum wage? LG: No, I think they had a set amount of money that was paid to them, either per day, obviously they were paid either weekly or every other week, or something, because they were in town all the time, so they had money. The city of Pecos also benefited from it, because it helped with the economy. So, you see, to me, it was an excellent program. I always thought that that’s the way they should do it. The U.S.A. is always looking for farmworkers, and the people in the United States don’t want to work in the farms. FC: True. So, the people was mostly, when they got there, the braceros and everything, were they, what was their attitude to come to work in the United States? LG: Oh, they were happy, they were happy for the opportunity. They often talked about their families, and how they would help them, how they would send the money home. FC: At the beginning, the first time they were there, how were they dressed? LG: They, well, they were just dressed, I mean, they didn’t have the best clothes, they were wearing whatever they had, that’s why I told you they were buying Levi’s and shirts. FC: Once they were there. LG: And shoes, good shoes they could wear out in the field. FC: Were they allowed to go back to the association in case they had any, while working there in Pecos, for any complaints, or questions, or doubts? LG: Yeah, because, like I told you, they could make, they could ask to come in and talk to the consul. FC: So, they had to go to the association in order to do that? LG: Well, they would actually just tell the farmer, and the farmer would just let them come in, bring them in. You know, I don’t remember hearing that they were ever mistreated; I’m not saying that there weren’t any mistreatments. I think the farmers there were just glad to have workers help them with their harvesting, but there might have been, I don’t know. FC: Did you ever hear about the farm contractors not complying to the requirements? LG: Yeah, well, they did, and there were some, I’m sure that they did, and then they were told they couldn’t have anymore workers if they— FC: Oh, if they didn’t. Did they give them a chance to correct much of the problems? LG: I’m sure if it was something minor that they could give them the opportunity, but I think the Department of Labor was very strict about this is the contract we have with Mexico and the United States, and we want it to work, if you’re not interested in doing the right thing, then it would have been a big loss to the farmer, because there were no workers. So, most of them I know tried very hard to comply. Yeah, when they didn’t, they were told what they had to do. FC: What about the braceros? Were they allowed to come back the next season? Did they? LG: I’m trying to remember if they were allowed to do that, I think they were, because I remember some of them, some of the farmworkers saying, “Well, we’d like to have these guys back.” FC: Oh, okay, so they were able to say. What about the braceros? They could say, “I want to go back to this farm that I work.” LG: Yeah, they did, they did do that. I don’t know what the process was, what they applied at INS again, but I’m telling you, I know someone that could answer all these questions for you. FC: Great. When you were there, do you remember any incidents, good or bad, from people from Pecos, saying about the braceros, about having all these people here working for them? LG: Well, the businesspeople liked it, because it was good for them, but I think sometimes the people of Pecos would get frustrated, because they were everywhere, especially on the weekend. But, it’s a farming community, so they recognize farmers, farmworkers as farmworkers. They knew they were from Mexico, and actually, I even think some of them, when they finally were able to immigrate, wanted to go live in Pecos. FC: Oh, okay, to stay there? LG: Yeah, a lot of the people that lived in Pecos were from some part of Mexico, they were immigrants themselves. FC: What is your personal opinion about the bracero program? LG: I think it’s an excellent program, like I was telling you before, that it helps everyone involved, it makes for good relationships between Mexico and the United States, it helps the farmer harvest his crops, it helps the bracero earn some capital, so that he can take it home to his family, it helps the economy of the town or the city, wherever this bracero program is taking place. I think it would be a very great program to have today. FC: So you think it’s good, the idea to revive it? LG: Yeah, I think it is. From my experience working with immigrants, I think that most immigrants only want to come to the United States, because they can make a better living than they do at home, not because they think the United States is the most wonderful place to live, but because that’s the place to make a living. FC: So they can send the money back to their families. LG: Send it back home. So, this would, I think, stop some of the illegal immigration to a certain extent, because it would allow people to come in and work on contracts. At the end of the term, they could go back home, and we’re all better off, they take their money home, we’ve got our work done. FC: After working for the Trans Pecos Association, would you say it might be ’57, ’58, when you stopped working there? LG: Uh-huh. FC: Did you have any contact later on with the braceros? LG: It was really strange, because that was actually the beginning of my work in dealing with immigration, with immigrants and refugees. When I left Pecos, and I came back to work here— FC: Oh, you came back to El Paso? LG: Yes, I came to work for the migrant, there was a migrant program that was funded by the government, that was to get migrants out of the migrant way of living, in the sense that, try to find them a job here, so they wouldn’t have to leave their home and go out, and to other towns and cities and pick apples, or whatever vegetables, or whatever. So, I trained people to provide some kind of training for these migrants. Then from there, I went to work in helping immigrants and refugees. FC: Is there anything else you would like to add regarding the time you worked with the bracero program that you got involved? LG: I hold that program in my mind; it’s a good memory, because the people that came from Mexico to work were very decent people. I think they were happy to be here once. FC: I would like to thank you very much for the interview, for the opportunity of sharing your memories with us. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 36:28 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Reveles_Gutierrez_ELP024 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lily Gutiérrez Reveles Subject The topic of the resource Trans Pecos Cotton Association Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Lily Gutierrez was born in El Paso, Texas, on October 5, 1935; her father was a professional butcher who owned several grocery stores, and her mother was a homemaker; she had four brothers and two sisters; after getting married, she moved to Pecos, Texas, where she began working for the Trans Pecos Cotton Association as a clerk and typist from 1955 to 1957. Summary of Interview: Ms. Gutierrez recalls that she met her husband while in college; after getting married, in 1955, they moved to Pecos, Texas, where she began working for the Trans Pecos Cotton Association as a clerk and typist; she compares the association to Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas; it was her job to fill out the necessary paperwork and contracts for the braceros; the association was responsible for Reeves and Pecos County; inspectors from the Department of Labor would often check to verify that adequate housing was provided for the braceros; they even had representatives from the Mexican consulate periodically arriving to handle any complaints or concerns on behalf of the braceros; she provides a general description of the facilities as well as the various procedures the workers went through; in addition, she comments that on the weekends it was common to see braceros in town buying groceries or going to church; braceros and Mexican-Americans were often discriminated against by the people in town. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Carrillo, Fernanda Gutiérrez Reveles, Lily Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-07 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Lily Gutierrez creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Carrillo, Fernanda contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/cheatum_elp012_2cb1727f80.mp3 46329c70907d31b88c26400057afefdb Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Carrillo, Fernanda Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Cheatum, Minerva Christine Ann Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of Interviewee: Minerva Cheatum Date of Interview: April 3, 2003 Name of Interviewer: Fernanda Carrillo This is an interview with Minerva Cheatum, on April 3, 2003, in El Paso, Texas. The interviewer is Fernanda Carrillo. This interview is part of the Bracero Oral History Project. FC: Good afternoon ma’am. What is your full name? MC: Minerva Christine Ann Cheatum. FC: When and where were you born, ma’am? MC: I was born in El Paso, at the old Providence Hospital, which is now under the freeway. FC: (laughs) Did you grow up here? MC: I grew up in Clint. I lived in El Paso for forty-nine, forty-eight days [before] my mother died, over in Sunset Heights. You know where the Sunset Grocery is? FC: Yes. MC: My parents lived in the apartments over it, over Sunset Grocery. FC: You lived there only for forty-eight days and then— MC: Then I lived in a nursery for six months. From there, they brought me here to Clint, to my paternal grandparents. FC: Your grandparents live here? MC: They were supposed to, I was supposed to stay here until my dad remarried. My father remarried nine years later and moved to California. I stayed with my grandparents. FC: What schools did you attend during that time? MC: I went to Clint schools. I graduated from Clint High School. FC: And college? Where? MC: I went to UTEP [University of Texas at El Paso]. FC: Did you graduate? (both talking at once) MC: Back then it was Western College. First, it was Texas Western College. Then I went to it again, but it was already UTEP. I didn’t graduate. I just attended. FC: How many years did you— MC: Two years. FC: What were you planning to study? MC: First, I was trying to go for business, and then I changed my major to linguistics. I didn’t finish that. I’m thinking of going back and maybe taking a course in management. FC: That would be great. When did you start to work at the Rio Vista center? MC: When I graduated from high school I was going on to college. Due to certain circumstances, my grandparents were going to move to El Paso so I would be close to college. I did not want them to sell their home, because they both were used to living in the country. City life was just not for them. A cousin of mine told me that they had job openings at Rio Vista as a temporary employee. I went and applied, and I got the job as a clerk-typist. FC: How old were you at the time, ma’am? MC: I was eighteen. FC: You applied, and was it a part-time job? MC: It was a W (unintelligible), what they called whenever they needed or whatever. FC: During what period of the year? MC: I started in August of ’57. FC: How many years did you work? MC: I worked on and off till 1960—let’s see, 1961, ’62, because they closed up in either ’63 or ’64 was the last year that they contracted braceros, but they had been contracting since, I think, the forties. I’m not quite sure. I know that my grandfather had a farm, and he had braceros. I think he had them contracted, because they got them from the El Paso Valley—what was it—El Paso Valley—I thought about it yesterday—Cotton Association? El Paso Valley Farmers? El Paso Valley something. You see what happens is when they would bring the braceros in, and they went through the process, then they would have them in the camp area. Then farmers, groups would come in, like from Pecos, it was an organization, Pecos Farmers Association. I don’t remember what the names exactly were. They would bring them in, and they would call them on the microphone, on the PA system. They would say, “We need so many men for Pecos. We need so many men for El Paso Valley. We need so many men for the Holly Sugar in Colorado.” All of these men would go over there, and there would be people from that association that would choose their people. They said, “Okay, we want you and you and you.” Then they would go through the contracting process. By that time, they would get into the buses. They would be contracted to wherever they were told they were going to go. That’s what we did, the contractors. FC: Would you please describe your role as a clerk-typist? MC: What we did there in that department. Let me tell you a little bit about what I understand that they started. They [braceros] came in, and they would put a powder, because a lot of them had traveled so much, they had fleas. They would spray them, and then from there they would go into public health. They would get blood tests and x-rays. From there, they would go on and would get fingerprinted and have their pictures taken. They would go to contracting, which is what we would do. We would take the paperwork that they had, the 345, what I was telling you about. FC: Would you please describe what the 345 was? MC: The 345, I understand, was a permit that they would give them from Mexico. They would give it to them in Chihuahua, so they could cross the border and come to work. Once they had that, they were here at the center. When they got to contracting, we would take the 345, the paperwork, and whatever information they had. What we would do is type the contract, which would say their name, their beneficiary, and who their wife was, because sometimes the beneficiary and the wife were not the same. A lot of times what they would do, a lot of them would buy their 345s from Mexico. Usually somebody would get one and I would get the other one, and it would be all right. I mean they were better kept off. Sometimes I would get them, and I would say, “What is your name?” I would type it. Then maybe two or three guys came through, and I would say, “What’s your name?” He would give me the same name as the one I had just gotten. I would say, “Wait a minute, who is your wife?” Sometimes they wouldn’t even think about it. They would be one right after the other, and they would say, “Well, so and so.” I would say, “Who are your parents and where were you born?” [The answers] were exactly the same. We had that information written in their papers, but we had to ask them all that information, and I would end up like, “Okay, wait a minute. They are exactly [the same]. Which is the original, and which is the one that bought the paper?” I would notify immigration or immigration would find out, and they would ask them, you know, which was which. Sometimes they would let the original, the one that it really was, go. Sometimes they would deport both of them. That’s the risk that they would take. They would just do that. Once they got through the contracting and typing, then they would go through another department, which was also in contracting. Their papers were separated and filed. From there, they would go to immigration, and immigration would process them with their paperwork. From there, that was it. They would go to transportation where they would be transported on the buses to wherever they were going to go. FC: To the places they were going to work? MC: That were assigned to them. FC: I have a question. Was the 345 permit the only kind of identification you asked for? MC: That was what we asked for, but they usually had other paperwork. Mostly, it was the 345 that we would get the information from. That’s what told us more or less all the information that we needed. Of course, they had gone through the other processors so they had some paperwork, but mostly that. FC: Was the screening process done inside a building? MC: They were done inside the buildings. You know how Rio Vista was done in a series of buildings like a horseshoe? Okay, they would start, as you are facing it, on the right side. They would go into the building on the right, and they would start processing. They would go completely around the horseshoe. The last building on the right side, or as you are looking at it on the left side, would be transportation. By that time, they did not go through the buildings. They would be processed at transportation, and they would be told which buses they would ride. FC: The whole process took like a day? MC: No, not a day. It would take maybe an hour or an hour and a half for them to go through completely. Once they got all their paperwork done and were at the camp, they would call them to see which ones were going where. Then they would load them on the buses. FC: Did it ever happen that somebody had to stay the night right there at Rio Vista? MC: Oh, yes. There were times when they spent a week without being contracted, because they all wanted to go to Holly Sugar in Colorado, because they paid very good. Pecos was the one that paid the least, so nobody wanted to go there. They had to raise cantaloupes. The pay was very low there in Pecos. They said, “We need one hundred and fifty men for Pecos.” You would get the men who hadn’t been there and were not experienced, and they had to really kind of push the people to go. When they said Holly Sugar, everybody ran up there. You could see the whole camp. I would say, “Oh, they’re contracting for Holly Sugar,” because you could see them all running. They had a place there also, at the end, where they had the food. They would serve them three meals a day. FC: They served them food? MC: They fed them three meals a day, and when they were leaving, they would give them a sack lunch, but most of them would eat it before the buses would leave. You would see all the little bags of chips and bags of food, the empty bags of food. We would say, “God, they didn’t even leave the camp before they ate their lunch.” (both laugh) FC: Were you able to eat at the same place? MC: We could eat there, but we usually took our lunch. We usually took our sack lunch there or we used to go out to eat. We used to go from there to Carmen’s Café, in Ysleta, and we had an hour for lunch. It was terrible, because we used to get five, six, or seven girls in each car and take off to go to Carmen’s Café. We had already called our orders in, and by the time we got there everything was ready. You know, we would just eat, gobble our food, and get back. Most of the time, it would be best if we took our lunch. FC: Was it only girls who worked as clerk-typists? MC: No, it was girls and men. There were a lot of men that worked there, but mostly it was girls at contracting. Most of them were girls who knew how to type. Of course, our supervisors were mostly retired military that had gotten jobs with the government. They had tried to encourage me to get a job with the government to file or to go take the test for a full time job with the government. I just procrastinated and said, “No, I don’t think I want to stay.” Because I felt that they would not send me to work there, because it was a temporary job, and they would send me to work at Fort Bliss or White Sands, and all that, and I just didn’t want to go that far away to work. I worked there in ’57 and ’58. In ’59, I went to work for a doctor. I got married in ’60, so I worked there [Rio Vista] in ’60 to ’61, and with the children, it was good, because you worked so many months on and so many months off. I was one of the fortunate ones when I started working there. It was only a six weeks job, and that was it, but I was one of the lucky ones that stayed, because when they come back, we had to reprocess them [braceros] as they came back so that they could go back to Mexico. In other words, we had to account for all the people that left. FC: Okay, not only on the way in the country, but also— MC: We had an office there for the Mexican consul and his vice-consul, and of course, we had the head offices there for the contracting. And we had to make sure, we had to account for all the people that had gone to make sure they hadn’t got hurt, ended up in hospitals, gotten killed, or something. We had to account for the people that left. We had to make sure that the people that left came back and returned to Mexico. I understand that when they [Bracero Program] started in the forties, it was because of the lack of people to work in the fields here. Like I said, my grandfather had a few [braceros]. That was when I was in junior high school, so they started in the forties. FC: Do you remember some of them working on your grandfather’s farm? MC: Yes. I remember them working there. I remember one of them broke his foot, and he couldn’t work. [He] finally he went back to Mexico. It was a loss for the farmer, because the farmer could say nothing. If a man would have to go back to Mexico, he [the farmer] would have to pay again and contract another person. In other words, the farmer would lose what he had paid. FC: What about the bracero that got injured? How did he get back to Mexico? MC: He got back to Mexico through the government. The United States had insurance on all of them, so the farmers all had insurance on the workers. Anytime that they got hurt, they were taken care of completely. Mexico asked the United States government [to provide] good housing for them [braceros]. They had to have inside plumbing, which a lot of families here in the town did not have, but all the braceros were supposed to have inside plumbing, and they had to have a good home. They had to have something that was pretty decent, nothing that they would be staying outside in a barn. Their homes had to be in good living condition. They had to make sure that they had plenty of food, and if they got hurt, they had hospitalization or whatever they needed. FC: You say most of them were insured. Was there an insurance company at the Rio Vista Center or how did they— MC: I think it was through, each organization had insurance. I’m sure Rio Vista did too, but like I said, it was through the Mexican government. We did have a consul there who was always watching and looking out for his people, the Mexican people. FC: Was he able to be present at any stage of the process? MC: Anything that happened, you know, he was right there. What was his name? (long pause) Roseque(??) was his name. I guess he was—I don’t remember what kind of nationality/personality he was, but he was Mexican. FC: You said he only worked there for a certain period of time during the year, but did the center operate year-round? MC: In a way, it did. They had a skeleton crew when they worked. They brought in a few people, and they had a few people coming and going. Most of the time, when they would hire the girls or the men to work, was when the crops—at the beginning, that’s when they hired all these people. Then they would bring them back. In between, most of the girls were laid off. I was one of the lucky ones that stayed, and I was able to do filing and whatever we had to do in between. When they [braceros] came back, they would call them [workers] back, because they would have a lot of them [braceros] back. They [workers] were trying to process them back in. It was just the same thing year-round. It was different crops at different times. They would have different periods of work. FC: When were the busiest times? MC: For the area there, I think August to maybe September, because that’s when the cotton was here. I don’t remember when Holly Sugar was, but they picked up the beets in Colorado, so that was a very busy time. FC: Mostly for the area it was cotton. You also mentioned the Holly Sugar beets. Any other crops that you remember? MC: No, I don’t remember. I know in Pecos Valley and El Paso Valley, I think it was cotton—they used to be right there on Alameda [Avenue]. Right now, I think they have a school there. They did have the offices. I don’t remember exactly what the name of it was, but I know it was El Paso Valley Farmers’—Mr. Tellez was the one that would go out and contract people there. You needed to remember these names. They made you. Last night I was thinking of all these names. (both laugh) FC: That happens quite often. How many applicants would you say were there in a day, let’s say on average? MC: To apply for a job or— FC: I mean to go through the process and to— MC: Sometimes they would bring me two, three, or four hundred. We had up to five hundred people there at one time, sometimes maybe even more. Some were coming in, some were leaving, and sometimes that camp was full. It was so funny, because when they came in, a lot of them came in from Oaxaca and different places like that, and they would come in with their white clothes, they came in with huaraches, those sandals. Their feet were—from walking. They used to walk miles from Mexico, deep inside of Mexico, when they couldn’t take a bus. They would travel for months to make it to where they were coming. It was strange, because you would see their feet. Their feet were just, you know, from traveling. They were just all ruined. You could see the damages on their feet and everything else. Then they would go to work, and they would come back. The camp was real quiet when they came, but you could hear them talking. When they came back, I think every one of them had bought a radio. They all had them on a different station. You could hear the whole camp. Their radios were on at night. They had all bought sewing machines; I don’t know why they all bought sewing machines. FC: So they could take them back to their— MC: They bought radios, sewing machines, bicycles, and cowboy boots. Most of them were wearing boots with jeans and, you know, a western shirt. You would look at them, and you would say, “These are the same ones that I processed going? Now they’re coming back, and look at the way they’re dressed.” FC: They were dressed so different. What about their attitude? Were they more open? MC: Their attitudes were a little bit different. They were kind of a little prouder. At first, they would come in real shy. When they went back they were so proud, because they had something to take back with them. It was strange, because I used to see sewing machines on top of the buses when they were taking them back to the bridges. The tops of the buses were all covered with sewing machines, standing with the legs up. All you could see was the legs of the sewing machines. FC: So it was very common that they had sewing machines? MC: Yes, sewing machines. I don’t know, I guess all the ladies used to know how to sew in Mexico. They used to buy sewing machines and bicycles. That was what they loved: bicycles, sewing machines, and radios. I remember sometimes in the afternoon, we would work late, and sometimes we would hear those radios going off on the different stations. My ex-husband used to work there as a guard. He would work night duty. Sometimes, I would go there with him or take him lunch, and you could hear the camp at night, and all you hear was the radios all on different stations, you know, here it was midnight, and all the radios were going on different stations. They would lay down there in the camp and sleep. They had cots. They had places where they could sleep, but they decided to sleep there all around the camp so they could have on their radios. By the time they got here, they had a little cloth bag with their belongings, I’d say maybe about eight inches, and they would come back with suitcases and all these bags. They would love to buy those shiny suitcases, they had those metal suitcases, you know? They loved to buy those, I mean, the shinier, the better. (both laugh) They would have all these clothes that they had bought. They had their pillows and blankets. They bought a lot of blankets. FC: In the country, they only had small bags, but were they able to keep their belongings? MC: Very minimal, whatever they had. Of course, like I said, they were very poor people. There were several in there that were college students and writers. [They] would come in to it so that they could write about the history and a lot of college students so they could experience what the braceros would experience. FC: Mexican college students, right? MC: Yes. You could tell right away the difference in the people. “Are you a student or something?” They would say, “Yes, how can you tell?” “Because of the way your demeanor is different.” Most of the people from Oaxaca speak their own language, their own dialect. At first, oh, you should have seen me! Oh, I was a disaster! [I tried] to listen to what they were trying to tell me, in their language, in the dialect that they used. They had the little sound in it, and I couldn’t understand what they were trying to say. It was difficult. After a while, you pick up their little sound, and you could begin to understand it. I was very fortunate, because I was raised by my grandparents. They were from deep in the interior of Mexico. My grandfather was from Jalisco, and I learned fluent Spanish, so to me, it was easy to talk to the casilleres or the consul because of the Spanish that they spoke. I was able to pick up the dialect because of having spoken Spanish the way that I did. It was easier. A lot of girls had a lot of problems. They could not even understand the consul. They used to tell me, “How can you understand him?” I said, “He’s speaking Spanish.” They said, “Well, we don’t understand that Spanish.” Of course, they had more problems with the braceros. They had problems listening to braceros because of the dialect that they spoke. You pick up a few words, you know, but a lot of them were from Oaxaca and Chihuahua, but we had a lot of them from Oaxaca. They walked, I’m telling you, they walked from Yucatán. That’s way down there! FC: Yeah, I know. They walked all the way to the recruiting center. MC: Most of time they walked. They would get rides with people. They didn’t have any money, so they would bring out whatever [they had]. They brought their money to pay, because they had to pay so much to get across. They didn’t have to, but in order to get there faster they would always—(both talking at once) FC: Oh, okay, like a fee. MC: Somebody was going to take their money and say, “Hey, I can get you there faster, but you pay me.” They were paying the mordida to get there faster. Some of them would never make it across, and they would have to go back to Juarez, or Chihuahua, or wherever they were from. They could not make it across, because they had fulfilled their quota, and they didn’t need the others. They had to make their way back. I felt sorry for them, because they didn’t have any money or any way to get back. The ones that did get across had their hardships like anything else, you know. Some places didn’t treat them as good as others. They had their hardships, but they had their good jobs, and they were able to take some money back home. Unfortunately, when they were getting back, I understand they would take some money [away]. They would ask for some money as they were going back across. It’s just a series of the same things that have happened for years and years. They pay to get wherever they have to go. Unfortunately, that’s it. FC: What was the age of the majority of the braceros that you had working? MC: Most of the braceros were, I think, in their late twenties, thirties, and forties. Some of them were older, and some of them were younger. I would say [most were in their] thirties. Most of them had families. FC: They usually came in groups, either in families, or— MC: They came in groups. All the men came in groups to work. They were all compadres. They all knew each other from an area, but there were some from other areas. Some of them came alone. I used to try to talk to them and make them feel at ease, because they were very tense when they got up to contracting. They see all these typewriters and all these girls sitting up high trying to type. They know they have to go through a series of questions. They would get very nervous and very intimidated. I tried to talk to them and say, “How long has it been since you left home?” I would ask them questions that would make them relax. I would try to make it a point to do that. They would talk to me and tell me some of their stories. Some of them were very interesting. Some would say, “I don’t like to talk about it,” or “I don’t want you to know anything.” I didn’t press, but most of them, I would say 99 percent of them, wanted to say something, to share something about their family. They were excited that somebody cared. FC: Exactly. It gives me the impression, the whole process, you feel like it’s dehumanizing since all these people and everything, someone really cares about you. MC: Somebody cares. Somebody is trying to make me feel good. I’m in a foreign country, and I don’t know what to expect, you know, somebody to talk to. When I was at the other office, I was not typing, I was just processing and separating, because I would separate the papers for contracting. I think it was four or five papers, and we had the carbon in between, so you had to separate those. We didn’t have that carbon paper. We had carbons in between. So, you can imagine what our hands looked like. We had to separate them and then take a copy. One of them they took off, we saved a copy from there, and then they would go to the next department, and they would take another copy. FC: Were they [braceros] able to keep a copy of their contracts with them? MC: Yes. The 345 they left with us, and we would file those. They would go on to immigration, and they would take another copy. They would process something else. They would do another type of processing in immigration and whatever [else] they had to do. Then they would go on to transportation. From there, they were able to— FC: You had all these different— MC: Different papers would go to different places. FC: Do you remember some of the stories that they used to tell you? What did they want to tell you mostly? About their families or— MC: They talked about their families or they would talk about how far they had traveled. I remember one time I was typing a contract for one of them. Like I said, they were tired. They came many times without food for days. I was typing this contract. We were sitting up on high, and the typewriters, they would come up in front of us to a certain point. There I was, typing away and asking questions, and all of a sudden he wasn’t there anymore. I looked down and asked him a question, but he wasn’t there anymore. It was the first time I had done anything. [When you’re] eighteen, you’re young and don’t understand. All of a sudden, here I am, and I said, “What happened? Where did he go?” I see all the braceros moving on. I did not understand. The man had passed out, right there. He fainted, right there in front of me, right in front of the typewriter. FC: You were not able to see because it was— MC: They had a thing where we had to go on high. The typewriter was sitting up high to where we were almost to their faces. We were not looking up at them. We were looking straight at them or down because some of them were real short. I was typing. I remember I was going full blast. I looked down at the 345, asked him a question, and he wasn’t there anymore. I had been talking to him, and suddenly he was gone. I was like, “Where did go?” Everybody says he passed out. He fainted right there. After that, I realized it wasn’t an every day deal, but it was not uncommon to see somebody suddenly pass out. They hadn’t eaten in a long time, and then you have all these people crowding and lack of oxygen. They’re all like that. They hadn’t had a bath, I guess, in two or three weeks, so that was just terrible. You would have them all in one building. (both talking at once) I guess that’s why they had us up high, so that we wouldn’t be at that level. We were there in the camp, and we would bring them in. That was before they checked them. A lot of them had tuberculosis or different things, and they had to be returned. We had already processed them [when] they found out that they had tuberculosis. They go through the whole line, and then they found out that they had it. FC: Oh, yeah, because it took a while. MC: We worked with them. We were in constant contact with them. FC: You never got shots? MC: We never did. None of us [did]. I remember I got pneumonia the second year I worked there. I didn’t know I had bronchial pneumonia. I kept working, but I just couldn’t talk. After the contracting season was over, I went to my doctor. He said, “You had bronchial pneumonia while you were there.” I kept on working. The girls used to laugh and say, “How in the world can you eat five or six sandwiches?” For lunch, I would get the big jalapenos and eat them like they were nothing, like they were a piece of tomato or something. They would say, “Aren’t they hot?” Maybe that’s what helped me, because I had so much fever. The jalapeno helped me to keep it down. FC: Wow! You never noticed that might be because of— MC: I just couldn’t talk, and I had trouble breathing. I didn’t want to quit work. They told me, “Take a couple of days off. You have a real bad cold.” “No. I don’t want to.” I wanted to keep on working. I loved to work. FC: Was it very common that they had tuberculosis? MC: A lot of them did have tuberculosis. FC: Do you think that they were aware that they had this? MC: We were aware, but we never thought anything about it, I guess. They went through, and we were aware that a lot of them were sick. We didn’t know what they had, bronchitis, tuberculosis, or VD [venereal disease]. It wasn’t anything that we just frowned at. It was people that we were processing. Sometimes they were in our line, and they would come from public health to pick them up. They would say, “I’m taking him.” I would say, “What’s the matter?” They would go—and I would go, “Oh.” I felt bad, not only because of the illness, but because they were going to be returned to Mexico. They would be returned, and they would be given medical care. They told the Mexican government to give them medical care. They would be sent to their homes, and God only knows what. They didn’t have the opportunity to work. That was sad to me. My problem is I’m a very sensitive person. I used to take every one of those people who were going across very much to heart. To me, it was not a group of people, it was an individual. I used to feel bad for them. Some would say, “I have eight kids. I came, because we just don’t have any food.” I would think, eight kids. (train sounds) Of course, some of them had two or three wives too, you know. They would say, “I don’t know which wife to put.” I said, “Are you married several times?” “Oh, no. I just live with two or three women—” FC: Oh, really? They didn’t know which one to put. MC: It was funny, one time this man came, and I said, “Okay, what is your wife’s name?” He said, “Well, it’s so and so.” I said, “Your beneficiary is your wife?” “Oh, no, no. It’s my lover. Her name is—” (both laugh; both talking at once) One time, I had two guys that had the same lover. They both wanted to leave her [as beneficiary], because they had insurance. FC: Really? They were aware of the fact they had— MC: No, they weren’t aware of it, but they became aware of it while they were there. I went like, “You’re leaving it to her? He just left it to her.” “Oh, he did?” I was like, “Oh, my God.” (both laugh; both talking at once) I go like, “Excuse me? What about your wife?” “No, my querida. I already told her that if something happens to me, she gets my insurance.” “What about your wife and kids?” “Oh, no. It’s okay. I promised my lover that I would leave her this.” (laughs) FC: I can’t believe that. MC: These are the stories that I used to—(laughs) They’re very interesting, but it’s one of a kind. You go through that, and you wonder. Some of them worked hard. Some of them had a wife, but they left everything to their mom. “If anything happens to me, I want everything to my mom.” Some of them weren’t married. They would say, “My mom is my beneficiary. My mom this and that.” [They said] stuff like that. Some of them were— FC: They were able to put whomever they wanted? MC: Oh, yes. For the beneficiary they could put their dad, mom, or neighbor. Someone put their neighbor. They didn’t have family, so they put their neighbor, compadre, comadre, or godson. Whatever they would want. They weren’t required to put anybody. They said, “My wife, so and so,” or “I don’t have a wife, but I want to leave this to my niece,” if something happened to them. FC: What about the families that came together or the group of friends? Were they able to get a contract together? MC: Sometimes, they tried. There were times they were separated, because they had a quota of people, and they couldn’t take anymore. “Please, take my compadre.” “I’m sorry. We already have our quota.” Sometimes, somebody would say, “I’m not part of that group. I’m not the family. Let him go.” Once in awhile, you would hear about that. I don’t know how often it happened, because I wasn’t out there unless it was selection night. Some of the times they were separated. They would go to different places. They would get together when they got back, “Oh, hi!” They went to separate places, but they’re back. The food wasn’t bad that they gave them. We ate the same food they were given all the time. FC: Was it good? MC: It was good food, but it wasn’t fantastic. A lot of them complained that it was garbage, and everything, but it wasn’t if all the employees would sit down and eat it. There were sometimes two hundred of us working there. At times, there were a lot of employees. When we were processing or contracting a loan, we had well over fifty girls. (both talking at once) FC: How were the buildings where you worked? The offices where you worked, like the contracting, you said you were up high— MC: They were long buildings. If you see them, they were just long, empty buildings, long like a warehouse, not like a (unintelligible) just an empty building, and then they would put the stands there for the (unintelligible/clipboard) where you could go up there. They had chairs. We had like a long desk, from one end to the other, where they would have all the typewriters, one next to the other. The next building was still contracting, and that was where we sorted out the paperwork. Some of the girls, what they did was put the forms together and put the carbons in there. It was different things that we did. We had two buildings for contracting. They would go from one building to the next. Look at the buildings. They’re connected, but there was a space in between them. I would say about maybe four or five feet. They would go from one building to the other. Four doors— FC: You said that besides typing the contracts, you also had to separate the papers and file them. MC: You had to separate them. There was filing that you do where you put the 345s some place, some other places, you would get a stack. Mostly we did the 345s when they would leave. Then we would have time to put them all together. We would find out a lot of things while we were filing. We would find out that somebody had the same name or something. (both talking at once) We would find out sometimes in the line. Sometimes we would find out after they had gone. We would find out through the cards, while we were filing them. It was a very interesting job. It was my first job. When you’re young, anything is—I was excited, because I had never worked outside the home. FC: That was your first job? MC: Yes. I had worked at the farm. My grandfather had a farm. I had worked there since I was nine years old. We had a grocery store, which is that building next to us. I worked there at the grocery store. It was a family business. I had never worked outside. FC: It’s like your first real life—(both laugh) MC: My grandparents were very strict, and they didn’t let me go out at all. Being able to go to work, to me, was getting away from my parents and grandparents. Going to work, sometimes, we would get out late. What my grandparents used to do is park outside and wait for me until I got out of work. FC: They were the ones to take you, and they would pick you up. MC: They would sit there for two or three hours in the car, and wait for me until I got out. They didn’t want me to drive. Sometimes I didn’t get out until eleven o’clock at night when we were processing braceros. I would go in at six o’clock in the morning and didn’t get out until eleven o’clock at night. FC: You had to finish. If you had two hundred people, you had to finish processing all those people. MC: We had to process the braceros in a certain time, but then we volunteered. They would say, “How many of you would volunteer to stay over and do the 345s, because we’re bringing people from Chihuahua.” I would be the first one to jump up and say, “I’ll stay until we finish.” Sometimes we didn’t finish until about 11:00 PM. I would be coming home about 11:00 PM or 11:30 PM. Being eighteen years old and an only child and grandchild, as spoiled as I was—(both laugh) FC: They took very good care of you. MC: Yeah. I was one of those that they kept real, you know, supposed to be real, (unintelligible) friendly?? or whatever. FC: Were you able to make any friendships with the other girls? MC: Oh, yes. There were a lot of girls from here that were working there. FC: From the same area? MC: Um-hm. There were a lot of them. I met a lot of girls from El Paso and from different areas like Socorro. As a matter of fact, after I met some of the girls from Socorro, I used to pick them up if they didn’t have a car. I would pick them up and give them a ride. [Some were] from San Elizario. I would get to meet a lot of girls that I didn’t know, even though we lived very close. I got to meet a lot of girls from El Paso, too, and that worked out. We kept our friendships through the years. Some of them I still talk to, and some of them I still remember. I went back after I got married and after I had my kids. I went back on a temporary, then I worked for transportation. FC: What year was that? When you came back? MC: The last year I worked there was ’61. FC: You were married when you— MC: When I came back. The office called me back. I worked there in transportation doing the paperwork, trying to get the people out, and trying to get them on the buses. I helped immigration. Sometimes they would run short of people, and I’d go in and help them. I was always the type of person that if they needed somebody, “I’ll help. I’ll stay and help.” FC: You always volunteered. MC: It kept me away from home, so I would volunteer. (both laugh) When I used to come home, I didn’t go out. My grandparents— FC: Not at all? Really? MC: Right before I got married, my ex-husband came in and asked my grandparents if he could take me to the movies. My grandfather told him flatly, “The day you take her out of this church,” he said, “you take her anywhere, other than that you leave her right here.” That was the way it was. You just didn’t do that then. FC: Is he the one that you mentioned? You mentioned that your husband worked as a guard at Rio Vista. Was he the one? MC: Yes. FC: You met him there? MC: No, no. We met in school. We knew each other since we were kids. [Our] families had been here for years and years. FC: Even though your grandparents knew him for a long time— MC: It didn’t matter who it was. It could have been the neighbor and still— FC: There was no difference. MC: No, no. FC: It’s not like he was a stranger. MC: He was no stranger. His dad would come over and talk to my grandfather. He [ex-husband] came, and my grandfather would sit between us. He wanted to know exactly what we were talking about, why, and when. FC: Can you believe that? The good thing is you did that. MC: Now you know why I was twenty years old when I got married. (both laugh) FC: You mentioned that some of the employers would come personally to the reception center to pick up [the braceros]. MC: Yes, they had to go. That was the only way they could get them. From the different associations, they would have to go to the camp and say, “I need so many people.” They would have to get them there, and pick them up from there. (long pause) The El Paso Valley Association was one. FC: They had different associations? MC: They had the one here. They had the one from Pecos. They had two or three from Holly Sugar. They would send representatives from Holly Sugar. They had other places, but I don’t remember what they were. The biggest ones were the ones from Pecos, where they pick up the cantaloupes, Holly Sugar, and the El Paso Valley Association. FC: I have a question. Let’s say a bracero went through the processing center and finished his contract. On his way back, he closed [fulfilled] his contract. What if he wanted to come back to the United States? Did he— MC: No, he had to go back. FC: If he wanted to return for another contract, did he have to pass through the processing center? MC: The next year? FC: Yes. MC: Yes. He had to go through the whole process again. A lot of times we had cards, and I noticed that they had been here for three or four years. FC: You did have people come back? MC: Yes. Some people did come back, not that many, but some people did. FC: What were your normal hours working there? MC: From 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM. FC: One hour lunch, you said? MC: One hour for lunch. It was Monday through Friday, most of the time. Sometimes, when it was heavy, when we had to work with the braceros contracting during the season, then we worked seven days a week. FC: Because there were many braceros. MC: Yes. I worked the first time for six weeks without a single day, no days off. FC: They did pay you overtime, right? MC: Yes. FC: They paid you with a check? MC: Yes, they would send a check. They would send it to me, I think in the mail. No, they would give it to me there. It was a government check. FC: Do you remember how much per hour? MC: Oh, Lord, I was making—what? (pause) I worked there for a year, and we were making two dollars and something an hour. FC: They paid you how often? Weekly? Bi-weekly? MC: Bi-monthly. FC: Is there any particular incident that stands out in your mind while working there at Rio Vista? MC: No, not really, other than when I got sick and other than losing—(both talking at once) the people that I was talking to. No, not really. Most of the girls got along real good. I didn’t have any problems with the girls. I had two ladies that adopted me. They knew I didn’t have a mother. They were older ladies that had worked there for a long time. They both wanted to adopt me. Then I had a man there, and he and his wife wanted to adopt me. They used to call me their child, and I used to call them mom and dad. FC: That’s very nice. MC: I had more mothers and more dads than— FC: Than anybody else. (both talking at once; both laugh) MC: I had no problems. I even used to go out into the main office and help them a lot of times [with] typing. They would call me to the front. They treated me real nice. I don’t have any complaints about the way they treated me. They were very, very nice to me. There are several girls still here that worked there. There are quite a few in Clint, and there’s quite a few in San Elizario. In Socorro, some of them have moved away. I know several in El Paso. As a matter of fact, one of them was the wife of one of the firemen in the El Paso. She’s got Alzheimer’s now. It’s very painful for me, because I knew her real well. She got to be a real good friend of mine. She’s older than me. They kind of took over me. I don’t know. I guess when they found out I didn’t have a mother, for some reason, they just kind of adopted me, looked after me or whatever. It was real nice. I had a good time, and I enjoyed it. FC: That’s good. It was a great work environment? MC: I liked it. It was hard. It was different. It was not, would you say, clean, (both talking) a lot of the work with all the people. It was fun. It was not an office job, per se, but I would dress up. I felt that at least they deserved that, instead of going in jeans or whatever. My grandfather didn’t let me wear pants, so I never [did]. I would always wear my dress and heels. FC: Oh, really? It was like— MC: I would be standing there, a lot of times all day, but it didn’t matter. At least they—(both talking at once) FC: Inside the buildings, you worked there in high heels and dresses! Wow! MC: I liked it. FC: That’s good. You see some of the ladies from the pictures, and they seem very nicely dressed. MC: (looking at a photograph) One of them is in pants, and the other is in a dress. One of them is wearing pants, but I never did. The one on the left is wearing a long dress, I think. The dresses were long that we wore at that time. It was the fifties. They were down here. I think that is Mary Torres on the right. That could be Jamie Munoz on the left, but I’m not quite sure. It looks like her. It’s either Mary Torres or Maggie Manago(??), that girl that I was telling you about. That’s when we had the tables. They were not doing the 345s for them either. This could have been—this was before my time. I don’t know what they were doing. I think that’s who they are. That was before my time. FC: Did the braceros say any compliments to the typing girls? MC: All they wanted to do was get through. All they wanted to do was get out of there. They were scared. Most of them were nervous. They didn’t know what the next building was going to bring or what they were going to ask them. They better get through or they were going to get stopped. They were very nervous. They were very timid and very shy. Most of the people that came, you have to realize, were from very poor neighborhoods. They were very poor people that risked themselves to come work, to make it to the border cities to find a job. FC: What do you feel were the advantages and disadvantages of the Bracero Program? MC: The advantages were that they were able to raise the crops, as they needed. The farmers were able to raise their crops, because at that time, there were several reasons why the men had to leave. A lot of the men did not want to work in the fields. There were some disadvantages. A lot of them would quit work or didn’t want to work, and they would take off and go back to Mexico. There was nothing the farmer could do to hold them. The farmer was the one to lose. I know because of what happened to my grandfather. One [bracero] got sick. They would get sick or hurt for some reasons that were—they used to like to go drinking on weekends, and stuff like that. They put themselves in harms way. That was a lot of times what [happened]. A lot of times when they said they were going up a hill to Colorado, one of them got smart, and he yelled, “Fire!” The buses were going at fifty or sixty miles an hour. Most of them were asleep at the back of the bus. When they opened the door to the back to exit, they didn’t realize that the bus was going at full speed. There were four or five of them that got killed. Things like that, mishaps, but these are the things that you don’t, you hear about them, but they weren’t advertised or anything. To me, that was it. There were advantages. I saw some disadvantages for them [braceros] in coming, for them really, because they had to chance it. Like they said, “A la mejor,” to whether they’re going to make it or not, if they are going to get contracted, if they are going to be sent back to Mexico, or if they are healthy enough to stay or not. They had to watch their things very closely, because as poor people when they came back, they had to watch everything, because somebody else would— FC: Take it. MC: Own what the other person, ownership would change hands (both talking at once) just like anything, you have a group of people that are very poor, and they are always trying to make a little bit from somebody else. I think the people that came, most of them, had a good experience. Some of them didn’t. Some of them went to different farms where they were mistreated and stuff, and the Mexican government intervened. There was good treatment, and there was bad treatment. FC: Do you think the Bracero Program should be revived? MC: I don’t see it coming back, because now they have been replaced by the equipment, by the machinery and stuff, and it’s not the same as it used to be. It was funny, because when we had the farm, they used to walk from one place to another. As long as they carried a shovel or an implement, the Border Patrol wouldn’t get them. On Sundays, you would see them all dressed up, carrying the shovel from one place to another. (both laugh) Most of these were undocumented workers. As long as they had that shovel—it was funny, because they’re all dressed up to go visit somebody, and then they had the shovel. As long as they had it, that was it. Like I said, I worked on the farm. I knew the farm life because of my dad having a farm. When I worked there, I learned their side of life. At first, we had some—that was before I worked with them that I realized that we had them. My dad sold the farm in ’53. By that time, I hadn’t seen them until I went to work. Then I realized the other side of things. It was really interesting. FC: Is there any final comment you would like to make? Any additional— MC: I’m very sorry that I don’t have the pictures. I hope I can get them separated, because they got stuck. I do have some photographs that we took there. It would be great if you could get a group of people that worked there. Maybe we can all have a reminder [of who each of us are]. I can give you the names of some people in Clint and San Elizario that worked there. Some of them worked only one season or it was just the six weeks. Some of them were there for a long time. I know a lady there that worked as a government employee, and she worked there for a long time. She was our office manager. FC: What is her name? MC: Her name is Ceci, it was Apodaca, but it’s Brewster now. She’s the wife of one of the councilmen for Socorro, Ceci Brewster. FC: I will get the names in a minute. I would like to thank you very much. MC: Thank you for coming, and I hope I’ve given you enough. FC: Oh, no, you did. Thank you very much. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 57:20 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Cheatum_ELP012 description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Minerva C. Cheatum nació en El Paso, Texas; al poco tiempo de nacer, su madre falleció y por consiguiente la criaron sus abuelos maternos en Clint, Texas. Mientras aún iba a la escuela, comenzó a trabajar como empleada administrativa y mecanógrafa en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas. Comenzó a trabajar en agosto de 1957 y continuó trabajando allí por temporadas hasta 1962. Resumen de la Entrevista: La Sra. Cheatum cuenta cómo fue a vivir con sus abuelos maternos poco después de la muerte de su madre, continuó viviendo con ellos aún después de que su padre se volvió a casar y se mudó a California. Su abuelo tenía una hacienda y a menudo contrataba braceros que lo ayudaran a trabajar la tierra. En agosto de 1957, cuando ella tenía dieciocho años, comenzó a trabajar de empleada administrativa en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas; ofrece una descripción detallada de las instalaciones en general, del proceso de selección, del modo en que se completaba la documentación y de cómo reaccionaban los braceros y qué decían. Había un formulario en particular, llamado el 345, que era esencial al proceso integral de los braceros; este formulario les era entregado en el centro de procesamiento de Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México y se les solicitaba como forma de identificación al ingresar a Estados Unidos. A veces había estudiantes universitarios y escritores profesionales que se hacían pasar por braceros a fin de escribir sobre sus experiencias; relata además varias anécdotas interesantes. Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Minerva C. Cheatum creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Carrillo, Fernanda contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Carrillo, Fernanda Cheatum, Minerva Christine Ann Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-03 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Minerva C. Cheatum was born in El Paso, Texas; shortly after she was born her mother died, and she was consequently raised by her maternal grandparents in Clint, Texas; while still attending high school, she began working as a clerk and typist at Rio Vista, a bracero processing center in Socorro, Texas; she started in August of 1957 and continued working there seasonally until 1962. Summary of Interview: Ms. Cheatum tells how she came to live with her maternal grandparents shortly after her mother’s passing; she continued to live with them even after her father remarried and moved to California; her grandfather had a farm, and he often hired braceros to help him with the land; in August of 1957, when she was eighteen years old, she began working as a clerk and typist at Rio Vista, a bracero processing center in Socorro, Texas; she provides a detailed description of the facilities in general, the screening process, how the paperwork was filled out, and how the braceros reacted and what they said; there was a particular form, called a 345, which was essential to the entire process for the braceros; they were given the form at the processing center in Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México, and it was required as a form of identification upon entering the United States; sometimes college students and professional writers would pose as braceros in order to later write about their experiences; she also relays several interesting anecdotes. Language A language of the resource eng Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Clerk typist at Rio Vista processing center Title A name given to the resource Minerva Christine Ann Cheatum https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/martinez_nmah006_c520598cb8.mp3 8cd5ceceafd681994c15faea14566ff4 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Chew, Selfa Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Martínez, Jesús Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 38:13 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k Time Summary A summary of an interview given for different time stamps throughout the interview [Mins 0:00-4:47; Introduction and Early Life] Jesús Martínez was born April 7, 1932 in San Jacinto, Aguascalientes, México, in the municipality of Rincón de Romos. Jesús describes San Jacinto as an agricultural “pueblito” [small town] with a population of 4,000. His family owned a ranch that grew corn, chili, beans, and wheat. Jesús had a family of nine people [it is unclear as to whether he is referring to a total of nine siblings are a total of nine people in his family]. Jesús’ only living sister currently resides in the Mexican state of Aguascalientes. His brothers currently live in El Paso, Texas. Jesús only attended primary school. Jesús speaks about the San Jacinto community’s attitude toward school. He expresses that agricultural labor took precedence over school and describes attendance as “voluntary.” Jesús learned how to read and write largely through his wife. He explains that after his father died when he was twelve, Jesús had to take on more responsibility and help care for his younger siblings. Jesús began working when he was eight years old. His first job was to clear mesquite from the land before his family farmed it. [Mins 4:48-9:22; Deciding to Become a Bracero] Jesús remembers his neighbors becoming Braceros during the first year of the program which he recalls as 1945. Jesús speaks briefly about the mandatory military service in México. He was asked to present his military card to receive his Bracero contract. Jesús was not married until two years after he became a Bracero. Until he decided to become a Bracero, Jesús had never thought of working in the United States. He decided to become a Bracero to both earn enough money to send as wage for non-family members who helped farm his family’s land, and because his brothers were finally old enough to farm by themselves. Jesús’ family had many animals, including mules and cows. The mules would transport the harvest after it was collected. Jesús states that he thought only of his mother and siblings when he decided to become a Bracero; he never thought of himself. [Mins 9:23-11:38; Requirements to Become a Bracero] The requirements to become a Bracero were that one had to be of age, present his records [it is unclear whether these records are medical records, military records, financial records, etc.], present his birth certificate, and present a letter of recommendation from the presidency of his municipality indicating that he was a person of good repute. Jesús states that neighbors served as witnesses who testified as to the quality of the Bracero’s character. Jesús states that one always had to pass the physical examination in order to receive a contract. During this examination blood was drawn. Afterwards, one had to undress for their body to be examined and “disinfected.” Jesús states that the above process was the most embarrassing requirement of all. [Mins 11:39-14:23; Pre-processing] Jesús explains that he signed up to become a Bracero in his town. The list was authorized by his municipality and would serve as recommendation. When the Braceros arrived at the processing center, they would speak to the officials who would give them an estimate of the length of time they would have to wait in order to be processed. Braceros from Jesús’ town could enlist either through the Mexican state of Aguascalientes or through the Mexican state of Zacatecas, since his town was near the border of both states. Jesús first enlisted as a Bracero in 1952. He explains that each Bracero was issued a number at the processing center that could be as high as 30,000. Those Braceros with high numbers were free to find work in the meantime. Braceros’ numbers would be posted daily in the newspaper so that they would be aware of when they were being called for an interview. [Mins 14:24-16:55; Expectations and Conditions] Jesús states that the “Americans” [growers] expected the Braceros to be honest, responsible workers, and obedient to the mayordomo [field boss]. He remarks that the more respectful and obedient Braceros were, the more “benefits,” such as trust, they received. He states that one had to identify with his work and not his language. Jesús was informed of the meal schedule at his worksite. If a Bracero arrived after the cooks had left, there was no food available. He was informed of how much and how often he would be paid, and of his sleeping arrangements, describing the barrack as “roomy,” containing bunk beds lined up side by side. [Mins 16:56-19:40; Processing] Jesús traveled from Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México to Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua, México via train. In El Paso, [it is unclear as to the method of travel across the border into the United States] they rode by bus to the Río Vista Processing Center. There, they were informed of the general schedule, the time to pick up and return their beds, mealtimes, and times to shower. They were also informed of when the contractor from the state in which they wished to work would be at the processing center. Jesús remarks that a Bracero could wait up to a week at the processing center waiting for a contractor from a particular state. Jesús explains that while he was a Bracero he crossed at many entrance points along the border, including at Mexicali, Baja California, México when he was contracted in Empalme, Sonora, México, in Ciudad Juárez, when he was contracted in Chihuahua, and in Reynosa, Tamaulipas, México when he was contracted in Monterrey, Nuevo León, México. He describes the processing centers in the United States as clean with good service. There were times, however, when the Braceros would get on each others nerves. He states that if they were told to do something they could not understand, they would continue doing what they would do in their hometown. Braceros were transported by “special busses,” like Greyhound, to their worksite or by plane if the worksite was far from the processing center. [Mins 19:41-22:24; Processing Continued] Jesús calls the process a “sacrifice” saying that one has to pass through many rounds of interviews. If there was any discrepancy between interviews, one was pushed to the side while another Bracero took his place. He explains that regardless of what time of day or night it was, as soon as the Braceros arrived at Río Vista, they were examined—having blood drawn and their hair checked. Many Braceros would faint when their blood was drawn because they were weak from the sleepless trip. Jesús states that Braceros were able to choose their salary by waiting for contractors from the better-paying states, such as Michigan, Nebraska, Idaho, Colorado, and Montana. Braceros were able to purchase clothes in the United States and keep the clothes with them at the processing center to save for their return to México. [Mins 22:25-25:57; Outline of Places in which Jesús Worked] Jesús worked as a Bracero from 1952 to 1961 continuously, except for the mandatory periods of return to México. As a Bracero, he worked in [the city is unclear], Michigan, Edmore, Michigan, Saginaw, Michigan, Scottsbluff, Nebraska, Coachella, California and Clint, Texas. In Clint, Jesús decided to legalize his family’s residency. From Michigan, Jesús called his brothers who were working in Clint, Texas, to see if there was any way that Jesús could stay in the United States. His brothers talked with the growers in Clint, and Jesús was hired to pick cotton. The farm where Jesús worked grew cotton, alfalfa, chili, wheat, and [it is difficult to hear what other crop was harvested]. There were 45 Braceros who picked cotton. Jesús became the mayordomo [field boss] in Clint, a ranch in Arizona, and a ranch in Ysleta, Texas. He was in charge of all three ranches at the same time. Jesús attended school in Las Cruces, New Mexico to learn about cultivation, explaining that at that time, nut harvests were being sold. [Mins 25:58-28:00; Relationships] Jesús states that he made many friends, saying that upon return to México Braceros were all seen as family because they had “suffered” through the same things. Jesús does not recall that any undocumented workers were hired. Jesús expresses that his relationship with the grower was very strong, stating that he was treated like family. Upon the grower’s death, he left instructions that all the Braceros were to sit at the head table during Mass. Mexican authorities never visited the worksite, but INS officials reviewed workers’ documentation at the beginning of each harvest. Jesús communicated with his family via letters. He only saw them at the end of each contract. [Mins 28:01-31:57; Working and Living Conditions; Food] Jesús worked eight hours a day for six days a week. In Michigan, Jesús worked with beets and then picked blackberries from an orchard. Braceros would eat meals in the dining hall, but were only allowed one serving. Jesús remembers that Fridays were special because chicken was served. Lunch was served at noon, and dinner was served at seven. Braceros paid $1.75 [it is unclear whether this is per day, per meal, etc.] that was deducted from their paycheck. He remembers that sometimes they would be served food that they had never eaten at home, but which they would have to accept. He states that sometimes their meal was insufficient, but that they could not complain because it was the standard meal for all. Jesús describes the barracks as containing several bunk beds. The Braceros would keep their bag beneath the beds and were required to keep their beds neat. Jesús states that the bathrooms were good. The Braceros would turn in their laundry every Saturday or Sunday to be washed. The Braceros had to pay for toiletries. [Mins 31:58-36:32; Wage] Jesús speaks about caring for large peppers and their profit as opposed to pumpkins. Jesús was paid in cash. In some camps he was paid every eight days, and in others he was paid every fifteen days. He would save money from his paychecks and then send it home to México via registered mail. Braceros that were paid by the hour received the same wage. Braceros that were paid by contract were paid according to their particular harvest. Jesús states that he was always paid the correct amount on time. He never had any problems on the job. [Mins 36:33-End; Final Reflections] Jesús hopes that today’s generation understands how much the Braceros suffered, working without food and ill at times. He speaks of the importance of setting a good example for one’s family, of being honest and responsible. He has nine children that all have careers. Jesús says that the Bracero Program introduced him to a different way of life in the United States, and that he wanted that way of life for his children. Jesús recalls that in the Río Grande Valley people crossed the [Río Grande] river with their families dying of hunger. He vowed that his family would not cross by river, but rather would cross [legally] by bridge. He thanks God that his wish was granted. File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Martinez_NMAH006 subject (Spanish) Bracero Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Jesús Martínez creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Chew, Selfa contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Chew, Selfa Martínez, Jesús Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2005-11-12 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Jesús Martínez was born on April 7, 1932, in Rincón de Romos, Aguascalientes, México; as a child, he helped his family with the farming duties, which took precedence over attending school; when he was twelve years old, his father died, which forced him to take on more family responsibilities, including helping to care for his younger siblings; in 1952, he enlisted in the bracero program in order to help support his family; as a bracero he worked with various crops in Arizona, California, Michigan, Nebraska, and Texas; in addition, he became the foreman for three separate farms; he continued working with the program until 1961, and he was ultimately able to arrange legal residency for his family. Summary of Interview: Mr. Martínez describes his family and childhood; in 1952, he enlisted in the bracero program in order to help support his family; he provides a detailed explanation of the necessary documentation to become a bracero, including letters of recommendation; in addition, he describes the various contracting procedures, that consisted of long waiting lines, physical exams, collections of blood samples, and delousing, which was the most embarrassing for him; as a bracero, he worked in Arizona, California, Michigan, Nebraska, and Texas; he goes on to discuss wages, living and working conditions, treatment, provisions, remittances, and the range of relationships among employees and employers; eventually, he became the foreman for three separate farms, and he attended an agricultural school in Las Cruces, New Mexico, to learn more about cultivating crops; he continued working with the program until 1961, and he was ultimately able to arrange legal residency for his family; he concludes by expressing the importance of working hard and being honest. Language A language of the resource spa Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Title A name given to the resource Jesús Martínez https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/leal_altamirano_nmah002_0855739177.mp3 fcf60f18fb2bb7f65d4495cb2f6861fa Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Chivardi, Rosa Elia Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Leal Altamirano, Manuel Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:12:03 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k Time Summary A summary of an interview given for different time stamps throughout the interview [Mins 0:00-5:11; Introduction and Early Life] Manuel Leal Altamirano was born on March 9, 1922 in Maclovio Herrera, Chihuahua, México in the municipality of Aldama. His parents worked in agriculture, but his mother died when he was seven years old. He is one of the middle children and has four sisters and five brothers. He attended school until the third grade, explaining that the teachers would stay for three or four months at a time, and then there would be a long lag period until more teachers were hired. Manuel became accustomed to work in order to pay for fashionable clothing, so he stopped going to school. Manuel began to work when he was seventeen or eighteen, but before that he had helped his father care for the goats, calves, and donkeys. He married when he was twenty-eight. He describes how he met his wife. They have three children. [Mins 5:12-10:04; Processing] Manuel became a Bracero in 1951 and earned enough money to marry his wife upon his return. He was contracted in Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua, México, and was received in Fort Bliss, Texas. To become a Bracero he was asked to provide information about his date of birth and the names of his parents. He was not asked to present his military record because he had been born before the year 1925. Manuel remembers how the Braceros used to sleep on the ground in line because they would have to wait for so long. He remembers that many Braceros complained about that, but says that he had patience. During Manuel’s physical examination he was immunized and his blood was drawn. He was not informed of what type of work he would be doing or what his wage would be. Once he was contracted, the contract contained that information. [Mins 10:05-12:49; Processing Continued] From Ciudad Juárez, Manuel was transported to Fort Bliss. From Fort Bliss, the grower transported him to Doña Ana, New Mexico. The grower, Martin Tarp, spoke Spanish and treated Manuel very well. Manuel clarifies that he was physically examined in Fort Bliss, Texas, but not in México. The Braceros were not able to pick where they were to work or what they would be working with. [Mins 12:50-15:00; First Contract] His first contract was for three months. It was subsequently renewed so that he worked in Doña Ana for a total of three years. He worked with cotton and was paid fifty cents an hour and two cents a pound. Manuel would regularly pick 400 to 450 pounds. He explains that he picked a normal amount, but that the good pickers would pick about 500 or 600 pounds. He explains that food would cost about eight dollars a week, so by picking 400 pounds a day, he made enough to cover his food budget in one work day. [Mins 15:01-16:49; Living Conditions and Food] In Doña Ana, Manuel did not live with many Braceros. They were provided with a stove, dishes, and a bed. In Muleshoe, Texas, Manuel lived in a barrack with eighty Braceros and paid for board, but their food was cooked for them. Braceros cooked their own food in both Doña Ana and Luna County, New Mexico. When Manuel and two of his brothers were together in Doña Ana, they bought and cooked food together. When Miguel was alone, he bought food and cooked for himself. [Mins 16:50-18:50; Relationships Among Braceros] Manuel states that some Braceros physically fought with each other, offended each other, and told embarrassing jokes, but says that he always stayed even-tempered. He remembers that there were undocumented workers at nearby worksites. [Mins 18:51-23:05; Grower, Consul, INS] He expresses that the grower treated him well. He never saw the grower’s wife, but would see his two children. Manuel would never see any Mexican officials at the worksite in Doña Ana, but he states that the Braceros were aware that the Mexican Consul was their representative and they would see him at times in Las Cruces, New Mexico. The Consul would inquire as to how they were doing. Manuel recounts an incident in which the first day he and his brothers arrived in Doña Ana they were approached by the INS and asked to display their credentials. That was the only time Manuel saw the INS. [Mins 23:06-25:27; Working Conditions and Food Continued] Manuel worked eight hours a day and had Sunday off. Sometimes he would also have Saturday off. They would begin work at eight in the morning, have an hour break for lunch at noon, and work until five in the afternoon. In the morning Manuel and his brothers would eat eggs and beans, and at midday they would eat sopa [past dish] and potatoes. He speaks about how thrifty he and his brothers were. [Mins 25:28-31:53; Living Conditions Continued, Money] In Doña Ana there were no restrooms. The Braceros would bathe outside. When it was hot outside the growers would give the Braceros a tub which the Braceros would fill with water they had heated on the stove. In Manuel’s other worksites there were bathrooms with heated water. The Braceros would wash their clothes in small tubs. He was paid in cash in Doña Ana but paid by check in Luna County. In Luna County one of the stores let the Braceros use their checks to buy food. The Braceros were paid weekly. Money was deducted for social security, but Manuel remarks that it was always around $2.00 per paycheck. Manuel would send his wife money every two weeks via money order. He would send about fifty dollars a month. Manuel recalls that once while he was in Michigan for three weeks picking peppers he lost his check. He wrote to the Consul about the incident and the money promptly appeared at Manuel’s residence. Manuel states that the Consul helped immensely. [Mins 31:54-35:16; Medical Services, Complaints, Discrimination] Manuel recalls an instance in which his eyes were hurting him. The grower took him to a doctor who gave him eye drops. The grower paid for all of the expenses. Manuel states that Braceros had rights toward medical services in that the Braceros were never required to pay. The expenses were handled by the grower or company. Manuel says that he would hear Braceros complaining about various things but stresses that he never complained about anything. Manuel never experienced any discrimination but he would hear stories about other people being discriminated against. The people who were discriminated against, however, were not necessarily Braceros. [Mins 35:17-36:07; Church] On Sundays, Manuel would attend Church. He is an Evangelical Christian. The services would either be in Spanish or there would be an interpreter. In Doña Ana, the church Manuel attended was full of Mexicans [and Mexican-Americans], but at other worksites the churches he attended would be dominated by “Americans” [whites]. Manuel states that in those cases, he would always search for the Mexicans [and Mexican-Americans]. [Mins 36:08-39:01; Processing Continued] Manuel worked in Doña Ana from 1951 to 1954. While his contracts were being renewed, he would return to México. After 1954, he was examined in México, sent to the Río Vista Processing Center in El Paso, Texas, examined there once more, and then sent to work in Luna County. He was contracted at Río Vista. Luna County extends from Deming, New Mexico to Columbus, New Mexico. Prior to being contracted, Manuel had written to a grower in Columbus, Luis Quezada, to ask that he be contracted with him. Upon arrival at Río Vista, Manuel stated that he had a contract set up in Columbus and was sent there via bus. He explains that if growers specifically requested a certain Bracero, and that specific Bracero was the only one from the group of Braceros at the processing center assigned to that region, the grower would have to pay for the bus to transport the Bracero. [Mins 39:02-41:51; Columbus, New Mexico] Manuel picked cotton in Columbus. There, he lived in small barracks that housed two to three Braceros each. He worked with about ten Braceros. The Braceros cooked their own food. The wage was the same wage as Doña Ana, but they were paid by check. Either Luis or a non-Bracero employee drove the Braceros to buy food. The market was about thirty minutes away by foot from the worksite. [Mins 41:52-43:20; Relationships with Growers] Manuel clarifies that he worked for Luis in 1957. In 1955, he worked for a grower named Donald Thor, an “American” [white] who spoke Spanish very well. He states that both growers in Luna County treated Manuel very well. Manuel knew the growers’ families and states that Donald would even invite Manuel to have coffee with him. Manuel can only remember the names of one of Donald’s sons, but can remember the names of all of Luis’ children. Manuel states that the growers’ sons also treated him very well. [Mins 43:21-44:36; Returning to México] Manuel would work for about three or four months for each contract, explaining that the length of time depended on the cotton season. The cotton season generally ran from late August to December. When he returned to México, Manuel would work in construction or would travel around worksites trading. [Mins 44:37-45:36; Manuel’s Brothers] Manuel repeats information about Luis’ four children. Manuel and his brothers were treated well by Luis’ children. Manuel’s two brothers currently live in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. [Mins 45:37-48:32; Muleshoe, Texas] Before he worked as a Bracero in Muleshoe, Manuel was contracted again in the Mexican state of Chihuahua, crossed into the United States via Ciudad Juárez, and was processed at Río Vista. Three buses full of Braceros were sent from Río Vista to Muleshoe. After he had been there a short time, he was sent to a different worksite to drive a tractor. There, he was the only Bracero and thus lived alone in a house with a bathroom. He returned to México after his eighteen-month contract had expired. [Mins 48:33-51:23; Bracero Duties] Manuel states that beginning in 1960, Braceros were not allowed to drive tractors. Rather, they were only allowed to work with their arms. Manuel states that he does not know why this occurred but guesses that American citizens wanted to work with the machinery. Manuel was paid seventy-five cents an hour as a tractor driver. He worked eight hours a day from Monday to Saturday. During his contract in 1960, he worked in irrigation. He remarks that irrigation work does not tire one out as much as field work does. He worked in irrigation in June, July, and August [of 1960]. [Mins 51:24-53:04; Muleshoe and Church Continued] The worksite at Muleshoe was far from the center of town. On Sundays, Manuel would walk to church but he states that many times people would give him rides when they saw him walking along the side of the road. He remarks that the people in Muleshoe were very kind. [Mins 53:05-55:25; Recreation, Wage, Food Continued] Manuel remembers that while he was working at a different worksite in the same county as a tractor driver with two other Braceros, they would ask the grower to borrow his truck to go to the movies. Each Bracero cooked his own food at that worksite. At that worksite the Braceros were allowed to work as long as they liked, so if they chose to work longer hours, their paychecks would be higher. After each season, the Braceros would return to the “Association” to receive another assignment. [Mins 55:26-56:48; Post-Bracero Work] After 1960, Manuel decided not to renew his Bracero contract because he and his wife were offered positions in a boarding school. His wife was offered the position of a cook and he was offered the position of a caretaker. They were given a place to live and were able to school their children there. Manuel’s daughter lives in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. She was a teacher and is now retired. [Mins 56:49-60:18; Legalizing Residency] Manuel’s two sons live in the United States as United States citizens. One lives in Austin, Texas and one lives in California. Manuel is a legal resident, but has not been able to become a United States citizen although he has tried twice, saying that Texas is “muy requisitero” [has many requirements]. Manuel legalized his residency during the United States’ period of “amnesty” [Immigration Reform and Control Act of 1986] while he was residing in California as an undocumented worker. He had moved to California in 1981. More than five years later, Manuel and his wife moved to San Elizario, Texas and his wife legalized her residency. Afterwards they moved to El Paso. At the time of the interview, they had lived in El Paso for nine years. [Mins 60:19-63:07; Reflections] Manuel states that he only had the chance to advance monetarily while he was in Muleshoe, saying that because the contracts were so short and spread apart elsewhere, the money that he earned was used up by the time the contract was completed. In Muleshoe, he had the opportunity to save money. Manuel explains that the Bracero contracting system was unfair, saying that the wealthier Braceros would pay about four to five hundred pesos [Mexican currency] to be contracted faster and in places where they paid more, such as picking beets. Thus, the cycle would repeat itself. [Mins 63:08-End; Reflections Continued] To Manuel, the term ‘Bracero’ means one who works with his arms. He speaks at length about his daughter. Manuel states that he does not feel proud to have been a Bracero. Rather, he feels satisfied. He expresses that due to his work as a Bracero he was able to live [financially] day to day. He had positive memories of being a Bracero. He states that he does not know why some Braceros had a bad time. He was treated well. He states that if he had been treated badly he would have complained. Manuel states that at the least the Bracero Program helped his family and children a little. He speaks at length about his children. File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Leal_Altamirano_NMAH002 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Manuel Leal Altamirano Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Manuel Leal Altamirano was born on March 9, 1922, in Aldama, Chihuahua, México; he has four sisters and five brothers; when he was seven years old, his mother died; as a child, he helped his father care for the animals they owned; consequently, he was formally educated only through the third grade; he worked with the bracero program from 1951 to 1960; as a bracero, he worked in New Mexico and Texas, picking crops, irrigating, and driving tractors. Summary of Interview: Mr. Leal briefly discusses his early childhood and family; in 1951, he enlisted in the bracero program; he describes going through Rio Vista, a processing center in Socorro, Texas, and the various procedures he underwent while there; as a bracero, he worked in New Mexico and Texas, picking crops, irrigating, and driving tractors; he goes on to describe wages, working and living conditions, provisions, recreational activities, and the medical attention received when necessary; in addition, he explains the range of interactions with fellow braceros, employers, immigration personnel, and consul representatives; he continued working with the program until 1960; in the early eighties, he returned to the United States as an undocumented worker; by the mideighties, however, he was able to arrange residency for himself and his family; he concludes by reflecting on the bracero program overall and how it affected his life. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Chivardi, Rosa Elia Leal Altamirano, Manuel Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2005-11-12 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Manuel Leal Altamirano creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Chivardi, Rosy Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Cortez, Veronica Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Chavira Carrillo, Leonardo Location The location of the interview. Coachella, CA Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Nombre del entrevistado: Leonardo Chavira Carrillo Fecha de la entrevista: 20 de mayo de 2006 Nombre del entrevistador: Verónica Cortez Ésta es una entrevista con Leonardo Chavira Carrillo en el 20 de mayo de 2006 en Coachella, California. Yo me llamo Verónica Cortez y esta entrevista es parte del Proyecto Bracero, Historia Oral de braceros. LC: A ver, yo soy Leonardo Chavira Carrillo, soy el que trabajé como bracero del 1950 hasta el [19]60. VC: Entonces déjeme, primero vamos a empezar con unas preguntas. LC: Okay. VC: Antes de que fue bracero. LC: Ándale, está bien. VC: Voy a estar tomando notas por si acaso me quiere preguntar algo. LC: Órale. VC: ¿Okay? ¿Dónde y cuándo nació? LC: Nací el 12/19/29 [19 de diciembre de 1929]. VC: ¿Dónde? LC: En Zacualco de Torres, Jalisco, México. VC: Hábleme de su familia y del lugar donde nació. LC: De mi familia, mi papá era Pedro Chavira, mi mamá era Refugio Carrillo, por eso soy Carrillo, por mi mamá. Ahí nací en Zacualco y ellos no sé de dónde serían. VC: ¿No? LC: No. Y me vine para acá de bracero. VC: Antes de hablar de bracero déjeme… Okay, ¿a qué se dedicaban sus padres? LC: Mi papá era, trabajaba en el campo y de albañil. VC: ¿Proviene de una familia grande? LC: Pos, regular. VC: ¿Regular? ¿Cómo cuántos hermanos tenía usted? LC: Cuatro, ¿verdad? 2do: Sí. LC: Aristero, Marcelino, Moisés. 2do: María y Consuelo. LC: Cinco, de cinco. VC: ¿Cinco? LC: Tres hombres y dos mujeres. VC: Y, ¿dónde viven sus hermanos y hermanas ahora? LC: Vive, una vive en Tecomán y la otra vive en Zacualco. VC: Y, ¿sus hermanos? 2do: Ya murieron. LC: Ya murieron todos. VC: ¿Usted fue a la escuela cuando estaba…? LC: Fui hasta tercer año. VC: Entonces, ¿hasta tercer año? ¿Aprendió a leer y escribir? LC: Sí. VC: ¿Sí? ¿Trabajaba cuando estaba en la escuela? LC: No, no trabajaba. VC: ¿Cuántos años tenía cuando empezó a trabajar? LC: Tenía como unos doce a trece años, por ahí. VC: ¿Doce a trece años? Y, ¿cuál fue su primer trabajo? LC: En el campo, el azadón. VC: Ahora el proceso, vamos a hablar de cuando lo contrataron para ser bracero. LC: Sí. VC: ¿Cómo se enteró del programa de bracero? LC: De bracero, oí yo decir a la gente que en Irapuato, Guanajuato estaban contratando gente. Y me fui para allá a ver qué suerte me tocaba. Y para entrar de bracero tuve que pagar mordida a otro coyote porque te metan. Dijo: “Déme $300 pesos y se va ahí a oír su nombre”. Y ellos, si estás en una lista de Michoacán o Sonora, te meten ahí. ¿Eres de Michoacán o eres…? Ni te preguntan de dónde eres, nomás te metes y ya estaban ahí. También era Irapuato, Guanajuato y otra lista de aquí de Mexicali. Me fui en una lista de Baja California, para Empalme, Sonora, ahí me metieron de bracero. Y otra lista acá en Caléxico, pues en Mexicali, ahí otra, me contrataron también. Y después por la mica de bracero, entré de vuelta. Te daban la mica pero cuando entré me la quitaron y ya no me la dieron, no tengo nada. VC: Okay. Entonces cuando usted entró, ¿qué tipo de trabajo? LC: La lechuga. VC: ¿La lechuga? LC: Ey. VC: Y, ¿estaba ya casado cuando entró la primera vez? LC: Sí. VC: ¿Sí? LC: Ya estaba casado. VC: Y entonces dejó a su esposa. LC: Dejé allá y me vine. Y cada año me contrataba y me iba de vuelta para allá, ey. Plantaba un niño y luego me venía pa acá. 2do: Y cuando estaba, cuando ya me trajo para acá pa Mexicali, ya estaba él también de bracero, sí. Salía y entraba aquí a Mexicali. VC: Entonces usted dejó a su familia en Mexicali. LC: Ey, tengo familia en Mexicali, tengo familia allá, dos hijos. 2do: No, dice que si vivías ahí en Mexicali con la familia. LC: Sí, todos. 2do: Sí, con mis hijos. VC: Usted se quedó en Mexicali. 2do: Sí. LC: Ey. 2do: Estaba en Mexicali. VC: ¿En esa época usted pensaba que iba a trabajar en los Estados Unidos, usted pensaba que fuera usted a trabajar en los Estados Unidos? LC: Sí, sí pensaba, pensé doce años y vine para Estados Unidos porque dije: “Aquí en nuestro pueblo muere la gente, son jóvenes, se mueren desnutridos, trabajados, mal alimentados y mueren”. Y aquí el que trabaje siempre está fuerte, porque la comida es más, tiene más vitamina o el bienestar, más aseo, más todo. VC: Sí. ¿Qué requisitos debían cumplir para ser braceros? LC: ¿Mande usted? VC: ¿Qué requisitos tenía que cumplir para ser bracero? LC: Nada. VC: ¿Nada? LC: No, nomás estaba así, no preguntaban que cuántos años se necesitan tener, no, nomás el nombre pa trabajar. Nomás. VC: ¿Le hicieron un examen físico? LC: Sí, todo, me encueraron y me revisaron todo, la lengua, los ojos y los pies, todo. VC: ¿Todo? LC: Encuerado. VC: ¿Dónde?, ¿cuando ya estando aquí o en México? LC: En México. VC: ¿En México? ¿Cuando ya estaba aquí a la frontera o allá? LC: Allá en Irapuato, allá encueraban a uno, ahí el doctor te revisaba. Y que: “Puedes pasar”. Y también aquí en Mexicali, no, en este, Empalme, Sonora también el doctor te revisaba todo, todo, todo. Y te decía: “Pos ya puedes pasar”, y te daban un papelito. “Puede pasar por Caléxico a la hora que usted quiera con este papelito, ahí lo están esperando. Ahí le van a dar de comer en el camino con ese papelito”. En el tren te daban una bolsa de comer y ya en otro, otra bolsa. VC: Entonces, ¿usted tomaba un tren de Guanajuato para Caléxico? LC: No, cada, son tres historias. En Guanajuato me echaban al tren y me dieron una bolsa. En Hermosillo otra bolsa, así hasta que llegaba a Caléxico y ya pasaban, me esperaba un bus y en Empalme igual, te echaban al tren y te daban de comer, ya revisado y todo tu papel para entrar. Y aquí en Mexicali lo mismo, te daban un papelito, pasaba por la línea hasta el corralón, andábamos en el centro del corralón. El corralón era como un centro de atención donde hay muchas camas y comedores, todo ahí en el centro. VC: Y, ¿tenía que cocinar usted para sí mismo o le daban? LC: No, ahí te dan. VC: ¿Ahí le daban? LC: Y de ahí: “Fulano de tal, ¿quieres ir para Stockton, para Blythe, para…?”. Muchos pueblos. “Yo quiero ir pa Stockton”. VC: ¿Usted escogía a dónde ir? LC: Ey, para donde ibas a ir. Yo escogí pa Stockton, pa allá. 2do: El melón. LC: Ey. VC: ¿Usted cómo sabía que… nada más? LC: Oía decir que se ganaba buen dinero, voy. VC: ¿Qué les dijeron las autoridades ya sea mexicanas o norteamericanas que podía esperar de su trabajo? LC: Pos nada, nomás trabajar, ganar dinero. VC: ¿Le informaron ellas algo acerca de su salario o condiciones de vida, alimentos? LC: No, no. VC: ¿Nada? LC: Nada. VC: ¿No le decían…? LC: “Vas a ir a un campo donde te van a dar de comer y te van a sacar a trabajar y a los quince días te dan tu cheque”. VC: ¿Es lo que le decían? LC: Ajá. VC: Usted siempre entonces cruzó la frontera en Mexicali. LC: Sí, en Mexicali. VC: ¿La cruzó ahí? LC: Ey, de bracero y de alambre y de todo. VC: ¿Se acuerda cómo, físicamente cómo…? ¿Me puede describir dónde los recibían en Mexicali? LC: Pos el, en el mismo centro de aquí de El Centro, California, nos traían de allá de Sonora y de Mexicali en el mismo centro. VC: ¿Es ahí donde dice que eran muchas camas? LC: Sí, muchas camas y comedores y todo ahí. Cuando lo subían a uno, de ahí salías pa una parte que tú quisieras, luego te echaban en un bus y hasta donde ibas, a Salinas o al este, Stockton o así. VC: ¿Qué tuvo que hacer para obtener su permiso de trabajo? ¿Le hicieron, ya dijo que le hicieron un examen médico, pero le dieron inmunizaciones? LC: No, nada. VC: ¿Nada? LC: Nomás te examinaban, ya: “Te van a dar un contrato para que vayas a trabajar”. “[Es]tá bien”. “Te vamos a dar de comer y van a venir por ti en un bus”. Muchos no, como treinta o cuarenta en el bus. VC: ¿Se le permitía tener con usted algunos objetos personales? LC: No. VC: ¿Nada? ¿No lo dejaban tener nada? 2do: Dile cuándo estuvistes aquí con el Aufle. LC: Con el Aufle estuve muchos años, llegaba de allá de Irapuato o Mexicali, con este patrón. VC: ¿Con el mismo? LC: Yo decía que quería irme con él este… “Tá bien, te vamos a mandar a”… “Venga por él”. Venía el patrón y ya me llevaba. El contrato lo hacen con ellos. VC: ¿Con ellos? Entonces, ¿usted trabajó con diferentes…? LC: Patrones. VC: Con diferentes patrones. LC: En Caléxico con otro y aquí con otro y en Blythe con otro y en Stockton con otro, ansina. 2do: Pero donde ya te quedastes estable fue con El Venado. LC: Con el Aufle. Ahí comencé de alambre en 1948 sin papeles. Ahí trabajé después de bracero y después de emigrado, dos, tres… VC: Entonces, ¿usted antes trabajaba, antes de ser bracero trabajaba…? LC: Sin papeles. VC: ¿Sin papeles? LC: Sin papeles, ahí con el patrón ése. VC: Con el patrón… LC: Con Ben Aufle en Thermal. VC: Okay, ¿en Thermal? LC: Y él me tenía sin papeles, después de bracero, después de emigrado y así. VC: Ah, okay, entonces con ese patrón se quedó por mucho tiempo. LC: Sí, mucho tiempo. 2do: Él es el que le dio o lo buscó, porque él vive, el patrón de él, el americano vive y lo buscó mi hijo para que le diera un comprobante que le estaban pidiendo. LC: Que quería el bracero, una mica que le dan cuando fuiste bracero, cuando yo entré de vuelta me la quitaron y ya no me la dieron. Entonces no pude comprobarle con este señor que yo fui bracero. Y: “¿No tienes cartilla?”. La perdí también. 2do: Y este patrón, su patrón éste de… LC: “Yo respondo por él, háblenme lo que quieran preguntarme, aquí está mi teléfono de mi casa, todo”. 2do: Le mandó el papel donde él trabajó con él, tal fecha cuando estuvo de bracero y le mandó los talones de cheque cuando él le pagaba. Él se los tiene allá en donde está… LC: La Casa del Trabajador. 2do: La Casa del Trabajador. LC: Ahí está un sobre, ahí está adentro. 2do: Ahí los tienen, todo. VC: Okay. 2do: Tienen sus papeles de él. Y dijo él: “Aquí va esta carta para si quieren preguntarme a mí… LC: “Háblenme por teléfono y les contesto todo lo que ustedes pregunten”. 2do: “Para dar datos tuyos, que tú fuiste mi trabajador de bracero”. LC: Y él fue el que me arregló también después de bracero, de Migración. VC: Ese patrón también. LC: El patrón. VC: Entonces fue un patrón bueno. LC: Bueno. Hizo una carta: “Yo respondo por él por $250,000 dólares, que es hombre bueno, trabajador, no es matón, no es ratero, nada”. 2do: “Y le doy la carta para su familiar, para que pasen para los Estados Unidos”. VC: Entonces, ¿él también ayudó para…? LC: Ey. 2do: Él mismo nos arregló, el patrón. LC: Con todos mis muchachos, cinco. 2do: Con mis cinco hijos, él dio la carta para que me pasara y sí. LC: También el cónsul me dijo: “Señor, ¿a qué va a los Estados Unidos?”. “A trabajar”. “¿Con qué?”. “Con los brazos”. “Mire señor, le voy a preguntar una pregunta muy sencilla, en caso que otro país nos ande invadiendo a nosotros los americanos, ¿usted está dispuesto a defendernos con las armas?”. “Sí”. “Lo tiene que registrar”. Soy soldado registrado, me tocó de evi one(??). VC: Entonces, ¿usted se fue a una guerra? LC: No, me registré nomás, porque estaba comprometido a ayudarles a pelear con las armas. Es lo que dije yo, pues, nomás, no jui ni nada, pero si no hubiera dicho eso, me hubiera aventado pa fuera, ¿verdad, muchacha? Yo la malicié, ¿pa qué me querían si yo les ayudaba a pelear? VC: Sí. Entonces, ¿cuántos años trabajó oficialmente de bracero? LC: Por ahí como unos, como unos cuatro, cinco años, por ahí. VC: Del [19]50… LC: No, del mismo contrato. En Irapuato uno, en Empalme otros, en Mexicali otros, así. 2do: Pero trabajastes muchos años de bracero. LC: Sí, ey. Trabajé como seis años. 2do: No, fue mucho, yo tenía chiquillos. LC: No me acuerdo de cada contrato que me dieron en Empalme cuántos años duré, lo renovaba y lo renovaba y lo renovaba. 2do: Tenía a mis hijos chiquillos de aquí de Mexicali, estaba de… LC: Tenía como seis, seis años el chiquito que trajistes de allá de Guadalajara. 2do: No, tenía seis años el, no… LC: Más grande. 2do: Sí, el más grande tenía seis años, cinco años el más grande. Y de mis niñas, la chiquita tenía dos años. Cuando yo me vine a Mexicali, él ya estaba de… VC: De bracero. 2do: De bracero. LC: Ey. VC: A ver, entonces, ¿en cuántos lugares diferentes trabajó? LC: En Stockton, en este, Salinas, en Caléxico y en este, Blythe. 2do: En Imperial. LC: Pos es el mismo, Imperial ahí, Caléxico, pues, es todo el Valle Imperial. En ése, ahora verás, ahí en Blythe no sé qué condado será ahí en Blythe. VC: Con la ciudad es suficiente. LC: La ciudad de Blythe, de Caléxico, de Stockton, de Salinas, nomás. 2do: Y en Coachella. LC: Y Coachella, pues. 2do: En Thermal. LC: En Thermal. VC: ¿En cuál lugar pasó más tiempo? LC: Aquí en el Thermal. VC: ¿El Thermal? LC: Ey. VC: Y, ¿cómo supo de ese lugar, nada más le tocó de suerte o alguien le dijo? LC: Nomás decía: “Pos voy a calar”. Y así como todos, me fui pa Salinas, pa Stockton y así. Dicen que allá se gana buen dinero. “Pos me voy para allá”. Contratos, pues, como en Salinas por el contrato de melón, tanto piscabas, más ganabas. Corre y corre y corre con tu bote y echando al troque. “Sale un troque, sale otro”. Hacíamos hasta diez troques. VC: Y, ¿qué cosechaba en Thermal? LC: Melón. VC: ¿Melón? LC: No, ¿en Thermal? VC: Sí. LC: No, en Thermal trabajaba yo en la uva, de regador, de todo. 2do: Palmero. LC: De las palmas, de todo trabajaba yo. VC: Entonces eran varias cosas. LC: Como se acaba lo de la palma allá y luego sigue el trabajo, podar uva y piscar ocra y regador y tractorista, de todo. Era mecánico, pues de las éstas… Hacía sillas pa las palmas, enderezaba escaleras, era güeldeador [welder], tractorista, carapilero [Caterpillar], todo, de todo. VC: ¿Cuántos braceros trabajaban con usted? LC: ¿Hombres? VC: Vamos a decir en Thermal. LC: Trabajaban como unos veinte. VC: ¿Veinte braceros? De los otros braceros que trabajaban con usted, ¿hizo usted algunas amistades? LC: Sí. VC: ¿Sí? ¿Amistades duraderas? Como, ¿todavía los conoce? LC: Unos ya se murieron, otros ya no están, pos ya se desaparecieron, ya de amigos nomás, Leonardo. 2do: Unos ya murieron. LC: Ey. 2do: Su mayordomo que fue de ahí de Thermal, ya murió. LC: Otros se fueron de aquí y ya nomás quedan como unas dos, por ahí. VC: ¿Tuvo usted otros patrones que contrataran a personas ilegalmente? No por, ya sé que en Thermal a usted lo contrataron. LC: Sí, aquí en Coachella, míster Alleson. VC: ¿También? LC: Ey, había alambres también. VC: ¿Cuál era la actitud hacia ellos? LC: Este, era un empaque de dátil y ahí trabajábamos moliendo dátil, piscando nuez, piscando dátil y trabajábamos todos, alambres y braceros y emigrados de aquí, todos. VC: Y, ¿los trataban a ellos mal o bien? LC: También bien nos trataban. VC: ¿Los trataba a todos bien? LC: Eran los patrones más buenos que había, porque no es que en otras partes quieres fallar porque tu hijo está mal. “No, o te corro”, o algo así. Y él era muy bueno. “Váyase”. Venías y entrabas y te ibas otra vez así, cuando tu niño estaba malo. “Váyase”, así. No pagaba mucho, pero buena gente el hombre. A veces te pagan mucho, pero muy delicados, nomás fallas y estás corrido. VC: ¿Entonces usted tenía mucho contacto con el patrón? LC: Sí, ey, sí. Yo le pisé la sombra como quién dice, me quiso mucho a mí, porque fui subiendo yo solo. Y yo fui el que le dije: “Mire patrón, yo lo hago rico a usted, tengo mucha cabeza”. “A ver, dime de qué modo”. “Compre una máquina y yo le muevo los dátil, compre una máquina y yo le cuezo el dátil, compre todo lo que se necesita, un troque, y yo le acarreo todo eso”. “¿De veras?”. “Sí”. Compró la máquina para cocer el dátil, y yo sin saber se lo cocí, bueno salía. Yo después me hice famoso. “Tráibanse el maíz a cocer ahí”. Y a moler azúcar. “Yo le hago azúcar de la buena. Si no vende veinte, treinta, me dice lo que quiera decir”. Hacía azúcar de dátil, yo la molía y la sorteaba y cajeríos que compraban. “Y pa pasar el inspector, yo le digo cuál dátil pasa y cuál no pasa”, en las cajas nomás. Y el patrón me puso mucha fe: “Dos hombres me lo enseñaron, no pasa eso”. “Tá bueno, no pasa”. El inspector me enseñó: “El que la caja que le veas mucho portito atrás, está podrido, si no le ves, está bueno”. VC: Está bueno. LC: “Y si dudas, agarra cincuenta dátiles, si salen doce, trece, no pasa. Si salen tres, está buena”. El inspector me enseñó. Y el patrón ya a la vista ya, me tenía fe. Cuatrocientos o mil cajas, yo los tenía que ver, y pasaban. “Agárrate dos hombres y nomás que te lo enseñe”. “Tá buena, no sirve, tá buena”, ansina. Y me hice famoso. “Y como esta luz yo la compongo”. “Que no quiero”. “Yo la compongo”. “¿Tú sabes?”. “No, pero yo la compongo”. No tiene chiste, tienen un botoncito que se llama estarte [start], se lo pones ya o la barra ya adentro, ya lo podía, porque ya se trataba de…Ey. Que viene de ahí, de otro alambre de allá, no está bien, pero cosas así. Como hoy que no quiere. “Ahorita la prendo”. Se llama estarte [start] un tubito que le pone, se lo quitas y le pones otro y ya está”. “Te voy a subir el sueldo. Mira, esta máquina tiene como dos, tres años que nadie la ha echado a andar”. “Yo la echo a andar”. “¿La echas?”. “Sí”. La sorté al mes. “La compongo, yo la compongo”. “¿Eres mecánico?”. “No, pero yo la compongo”. VC: Entonces, su patrón le tenía mucha fe. LC: Mucha fe. No tenía chiste, el espraque [spark] daba vuelta. Y a otro le dije: “Oyes, ¿qué hago pa darle vuelta?”. “Ponle un drill, un pozo y le aprietas el pin y ya no se le pela el espraque [spark]”. Es una estrella de, que va dando vuelta, daba vuelta aquí en el chef(?), en el eje, no agarraba. Y le puse así y ya da vuelta. “Ya está la máquina”. VC: Sí. LC: Me agarró mucha fe, me pagaba el más sueldo. Yo ganaba $80 dólares en la noche y $80 dólares en el día. En ese tiempo que ganaba $3 pesos la hora. VC: ¿Le ganaba $3 pesos a la hora? LC: Eran $3 pesos, ey. 2do: Pagaban muy barato. VC: Sí, oh, sí, pero he oído como de $0.85 centavos. LC: Allá con Ben Aufle ganaba $0.75 centavos la hora, ¿verdad? 2do: Sí, $0.75 centavos le pagaban. Pero entonces estaba más barato todo, la comida. LC: Me salí de ahí porque fíjate, rayaba a la quincena $75 dólares y $75 dólares eran de la renta y luego para pagar la luz y el gas, no salía. “Me voy a ir de aquí patrón, porque no es justo. No me quiere pagar más, está bien, yo también no tengo dinero para pagar”. Me fui con un, otro patrón, pero ya tenía mis papeles, ya estaba emigrado. VC: Sí. LC: Entonces, tractorista. “¿Sabe manejar Caterpillar?”. “Sí, señor”. “¿De cuál Caterpillar?”. “De la que me ponga”. “Y, ¿tractores?”. “El que me ponga”. “¿De qué marca?”. “De la que sea”. Me dijo: “Oyes muchacho, estás muy joven, ¿para dónde se comienza a dar vuelta el tractor?”. “Pa la izquierda”. “Y, ¿de cuántos pasos corta la maela(?)?”. Porque hace un tramo y le das vuelta y vuelta y vuelta hasta que se cierra. “De diez pasos tá bien”. “Y, ¿en qué velocidad lo vas a cambiar?”. “En la tercera”. “No, yo te ordeno que en la cuarta”. ¿No ves que los carros que tienen acá en la primera, si lo pones en la cuarta y le haces así, no puede? Es la primera y luego segunda y luego tercera y luego la cuarta. “Pues yo te ordeno que en la cuarta, con el pie lo pones”. “Está bueno”. “Mira, mueve el tractor, así que se qu[i]ebre, no le hace, yo soy el patrón, yo te mando a ti”. “Órale”. VC: ¿Alguna vez fueron las autoridades mexicanas a uno de los lugares donde usted trabajó? LC: Pues La Migración caiba [caía] seguido. VC: ¿La Migración? LC: Ey. VC: ¿Sí? Y, ¿qué? LC: Pos se llevaba a los que había. VC: Los que habían encontrado. LC: Ey. Pos, va por historias, cuando le querían convencer, dormíamos en el río con el colchón y llegaban al campo y no había nada. Después se dieron cuenta que dormíamos allá, allá llegaron, levantaron a todos, ey. Después yo dormía arriba de la casa, ¿verdad? Llegaban ahí, pos no, subía mi escalera y cuando bajaba, la bajaba la escalera. De ese modo no me agarraban. Yo tengo mi historia ahí en Indio, me agarró el emigrante de la mano así y que le pongo unas patadas y que corro y que me sigue y me di vuelta en una casa y que me meto aquí debajo. Y luego me pegué arriba, debajo de la casa y se asomó: “No, aquí no hay nada”. Pos yo estaba pegado. Y el patrón dijo: “¿Saben qué? Háblenle a los trabajadores, busquen al señor (ininteligible) allá. Háblenle a Chavira que yo le ordeno que salga. Voy a llevar a entregar porque ando muy enojado”. Me agarró el patrón: “Te voy a llevar a entregar y te voy a dar dinero para que vayas a arreglar allá”. “Tá bien”. Lleganos, nos pusieron en un cuartito ahí en Indio, como esa puerta tiene un agujerito ansina y ahí vía yo por el agujerito nomás. “Julano de tal y julano de tal”. Dije: “Ya se van pa Mexicali y me van a dejar aquí, ya me voy”. Abrí la puerta y me subí al bus. Y allá le dije: “Mira, me voy a sentar aquí agachado y te sientas arriba de mí, porque me andan buscando, me pelé del cuarto”. “Ah, tá bueno”. Se sentó en mi espalda el muchacho y llegaron: “One, two, three, four, sixty, no hay nada”. Y: “One, two, three, sixty, sesenta llevamos, no hay nada, ¿pa dónde se fue? Si aquí estaba, lo teníamos aquí cerrado con llave, pos sabe”. Tengo mi historia, habrán pensado que era mago o algo, me desaparecí. “Yo vi que estaba allá”. “Yo también”. Y allá decían: “Julano de tal, dos; julano de tal, tres; julano, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete”. Salí yo. “Julano de tal, ocho”. Quién sabe al último cómo le iría, yo salí. Pero esa fue la historia en Indio. VC: ¿Cómo se comunicaba con su familia como con su esposa? LC: Iba, salía yo y me volvía a meter. VC: ¿Nada más? LC: Ey. VC: ¿Se iba por cuánto tiempo? LC: No, por lo más, unas, de alambre, pos ya aquí ya no estaba de alambre, nomás cuando ella vivía allá en Jalisco, sí estaba de alambre. Pero ya aquí ya no, ya de bracero y emigrado. Me iba y venía en mi carrito. VC: Oh, okay. ¿Ya hasta tenía carrito cuando era bracero? LC: Ya tenía carrito, sí. De bracero tenía carrito. VC: Y, ¿le daba permiso su patrón para ir? LC: Me iba en la noche, venía en la mañana. VC: Oh, porque estaba cerquita de donde… LC: Sí, ahí en Thermal. VC: Sí. Entonces, ¿qué a menudo iba?, ¿veía usted a su familia durante ese tiempo?, ¿como cada semana? LC: ¿Cuándo? VC: Cuando estaba su familia en… LC: ¿Mexicali? Yo iba cada sábado. VC: ¿Cada sábado? Entonces cada semana. LC: Ey. 2do: Y me llevaba dinero cada, porque yo ahí vivía, ahí vivía con mis hijos. Iba y me llevaba dinero y se venía. Se iba el sábado y el domingo en la tarde ya se venía otra vez, pa estar listo el lunes pa trabajar. LC: Ey. VC: ¿Cuántos días a la semana trabajaba? LC: Toda la semana. Por quincena. VC: Pero entonces, ¿trabajaba lunes a sábado? 2do: Hasta sábado. LC: Sí, hasta sábado. VC: ¿De qué horas a qué horas? LC: De la mañana a las seis, hasta las cuatro, por ahí. VC: ¿Las cuatro de la tarde? LC: Ey. VC: ¿Cuál era, como un día normal vamos a decir en Thermal, qué hacían? LC: Pos había muchos trabajos, había unos que iban a podar uva, otros iban a piscar hasta toronja, otros iban a limpiar uva con azadón, otros iban a hacer trabajos diferentes. Repartían la gente, otros a polonizar las palmas. Se sube uno, llevas aquí hilos y una bolsa de polvo y te subes con un cuchillo y lo polonizas el bonche, le pones el polvo pa que dé dátil, si no, no da dátil. VC: Y, ¿a qué horas comía? LC: A medio día. VC: Y, ¿comía en la mañana o no? LC: No. VC: ¿No? LC: Ya íbamos almorzados, nomás llegar a trabajar, a medio día comer y quebrada de los diez minutos: “Y vámonos ya”. A cenar ya… VC: ¿Qué tipo de comida comían? LC: Comíamos frijoles, carne con tortillas de harina. VC: ¿Sí tenían carne? LC: Sí. El patrón nos daba cazuela y ahí tenía estufa de leña, cocinábamos ahí, echábanos tortillas con el palo y comíamos café. VC: Y, ¿cooperaban para comprar la carne? LC: Cada uno comía su comida que quería. Tenía su cajón, como ahora, aquí hay harto comida, frijoles, nopales, arroz. VC: Entonces, ¿ustedes mismos compraban el mandado cada…? LC: Sí, sí, el patrón respondía fiado por, cuando llegaba la quincena, íbamos y pagábamos. VC: ¿Entonces ustedes cocinaban para sí mismos? LC: Nosotros… cada uno para cada uno. VC: Describa cómo vivía y cómo estaba amueblado. LC: Este, vivíamos en un bonque [bunker], le dicen, un, como un cuarto grande, donde alcanzan así como unas cuarenta camas derechas pa allá y otras cuarenta camas pa acá. Un piso de abajo y otro piso de arriba tenía la cama ansina. Y cobijas y almohadas y colchones te daban. VC: ¿Sí? LC: Ahí cada uno dormía, ahí reconocías dónde duermes. Unos arriba y otros abajo. VC: Sí. LC: Había escusados y baños para todos. VC: ¿Había un baño? LC: Había muchos. VC: Okay. LC: Había como unos diez, por ahí. VC: ¿Había drenaje y todo? LC: Sí. VC: ¿Cómo hacía para lavar su ropa? LC: Pos ahí la lavamos en, ahí mismo poquito, ey. Había unos como, donde se lava uno las manos, ahí la lavábamos, ey. VC: ¿Le proporcionaba su patrón artículos de uso personal como cepillo de dientes, jabón, toallas? LC: No, no. VC: Eso ustedes tenían que comprarlo. LC: Sí. Navaja pa rasurarse uno, jabón pa bañarse, todo eso. VC: Todo ustedes mismos. LC: Ey. VC: ¿Le pagaban a usted en cheque o con efectivo? LC: En cheque cada quincena. VC: Y, ¿cómo cambiaba de cheque? LC: Veníamos con el, donde sacaba fiado el patrón la comida, le pagábamos con el cheque y él rebajaba lo que le debíamos y ya no la cambiaba él. VC: ¿Entonces no les cobraba por cambiarles el cheque? LC: No, no nos cobraba. VC: Y, ¿sí se las arregló para ahorrar dinero? LC: Sí. VC: ¿Sí? LC: Sí, yo no gastaba en nada, nomás hace y hace, le daba a un señor que me metiera al banco todo mi dinero. Yo no dejaba nada, no lo ocupaba, ahí la comida nos la fiaban. VC: Nomás cuando cambiaba su cheque. LC: Nomás. Se los daba y metía al banco y mandaba a mi mamá, mande y mande y mande. VC: ¿Le mandaba a su mamá también? LC: Sí. Juntaba un cheque, dos cheques o tres cheques, ya después le decía a mi amigo que me los cambiara y me los cambiaba. Y mandaba un, y luego marcamos un money order pa mandarlo. De a $500, de a $200, le mandaba a mi mamá. Y cuando vine ya, dije: “Ya me voy”. Una tía me mandó decir que no mandara tanto dinero porque lo estaba tirando mi mamá. “Ya no mandes, hijo”. “No, está bien”. Ya no mandé. Dije: “Voy a ir y me voy a casar”, estaba muchacho. VC: Entonces, oh, cuando andaba de alambre. LC: De alambre estaba de muchacho. Me fui, me casé y me vine de vuelta de alambre otra vez. VC: Entonces le mandaba el dinero a su esposa. LC: Ey, entonces ya le mandaba a mi señora, lo que pensé. Yo desde chico pensé, de doce años, venirme, comprar un carro y mandar dinero y casarme y volverme a ir y así lo hice. Tuve a mi señora, tuve el primer hijo y me vine. Y ya le mandaba a ella. Y seguí, todo el tiempo, toda mi vida fue de bracero. 2do: Pero cuando ya nació mi hijo, mi primer hijo, nació, me casé en el [19]52 yo, y él, nació mi hijo en el [19]53, al año, luego nació. Y entonces él se vino, me dejó ya aliviada. Él se vino a contratar, es cuando se vino a contratar ahí a Empalme, ¿no? LC: Empalme, sí. 2do: Fue cuando él ya se vino ahí a contratar. LC: Empalme, Sonora. 2do: Emplame, Sonora. VC: Ah, okay. 2do: Porque él estuvo de alambre cuando estaba soltero, chavalo. Ya después… LC: Yo me casé y ya… VC: Se vino como bracero. 2do: Se vino y se contrató y me dijo: “Ya estoy contratado”, me dijo a mí, me escribió. Yo tenía a mi hijo chiquito. Me alivié en el [19]53 y yo me casé en el [19]52 y al año nació mi hijo, ahorita tiene él cincuenta y… ahorita ya tengo más de cincuenta años yo casada. VC: Felicidades, entonces. 2do: Ay, gracias. Si tengo cincuenta y cuatro, cincuenta y tres o cincuenta y cuatro años. VC: ¿Alguna vez tuvo algún problema para recibir su pago? LC: No. VC: ¿No? LC: Nunca, no. VC: Y, ¿siempre le pagaban bien para las horas que trabajaba? LC: Sí. VC: ¿Alguna vez tuvo un problema en el trabajo? LC: No. VC: ¿No, nada? LC: Nada. VC: ¿Qué sucedía en caso de accidente o enfermedad? LC: No, pos no pasaba ni un accidente ahí. VC: ¿No? LC: No. VC: Okay. LC: Que se haya machucado, se haya caído de la palma, no. VC: ¿No? ¿Cuáles eran las quejas más comunes, como comida? LC: Era de sueldos, que quería más sueldo la gente. VC: ¿Sí? LC: Nos pagaban a $0.75 centavos, después ya llegó a peso y después a $2 y ansina. Eran los trabajadores que se alborotaban y decían: “No, pos quiero más sueldo, pos tá de rudo el trabajo”. Y nos iba subiendo poco a poco, que hasta de $5 pesos a $1.25, a $2 y así. VC: Entonces, si a alguien no le gustaba el trabajo, ¿qué podía hacer? LC: Se iba. VC: ¿Se iba? LC: Se iba. VC: ¿Aunque estuviera contratado? LC: No, de contratado nunca peleamos sueldo. Lo que nos pagaban, eso, porque no había derechos de que uno pidiera sueldo. Ya venía por La Asociación de lo que ibas a ganar, de alambre o así, sí o cualquiera persona de aquí o de allá pedía, si no le convenía, pos se iba, pero de bracero no. VC: ¿Encontró algún tipo de discriminación? LC: No. VC: ¿Alguna vez usted o alguno de sus compañeros de trabajo organizaron una protesta laboral? LC: No, los que juntaban nomás de sueldo, que queríamos sueldo. VC: Nomás se juntaba y… LC: Ir con el patrón: “Queremos más sueldo”. “No, pos pérense”. Él tenía, era el papá y el hijo. “Déjenme hablar con mi papá, sí está bueno, esperen su deste”. Sí nos aumentaban. VC: Oh, ¿sí? Entonces se juntaban varios de ustedes. LC: Todos. VC: ¿Todos? LC: Todos. VC: Iban y pedían. LC: Ahí se juntaban los que estaban emigrados, los nacidos aquí y nosotros, todos. VC: Todos. LC: Sí nos aumentaban. VC: Y, ¿qué hacía en sus días de descanso cuando no se iba a su casa? LC: Pos me iba pa Mexicali, otros se iban pa otras partes. VC: Entonces era libre de ir y venir. LC: Ey. VC: ¿Qué hacían para divertirse? LC: Pos los que estaban ahí, se iban a las cantinas y yo me iba con mi mujer. VC: ¿Tenían radios? LC: Ey, teníamos radio. VC: Y, ¿había una estación en español? LC: Sí. VC: Porque estaba cerquitas de la frontera, ¿verdad? LC: Sí. Tenía un radio yo grande que agarraba la capital de México también. VC: ¿Sí? LC: Sí, un radio que se llama Mundial. Están así de grandes y así. VC: Y agarraba la… LC: La capital de México agarraba. De Mexicali, Rosarito, de, de muchas partes agarraba, Tijuana. Ahí nomás le cambiaba donde quisiera agarrar. VC: ¿Cómo celebraba Semana Santa o Navidad? LC: No celebrábamos casi. VC: ¿No? LC: No, puro trabajar. “Día de fiestas, vamos a jalar”. “Vamos”. VC: ¿Les daban los días festivos o no? LC: No. VC: ¿No? LC: Pues nomás como el domingo no trabajábamos, pero… VC: Pero la Navidad no se la daban. LC: No. VC: ¿Celebraban ustedes en grupo o así los días festivos mexicanos? LC: Nada. VC: ¿No? LC: Nada celebrábamos. VC: Cuando era bracero, ¿usted encontró uniones, había relación entre uniones, todavía no estaban organizando? LC: Nada, nada, tampoco. VC: ¿No? LC: Ni una unión, ni nada tampoco. VC: Y, ¿cómo eran las relaciones entre los braceros y La Policía, vamos a decir? LC: No, no hubo nada de policías, no. VC: ¿No? LC: El único que iba ahí La Migración a revisar si tienen papeles. No hallaban nadie, nos dejaban ir. VC: Creo que ya casi terminamos. LC: Okay. VC: Nada más vamos a la reflexión. ¿Qué significa el término bracero para usted? LC: ¿Qué significa? Pos nomás recuerdos que quedaron. VC: ¿Cómo se siente usted de que lo llamen bracero? LC: Bien, igual. VC: ¿Igual? LC: Si me dicen bracero, está bien, si no me dicen, pos tá igual. VC: ¿Está igual? LC: Ey. VC: ¿Sus recuerdos de haber trabajado como bracero son positivos o negativos? LC: Son pos, recuerdo bien, pos que fue de bracero, pues, no todos tenemos la virtud de ser braceros, está trabajoso pa entrar de bracero. VC: ¿El haber sido bracero cambió su vida de alguna manera? LC: Pos, más mejor, porque ganaba aquí y luego iba pa con mi familia, allá no era bueno no ser bracero, aquí gano dinero y rinde más que allá. VC: Sí. LC: Cuando menos tiene la señora más posibilidades de comida buena. Entonces pos… 2do: Y pa darle uno estudio a sus hijos, para darles, siquiera mandarlos a la escuela. LC: Su ropita y todo eso. 2do: Era más ayuda. Y yo le dije: “Mira”, le dije, “como tú ya”… Muchos se caían de, oíamos decir… LC: Palmas. 2do: Que se caiban de las palmas. LC: No se mataban, pero quedaban malas. 2do: Y yo tenía miedo. Un día se puede caer, y no. Y le dije: “¿Sabes qué? Salte de ahí y vete a otro trabajo”, le dije. LC: “Yo te ayudo a trabajar pa poder sostener a la familia”. 2do: “Y yo te ayudo, yo te ayudo a trabajar y trabajo yo, lo que yo gane es para vestir a mis hijos y tú para la comida y la renta”. VC: La casa. 2do: Ey, la casa. Y así le hicimos. LC: Yo no quería porque yo soy un hombre de esos rudos de allá de Jalisco, que son machos pa trabajar, no quiero que la mujer trabaje. “Yo puedo, ¿cómo no?”. Y luego que otro me la gana. 2do: Pero yo le dije por la buena: “Es que te voy a ayudar y ya no quiero que trabajes en eso tú y vamos a mantener a nuestros hijos y vamos a trabajar los dos”. Aquí en Estados Unidos todo el tiempo la mujer trabaja, aquí, en México no. VC: En México no. 2do: Pero aquí sí. LC: Recibía consejos de otros que saben. “Mira, puede bailar, no te la quitan, puede trabajar y no te la quitan. La señora del presidente de los Estados Unidos trabaja, ella no tiene necesidad de trabajar pero trabaja ayudando al esposo en los negocios y así”. Y jui agarrando la onda, pues. 2do: Y sí estamos bien, estamos bien, nomás que ahora que salió eso que el de los braceros, ¿verdad?, dice él: “Pues yo trabajé de bracero”. LC: Pos sí, pos nos dieron alta, poco duro, pero a ver no hay que perder esperanza. 2do: O algo que no me den, pos. Y, ¿qué piensan?, ¿que no van a…? VC: Eso nosotros no sabemos, no tenemos nada que ver con lo que es el Gobierno y así. Estamos haciendo… LC: Es un estudio del colegio. 2do: Sí, ustedes están haciendo… LC: Cómo vivía la gente de bracero. 2do: Cómo vivió, cómo los trataron a los braceros, cómo fueron ellos, ¿verdad? Es una historia que están sacando. VC: ¿Había algo más que quería decir? LC: No. VC: Okay, déjeme apagar esto. Aquí terminó la entrevista. Fin de la entrevista Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 44:00 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Chavira_Carrillo_COA017 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Leonardo Chavira Carrillo Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Leonardo Chavira Carrillo was born in Zacoalco de Torres, Jalisco, México, on December 19, 1929; his dad worked in the fields and as a mason; he had three brothers and two sisters; when he was about thirteen years old, he began helping his father work the land; consequently, he was formally educated only through the third grade; in 1948, he came to the United States as an undocumented worker, but he was later able to work for the same employer through the bracero program, and yet again later when he permanently immigrated; as a bracero he worked in the fields, and he also completed various odd jobs. Summary of Interview: Mr. Chavira briefly mentions his family; in 1948, he came to the United States as an undocumented worker, but he was later able to work for the same employer through the bracero program, and yet again later when he permanently immigrated; he initially paid a coyote to help him go through the process at the contracting center in Irapuato, Guanajuato; in addition, he later went to centers in Empalme, Sonora, and Mexicali, Baja California; he also describes the physical examinations he underwent while at these centers and transportation from there to the border; while in the program he worked in the fields of California picking various products including fruits, nuts, and vegetables, watering crops, driving tractors, laboring as a mechanic, and he also completed various odd jobs; he goes on to detail the various worksites, duties, housing, provisions, payment, and remittances; as a bracero, he stayed with the same employer for some time, and they developed a good relationship; during this time his wife and family moved to Mexicali, Baja California, México, and he was able to go home and see them on weekends; he also mentions that undocumented workers were employed alongside braceros; immigration officials would often go to the worksites to check for proper documentation; he describes some of the things the men would do to avoid getting caught; he concludes by stating that he has good memories of the program, and it helped him earn money to help his family. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Cortez, Veronica Chavira Carrillo, Leonardo Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2006-05-20 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Leonardo Chavira Carrillo Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/corella_elp013_688e8ab4e4.mp3 2ac68e795e176c89ff8e9d37b70fcce9 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Carlos Corella nació el 2 de octubre de 1933 en Clint, Texas, donde creció, se graduó de la escuela secundaria y fue enlistado en el Ejército, donde sirvió entre 1953 y 1955; una vez que recibió la baja fue a trabajar para el Ministerio de Trabajo de los Estados Unidos, en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas. Resumen de la Entrevista: El Sr. Corella describe brevemente su época en el ejército y los distintos lugares por donde viajó, cuando recibió la baja en 1955, fue a trabajar para el Ministerio de Trabajo de Estados Unidos en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento de braceros en Socorro, Texas; mientras estaba allí, lo pusieron a cargo de escoltar a los braceros a través de inmigraciones de ambos lados de la frontera. Recuerda un formulario en particular llamado 414 que debían completar los braceros cuando pasaban por inmigraciones, incluía el nombre, el domicilio, la altura, el peso y una breve descripción física. El Ministerio de Trabajo de Estados Unidos, la Oficina de Inmigraciones de Estados Unidos y el Departamento de Salud Pública de Estados Unidos eran las tres agencias gubernamentales con presencia en el centro de recepción. Cuenta que su primer agenda del día era desinfectar a los braceros y explica cuáles eran las responsabilidades de cada agencia, más tarde pasó a formar parte del equipo de trabajo dentro del centro de recepción. Trabajó un total de tres años en Río Vista, a su entender, el Programa Bracero comenzó en algún momento en 1949 ó 1950, siendo uno de los primeros centros de recepción el del Coliseo del Condado de El Paso; recién después de dos o tres años el centro de procesamiento se trasladó a Río Vista. subject (Spanish) El Ministerio de Trabajo de Estados Unidos Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Craver, Rebecca Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Corella, Carlos Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of Interviewee: Carlos Corella Date of Interview: February 5, 2003 Name of Interviewer: Rebecca Craver Today is February 5, 2003, and this is an interview with Carlos Corella, and I am Rebecca Craver, and this interview will be part of the Bracero Project. RC: Okay, let’s just start kind of with some biographical information, that’s usually the way we start. So, tell me where you were born and when. CC: I was born and raised in Clint; it’s a little town about six miles east of El Paso. I was born on October 2, 1933, which means that I’m going to be seventy here, in three or four months. I graduated from Clint High School. Shortly after my graduation, I was drafted for the Korean War. The Korean War ended two weeks before I finished my infantry training, so we were scattered all over. Fortunately, I was sent to Europe. I spent eighteen months in Germany, and I traveled all over Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Austria, and Switzerland. After my discharge, I went to work for the U.S. Department of Labor, at the bracero reception center, also known as Rio Vista. RC: Okay, so let’s get some of these dates, years, down for me. When did you start service in the Army? Was it ’50? CC: From June of ’53 to April of ’55. RC: Okay. And how did you hear about this job at the Department of Labor? Why did you go to work for them? CC: I don’t really remember. The only thing I can remember is that there were a lot of young men and women working there. I was a mechanic in the Army, and I didn’t want to do anymore mechanic work, so I decided to try Rio Vista, even though I was making probably a third of the money that I would have been making as a mechanic working at Fort Bliss. (interviewer laughs) And that’s how I got started. I started there probably in June of 1955, April or June of 1955, April or May of 1955. Shortly thereafter, I was placed in charge of the importation of the braceros. I had two helpers under me, in addition to two other nongovernmental employees that worked for a contractor that were responsible for feeding the braceros. You want me to follow the progression? RC: Yeah, but let me back up a little bit. What qualified you for the job? CC: There were no specific qualifications. It was not considered a job that required a lot of education or talent, I suppose. The grades were very low, I started as a GS3, if you can imagine, and I think the lowest grade way back then in government services was GS2. Fortunately, I had just gotten out of the service, and I was husky and aggressive, disciplined, and I suppose my supervisors noticed that, and they placed me in charge of the importation of braceros. So, there were no special requirements. RC: And what particular instructions did you have? CC: Absolutely none. (interviewer laughs) My supervisor just said, “Look Carlos, I’m gonna take you over there, and you can watch me, what it is that I’m doing, me and these other two young men.” My supervisor at the time was Teodoro Alejandro, who was the chief of transportation, and he was only a GS7. I say only because I retired as a [GS]13, so you know, to me a [GS]5 was a huge number. But anyway, looking at it retrospectively, he was only a GS5, GS7, and I went over there. We went to the train station in Juárez, and we talked to some Mexican personnel at the train station, and we picked up the list of the braceros, from there, we marched them to downtown Juárez, through the Mexican officials at the Santa Fe Bridge. RC: And how many would be in this group? CC: Anywhere from eight hundred to sixteen hundred, at a time, so getting them from the train station, through the city, and to the bridge was a big problem. RC: Describe what it looked like. CC: Well, fortunately, I was in excellent shape. The train station is about a mile and a half, two miles from the bridge, so I would run that trek three or four times so as to keep order and make sure that the Mexican police in Juárez would assist me in stopping the traffic to let two or three hundred braceros cross the streets, and then they’d open the street back to traffic, and then they’d close it back out, let another two or three hundred braceros cross that particular street, we’re talking about ten, fifteen streets that braceros had to cross, so needless to say, Mexican city police were very occupied (interviewer laughs) in helping me. I’m very, very appreciative that they did that, I don’t think that they did that to assist me, but they did that to assist their own people, because they knew that if someone did not control the traffic, some of the braceros would get hurt, nonetheless, I’m very appreciative that they were helping at the bridge. I would very, very cursorily process them through Mexican immigration, hand them the manifest, which was the list of the braceros, their names and addresses, and I would help Mexican immigration identify them, I said, “Well, these are my people,” you know, “these are the braceros.” RC: At this point they had no ID on them? CC: They had a piece of paper, which we called Form 14, which showed their name, the address, and other information, height, weight, a very brief physical description, that’s about all I remember that was on that sheet of paper, which was about four and a half inches by about seven inches. I would process them through Mexican workers, and then I’d do the same thing, very cursorily, through American immigration. The Mexican and American officials knew me, so they assumed that everybody that was in line crossing the bridge under the guise of a bracero was a bracero. I don’t recall that they ever questioned any individual or me for that matter, “Are you sure that all these people are braceros?” They just had to assume, because otherwise it would have taken us two days to process these people. After the processing went through American immigration, then they were on the U.S. side of the border, and below there is a huge levee where I would congregate ‘em, and I would feed ‘em individually a sack lunch, which consisted of an apple and two gringo bologna sandwiches in a brown paper bag. They would look at it, some of them were surprised, they didn’t know what it was. Some of ‘em that had come before knew that they were bologna sandwiches, and they ate ‘em anyway, they were hungry. The trip, incidentally, going back from Chihuahua to Juárez was a horrendous trip for ‘em. It was by rail, and they were brought over from Chihuahua in cattle cars. I don’t know how many stops they made, but it was about a seven-hour trip. If you can imagine, packed in rail cars, and as I said before, I don’t know whether they made any stops to allow them to relieve themselves. That part of the story I don’t know. I’m sure that the braceros would be able to fill in that portion of it. So, to get back to where we were on the U.S. side of the border, then I would feed ‘em, and they would eat anything, poor devils. Then I would order the buses, I would call the bracero reception center, “I’m ready for the buses,” and the buses were yellow buses that were owned by Orville Story. He was a private contractor with the government. He had about fifty buses, and we would load ‘em onto the buses. The buses would carry them to the bracero reception center, also known as Rio Vista. Until the last bracero left, then I would get on the last bus, and go up to the bracero reception center. Incidentally, most of the braceros would arrive about nine or ten or eleven o’clock in the morning, which means that they were traveling at night, although on occasion, they would come in at three or four or five o’clock in the afternoon, which tells me that they left Chihuahua in the morning. Even the Mexican Nationals that lived around Juárez that wanted to become braceros would have to make the trip to Chihuahua where they were processed by the Mexican government and then sent back to Juárez. So we would process ‘em. They were fed by another private contractor for the U.S. Department of Labor, and way back then, it was Amen Wardy. He was the person in charge of, well the person that fed ‘em, not only there at the levee, but also at the bracero reception center. At the bracero reception center there were hot lunches, and they would consist of several items, some consisted of beans, naturally the Mexican staple, and mashed potatoes, and sometimes ham, and sometimes bologna sandwiches, and sometimes fried pieces of meat. It would vary. RC: How long would the bracero stay at Rio Vista before he was transported out to a job? CC: It would depend. The bracero reception center was always crowded with what we called contractors. Some of the contractors were private contractors that had been hired by farmers. Some of the farmers were local farmers, and some of ‘em were from Dell City and Pecos, and even from out of El Paso, even from out of state. After they would be processed, the first order of business for the braceros when they got to the bracero reception center was that they had to be disinfected, so they would go through U.S. Public Health, one of the governmental agencies there. There were three governmental agencies at the bracero reception center, which were U.S. Public Health, U.S. Department of Labor, for whom I worked, and U.S. Immigration, which also processed them. So, first order of business was to disinfect them. They would go through, they were formed in about four or five lines, they were placed through a Quonset hut, and they were asked to strip, and they were sprayed with a white powder all over their body, including their hair, facial hair, the hair on their head, and even around the low area. Some of the braceros that experienced that for the first time were embarrassed, and some thought it was kind of cute, it was a laughing matter. When they would come out of the Quonset hut, they would look at each other, and they were all white, and they’d say, “Well, I guess we’re gringos now.” (both laugh) Humor was always part of the way that they tolerated the adventure. After they were processed through public health, then we feed them, after we would feed them, then we would send them to a selection line. We called it a selection line, and there the contractors or farmers, whichever would happen to be the case, would speak to them, and based on a very, very short interview, three, four questions: “Do you know how to pick cotton? Do you know how to pick cantaloupe? Do you know how to pick corn? Do know how to pick strawberries? Do you know how to pick watermelons? Do you know how to pick cantaloupe?” Depending on their response, they would choose the braceros. They would select them, and they were considered then the property of that contractor or that farmer. They were placed aside and processed individually under that contractor, under that farmer, and eventually transported to their final destination, either the farm of the individual farmer or wherever the contractor would choose to send them, because the contractors would contract for several farmers. Some of the braceros would leave that afternoon, but most of them would not. I would say about 20 percent would leave that afternoon, which means that 80 percent would have to be housed there. We had four or five barracks, the army type, [with] cots. We would issue blankets at night, whether they needed them or not, if they didn’t need them, they could use them as pillows. The next morning, we would feed them breakfast, and the contractors would be there at seven o’clock in the morning at the selection line to contract more. Well, I need to back up. After they were processed through public health, then they were sent through contracting, no, they were selected and then they were sent through contracting. Contracting wrote up all the contracts, and the contract was very, very extensive. I don’t know whether anybody ever read it, I never read one. They consisted of about three or four pages of small print and in English, mind you. I don’t know that even the contractors read them; I don’t know that even the farmers read them, but it was all legalese. Then they were processed. There were about twenty young pretty ladies, just out of high school, that would type all the documents, insert the names on documents that had already been prepared, and they would then type the name and address of the individual bracero onto the document. A U.S. government official would sign it, the braceros would sign it (coughs) and then they were processed through U.S. Immigration. (coughs) After they were processed through U.S. Immigration, then they were clear to be contracted, and that’s when they were moved to the selection line. Once they were selected, then they would go through the transportation department of the Department of Labor, which is the department for whom I worked, and there at the bracero reception center, they were loaded onto buses or trucks, some of them were cattle trucks, some of them were sixteen-wheelers, eighteen-wheelers, buses, pick-ups. A farmer would come in, and he’d want four or five; he’d take them in the back of his pickup. Some farmer would bring his own bus, he wanted fifty or sixty, and then we wouldn’t see them until four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten months later. But getting back to the 80 percent that remained at the bracero reception center, the next morning, another 20 or 30 percent would leave, they were selected and contracted and processed. Normally, within three and a half days all one thousand or sixteen hundred braceros would be gone, which means that by that time another load of braceros would be coming in [the others would be gone], which was my job to go pick ‘em up and send ‘em to the bracero reception center. RC: Did you ever have trouble, like, doubling up where there would be sixteen hundred at Rio Vista and then here came another shipment? CC: No, no, the timing was practically perfect. The flow of braceros was controlled at Chihuahua, and when my supervisor, the senior manager, Mr. Rhodes, would see that the bracero reception center could accommodate X number of braceros, he would call Chihuahua and say, “Well okay, we’re practically vacant now so you can send another load.” That’s how the population at the bracero reception center was controlled. RC: I see, okay. Now when you talked about feeding them, was there a mess hall at Rio Vista? CC: There was a humongous mess hall that would seat about two hundred at a time. Of course, the braceros got used to the idea of the Army, that you hurry up and wait and stand in line, you stand in line to be fed, you stand in line to be contracted, you stand in line to be processed through immigration, you stand in line to be processed through public health, you stand in line to get blankets, you stand in line to do this and that and the other. That’s where some of the problem would arise for some of the employees, because some of the braceros were not used to discipline. Some of them were so humble, coming from remote villages, that they really didn’t know what an order was. They thought it was easy enough if they would see a friend or a relative at the head of the line, that it was easy enough for him to run, he or three or four of them from the same little town, to run and get in line with his friends. It was up to us to let them know that they had to form the line at the rear. That was the main problem that we had, keeping order, keeping people from bucking the line, as we used call it in the service, forming the line at the end of the line, but other than that, I don’t recall having any major problems. There were a few that were experienced, that had come over as braceros five, six, seven, perhaps even eight or ten times before, so they were not as shy, and they were more daring, and they would try things that the other braceros would not try to do, of course, buck the line, and this and that and the other, cheat as to where they wanted to go. I don’t blame them. Some of them, many of them, had a choice where to go depending on their experience; a lot of them did not. They would try to go to a place where all of their friends and or relatives would be sent to, which is understandable. Sometimes the little groups had to be broken up. I’m gonna get a little ahead of myself, because this remark needs to be made here. After I was no longer in charge of the importation of braceros, I was part of the crew at the bracero reception center. I would overhear some of the braceros wanting to make some kind of a ___(?), some kind of a plan so that they would go to the same farm, and I would tell them, “Well, the best way to do that is when the contractor asks you, ‘Do you know how to pick cotton?’ Tell him, ‘yes,’ even if you’ve never picked it before, you can learn how to pick cotton in fifteen minutes. So, if all of you say yes to just about everything the contractor is asking you, it’s very likely that all of us will go to the same farm. If two or three of you have experience picking cotton and then four or five of you don’t, well you know they’re not going to send you to the same place, because the contractor wants people with experience, because they’re the braceros that pick cotton the quickest and the fastest and who become the most profitable. So, just tell them, no matter what kind of a job you’re gonna do, whether it’s melon picking, watermelon, cherries, strawberries, cotton, corn, whatever, just tell them yeah, you can learn it in five minutes.” I felt kinda obligated to keep some of these humble people together (coughs) although I suppose that I felt kinda guilty, because I used to mistreat them in order to keep order. Even though I was a U.S. government official, I had no time for courtesies. I would look into their bewildered faces and bark orders at them, “Go over there. Run over here. Stand over there,” and they’d wanna ask me questions, “I don’t have time for you, just get in line,” and this and that and the other. I was young and aggressive, and sometimes when they would buck the line, I’d just grab them by the shoulders and just kick them out of the line, throw them out. It seemed that some of the braceros would see that we were so harsh with them that they would make fewer attempts to do the things that they were not supposed to do, and since we didn’t carry weapons, the only thing that we had to keep order was our harsh manner of speaking and hollering at them. RC: Oh gee. Did you have a bullhorn or— CC: Yes, we had bullhorns, and the bracero reception center had a PA system. When we wanted to give orders to the general populous at the center, then of course that was done through the PA system. When we wanted to localize the order to a certain corner of the center, we would use bullhorns. I must also say that at the bracero reception center there was another federal office, and there was the Mexican Consulate. A Mexican consul with two assistants was at the center to, I suppose, keep us from being excessively abusive. When they were coming back after they had completed the contract or when the job had been finished, whichever would come first, they would come back to the bracero reception center, and they would go back home. The Mexican consul would invariably get together with them, every single load, and ask them if they had any complaints, if they had been mistreated, if they had been abused, if they had been exploited, if they had been paid properly. He would prod ‘em, because most of them would not want to complain, understandably, because they anticipated coming back next year, and they got used to the idea that certain exploitation, certain abuse was expected, it was part of being a bracero, so they tolerated it. There were some braceros that were promised X number of dollars, and they were not paid the correct amount. Some of the farmers would have their commissaries, stores on site at the farm, to provide whatever the bracero needed, so that they wouldn’t have to go to town, so that they could work them sometimes seven days a week. The braceros would tell me, and sometimes the Mexican consul, that the prices that they would have to pay at the commissary, at the store at the farm, was inflated 30, 40, 50 percent, sometimes 100 percent, and they would discern that when they would go to town on a weekend, and they would check the prices in the grocery stores in town. (interviewer laughs) They’d say, “Wow, we’re paying too much for our food,” and sometimes they would go back and tell the farmer, “You’ve been charging us too much,” those that had a little more nerve. Some of the farmers would bring down the price. The idea was the farmers to accommodate the braceros, and the braceros to accommodate the farmer in the work. Nonetheless, the farmer had the knife and the cheese, and he would slice it anyway he pleased, so the braceros, was many times victimized. Getting back to my friend who was a Mexican consul, he and I became friends when I was assigned to the bracero reception center and no longer in charge of the importation of the braceros. He saw that I was so harsh with the braceros in my barking orders at them and the way I would handle them, that he gave me the title of Sargento Mal Pagado, which translated literally means the poorly paid sergeant, but what it really connotes, idiomatically, is a sergeant with a bad attitude, because he’s so poorly paid. Sometimes, I would be going by when he was querying them, after their return from the farms, and he would point at me, and he would ask them, in Spanish of course, “¿Cómo los trato el Sargento Mal Pagado?”. “How were you treated by this badass sergeant?” They would look at me and grin, and they didn’t know what to say, and then of course I’d just keep walking, and they were free to speak their mind. I’m sure that there were a lot of complaints that were made to my supervisor about me and about other employees. They were legitimate, but there was no other way to keep order, and finally my supervisors knew that, and finally, I have to assume, the Mexican consul and his assistants discerned the same thing. There’s just no other way but to be very, very harsh with these people, and everything was permissible, other than hitting them, but jerking them out of lines and pushing them, all that was permissible. It was overlooked. I don’t know whether that would be true today, but that way back then, it was permissible. RC: Did everybody at Rio Vista speak Spanish? CC: Yes, well, um— RC: Most of them? CC: Well, I said yes immediately, because every single employee was bilingual. The only non-bilingual personnel was the center manager, Mr. Rhodes, the assistant to the manager, Mr. Rucker, the chief of reception, Mr. Schaeffer, and the chief of contracting, Mr. McDonald, but their assistants were all Mexican American, all bilingual. RC: Okay, for the record, could you give me those people’s first names along with their title? CC: Well, Mr. Rhodes, no, I don’t remember his first name. Mr. Rucker, H.L. Rucker, I don’t remember his first name, was the center assistant. Mr. Schaeffer, chief of reception, I don’t remember his first name, all of us knew him as Mr. Schaeffer, chief of contracting, McDonald, everybody called him. You have to realize that the managers at the bracero reception center were not only older than us, but they were college graduates. Some of them had been officers in the Army. I think McDonald had been a captain in the Army during the Second World War, and Mr. Rucker had been an officer in the Navy. Since they dealt with their assistants who were bilingual, they were not required to be bilingual, because they did not have to deal with the braceros, and that’s why everybody under the managers were required definitely to be bilingual. If you were not bilingual, you could not work there. RC: Okay. That’s good to know. Do any particular incidents stand out in your mind where there was unrest or the braceros disobeyed or caused trouble? CC: There were several instances. Let me go back when I was in charge of the importation of the braceros. Invariably, every single time that I received a load from Chihuahua, there were some people who were trying to buck the line. I got used to that, and invariably, I would have to go to where they would run on to the line, and grab them by the shoulders and pull them out, and stand right in front of their face and yell at them and tell them, “Go back to the end of the line or I’m going to send you back to Mexico, so take your choice.” They knew that I had that authority. We were given the authority that if we found people that would not accept the discipline, that would not take orders, that we could pick up their Form 14, which was their identification. Without that form they couldn’t be processed, and we would isolate them on the manifest, on the list of the braceros, and send them back. I don’t remember ever having to do that more than once or twice, because in spite of the fact that I was very harsh, I was not a cruel man. I knew that they needed the jobs. The only reason for my harshness was that that was the only tool that I had to keep discipline. I remember very distinctly, one time that I was close to the front of the line, and there were three black men coming up to pick up lunch, they were getting up close to the lunch area. (coughs) I went to talk to them, and I asked them, “Are you guys that hungry that you are willing to eat one of these lunches?” They looked at me and did not respond, and I asked them again, “Are you guys after a free lunch?” Then finally, one of them looked at the other one, and he said, “¿Qué dice?” Then I asked them, “Are you braceros, then? You don’t speak English, no?” They told me in Spanish, “No, we don’t speak English. We’re braceros,” and they were black men, black men with all the features. So, needless to say, I was very curious, and I asked them where they were from. They told me that they were from ___(?) which is a port in the Gulf of Mexico, the name escapes me, it’ll come back to me, which is where the Portuguese would drop off a lot of black slaves, and also some of the Spaniards. Way back then, in the mid-1800s, some of the black slaves remained in that area, and some of them intermarried with the indigenous people, and they became Mexican citizens, and on that occasion those three black men became braceros. (interviewer laughs) I was in charge of the importation of braceros for three years, and then I got a letter from the Army telling me that I had six months to enroll in a university or I would lose my GI bill of rights. All this time, for two and a half years, almost three years, I had plans to go to college, I wanted to go to college, get a degree, and get a super job, and I had kept postponing it. I ended up getting married. I was married, and I had two kids when I received the letter from the VA. Immediately I called UTEP, it was Texas Western College at the time, I asked them when I could enroll, and they told me, “You can enroll in February, which is about three months away,” and I said, “I’ll be there.” I asked (coughs) my immediate supervisor if I could transfer to the night crew, because I wanted to go to college during the day, and he wouldn’t allow me. He said, “No, I need you. I need you over there. You’re doing a super job, and I need you over there.” Finally, after proddin’ him about two weeks, and he would not relent, I spoke to his supervisor, and I informed him, who was the assistant center manager, who was a college graduate. My supervisor was not a college graduate; he was Mexican American. Then I spoke to the assistant center manager, and I told him exactly what I wanted to do, that I wanted to transfer to the night crew, because I wanted to go to college and get a degree. He had a degree, and he could understand. He said, “Carlos, don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to your supervisor. Just tell me when it is, when you want to start.” And that’s how I was transferred to the night crew, which means that I worked from 3:30 in the afternoon to midnight. There was another guard that would relieve me at midnight, who worked from midnight to six in the morning. My job then was to feed them, keep order in the chow line, and make sure that each one of them were fed properly. Sometimes the contractor would fudge on the lunches. It got to the point where we were weighing every single plate to make sure that they got the ounces that the government was paying for. RC: And these people that made the food for ‘em, did they set up kitchens at Rio Vista? CC: They had a humongous kitchen there at the center. The mess hall had a large kitchen, you can imagine, it was large enough to prepare food for fifteen, sixteen hundred braceros. RC: And you mentioned Amen Wardy. CC: Amen Wardy was the private contractor who contracted with the Department of Labor to feed the braceros. RC: And he did that the whole three years? CC: I think he did that for about eight or ten years. RC: Is that right? CC: He did that for the seven years that I was there. (coughs) So, when I was transferred to the night crew, I would make sure that they would be fed. After they were fed, I would issue blankets, and I would make sure that they were in bed by nine o’clock, lights were out by nine o’clock. I would have to patrol the area, make sure that nobody was fighting. On occasion, I’d see some fights, and I’d manage to diffuse them just by sheer intimidation. They knew that I had the authority to call the police officers, and once the police officers were there, they knew that they were going back to Mexico, and maybe even to jail locally. They didn’t know what would happen to them. RC: And these were just fistfights? CC: Yes. RC: Were there ever knives, knife— CC: No, never did I see anybody pull a knife, I not saying that they didn’t carry one, but never did I see anyone pull a knife on another bracero. There was a lot of pushing, a lot of shoving, once and a while fist fights. I could normally tell from my office, because I had a clear view of the center, because the lights would go on, and I would hear a lot of ruckus and yelling and on and on, so I would head in that direction, and I had no weapon. They knew my reputation already, that I was a very harsh man, and I was five eleven, almost six feet tall, and I weighed a hundred and ninety, so I was a good sized man, bigger than most of the braceros, and they knew that I was in good shape. So they not only had to tangle with me, but actually, what they were fearful of was the unknown, “What is going to happen to me if I don’t stop? Are they going to take me to jail here? Are they going to send me back to Mexico?” And it was the fear of the unknown, a tool that I utilized very well. After they were in bed, I would patrol the area, and I had some paperwork to do. I’d have about an hour and a half of free time to study. I was relieved at midnight. I would study from midnight till about three o’clock in the morning there at the bracero reception center, and then I would go home. I would sleep for about three hours, get up, take a shower, eat breakfast, and go to college. And when I had lab in the afternoon, because I was taking accounting and invariably would have labs, so I would get out of class at 2:30 or three o’clock in the afternoon. I’d go to my house, pick up my lunch, to be at the bracero reception center at 3:30, and I did that for four years. Finally, I got my accounting degree. RC: And what year did you get your degree? CC: In 1962 is when I graduated. RC: Okay. Were you in uniform? CC: Well, yes and no. I was in uniform, we were not required to wear uniforms, but those of us that had been in the military would wear our military uniform, which means khaki. We would wear our combat boots, we would wear our khaki pants, we would wear our khaki shirts, but no insignias and no stripes, but by looking at us, anybody could tell that there was a military uniform. And one of the young men that assisted me had been in the Marines, so he would like to wear his Marine uniform with, as I said, no insignias, no stripes, no rank, nothing. We were required to take all that off. RC: Oh. What did the braceros bring with them? CC: They would bring practically nothing. They carried what I would call a gym bag, which means, in my gym bag, to this day, I carry shorts, bathing suits, a solar belt, sweat pants, a sweatshirt, a change of underwear, change of socks, and soap in this. I don’t think they carried soap, but maybe they did, but they carried probably a change of clothing, and maybe a change of underwear, and a change of socks, and a jacket in case it was needed, and that was it. It was a very small bag. They were told in Chihuahua that they had to travel light. RC: Did they search those bags? CC: None of us ever searched them. Nowadays, I can imagine that would be terrible, but way back then, nobody ever searched them. Mexican immigration didn’t search them, American immigration didn’t search them, I didn’t search them, nobody at the bracero reception center searched them. We had had no experience of any need to search them, so until we discerned that there was an absolute need to do something, we would refrain from it. During the seven years that I was there, I don’t recall that any braceros were searched, because we never saw the need for it. RC: When you were working there, how long had the Rio Vista been open? CC: I really don’t know, but I received the impression that it started sometime in 1949 or 1950, way back then. It’s my understanding that the bracero reception center was at the Coliseum, the El Paso Coliseum, which still exists, and as two or three years later, it was transferred to the Rio Vista location. I think it had been there for about three or four years, in 1955, when I started working there. And needless to say, there was a lot of turnover, because the jobs didn’t pay very well. As I said before, that I started as GS3, and then when I transferred to the night crew, I was demoted to a GS2, but I made up for that with a humongous amount that I got from the VA for my going to college, which was one hundred and twenty dollars a month. RC: (laughs) Well, it all adds up, doesn’t it? What did the braceros do when you were on the night shift, after dinner? CC: They would play cards, they had a lot of conversations, they would get together in groups, planning strategies, you know, what’s available? “You guys have been here before, tell us,” you know, “what is it we need to do? What is it we need to learn from you guys to go and do what we want to do?” So the experienced bracero was invaluable to the inexperienced bracero. And it was at night that they would exchange information and educate each other. RC: Um-hm. You remember any music? CC: Oh, yes. Some of them carried a little radio. I had a radio, and once in a while I’d play music for them over the PA system, Mexican music, which I still love, and of course they loved. Now I did that till about nine o’clock, 9:30 max, because most of them were tired, and they wanted to get some rest. That is not to say that they could not sleep with nice music in the air. RC: After they completed their work contract, and they came back through, tell me about when they would come back. What kind of processing did they have to go through to go back home? CC: It was very minor. They would go through contracting, and the contract would be terminated, nullified, or whatever, I don’t recall the terminology. And as far as the feeding was concerned, it was the same. As far as the housing was concerned, it was the same. And the en masse interviews by the Mexican Consul was the same, because the Mexican Consul would speak to them before they left, keep track of all the injustices that you received, the exploitation, because we need to know, and the only way that we’re gonna correct that is by getting information from your people. And they were debriefed, as we would say in the Army, when they were returning. They would bring, by the thousands, old Singer sewing machines. They would have problems carrying them, and problems loading them onto the buses that would bring them to the center, and the buses that would take them from the center to the bridge to be processed through American immigration again at the bridge, which is very minor. The American immigration knew that just by looking at them, they knew that they were braceros. Mexican immigration knew that they were braceros, and of course they would try to shake them down for money. I guess so, a lot of them were, “What it is that you bring? Well, you can’t bring that. If you do, you need to give me some pesos,” and this and that and the other.” They had to face that from the time they left their homes in Mexico, and in the United States, they were victims, they, they were, there’s no other way to put it. They were victims even in their own country. The Mexican government was callous, didn’t care very much about them. They were the poor, still the poor. In this country, again they were the poorest of the poor. The only people that could related to them were people like me, and I didn’t have time to relate to them. The gringo farmers, and some of them were Mexican Americans, most of the them were gringo farmers, could relate to them only to the extent that they needed them, and they would try to accommodate them to extent that they would do the job, because they needed them. That is not to say that they wouldn’t fudge here and there the things that they would do for them. RC: What is your sense of what percentage of braceros actually returned to Mexico? CC: Wow, uh, that’s very, very difficult to say. When I was working there, my guess is that only 1 or 2 percent remained behind, and a lot of them remained behind, because their contracts were extended, which was legal. The farmer, or the rancher, or the contractor would contact the bracero reception center and provide the information that was needed to the Department of Labor, detailing who needed whom for what, for what extended period of time. Some braceros had their contracts extended time and time and time again, for years, and the farmers would allow them, in between contracts, to go back home and visit family. And also it was rumored, and I don’t know this first hand, that some of the braceros would leave the farms when the contract was up, and they’d go to another farmer and work illegally as undocumented Mexican. What percentage did that, I don’t have the foggiest. RC: When they would go home, and then they’d want to work as a bracero again, did they have to go through the entire process with you? CC: The entire process. RC: And then to Rio Vista? CC: The whole process had to be repeated every single time, every single time. Now, I must mention that there were several, there were three bracero reception centers that I know of in the country. One of them was in Eagle Pass, one of them was in El Paso, and the other one was in El Centro, California, and from those three bracero reception centers, the braceros were sent all over the nation. Some would even go to Colorado and Nebraska and Wyoming and do ranch work, Colorado to do beets and Arkansas and Louisiana. Well, I don’t know that any state was exempt. If they could show need for the bracero, the bracero was sent there. RC: Do you recall a favorite location for the braceros? CC: Well, sure. The braceros that were from Juárez would prefer to stay in the El Paso area, because on weekends they could go visit family, and particularly the experienced ones. RC: So all they’d need to cross, to see the family and come back, would be the ID card that was issued? CC: Right, at the bracero reception center. So it was not a major problem. And then some of them that were expertly in picking cotton or picking cantaloupe would want to go to Pecos, because you earn a lot more money over there. So they would sacrifice seeing relatives, weekly or monthly, so as to receive higher wages and make more money. RC: Did you ever witness any results of accidents on the job or did you ever hear [of any]? CC: Yes, we would hear of them, and on occasion we would hear some braceros returning home on crutches or with canes. I never saw anybody return home or return to the bracero center by ambulance, obviously because then that was not our job. If somebody was seriously hurt at the farms, then medical personnel would take over. They had precedence, and they were treated at hospitals until they were recuperated. And then from there, they were either sent home or they were sent to the bracero reception center to be processed back home. If the accident was severe, their contracts were cancelled there at the hospital, and they were sent back home. RC: Did they receive any inoculations at Rio Vista? CC: You know, I don’t remember that they received any, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they did [or] if they did not. I’m hoping that you get to speak to (coughs) some personnel. I have a friend, Lopez, who I’m gonna contact, if you haven’t contacted him, and he worked for U.S. Public Health, and he can give you all the details. RC: All right. What is your personal opinion of the Bracero Program? CC: I think it was needed. (clears throat) Based on my observations now in society, and I’m a writer now, so I’m very observative, I’m very conscious of people all around me. I write about philosophy, psychology, sociology. I don’t think that they’re in the dire need now that they were back then. Way back then they were needed, because they were not sufficient or at least it was proven to the satisfaction of the government they were not sufficient, the laborers in the United States to do the job. Some of them had been drafted for the Second World War, a lot of them had been drafted for the Korean War, as I was drafted for the Korean War. Right now, getting back to the future, there’s no draft. There are a lot of people, a lot of men on welfare. There are a lot of women that could do work, that would do the work in lieu of the bracero. I’m not going to be so presumptuous to say that there’re some areas within the United States that have need for them. Now in the El Paso area, I have not discerned a need. To begin with, way back then, they, the braceros, were chopping cotton, picking cotton. Way back then, a farmer would require, depending on the size of his farm, anywhere between twenty-five to a hundred and fifty, two hundred braceros to pick the cotton. Limón farms, which had about fifteen hundred acres, which I measured later on in life as an employee of the Agriculture Extension Service and Conservation Service, had about fourteen, fifteen acres in cultivation in alfalfa and cotton, milo. They would utilize two or three hundred braceros to pick that cotton. Right now, they use four or five cotton-picking machines. So, as far as picking cotton, the braceros, there’s no need for ‘em, picking onions, there’s no need for ‘em, it’s all done by machinery, bailing hay, there’s no need for them. I used to help my father in the bailing of hay when I was nine years old. I was the block man, block boy. Imagine this, there was a tractor driver, two pitchfork men, one on each side of the bailer, the two men sittin’ on the bailer, one was the wire passer, the other one was a wire tire, and me, the block boy. So there was one, two, three, four, five, six persons. Now, one person, the tractor driver, does all the work. So, the modern inventions have eliminated millions and millions of menial jobs, of labor jobs. Even pickin’ chile there’s machines. I don’t know that there’s not a machine to pick anything anymore. RC: So you don’t think the program should be revived? CC: I am not going to be so presumptive as to say no. I will say this, I don’t see any need for them locally. RC: Okay. Well, I think that will put an end to this interview now, and I’ll thank you formally on the tape, and I’ll say this is the end. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Digital, WAV, MP3 Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:00:59 File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Corella_ELP013 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Carlos Corella Subject The topic of the resource Department of Labor Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Carlos Corella was born on October 2, 1933, in Clint, Texas, where he grew up; he graduated from high school and was drafted into the Army; he served from 1953 to 1955; after being discharged, he went to work for the United States Department of Labor, at Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas. Summary of Interview: Mr. Corella briefly recalls his time in the Army and the various places he traveled; upon being discharged in 1955, he went to work for the United States Department of Labor, at Rio Vista, a processing center for braceros in Socorro, Texas; while there, he was put in charge of escorting the braceros through immigration on both sides of the border; he remembers a particular form for the braceros called a 414, which they needed to have when going through immigration; it included their name, address, height, weight, and a brief physical description; the U.S. Department of Labor, U.S. Immigration, and U.S. Public Health were the three governmental agencies present at the reception center; he describes their first order of business, which was to disinfect or delouse the braceros, and he goes on to explain what each agency was responsible for; later, he became part of the on-site crew at the reception center; he worked for a total of three years at Rio Vista; to the best of his knowledge, the Bracero Program began sometime in 1949 or 1950 and one of the original reception centers was at the El Paso County Coliseum; it was not until two or three years later that the reception/processing center was moved to Rio Vista. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Craver, Rebecca Corella, Carlos Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-02-05 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Carlos Corella creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Corella, Carlos Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/torres_briones_aus004_4678d28f26.mp3 d327e817ab22b268c38addb5455fb0b6 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. subject (Spanish) Bracero Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Dominguez, Violeta Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Torres Briones, Juan Location The location of the interview. Austin, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Nombre del entrevistado: Juan Torres Briones Fecha de la entrevista: 26 de mayo de 2003 Nombre del entrevistador: Violeta Domínguez El día de hoy es 26 de mayo de 2003. JT: ¿Es 26? VD: Sí, 26 ya, hoy es Memorial Day. JT: ¿Sí? Nombre, que yo no me, no me acuerdo. Ahí [es]tá, a ver… VD: Lunes 26 de mayo en una entrevista con Juan Torres Briones. ¿Ya vio? JT: Sí, es 26. VD: Veintiséis, este, señor, su nombre completo es Juan… JT: Juan Torres Briones. VD: Briones. ¿Dónde nació usted, señor Juan? JT: En, en Los Hernández. VD: Que está… JT: En, en Municipio de Dolores Hidalgo. VD: En Dolores Hidalgo. Y, ¿en qué año nació usted? JT: En 1941, en 1941, sería que el 23 de enero. VD: De 1941. JT: De 1941. VD: Don Juan, ¿a qué se dedicaban sus papás?, ¿qué hacían allá? JT: No, pos mi apá era campesino, pero este, en el tiempo que andaba uno en el trabajo de la siembras, pos nada más estaba uno en las siembras, oye. Y este, y él para mantenerse uno, andaba acarreando leña del cerro, la acarreaban y la llevaban al pueblo en los burritos. VD: Para venderla en el pueblo. JT: Sí. Y eso, eso era mucho tiempo hasta que entraron los camiones. Ya después los camiones nos quitaron trabajo a los, ya nos descontaban la leña por allá los, la gente y los camiones la bajaban y ya se acabó el trabajo de andarla bajando con los animalitos. VD: ¿Ellos eran de ahí, sus papás, de Los Hernández? JT: Sí, ey, mi papá era de ahí de Los Hernández, mi mamá era de otro lado. Pero de todos modos del Estado de Guanajuato. Era para aquel lado de San Felipe, San Felipe, Guanajuato. Y ya después pos nosotros estábamos chicos, empezamos ahí a crecer y ya se empezó a regar la… Andar, poder salir a trabajar. Anduve por ahí por, yo anduve trabajando en la capital y por ahí por donde podía. VD: En la capital del estado. JT: En México. VD: O de la capital del país, ¿en el Distrito Federal? JT: Sí, ahí anduve también. Ahí estuve, estuve en un… También estuve de acólito en una iglesia de allá. VD: ¿En dónde?, ¿en el Distrito Federal? JT: Sí, en la colonia Narvarte. VD: ¿Se acuerda cómo se llama la iglesia? JT: Nuestra Señora de la Piedad. VD: Y, ¿con quién vivía cuando estaba por allá en el D.F. [Distrito Federal]? JT: Ahí cuando estuve ahí en esa, cuando estuve ahí en esa iglesia, ahí vivía en un cuartito, en una pieza de la misma iglesia. Iba, yo iba a comer a la casa del señor cura, pero no me quedaba en la casa, yo me quedaba acá en la iglesia. Y luego después me regresé para atrás por mi mamá, nunca habíamos salido lejos, ¿vedá? Mi mamá estaba mala y la curaban y no se aliviaba. Y entonces ya me vine yo. Mi papá me fue a ver, él como quiera me fue a ver, pero mi mamá no y siguió mala y entonces. Ahí estaba un Padre en la iglesia que era mi tío y luego me dijo: “No”, me dice, “Juan”, me dice, “ya vete, vete para ver si hay algo”. Decía: “Ya tus papás tienen ahora mucho maíz y pa que mires a tu mamá, pos tá mala”. Y no, pos me regresé, me regresé para acá y luego luego se compuso mi mamá. Sin, sin llevarla a curar. Y entonces ahí anduve y después me volví a regresar de vuelta para México y querían que, como tenían que trabajara de vuelta allí, pero yo no quise. “No”, dije. Pos se me hace feo que yo trabaje nomás una temporadita y me vaya y les deje su trabajo ahí, ¿vedá? Y me entraron, anduve por allá de jardinero y lavando los carros de los patrones ahí. VD: ¿En dónde? JT: En ese, ése fue en la colonia Inn, a un lado de… VD: ¿En el sur? JT: Sí, está cerca del… VD: ¿Del monumento a Obregón? JT: Ey, sí. VD: En la Guadalupe Inn. JT: En la Guadalupe Inn. Y luego después de ahí, de ahí me vine y fue cuando me fui de bracero en el [19]62 y luego… Y ya después en el [19]63 de vuelta me volví a ir. Y luego el [19]64, y ya después se acabó, le digo, pos es, ya que ya no podíamos ir. Dije: “Ora sí la amolamos”. Sí, ya, fue cuando me dediqué a trabajar por acá en el pueblo y después dimos en venirnos para acá. Y andamos por acá ahí todo el tiempo, le digo, yo todo el tiempo anduve por acá, todo el tiempo. Nada más que era al último después, ¿qué sería? En el [19]88 puede que haya sido, fue cuando empezaron que iban a arreglar y pos uno pos tenía la duda y como quiera ahí anduvimos y pos me dejé y me tardó como que… VD: Y desde entonces se hizo residente. JT: Sí, desde entonces, ey. VD: Déjeme que regrese un poquito, señor Juan. Antes de que usted se fuera del rancho, ¿usted fue a la escuela allá en Dolores Hidalgo, en Los Hernández? JT: En Los Hernández, ahí estuve nomás, nomás un año, un año. Yo cuando entré a la escuela no sabía ni, no conocía ni una letra, ya estaba grande, pero no, no había escuelas todavía en ese tiempo por allá y apenas empezaron, empezó a dar clases ahí una viejita que se quedaba dormida cuando uno estaba entrando a la clase. Y no, recordaba y nos hacía que de vuelta le volviéramos a dar… (risas) Y nomás ese año, ese año estuve y… VD: ¿Qué edad tenía usted ese año? JT: Como no… VD: Ahí más o menos. JT: No, no, no me acuerdo yo, porque… VD: Pero decía usted que ya estaba grande, o sea como más de… JT: Como ahí, como unos, como unos trece años a lo mejor. VD: Y antes no, no había habido escuelas ahí. JT: No, no había habido, no había habido escuelas. Y ya después de ahí para acá, no pos… Después nomás estuvo esa viejita y después empezaron a agarrar muy buenos maestros ahí. Como [es]taba en la orilla del, de la carretera, ¿vedá?, había muy buenos maestros todo el tiempo, ey. Y pero después, después ahí iba nomás con los amigos a veces a… Sí, de todos modos a aprender algo, pero en ratitos, pero yo ya no estaba en la escuela, ey. VD: ¿Ya no podía ir a la escuela? JT: No, no, pos yo ya andaba trabajo, trabajando. VD: Tenía trabajo. JT: Trabajando, sí. VD: Y, ¿dónde fue que empezó a trabajar?, ¿cuál fue su primer trabajo por ahí o usted desde más chiquito le ayudaba a su papá en el campo? JT: Sí, yo desde chico yo empecé a, empecé a arrear la yunta como de doce años, como de doce, como de doce o trece años. Como trece años yo creo, este, empecé a agarrar yunta y ya pa andar cultivando las labores yo. Y luego ya después que iba a trabajar con los tíos, fui a trabajar con mi tío, era un hermano de mi mamá. En tiempo de siembra fui a ayudarle con la yunta. VD: ¿Qué sembraban allá, don Juan? JT: Maíz nada más, maíz y frijolito. Y así hasta que ya empecé a, yo con… En el [19]57 la carretera esa de Dolores a, de Dolores a Guanajuato esa que está ahorita, ésa la andaban, la andaban empezando. Y luego yo me fui a trabajar a la carretera, como los últimos del [19]57 y no me querían ocupar porque taba, yo ya estaba grande de edad entonces, ya tendría yo creo, unos, algunos, yo creo yo andaba unos diecisiete años yo creo. Pero estaba muy arruinado porque a mí todo el tiempo me gustaba andar trabajando para ayudar a mi casa, a mi papá. Entonces cuando me fui para allá para, en el [19]58, fue cuando me fui pa allá para la capital y… VD: ¿Conocía a alguien allá, don Juan? JT: Pos nomás mi tío, el padre. VD: Él estaba viviendo allá. JT: Ahí taba en la, en, él estaba en la iglesia esa. Él vivía ahí cerquita, pero él iba a dar el servicio ahí en, ahí en la iglesia ahí celebraba. VD: Y, ¿él le dijo que se fuera para allá o usted? JT: No, nomás, nomás lo amolado de uno. Y entonces después este, en el [19]58 ya cuando regresé yo de allá, ya cuando regresé de allá no, entonces sí me ocupaban a mí donde quiera, porque ya entonces ya iba, me estiré cuando fui para allá nomás duré, serían algunos seis o siete meses allá, pero me estiré, ey. Y entonces sí ya, entonces sí ya trabajaba yo acá en, donde quiera que iba yo no me hacían gestos, ey. VD: Y, ¿en la iglesia nada más estaba usted ayudando al padre como acólito o trabajaba en algo más? JT: No, nada más ahí, nada más. O sea yo trabaja ahí en la mañana ayudar como acólito y después a limpiar la iglesia, barrer y todo, ey. Ahí, ahí era todo el día de estar yo ahí en la iglesia. VD: Y, ¿después de la iglesia se fue? Bueno, ya que regresó a la ciudad. JT: Me, me regresé para el rancho. Me regresé para acá para el rancho de, de Los Hernández y a la ciudad, a la ciudad íbamos nomás a trabajar, ¿vedá? Ahí nomás a trabajar y nos regresábamos. VD: ¿Como en qué trabajaba en ese entonces, se acuerda cuando estaba en la ciudad? JT: Andaba de ayudante de albañiles. VD: En la construcción. JT: En la construcción, sí. VD: ¿Se acuerda de alguna obra grande en la que estuviera o todos eran cosas más chicas? JT: No, pos pura, puras obras chicas. La obra más grande que fue, que en… Se me hace que fue cuando adoquinaron todo el pueblo. Porque el pueblo Dolores era, estaba compuesto con puro adoquín, ¿vedá? Y entonces, entonces yo pos todavía no, no tenía yo mucha práctica en el trabajo, yo nomás les hacía la revoltura para las piedras, toda esas cosas. Porque eso se me hace que fue cuando, creo habrá sido como el [19]60 a la mejor. VD: ¿Cuando estaba haciendo su servicio? JT: Sí. VD: ¿Dónde le tocó hacer su servicio? JT: Ahí en Dolores Hidalgo. VD: ¿Ahí en Dolores? JT: Ey, sí. Ya ahí sí, ya después de allá para acá. Después cuando se acabó todo eso, después ya nos fuimos a trabajar con los albañiles. Pero ya para la capital ya, entonces para la capital regresé a trabajar con los albañiles también en el… como en el [19]58, cuando fue las olimpiadas, no sé qué año era. VD: ¿En el [19]68? JT: Se me hace que sí, andábamos en la esa, una Aurrerá que estaba ahí por la… No me acuerdo cómo se llamaba la calzada esa, ¿dónde? VD: ¿Por el centro o por dónde estaría? JT: A poco estaba por la Calzada de Tlalpa. Ey, se me hace que fue allá por la Calzada de Tlalpa, a la mejor. Y ahí en esa un Aurrerá grandota. Había veces que trabajábamos hasta, hasta la trabajábamos en el día y trabajábamos en la noche. VD: ¿En la construcción? JT: Ey. Ahí trabajaban unos primos y ellos eran albañiles y ahí andábamos con ellos. VD: Oiga y, ¿cómo le pareció llegar a la Ciudad de México después de crecer en el rancho? JT: Este, y ahora después ya, a la Ciudad de México ya no, no he vuelto. VD: Ya no, pero aquella primera vez que fue, ¿cómo le pareció cuando llegó la primera vez? JT: No, pos a mí me gustó. VD: ¿Sí le gustó? JT: Sí, a mí me gustó. Sí, nomás que sí, pa también para andar ahí en los trabajos también era mucho, era mucho correr. Había veces, hubo veces que desde, de Contreras allá pal lado de San Ángel. VD: Ahí arriba. JT: De allá fui a trabajar hasta acá por el lado de los Indios Verdes. VD: Atravesaba toda la ciudad. JT: Atravesaba toda la ciudad. Me venía de, salía por ahí a las cinco de la mañana y, pa entrar a las siete. Y luego ya salíamos en la tarde, sería como a las seis yo creo, ¿vedá? Y hasta que llegaba acá hasta al, había veces que había juegos allá en el, de futbol en la universidad que le dicen la universi[dad], Ciudad Universitaria. Y nombre, ahí vienen los camiones al pasito, al pasito de tanto tráfico que se juntaba. Y pues llegaba ya bien noche acá al, como a las nueve, yo creo llegaba a la casa. VD: Tres horas de camino. JT: Sí, se echaba uno su buen rato. Ya no, pues ya después, ahora ya después que se acabó la bracereada, pos empecé a venir para acá realmente. Ya por acá nos la hemos pasado. VD: ¿Ya no regresó a la Ciudad de México? JT: No. VD: Entonces usted se regresó a Dolores Hidalgo y de ahí fue donde la primera vez que se contrató. JT: Sí, en Dolores Hidalgo. VD: Y, ¿cómo supo usted, don Juan, que estaban contratando braceros? JT: No, pues este, es que entre la, entre la palabra a veces sí es cierto que estaban apuntando pa ir pal otro lado y pos estábamos acabando la muro. VD: ¿Cómo fue que se animó usted para anotarse? JT: No, pues uno se, para todo se anima: “Vamos a”… Yo luego luego fui y pos sí, luego luego me apuntaron. Me acuerdo, eso fue en el [19]59. VD: ¿Tenía usted algún pariente que se hubiera venido para acá antes, o algún amigo, como bracero? JT: Mi hermano por acá andaba, ése que, él ya murió. Sí, por acá andaba él, se cuando, por Arkansas y luego Michigan, por allá. VD: Y, ¿le había platicado cómo era el trabajo de bracero? JT: No, no, todavía no, hasta… él llegó después de regreso pa atrás por ahí de, allá de noviembre yo creo, ey. Pero nomás que yo pa ese tiempo, había otros braceros y uno miraba que llegaba uno. VD: Y, ¿cómo los veía? JT: Pues llegan, pos siempre llegaban bien vestiditos. Todavía cuando yo anduve de bracero, los pantalones Levi’s esos valían, valían $3 dólares. Valían $3 dólares, ahorita donde andan ya. Pero también en ese tiempo todo era, todo era más barato. Pero no, pos nosotros ahí todo el tiempo anduve contratado, trabajábamos una hora, nos daban un dólar por una hora, ey. VD: Y los veía que llegaban así y, ¿alguien le había platicado cómo era el trabajo de bracero o cómo se imaginaba usted que era Estados Unidos, que iba a ser su trabajo por acá? JT: Nombre, ese sí, no, yo no me imaginaba, no. Pero de todos modos no, no, pues yo creo uno andaba acá pues… y luego yo estaba nuevo, no. Anduvimos en el tomate, pues es trabajo de andar ahí bien empinado ahí juntándolo, tomate y la fresa, desahije del betabel, desahije del betabel trae a uno puros azadoncitos así y andaba uno empinado y con una mano quitando las matas y con otro haciéndole así todo el día, todo el día. Diez horas eran las que nos echaban así, diez horas. Pero sí, sí era duro porque era puro trabajo de andar doblados. VD: Y se acuerda ahí donde se contrató, ¿dónde fue que firmó su contrato, señor Juan? JT: ¿La primera vez? VD: Sí. JT: Aquí en, aquí en Hidalgo, Texas. VD: En Hidalgo. ¿Ahí fue donde le dieron su mica? JT: Ahí fue donde me dieron mi mica. VD: Y, ¿ahí le tocó la revisión médica? JT: Sí, sí, para pasar, primero a uno le hacían análisis de todo. Ya después que ya me dieron la mica, ya después cuando fui a California, yo ya traía la misma mica. VD: Y, ¿con esa podía pasar? JT: No, pero pues primero le hacían los exámenes y todo, pero ya con esa mica, esa mica no se la recogían a uno. VD: Era más fácil para poder recontratarse. JT: Ey. VD: Y, ¿dónde le tocó esa vez que lo contrataron ahí en Hidalgo?, ¿le tocó este lado de Texas? JT: Por ahí en, un lado, un lado de Raymondville, un, no me, delante de Harlingen, por ahí. VD: ¿Qué le tocó, el algodón? JT: El algodón, el algodón, sí. VD: Y, ¿ya lo había hecho usted antes? JT: No, no, pues ni, a lo mejor ni lo conocía, sí. VD: ¿Se le hizo difícil? JT: Pos todos los trabajos eran difíciles, nomás pos le agarraba uno la onda. Sí, pos andar arrancando esto de las matas y unos costales como de aquí a aquella esquina que se metía uno aquí en medio, andar uno agachándose y meterlo a la bolsa y muchas veces no pesaba nada el algodón, fíjese. VD: Y eso, cuando usted estaba viviendo aquí en Texas, ¿vivían en barracas o dónde? JT: En barracas, unos calorones que ni se dormía uno del calor. Y lo mismo para hacer de comer, también venía uno en las barracas, cortas, sentadas todas las estufas ahí también. Y también hacía de comer uno ahí. VD: ¿Ustedes hacían? JT: Sí. VD: Y, ¿usted ya sabía cocinar? JT: Ahí se enseña uno. (risas) Sí, ahí se enseña uno y ya después cuando, allá en California, no, pos allá nos hacían la comida. Ellos nos hacían la comida allá. Nomás nos arrimaban las, a hacer, a formarse uno en fila hasta que le iba tocando. El que se levantaba temprano, ya pa cuando abrían los cocineros, ya había gente ahí formada, esos eran los que les iba tocándoles primero. Ya cuando se iba uno trabajar, ya tenían ganas de ir de vuelta a comer, pues les hacía ahí entrarle. VD: Y, ¿le gustaba la comida?, ¿se acuerda? JT: No, yo, yo todo, todas las comidas me han gustado a mí. Nombre, allá cuando fui pa la capital, unas comidas diferentes que me daban allá. No, todo recién me caía bien al estomago, todo. Cuando yo llegué aquí también, igualmente este, nada más que aquí como, cuando [es]tuve en Manteca, California, ahí fue en un campo también y ahí pos taba la comida, ahí la gente a cada rato andaba mala del estómago porque no lavaban yo creo los trastes bien y todo el jabón, ¿verdad? Ahí seguido se iba uno a los baños y ni se querían parar ya cuando taban ahí sentados. Y después el siguiente año fue cuando [es]tuve en Salinas, en Salinas. Y ahí no, ahí ya taba mejor, ahí en ese campo ya no se enferma uno del estómago casi. Y después, después en, eso jue en el [19]63 y en el [19]64 estuve en las islas ahí a un lado de Stockton, California. Ahí tábamos en un campo chico. No, pos ahí estaba la comida algo bien. Pero luego se acabó ahí el trabajo ese y agarramos contrato y fue cuando fui pa allá a Tracy. Allá había unos dos que no me podía, no me podía acostumbrar porque pos siempre, no es igual pa hacer comida, a comer ahí nosotros. Pues acá éramos como unos treinta o cuarenta, ahí éramos como quinientos. Me decía: “Es que pos ya las comidas ya no, no es igual”. Y duré unos días pa acostumbrarme, ya después se impone uno bien, ey. VD: Y, ¿no se quejaba la gente, señor Juan, de la comida, con los mayordomos o con alguien ahí, con los cocineros? JT: Pos no, cuando si acaso se quejaban se quejaban, por acá [d]onde no, no los oían. VD: Pero con ellos no, no decían. JT: No, se me hace, se me hace que no. VD: ¿Usted cree que no se podía, que se hubiesen enojado los mayordomos? JT: No, o sea ahí no era, ahí no era los mayordomos eran los más, los cocineros o sea que a los mayordomos pos no, ellos a veces a veces comían ahí también. VD: Con, con ustedes. JT: Ey. VD: O que los dueños se hubieran enojado si alguien se hubiera quejado. JT: Pos a veces sí, a lo mejor sí, a lo mejor sí podían decir algo, ey. VD: Y cuando le tocó por acá por California, le tocaron varias piscas, ¿verdad? De fresa me decía, de jitomate. JT: Sí, en primero anduve acá en California, primero anduve en, en el tomate y poquita fresa y coliflor. Y después el siguiente año nomás anduve en la, en la pura fresa. En el [19]64 anduve en el espárrago, luego en el desahije del betabel y en el pepino y luego después en, en el tomate de vuelta, de vuelta. VD: Y, ¿qué le pareció más pesado de todos esos cultivos, las piscas o algo que tenía que hacer? JT: Todos los trabajos eran duros, pero el este el, lo que pasaba era que cuando anda uno piscando tomate, uno solo se castigaba. Y cuando andaba como en los desahijes, en toda esa cosa, andaban arriando a uno. Lo andaban arriando a uno porque como era por horas y entre, entre el grupo hay algunos que quieren quedar bien con el mayordomo, con lo que sea y van jalando la cadena y todos tienen que ir atrás. Dice: “Órale, no te vayas quedando”. Lo arriaban, lo arriaban a uno, sí. Y de eso y pos sí, pero eso es, eso era poquillo duro porque ahí en ese, yo me acuerdo que andaban unos, pos casi lo más de los mayordomos eran por ahí de Michoacán y andaba uno que le decían Matabraceros y el otro era primo. Ese Matabraceros se agarraba con los muchachos, se agarraba un surco y también ahí andaba jalándolos y pos ahí van los otros a no dejarse. Pero pues fresquecitos y ya después todo el día tenían que andar jalando igual, ¿vedá? Y este, y ése, a esa cuadrilla de ese Matabraceros, no les renovaban pos porque yo creo porque miraban que ya los dejaban acabados, ¿vedá? Sí, a todos los demás los renovaban. Yo todas las veces que anduve, yo todas las veces anduve pa allá pa que, cuando quise renovar, renové. Se acabó el contrato y renovaba otro allá mismo luego en la misma Asociación, ey así. VD: ¿Le daban a usted a escoger, si quería, le daban la opción? JT: No, nomás se acababa el contrato y yo iba a La Asociación y me renovaban ya a donde le tocara a uno, donde le tocara a uno, a lo que le tocara allá, sí. VD: Muy bien. Y, ¿alguna vez usted tuvo problemas con uno de los mayordomos? JT: No, no, nunca tuve problemas con un mayordomo yo. VD: ¿Cómo los trataban, don Juan? ¿Todos los trataban como ese Matabraceros? JT: No, un poco menos cacique, pues uno mismo, ¿vedá? Que miraba pues que, trataba de no, de no quedarse atrás de los demás. Es decir, más o menos ahí, ahí, más o menos en medio del grupo, sí. VD: Y en los lugares donde estuvo, ¿alguna vez conoció a los patrones, señor Juan?, ¿a los dueños de la tierra? JT: Bueno, a los dueños de la tierra no, no los conocí, nomás a los que conocí fueron a los que contrataban la gente. Y en los campos ahí en, ahí en Manteca, California, era el campo de Jesús Vielma. Y después allá en Salinas, California era el Campo Jiménez. Así se apellidaba yo creo el dueño del Campo Jiménez. Taba junto a ese Campo Jiménez ese otro, me parece que el otro era González. Estaban dos campos pegaditos ahí, nomás dividía una barda de madera, ey. Y después, en el [19]64, en las islas… Ahí sí no me acuerdo del campito cómo se llamaba ahí. Ahí me acuerdo de las islas de Stockton y después cuando anduve allá de, en Tracy, allá sí, el campo le decían el Campo Ortega, ey. Ahí estaba al lado de Tracy. VD: Y de, de esos lugares que, en los que usted le tocó, señor Juan, por ejemplo, en los lugares donde trabajó en California y donde estuvo en Texas, ¿las condiciones de trabajo eran similares o era más pesado en un lugar que en otro? JT: No, ya se me hace que, ya se me hace que onde quiera taba igual, nada más que sí, donde quiera, en ese tiempo los trabajos eran duros donde quiera. De los braceros era duro el trabajo donde quiera. Porque sí, simple si los azadones de de los desahijes estaban así grandecitos. Tenían como la boca así el azadón. VD: Un ganchito. JT: Así entraba aquí el azadón y aquí quedaban las matitas y tenía que quedar de una matita de dos las, con una mano las iba quitando y con otra mano le iba dando y todo el día iba uno ahí con esos azadoncitos todo el día, ey. Y al, el algodón y también era así, pero ahí él lo que se quería matar, se mataba y el que no, ahí se iba se la llevaba ahí al paso, ey. Y allá no, pues allá todo era por horas. Lo que no era por hora, era la pisca del tomate, ese no era por horas. Pero lo demás, desahijes, todo eso era por horas. Y donde era por horas, pos lo andaban a uno arreando y onde era por contratos, pues uno solo se arreaba, ey. VD: Y, ¿cuántas horas trabajaba allá en California cuando era por horas? JT: Pos ocho, diez, casi a lo más diez. VD: ¿Seis días a la semana? JT: Sí. VD: ¿Descansaba los domingos? JT: Los domingo sí descansábamos. VD: ¿Qué hacía sus domingos en sus días, en sus días libre, don Juan? JT: Pos nos íbamos al pueblo a misa cuando podíamos, todo eso. VD: ¿Había misa en español o eran en inglés? JT: Pues se me hace que a lo mejor sí era, había una que otra. Pos iba uno poco siempre por lo mismo que no sabía uno, no sabía uno por allá en… donde andar por ahí en los lugares donde había. Pero sí, uno como (ininteligible) a veces a comprar algo por allá o a ver, a ver qué había por allá. Un rato los domingos. VD: ¿Cómo se distraían ustedes los braceros mientras estaban por allá? JT: Pues había veces que, había veces que nomás salía uno, se estaba descansando en la casa digo, o a veces iba también a (ininteligible) uno al cine unas cuantas horas y ya se regresaba uno. VD: Y, ¿qué veía en el cine? JT: Me acuerdo de que el, bueno, no me acuerdo de muchas, pero me acuerdo que una vez que fui ahí en el cine en González, era cuando estaba saliendo la película de Pedro Infante, donde Luis Aguilar le decía a Pedro Infante que qué te ha dado esa mujer que te tiene tan engreído, ey. VD: ¿Ésa la vio por allá? JT: Sí. VD: Y, ¿a las cantinas o a los salones de bailes acostumbraban a ir? JT: Pues muchos iban, yo nunca fui. Nunca me gustaba a mí andar ni aquí tampoco, no, no me gusta andar por allá. Ya aquí todo esto (ininteligible) y los domingos para ver los juegos de futbol, toda esa cosa. VD: Y, ¿tampoco a los bailes iba cuando había ahí? JT: Ah, por ahí en California no llegué a ir ni una vez, mejor ahí (ininteligible) después que anduve así, anduve por Colorado, así era cuando iban, algunos que yo tenía ganas de ir a ver, que entonces llegué a ir. Como cuando andaba en California, esos que iban, una vez Los Alegres de Terán, acá por el lado de Colorado y andaban ahí Los Gavilanes y toda esa cosa. Es que cuando yo tenía ganas de ver a algún grupo iba a verlos, pero menos no, no me gusta andar por allá. Entonces íbamos a la cantina los domingos en el día, pero íbamos porque ahí daban de comer, hacían comida para ir a comer como si fuera uno a la fonda. VD: Y, ¿ahí les hacían comida mexicana, señor Juan? JT: Sí, sí, pos puras, todas las que (ininteligible) llegaban puras de por acá también. Eran, serían trabajadoras o de modo que sí, pero era pura gente de por allá nomás, ey. VD: Y, ¿se acuerda la gente que atendía ahí, eran, eran mexicanos? JT: Eran mexicanos también. Nomás que tenían puro este, ya pa esos tiempos estaban arreglados, eran puros mexicanos. VD: Y, ¿cómo los trataban, señor? ¿Cómo recibían a los braceros en las cantinas y en los lugares así públicos? JT: Bueno, esa vez yo creo que los trataban como se portaran, si se… como, pues es decir, uno a como le digo, uno nada más a comer, pues lo tratan uno bien y ya uno, ya este, compraba lo que compraba, ya nada más se salía, ey. VD: ¿A usted le tocó ver alguna vez que tuviera problemas con la gente de ahí? JT: ¿En las cantinas? De las cantinas no, no. Yo no, casi no, donde llegué a ver, donde vi que llegó a haber problemas fue en los campos. VD: ¿Por qué, don Juan? JT: No, se enojaban los, se enojaban los muchachos unos de un estado y otros de otro por… VD: Ah, ¿sí? JT: Se ponían a jugar, a veces se ponían a jugar a la baraja o… Y otra vez, otras veces se enojaron en la fila de la formación donde están formados para la comida y así. VD: Y, ¿había pleitos fuertes o era nada más…? JT: En el, el de la comida no fue, nomás fue ese, ese casi puede decir que nomás fue entre unos dos. Donde fue fuerte fue en, ahí en un campo también que, que estaban jugando ahí y luego se disgustaron, entonces sí, entonces sí fue fuerte ahí, porque se enojó una parrala que era Guadalajara y otros que eran de Nayarit. Ahí sí, trían azadones en la mano, no sé, yo creo no se pegaron, pero traían azadones y cadenas ahí, ey, fue la única vez. VD: Y, ¿les llamaron la atención o no pasó nada? JT: No, pues ya después llegaron, llegó el policía. Ya cuando llegó el policía, no, ya taba el policía creo como la ventana pa abajo y llegó ahí y no, pos todos seriecitos, todos. Los que hicieron el pleito sabe dónde andarían o si ya se habían escondido, ey. Llegó el policía les dijo que ya ni la amolaban, que no se miraban como amigos, compañeros de trabajos, ¿vedá? Todos callados. No, y los más bravos todos estaban todavía escondidos, ahí yo creo que en los establos, sí, sí, ey. Esa vez como taba una cama como aquí y otra cama aquí, pero ya eran las dos camas empalmadas. Esa vez del borlote yo estaba arriba y nomás taba, nomás los miraba yo, dije: “De aquí no me bajo”, (risas) ey. VD: ¿Y el policía era de allá, digo, de aquí? JT: Sí, era un güero. VD: ¿Hablaban español? JT: Sí, yo creo sí, sí. VD: Y en esos años usted, ¿aprendió algo de inglés, señor Juan? JT: No, no, yo no aprendí. En esos años yo no aprendí nada. Aquí me ha quedado, ha ido como un, como unas cinco veces a la escuela y no, no se me ha querido pegar. Pero yo ya fui de grande, yo de, yo era, después del [19]88 pa acá, fue cuando me calé de llevarte y no, no puedo. Todavía el año pasado, todavía el año pasado estuve en la escuela, ey. VD: ¿Estaba yendo a tomar clases aquí? JT: Sí, pero no, (inteligible) los que no saben nada, ya pa cuando se termina la clase esa, ya muchos ya saben algo y yo me quedo igual, ey. VD: Y, ¿usted recuerda, señor Juan, si entre los braceros había alguna, había alguna queja frecuente? Que se dijera entre los compañeros algo que no les gustara. JT: Pos sí, algunos se oía que algo no les gustaba, pero qué carambas hacían. Tenían que aguantarse, el que no, el que no se aguantaban en el contrato ahí se iban pa otro lado a trabajar, pero después de ahí, ahí quedaban fichados para el siguiente año que regresaban de vuelta ya estaban fichados ahí, al llegar al, al, a donde estaban las contrataciones. Ahí al llegar ya estaban fichados y ahí los sacaban y van pa atrás, ya no los admitían. VD: Ya no los daban. JT: Ya no los admitían. Así es que pos la gente pos tenía que aguantarse, ey. VD: ¿Usted cree que alguna vez quisieran quejarse y que mejor decidieran que mejor no? JT: Mejor no ir, ¿o qué? VD: Sí, pues que dijeran: “No, pues mejor no decimos nada”. JT: Ah, no, sí, pues muchos todo el tiempo donde quiera mucha gente, mucha gente mejor se detiene por no meterse en problemas nunca. VD: Donde a veces había gente que se quejaba por la comida, ¿verdad? Por los salarios, por los mayordomos. JT: Sí, digo por los mayordomos, los mayordomos sí, porque unos eran muy carambas, casi los más. Había un mayordomo que jalaba bien con la parranda, que se la llevaba más o menos bien. Algunos hablaban recio al trabajador aquél y pos si el trabajador no iba desempeñando lo que iban a haciendo o alguna cosa, lo descansaban pa que, pa que se educara yo creo, iban y lo sentaban… Tenía broncas: “Vete al camión”, y ya. VD: Y no ganaba. JT: Pues no, ¿por qué carambas iba a ganar?, ey. VD: Y, ¿de dónde era la mayoría de los mexicanos, digo, de los mayordomos? JT: En ese tiempo que yo no había, por allá casi nomás eran de por ahí de Michoacán, porque anduve con uno que era por ahí de Monterrey en, cuando anduvimos en la fresa, ése era de por allá de Monterrey, en Salinas. Allá los demás cuando era, cuando era acá en los demás, todo eso casi nomás eran por allá de Michoacán. Pero esque nos estuvieron bordando también ahí en las, en las islas de Stockton, también eran de allá de Michoacán las mujeres. VD: ¿Eran las que cocinaban? JT: Ey. VD: Y los lugares donde vivían, las barracas donde vivían, ¿cómo eran, señor Juan? JT: Eran unos lugares grandes donde habían camas, camas por lado y lado y en medio un pasillo, ey. VD: Y, ¿eran lugares limpios? JT: Pos habían alguna gente que dejaban ahí que, para que limpiaran el piso, ey. VD: ¿Y al médico usted nunca tuvo que ir cuando estaba como bracero, señor Juan, que se enfermara y le tocara ir? JT: Una vez fui con, que me agarró irritación, irritación con la goma. Yo creo sería de, sería del pepino a lo mejor. Me agarró irritación, dijo, me dieron unas pastillas y ya se me quitó la irritación. VD: ¿Cómo, le salieron unas ronchas? JT: No, me agarró una que nomás, en nomás le hacía uno así. No descansaba, pero como irritación así, ey. Y ésa fue la única vez que fui yo. VD: Y, ¿el doctor ahí en el campo le dio? JT: No. VD: O, ¿lo tuvieron que llevar a otro doctor al pueblo? JT: Fuimos al pueblo. VD: ¿Lo llevó su mayordomo o usted se fue solo? JT: No, nos llevaba, nos llevaba alguien, era la mejor a los encargados del campo, alguna cosa y así nos llevaban. VD: Y, ¿ya con esas pastillas se le quitó? JT: Sí, sí, luego luego se me quitó eso. VD: Y alguna vez le tocó estando contratado, ¿le tocó el 16 de Septiembre, el 15 de septiembre celebrar? JT: ¿Allá? O sea, aquí en… VD: Sí, donde estaba por acá de bracero. JT: No, ni una vez. VD: ¿No le tocó? JT: No, sí me tocó todo el tiempo por acá andábamos, pero no. Pasaba el 16 de Septiembre como… VD: No pasaba nada. JT: Como si nada. VD: ¿Nunca hicieron ninguna celebración ni nada? JT: No. Hasta ahora sí ya lo celebra (ininteligible) para ese entonces 16 de Septiembre aquí. VD: Y, ¿en algún momento, señor, le pareció su trabajo como pesado o que extrañara a su familia y le dieran ganas de abandonar su contrato? JT: No, no, de extrañar la familia sí, pero de abandonar, de abandonar el contrato no, ni una vez. Ahí todo el tiempo me, los contratos que llegué a agarrar los terminaba. VD: O sea que se vino soltero. JT: Sí. VD: Y, ¿le mandaba dinero para allá a sus papás? JT: Sí. VD: O, ¿se lo quedaba usted por ahí? JT: No, todo se los mandaba a mis papás. De cuando anduve de bracero yo no alcancé todavía a tener nada. VD: Y, ¿ellos lograron hacer algo o era para…? JT: Pos a vivir un poco mejor nada más, porque nosotros éramos once, once de familia. VD: ¿Usted era de los más grandes? JT: No, era el que más grande es el que murió. Era el que murió, así es que si ya después era yo. Así es que me, ya vez tú para acá, para poderse uno sostener. VD: ¿Cuándo murió su hermano, antes de que usted se viniera? JT: Ya mi hermano ya tiene como, como unos tres años que murió. VD: Ah, apenas, apenas. JT: Él estaba creo que muy malo de una hernia, no sé qué y de la próstata y luego le hicieron esas operaciones juntas y pos ahí se desangró. Salió bien de la operación, de la operación y enseguida se empezó a desangrar y ya murió. VD: Así que después de él, usted seguía de los hermanos. JT: No, ahí después de él seguía otro hermano, también murió y me parece que alguna hermana también y también murió. Y hasta después ya fui yo. Y mi hermano era más grande que yo, sería algunos, algunos cinco años, yo creo. VD: Así que con ese dinero lo usaron para la comida. O sea, no pudieron construir algo o comprar algo. JT: No, no construimos nada, nomás tener algún animalito o dos más, pero así, ey. VD: Y, ¿para usted se compraba algo por acá?, ¿se dejaba su dinero para comprar cosas, señor Juan? JT: No, nunca dejé nada. Nunca dejé nada, todo, todo fue para ayudar a, ayudar en la casa a mi papá. VD: Y mientras estaba por acá, ¿alguna vez le tocó algún problema de discriminación cuando andaba usted en los pueblos o que entraba en las tiendas o cuando tenía que tratar con la gente de por acá? JT: No, pos no tiene uno problema porque si entra a un lugar donde no, nomás mira ahí la ropa, ya tienen los precios ahí, uno va y agarra el pantalón Levi’s y ya uno conoce, sabe cuánto es ahí y ya se agarran su dinero y ya listo. No le hace que no, que no sepa uno inglés, pero ahí las máquinas marcan lo que es. Ya nomás les paga. Ya ves, pero nunca había problema alguno. VD: ¿Ni con la gente en los pueblos? JT: No, mayormente que (ininteligible) yo andaba poco en los pueblos, hasta ahora que caí aquí. Aquí estoy del, del [19]83, desde entonces no he salido aquí de este pueblo, del [19]83. VD: O sea que usted terminando sus contratos en el [19]64, ¿se regresó para Dolores Hidalgo? JT: Sí, cada año se regresaba uno para allá. VD: Y, ¿qué hacía mientras estaba por allá, señor Juan?, ¿volvía a trabajar al campo? JT: Sí, a trabajar al campo, no en la obra, pero en la, de todos modos nunca estaba uno deoquis. VD: Y terminó, terminó allá el contrato el [19]64 y se fue para Dolores. Cuando terminaron las contrataciones se fue… JT: Sí, ey. VD: Y ya antes de venir en ese tiempo, entre que terminó el Programa Bracero y que se vino otra vez, ¿en qué estuvo trabajando por allá? JT: A trabajar en la obra, en… Y una vez estuve, estuve estudiando según yo en la, en una escuela que le decían que una… ¡Ah!, la Agropecuaria. Ahí en la, en la Agropecuaria, ahí estuve estudiando yo carpintería y ahí daban enseñanza de tractores ahí. Nada más que también, cuando empezamos en esa cosa de los tractores, taba un ingeniero que nos enseñaba a desarmarlos y luego nos ponía dizque a armarlos. Pero entró otro que con las palancas, ¿verdad? Y ese otro no nos enseñaba, nada más a andar en el tractor, a cultivar nada más la labor, pero para desarmar los tractores de todo, esa cosa, ese ya no nos enseñó nada. Así es que en eso no, no aprendí nada más, nomás a andar en el tractor y pa andar surcando toda esa cosa. Pues ya uno está impuesto que anda uno surcando con la yunta, con la mano y (ininteligible) con el tractor, ey. Ahí en, en ese del tractor había muchos muchachos porque pues yo tenía muy poco estudio, había muchos muchachos que, este, habían terminado la secundaria y toda esa cosa. Pos en la carpintería me ganaban a hacer cuentas, toda esa cosa, pero pa hacer el trabajo manuales no, no me hacían nada. Allá cuando andábamos en los tractores también, cuando entró ese hombre ahí, ese otro que no nos enseñaba mecánica mucho. Cuando entró ése, una vez hizo una hilera de carrizos y las puso derechitas y luego dice: “Ora, a ver quién se hecha esa raya”. No, y andaba uno de San Miguel, creo que agarró el tractor y fue y vino y luego dice: “Ya a este lo voy a poner”… Serían creo que cien puntos, era lo más. “A este le voy a poner cien puntos”. Y luego le dije yo: “No”, le dije, “pues eso qué gracia”. Me dice: “Qué gracia, nomás tú no lo haces”. Y nombre, después de ahí pa acá todos los días al empezar, después me dejaron a mí a echar la primera raya. Todo el tiempo ya después echaba yo la primera raya. Ellos me ganaban a la, a lo demás cosas, pero en eso no me hacía nada entre los trabajos manuales. VD: En la práctica ahí. JT: No, ande. Ya todo el tiempo yo… Empezábamos una tierra diario, todos los días puros trabajos de esos de escuelas íbamos a hacer puros trabajos en la escuela. Y empezábamos una tierra cada día y yo tenía ahí que echar la primera raya. Ya después se seguía de uno, de uno y otro del uno hasta que todos salían, ey. VD: Y, ¿cuánto tiempo estuvo en la escuela, en esa escuela agropecuaria? JT: Ay, yo no me acuerdo de a cómo eran los, serían de un año, digo, pues en veces que a lo mejor sí había podido ser como de un año a lo mejor. Si es que no, es que yo estuve, [es]tuve un año. VD: En el curso de un año. JT: Ey. VD: Lo que aprendió ahí, ¿sí le sirvió para ponerlo en la práctica luego? JT: Pos en eso de la carpintería, lo que pasó que allá en el rancho cuando hice una, hice una puerta de, para mi pieza ahí, una. Y para la cocina, hice un carro de mulas para servicio ahí de andar tirando abono, acarrear madera y toda esa cosa, eso luego lo hice. Eso fue todo lo que alcancé a sacar de eso porque ya después pos me, empezamos a venir pa acá y se acabó toda esa cosa. VD: Y, ¿se empezó a venir para acá de nuevo solo? JT: Sí, empecé a venir solo y ya después, ya después en el, en el [19]68 por ahí sí fue cuando me casé y de todos modos me, me… VD: Seguía viniendo. JT: Sí. (risas) VD: Y, ¿cómo se pasaba, don Juan?, ¿se pasaba usted solo o con coyote? JT: No, nos pasábamos nomás entre compañeros, nomás, nomás nos veníamos entre compañeros. VD: ¿Se acuerda por dónde pasaba?, ¿se venía acá de este lado de Texas o se iba para California? JT: No, aquí nomás para este lado. Yo llegué a pasar por ahí por lado de Acuña y por aquí por Laredo y por allá por el Altar, allá pal lado de Sonora. Todos esos lugares me llegué a pasar. VD: ¿Alguna vez lo llegó a agarrar La Migra? JT: En el camino, en el camino nomás una vez me agarraron. Esa vez sí veníamos con coyote allá por el lado de Arizona. Esa vez sí nos agarraron en el camino, fue la única vez, de ahí en más, ahí nomás todo el tiempo de que nos veníamos, porque ya después nos empezamos a pasar con coyote, ¿vedá? Pero no, nunca, nunca nos llegaron a agarrar en el camino. No, si luego otra vez, otra vez aquí por Laredo, esta vez también nos paró La Migración. Era (ininteligible) y a los quince días ya estábamos aquí de vuelta, ey. VD: Y, ¿en qué estaba trabajando cuando se venía esa vez? Esas veces, pues que estuvo viniendo. JT: Yo cuando venía, (ininteligible) trabajábamos también en el campo, trabajábamos en el campo, por eso estábamos en los desahijes, en los desahijes. Y una vez trabajé en un molino donde hacían comida pa los animales y así a el, casi nomás al desahijes. Y luego por acá en la limpia del algodón, en las limpias del algodón y en… Ya hasta después que caí aquí en puro, en puro andar en labor, sí. VD: ¿Cómo fue que llegó aquí a Austin? JT: La primera vez que vine aquí andaba un muchacho ya en, y luego ya en, habló para allá que aquí necesitaban unos trabajadores ahí y nos venimos y también nos venimos con coyote. También nos venimos con coyote y sí, sí la hicimos. Y de ahí pa acá nos empezó a andar aquí en el pueblo en la obra. VD: ¿Desde qué año fue eso?, ¿en el [19]83, me dijo? JT: Sí, desde entonces he andado yo aquí en la obra, ey. VD: Y, ¿siempre trabajando en la construcción? JT: Sí. VD: Y, ¿cómo ha visto que ha caminado la industria de la construcción aquí, don José, en lo que desde que usted pues ya lleva veinte años aquí? JT: Pos no, pos en los lugares, hay lugares donde anda uno trabajando donde le arriman todo el material con las máquinas, toda la cosa, ey. Ahí donde anduve trabajando, no ahí uno mismo, los mismos ayudantes son los que le arriman todo, ellos hacen la mezcla en las máquinas y se la arriman a uno todo ahí. Pero sí a veces andan echando en unos pisos ahí como ahí. Pues en por allá, bien altísimos y lo suben con la máquina con tubos, yo creo ahí cae todo el chorrito de cemento, sí, pos… VD: Y, ¿le parece que ahora hay más trabajo que cuando usted llegó o el trabajo es mejor ahora? JT: No, pos trabajo este, aquí en este pueblo siempre casi lo… A veces sí escasea un poco, pero siempre ha habido trabajo. Siempre ha habido hartillo trabajo, hasta este año fue cuando yo a mí me falla un poco, a penas tengo como unas tres semanas que empecé a trabajar en la obra, ey. VD: ¿En dónde está trabajando ahorita? JT: Ahorita en la obra. VD: Pero, ¿en una obra grande por aquí o cómo? JT: Sí, aquí. No, pos retirado del pueblo por ahí, en barrios por allá. VD: Y usted me decía que en el [19]88 fue que arregló. JT: Sí, fue en 1988 cuando empezaron a arreglar, yo creo. Duré en, yo creo que a lo mejor son unos dos años sin ir por allá pa mi casa, pos andaba arreglando papeles, no tenía que salir de ahí y me tuve que aguardar. Y para el siguiente año, no, dije: “Ahora sí, si no llegan mis papeles me voy a ir”. Y fui a La Migración un día antes de irme y ya había llegado el papel. Ese día pasé con permiso. VD: ¿Desde cuándo se vino su esposa para acá? JT: ¿Mi esposa? Ella nunca ha venido. VD: Ah, ¿no?, ¿ella está allá? JT: Sí. Ahí [es]tán mi esposa y mis hijos, aquí no está ninguno. VD: O sea que usted nomás viene, hasta la fecha nomás se viene unas temporadas y luego se regresa. JT: Sí, no, pos no voy pa allá, pos también nomás me voy algún, algún mes. Para el invierno me voy pa allá un mes y ya me regreso. Hasta este año fue cuando duré más tiempo allá, porque estaba poco malo. VD: Y, ¿cómo ve ahora que usted puede ir y venir, dónde le gusta más la vida?, ¿aquí de acá en Estados Unidos o allí en México? JT: A mí siempre me ha gustado allá, siempre me ha gustado allá, nomás que allá no hay la menor posibilidad de eso que, a trabajo le trabaje no, no rinde nada. VD: El dinero. JT: Ey, así de… VD: ¿Hay algo que no le guste de la vida aquí? JT: Bueno, es que, es de que, es otro vivir entre el, entre uno mismo y el otro vivir en… Hay mucha gente que se viene y se olvida de su familia y toda esa cosa y algunos ya tienen aquí su familia y luego se quedan ahí y se descomponen. Los que vienen bien se descomponen, también aquí también se descomponen, viera. Eso es lo que no me ha gustado de aquí. VD: Y cuando dice que se descomponen, ¿en qué está pensando, en que la gente ya no habla con su familia? JT: No, pos se desapartan, se desapartan. Ya vienen en diferentes lugares. Eso es lo, eso es lo que nunca me ha gustado de aquí de Estados Unidos, ¿no? VD: Y ahora, después de pues ya varios años que usted estuvo por acá de bracero, cuando usted se acuerda de aquellos años, ¿cómo se siente de esos años cuando estaba contratado?, ¿qué recuerdos le quedan? JT: No, pos los recuerdos que me quedan nomás que entonces uno está muchacho y puede moverse todavía yo (ininteligible) ya es menos, ya estamos recuerdos, sí. Es cuando uno está nuevo, aguanta el trabajo, cualquier trabajo que sea lo aguanta bien y ahorita ya no puede uno igual. VD: Y qué, cree usted que pues usted que se vino primero con contrato y ya luego se vino sin papeles, ¿cuál era la diferencia?, ¿cómo sentía usted la diferencia entre venirse contratado como bracero y cuando se venía después usted solo? JT: Pues no, la diferencia, la diferencia que se venía de contratado y cuando se venía uno sin contratarse nomás así, la diferencia nomás era que lo agarraba a uno a veces La Migración. Pero de ahí en más en los trabajos eran más, más fáciles. Porque si iba uno a un lugar y aquel trabajo no le gustaba, se iba pa otro lugar. Cuando el, en las contrataciones ahí donde le tocaba ahí tenía que aguantarse, ahí tenía que aguantarse, esa era la diferencia. Deje me voy a echar una visita. VD: Sí, pues digo, si quiere yo, yo ya terminaba con esa pregunta que le hacía y déjeme agradecerle su tiempo y sus recuerdos de toda su historia en el tiempo en el que estuvo por acá que es larga, aunque usted estuvo ya al final del programa, ¿verdad? Pero luego luego de ahí le quedaron varios años de seguir viniendo. JT: Ey, todavía. (risas) VD: Y todavía, y todavía, muchas gracias, señor. Fin de la entrevista Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:06:03 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Torres_Briones_AUS004 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Juan Torres Briones Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Juan Torres was born on January 23, 1941, in Dolores Hidalgo, Guanajuato, México; his father was a farmer, and he was the fourth eldest in a family of eleven; when he was thirteen years old, he went to school for only a year; his first job was helping his father work on the farm; he later worked as a gardener and in construction; in 1959, he decided to enroll in the bracero program; as a bracero, he worked in California and Texas, picking asparagus, beets, cotton, cucumbers, tomatoes, and strawberries; he continued working with the program until 1964. Summary of Interview: Mr. Torres recalls his family and childhood; he also discusses his adolescence, and the various types of work he performed; in 1959, he decided to enlist in the bracero program; he signed his first work contract in Hidalgo, Texas, which took him to work in Raymondville, Texas; while there he picked cotton for the first time in his life; as a bracero, he worked in California and Texas, picking asparagus, beets, cotton, cucumbers, tomatoes, and strawberries; he goes on to describe the various things he would do in his free time, such as go to church, the movies, or into town to shop; in spite of his excursions, he would often send money home to his family; although he was generally in good health, he recalls one instance in which he had infection he believes he caught from picking cucumbers; he was taken to a doctor and prescribed medication that alleviated the infection; when the program ended in 1964, he returned to his hometown of Dolores Hidalgo, Guanajuato, México; he continued working in the fields there, but he also went to school and learned how to fix tractors; sometime later, he came into the United States illegally to work; although he was deported, he returned and continued to work as farm laborer. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Domínguez, Violeta Torres Briones, Juan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-05-26 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Juan Torres Briones creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Domínguez, Violeta contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/herrera_elp028_3867515447.mp3 2436953722c3f7131623cbc888842982 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: David F. Herrera nació en 1925 y muy pronto su familia se mudó a Mesquite, Nuevo México; completó dos años en la Universidad del Estado de Nuevo México, enfocándose en ingeniería civil; pero enseguida siguió los pasos de su padre y se dedicó a la agricultura; comenzó a contratar braceros para que lo ayudaran con la finca a mediados de 1950. Resumen de la Entrevista: El Sr. Herrera recuerda que en 1946, luego de asistir a la Universidad del Estado de Nuevo México durante dos años, comenzó a dedicarse a la agricultura en Mesquite, Nuevo México, contando con tan solo doce acres de tierra; gradualmente fue adquiriendo más tierras y a mediados de la década de 1950 empezó a contratar braceros; con la ayuda de sus amigos recogía a los braceros en Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento en Socorro, Texas; los braceros lo ayudaban principalmente con la cosecha de algodón a partir de fines de agosto y continuando a lo largo del mes de febrero; contrataba unos veinte braceros para la cosecha; los trabajadores se alojaban en viviendas de adobe renovadas, con electricidad y agua corriente; a menudo caminaban hasta las tiendas cercanas para comprar lo que necesitaban o esperaban hasta el fin de semana para ir a Anthony o a Las Cruces, Nuevo México; él entregaba a los braceros las bolsas que necesitaban para cosechar el algodón; a veces compartía a los braceros con un vecino en la medida de los necesario para poder terminar un trabajo; en su opinión, la presión de los sindicatos laborales fue lo que en última instancia causó la desaparición del Programa de Bracero. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Morgan, Beth Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Herrera, David F. Location The location of the interview. Mesquite, New Mexico Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of Interviewee: David Herrera Date of Interview: April 7, 2003 Name of Interviewer: Beth Morgan This is Beth Morgan. It’s April 7, 2003, and I am visiting with David Herrera at his home in Mesquite, New Mexico. This interview is for the Bracero Oral History Project. BM: So, if I could ask you, Mr. Herrera, when and where were you born? DH: I was born in Rosito(??), New Mexico, about four miles from Mesquite, in April 2, 1925. BM: Okay, your full name is what? DH: Full name is David Frank, David F. Herrera; I just use the initials. BM: Where did you grow up and go to school, Mr. Herrera? DH: I grew up in a village in Mesquite, New Mexico. I went to Mesquite Elementary, and then I went to Anthony Union High School. I attended two years at New Mexico State University, which was New Mexico A&M at that time. BM: Did you graduate from NMSU then? DH: No, I just went there two years. BM: And what did you study there? DH: Civil engineering. BM: Were your parents farmers? DH: Yes. BM: That was in the Mesquite area? DH: Yes. BM: Okay, what did they raise? DH: At that time, when I was growing up, the main crop was cotton and alfalfa. Now, farming is very diversified with many other crops. BM: What was your father’s name? DH: Felipe E. Herrera. BM: Felipe with an -F-, right? DH: Yes. BM: Okay, now he farms here in this area also? DH: Yes. My folks moved to this area when I was less than a year old. He bought a farm west of town here, and that’s where the farm was. BM: When did you start farming yourself? DH: Well, actually I started farming in 1946, two years after I got out of high school. I might add that I became a college dropout to become a farmer. BM: And was it something that you did by choice or did you need to help your family? DH: No, farming was always in my blood. I started farming a small patch of land shortly after that. At that time, you could make a real good living on farming, the costs were low, the price of crops were almost the same as they are now. BM: When you began farming, was it your father’s property or did you buy your own place? DH: No, I bought a small acreage, I started with small acreage, and I kept on farming. I would lease some ground, and then I started buying some of my own acreage. BM: Was that also here in this area? DH: In the surrounding area. When I started farming, if a farm came up for sale that was within my area, where I could farm it without having any trouble with farm equipment, any distance, I’d make an effort to buy it. BM: How many acres did you start with, if you don’t mind my asking? (phone rings) Should I stop this? DH: Let me see if my wife— (Interview interrupted) BM: I think we had just gotten to the point where I asked you how many acres you started with. You said you had begun with twelve acres, and before that, you said that whenever there was acreage that was in the area, then you would try to acquire it. When was it that you began using braceros? DH: I don’t remember when that bracero program started, but when it started, I was growing cotton, and there was no mechanical cotton pickers at that time, it was all handpicked cotton, so I started contracting braceros. BM: I believe the program started in 1942, so— DH: It wasn’t that early, I wasn’t farming at that time. How long did it last? BM: Through 1964. DH: Okay, I probably started contracting braceros in the midfifties. BM: All right, that would put us in the middle of the program. How did you find out about the bracero program? DH: It was pretty well advertised, farm bureau put out a lot of information on it. I had a friend who was running the program, Epifanio(??) Apodaca, he was a graduate of New Mexico State, and he was in charge of the program for this area. The processing base at that time was Rio Vista, below El Paso, that’s where we went to arrange to pick up the braceros, that you made the application, and they would notify you that they were ready to be picked up. BM: Now, you say Mr. Apodaca was in charge of the program? DH: Yes. BM: Was he the labor director for the farm bureau? DH: I’m not too sure how he was connected or who was his supervisor, whatever. BM: Is he still in this area? DH: He passed away; unfortunately, he passed away about ten years ago. BM: Did you actually go down to Rio Vista to choose the workers that you wanted? DH: We didn’t get a chance to choose our workers, but the way this was handled, they would assign [them]. If you applied for fifteen braceros, they would pick out fifteen braceros and turn them over to you. This area, all the farmers were trying to get people from the Laguna area in Mexico. They claim that that’s where the good cotton pickers came from, cotton growing area over there. We would go early, and try to mill around with the braceros that were available, and find out a little about themselves. When it came time for us to pick up our braceros, we would tell them to get in a certain line, and maybe we would have a little better chance of getting those braceros. BM: I see. So, that was because they also grew cotton in that area of Mexico? DH: There were those who were familiar with this valley, and they liked this area real well. BM: Where about is Laguna? DH: I never did find out, but they called it La Laguna, the lake area, but I’m not familiar with that part of Mexico. But that’s where those cotton pickers, there were many of them that would pick five hundred pounds a day, three of ‘em could pick a bale easy. BM: Is that a lot? DH: Oh yeah, the average cotton picker would pick around two hundred pounds. BM: I see, well that’s a lot then. What did you have to do to hire braceros? Was there paperwork? DH: Oh, yes, uh-huh, we had to apply, and that’s where Mr. Apodaca came in. He processed all the paperwork that we requested from different farmers for braceros. BM: Did you have to go somewhere to do that or did they come to you? Did he come to you? DH: Mr. Apodaca had an office here in Las Cruces. The processing center was in Rio Vista, in lower El Paso. BM: Where was the office that you had to go to in Las Cruces? Do you remember? DH: I think it was the, if I’m not mistaken, it was the farm bureau office. BM: Okay, that would make sense. I don’t know who the various directors were at that time. I talked to a Bob Porter. Do you know him? DH: Oh, yes. BM: He was the labor director, but only for a couple of years. DH: Bobby Jack Porter? BM: Yeah. DH: He’s from, he used to be a regular from Hatch. I know Bob real well. You know, when we were kids, we used to get in a lot of 4-H clubs. One year, I was awarded an all expense paid trip to Chicago, from this area, and Bobby Porter was awarded one from the Hatch area, we were twelve, thirteen years [old] at that time. (laughs) BM: You were 4-H buddies. DH: Yes, from way back. BM: He did administer that program for a couple of years, but it was probably after— DH: It was later, after Apodoca— BM: Must have been the sixties or so. How many acres did you have at the time that you hired braceros? DH: I had thirty-eight acres at that time. BM: And that was all cotton? DH: All cotton. I didn’t have any equipment to process it, cutting, raking, and baling. BM: Now during the entire time that you used braceros, was that primarily what you grew or did you add other crops later on? DH: While the bracero program was in effect, all my farming was in cotton. Later, I started growing alfalfa, and I had it custom cut and baled. And later on, I could buy my own equipment, and then I had acquired more acres by that time. I did my own cutting and baling. BM: Did you have help with that from braceros also? DH: No. BM: That was after? DH: The only use for braceros was for cotton picking. That was the case with most of the farmers. BM: So, the program was known, you said it was well advertised in this area, and that the braceros were hired for cotton picking, and there was not mechanized cotton picking at that time. DH: Every acre of cotton was handpicked. BM: Did you have to meet any specific government regulations in order to hire braceros? DH: Oh, yes, we had to furnish housing for ‘em with utilities and running water. BM: Was that provided right on your own place? DH: Yes. BM: What was the housing like? DH: Most of them were renovated adobe buildings that were on the farm, and the farmer could afford to build a new home for himself, and these houses were renovated for bracero use. BM: So, there were buildings on the acreage that you bought, already existing? DH: Yes. One of the farms that I bought had a house where the farmer used to live, he sold the farm, and the new owner never moved to the farm, so I bought the farm from him, and it still had the labor house there. BM: Do you know how many years you used braceros, total? DH: I think I used them until the program played out. BM: So, that would have been like— DH: Eight or ten years. BM: Can you estimate how many braceros you employed over the course of the year? DH: My main use was for cotton picking, and I usually contracted anywhere from fifteen to twenty braceros. BM: And that would be at what time of year? DH: Cotton picking usually started when we were handpicking, usually started at the very end of August or early September, and it would run into February of the following year. BM: So, that’s four or five months? DH: Yes, about four or five months. BM: Was that typically the length of the work contract for the bracero? DH: Yes. Normally, I think that there was no, there was a termination date, but if you finished your cotton picking, you were all through, then the braceros were free to go back to Mexico. BM: Did you ever keep them around to do things other than cotton picking? DH: No. BM: Were there different tasks involved in the harvesting of cotton other than just picking it? Did you have any other things braceros do? DH: No, mainly it was cotton picking. I usually hired a person, a local person, to do the weighing, and keep track of the pounds that each bracero picked. BM: How did the braceros get to your place? DH: I had to pick them up at Rio Vista, and bring them to the farm, and get them settled down in their living quarters, and they were there until they left. BM: So, if you have, like, twenty braceros, they certainly wouldn’t all fit in a pickup [truck]. Did you have to hire a bus or something? DH: Oh, yeah, I had some friends that would help me. BM: Did you actually have a bus or did you just bring them? DH: No, no, the braceros that I hired we could usually fit ‘em into three or four vehicles. BM: Would that have been like pickup trucks? DH: Yeah, maybe cars, they would ride in a car, you know, I think we used some pickups, too. Now, the braceros that were contracted to go to Pecos, out of Rio Vista, they hauled them over there in the back of cattle trucks. BM: That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. I hope they at least they closed them down before they put them in there. DH: In fact, all the braceros that I talked to, they were fighting for it, so they wouldn’t be sent to Pecos, (interviewer laughs) because that wasn’t the only problem, the transportation. Pecos, at that time, they still practice a lot of discrimination. BM: You’re talking about Pecos, Texas? DH: Pecos, Texas, yes. BM: I understand Texas was kind of a tough place for a bracero. How did the braceros get along in this area? DH: They adjusted real well. And another thing that happened, a lot of the Anglo farmers, all over, but in my area is where I noticed them, they learned to speak Spanish, some of ‘em became real fluent in Spanish, with the slang and everything. There’s a few of them still around. BM: That was a good thing? DH: Um-hm. BM: I am sure it made it easier for everyone? DH: Well, it was easier for the farmer to learn Spanish than it would be for some of, the bigger farmers had thirty or forty braceros, for all of them to speak English. BM: Mr. Herrera, did you ever actually go to the processing center there in Rio Vista? DH: Yes. BM: What was it like? DH: It was, well, to me it reminded me of a, it must have been a CCC camp. Remember those? BM: Civilian Conservation Corps? DH: Yes, because they had housing there, and they had facilities to feed them a light lunch, and water available, restrooms available. I’m not sure if that’s what it was, but I’ve seen other areas where the CC project built a camping area like that. There was one such project over there in Glenwood, New Mexico, west of Silver City. I don’t know if you’ve ever been over there. BM: Yeah, um-hm. DH: The CC boys built a catwalk over the river there, real picturesque. BM: Yeah, I’m familiar with that place. You think it may have been a CCC camp at one time? DH: I think that’s probably what it was. I’m not sure, but— BM: You were required to provide the braceros with housing and electricity and running water. DH: Utilities. BM: What were the requirements as to their pay? DH: The pay was pretty uniform. At that time, I guess, when I started using braceros, I forget what the rate was, but it was something like eighty or ninety cents per a hundred pounds of cotton or something like that. Labor was cheap at that time, but so was everything else. BM: Did you have to provide the braceros with food also or did they buy their own? DH: No, they bought their own. We were fortunate that my farm was within walking distance to the stores there in Mesquite, and they would go buy their own groceries. On Saturdays, they managed to get into Anthony or Las Cruces to buy groceries at the bigger grocery stores. BM: What did they usually buy? Do you have any idea what they ate? DH: I think their main staple was beans, corn tortillas. Basically, the foods that their culture was accustomed to, and all those ingredients were available here. BM: What about medical care? Did you have to provide medical care for your workers? DH: I don’t remember that I ever had to take anybody to the emergency room or anything like that. They were pretty hardy people, pretty healthy. I don’t recall that I ever had any absences from the braceros to show up for work. I don’t recall that, there may have been some, but I don’t recall. BM: What about injuries? Did any of them chop themselves with a hoe or anything? DH: No, not really. When they’re picking cotton, the only thing they could do was fall off the cotton trailer, but the trailer usually had sideboards on it. BM: Did you ever have any government officials or immigration service, Border Patrol, come around to check on the workers? DH: We had housing inspection to see if we passed the requirements and everything. BM: What was that like? DH: No, usually, when you were hiring braceros, Border Patrol wasn’t involved; they wouldn’t come around and check. BM: What was the housing inspection? Who did the housing inspection? DH: I think that was handled also under the farm bureau, I’m not sure. Basically, they came to check and see how sound the building was, if there wasn’t any hazards that might hurt the braceros or whatever, and make sure the utilities were furnished and all that. BM: Did you ever have any trouble with that? Did they ever write you up for anything? DH: No, I didn’t have to go through anything. I think some of the farmer’s were asked to repair their wiring on the electrical lights, and that’s about all they had. Most of the old homes didn’t have any wall plug-ins to plug in a toaster, or no toaster was available, but basically all they had was lights. BM: But if there was work that needed to be done, did the braceros end up doing it themselves? Were they required to do that themselves? DH: On the house? BM: On the houses. DH: No, I don’t recall that they had to do anything, really. If they had a broken window or something, they would report it to the farmer and he would go and repair it. BM: Okay, so you did that if it was necessary. DH: We had to do the upkeep on the building. BM: You said you think that the braceros primarily purchased beans and corn tortillas and that sort of thing. Do you have any idea what their meals were like? Did they ever invite you over for dinner or anything? DH: No, but I had an experience one time. I was trapping gophers up there on the farm. The irrigation district would pay the farmers fifty cents per tail. If you catch a gopher, you cut the tail off, and take it in, and they’d give you fifty cents. My kids used to do that. One time, I had three gophers that I had trapped, and I had them in the back of my pickup, they were dead, you know, they hadn’t been dead very long, and one of the braceros saw ‘em. He asked me what I was going to do with those animals. I said, “We throw them away, we just cut their tails off.” He said, “Can I have them?” I said, “Sure. Why do you want them?” “We’re gonna eat them.” I said, “You eat the gophers?” “Oh yeah,” he says, “you know,” what he told me made a lot of sense, “you know, people here in the states, they go for chicken, they really like chicken meat, and a chicken will get out in the corral, and eats just about anything. These little animals, they work underground, and all they eat is clean roots from different plants, that’s what they live on, and it’s a very clean animal.” And the fur was real, real soft, you know. He says, “These little animals are cleaner than a rabbit. People eat a lot of rabbit and mostly chicken in this place. You take a chicken out on a farm, they eat anything.” (laughs) BM: Yes, I’ve heard that a lot of Navajo people eat prairie dogs. DH: Is that right? BM: I guess it’s the same thing as gopher. DH: Okay. Well, prairie dogs are more exposed. You’ll never see a gopher along the surface, they’re always underground. They build those mounds, you know, push the dirt up? I showed my boys how to move the dirt out of the way and dig down until you find the hole. There’s a hole going this way and that way. You set a trap at each one and then cover it up. Within six or seven hours, you go back and you’d catch a gopher. BM: Huh, interesting. What about moles, are they the same thing or different? DH: No, I don’t think they have those here. BM: I didn’t know if we did or not. DH: We have a bunch of squirrels and gophers, skunks, but no moles. BM: Do you happen to remember what the minimum hourly wage was? DH: No, I sure don’t. It was probably around thirty or forty cents. BM: It was mostly by the number of pounds of cotton picked that you paid? DH: When you hired them to do work other than cotton picking, then you had to pay them by the hour. BM: I see. If it was cotton picking, then it was by pounds. DH: Right. BM: Who determined the wages? DH: I think the Wage and Hour Division. BM: Of? DH: It’s the Department of Labor. BM: Did they kind of dictate then, to the farmers what had to be the— DH: The Department of Labor still does that. Now they have minimum wage, and they make sure that people out there harvesting onions or whatever, even though they get paid by the pound, they still have to equal minimum wage or better. BM: Did you have to keep books on what you paid each worker? DH: We kept records for ourselves; it wasn’t a government requirement. BM: How did you go about keeping those records? DH: We had a big tablet with all the braceros names listed on there, and the number of pounds each picked was under their name. At the end of the week, we totaled the number of pounds and paid them by the pound. BM: All right. Were you required to withhold any taxes or anything else out of their pay? DH: No, not at that time. BM: So they just got a lump sum? DH: That’s right. BM: The hiring agent would have been your friend, Epifanio(??) Apodaca? DH: Um-hm. BM: And you think he was with the farm bureau? DH: Um-hm. BM: Did the farm bureau, to your knowledge, have any influence over the operation of the bracero program? DH: No, I’m not familiar with that. You know, I think, it might not be a bad idea if you could interview Bob Porter; he can give you a lot of that information. BM: Okay, I did actually; I talked to him already. DH: Oh, you did? ‘Cause he was a Farm Bureau a long time. BM: Yes, he was only labor director for a couple of years. DH: For the Farm Bureau? BM: For the bracero program. DH: Oh, yes, but with the Farm Bureau, he was the executive director there after Johnny Augustine left, I think. BM: Alright, so Mr. Augustine is probably another person I should talk to. DH: Yeah, Johnny Augustine. He’s up in age but still pretty sharp. BM: Does he still live in the Las Cruces area? DH: Yes. Let me get that for you later I can get, I’ll give you the address. BM: Okay, so we talked about what the braceros did for you. Can you tell me what the typical day for them would be like during harvesting cotton season? DH: Basically, they came over to earn money, basically, picking cotton. They counted on five or six days, doing that during the week, they didn’t work on Sundays. Sundays, they had a time to do their laundry and go buy groceries, stuff like that. Most farmers only worked until noon on Saturdays, so that gave them another half a day. BM: What time did their day start in the morning? DH: Cotton picking is, if you didn’t have any dew on the cotton, they could start as early as they wanted to. We didn’t have a set time for them to start, but on a normal day, if there was no dew on the cotton or no moisture on the cotton, by eight o’clock they were out there picking cotton. They were eager to get into the field and get going. BM: What kind of tools did they use for picking cotton? DH: Just their hands. BM: Did they wear gloves or anything? DH: No. I think some of them would tape their fingers around the nails here. The cotton bushes are pretty sharp. Sometimes they’ll get sore right in there, and they would tape their fingers, just the tip of their fingers, just like a Band-Aid. That’s about all they used. BM: What about hats or any particular kind of clothing? Did they wear hats? DH: Most of them would wear hats, some of them just bareheaded, but most of them would wear hats. That was before the fad where caps came into place, now everybody wears caps. BM: Did they wear any particular kind of clothes to protect them from the sun? DH: No, not really. Some of them would wear a heavy shirt over their regular shirt. That’s about it. BM: That would be to protect them from sunburn? DH: Yeah, but you know, one year, I had one bracero that came from Cuauhtémoc. Do you know where Cuauhtémoc is? BM: Down by Mexico City? DH: No, it’s by Chihuahua, Chihuahua is down in the valley, and Cuauhtémoc is up on some plains up there. We had a real cold day one time, the wind was blowing from the east, real cold, man it made your eyes water facing the wind. I went out there around 8:30 AM, and there were a few pickers out there, and I told them, “It’s just too cold to pick cotton today, so let’s just take the day off.” Most of them came from the warmer parts of Mexico, and they were cold. I thought they all had left, you know. At noon, I drove to the farm, and there was one fellow picking cotton over there, in short sleeve shirt and everything, he was whistling and picking away. I stopped and walked into the fields to tell him, “Hey, I told the other people that we were gonna take the day off. It’s too cold to be picking cotton.” He said, “This weather is not cold, it’s just right. I come from a part in Mexico where the water freezes in late September, and it doesn’t thaw out until the spring.” (laughs) He’s from Cuauhtémoc, and it’s up on the plains, from an area that gets real cold up there. He was used to that, and he kept picking cotton, by next morning, he had three sacks full, right away. (laughs) BM: Did they have big bags for picking the cotton? DH: We had to furnish the sacks for them. BM: What were those made out of? DH: Canvas, white canvas. BM: What size? DH: Most of them were anywhere from six to nine feet long. Nine feet is kind of clumsy to be hauling around. Most of ‘em were seven or eight feet, and they were about two feet in diameter. BM: That would hold a lot of cotton, I guess. DH: Oh, yes, a full sack would weigh right around one hundred pounds, a little less, a little more. BM: Did you have a lot of contact with your braceros? DH: Mainly at work, yes. BM: You were their direct supervisor, then? DH: Well, yeah. One of my farms was just a little further down, close to the canal, you know, you cross the canal over there, I guess, so they were pretty close to my home. BM: When you say cross the canal, you mean across— DH: This side of the canal, right down the canal, on this side. BM: You mean east of the canal. We’re talking about the canal that would be where? DH: Well, cross the canal where that white gate is, over there, you know? Which way did you come in? From the east? BM: Yes. DH: Oh, you didn’t quite get to the canal. You see that white gate over there? That’s where the canal is, the irrigation canal. BM: East of Mr. Herrera’s farm in Mesquite, and that would be running what? North and south? DH: The canal runs north and south. BM: Okay, along, what is it? 428? DH: Well, 428 is about four blocks distance away. BM: We were talking about where the ditch was in relation to where your other place was. So, where is your other place from the irrigation ditch? DH: I’ve got some farmland here around my house, then it extends to where the bracero house used to be. The house is not there anymore. My pecan acreage runs to the next concrete ditch that I water. I have thirty acres on the other side of that concrete ditch, and that’s where the house was. And then, I’ve got one hundred and sixty acres about a mile and a half down. BM: That would be about a mile and a half down from 228. DH: Yes, right, from 228. BM: And south on 428? DH: Yeah. BM: Did you know the braceros by name? DH: I knew all of the ones that I hired by name. BM: Does anyone in— DH: I had a neighbor next to me, that he also contracted braceros. Sometimes, his braceros would come and help me. 2ND: Hi, how ‘ya doing? DH: That’s my younger son, Andy. BM: Let me turn this off for a moment. DH: He’s a farmer now. (Interview Interrupted) BM: We were talking about whether or not you knew any of the braceros by name, and then you were talking about one of your neighbors who also used braceros. I don’t know what you were going to tell me about— DH: Well, we traded labor. If I got a little behind on my picking, he’d lend his braceros, and I’d do likewise. We kinda of worked together. BM: Does any particular bracero stand out in your memory? Were any of them especially— DH: No, none of ‘em that I know of came back to this area after they got their residential passport. I’m pretty sure most of them did, they came back later and got their residential visas to reside here. BM: Was there any particular bracero that became an especially valued employee for you? Like, did you try to rehire the same people every year? DH: We couldn’t do that, because the braceros had no choice in saying where they wanted to go when they were brought from Mexico. They could have gone to Deming; they could have gone to the Roswell area, anywhere. Deming, Roswell, Artesia, Carlsbad, they all had braceros. BM: Did you know the foreman for your farm? DH: I was doing the farming myself. BM: You were it? DH: Yeah, I did, like I told you before, I did hire the person to do the weighing of the cotton when we were picking cotton, to keep track of the pound for each employee. BM: Did he have any other responsibilities in relationship to the braceros? DH: No. BM: Do you happen to know what the braceros did on their days off, besides laundry and grocery shopping? DH: No, I’m not sure. They probably brought some cards or dominoes to play. I’m not sure, really. BM: Did you have any problems with braceros getting into trouble and drinking while they were staying with you? DH: No. I never did get any calls to go bail somebody out of jail. BM: Did any of the braceros who worked for you bring their families with them? DH: No, the bracero program was strictly for male employees. BM: Did you give them any special privileges? Paid vacation days or anything like that? DH: No, it was seasonal work, you know so— BM: So, they did not have any holidays off or anything like that? DH: No. Of course, they had time off when we had weather conditions, like rain or something like that. BM: So, you don’t know what they did for fun, per se? DH: No, I really don’t. I knew they enjoyed going to town, they kind of, just looking around, getting to know the country. Most of them, or some of them, were too shy to go out and find out that they couldn’t converse with people, because they didn’t know the language. BM: So, they kind of kept to themselves because of the language? DH: There were a lot of Hispanics in this area that they could converse with. If they went to the store, there were no people who would speak Spanish; they would be kind of shy going in there. BM: That makes perfect sense. When the contract ended with the braceros, did they go straight to Mexico? DH: Yes, as far as I’m aware, they had to be processed back into Mexico. The program, they had to account for the braceros coming in, and they had to account for the braceros leaving the country, too. BM: I see, but if it was not necessarily the end of the contract, and your neighbor needed someone, they could go work for him for a few days? DH: Um-hm. BM: What were your obligations at the end of the work contract? DH: I really didn’t, I had completed my obligations. I furnished what I was supposed to furnish for them, like the house and utilities and all that, that was my main obligation, and, of course, providing them a job, that’s a must, they came over to do some work, that was the purpose of the program. BM: You said you might have up to twenty braceros or so work for you each year. DH: That was the top number, yeah. BM: For how many years would you say you hired braceros? DH: I don’t remember. I started about the midfifties, probably by the end of the fifties, that would be about four or five years. I’m not too sure about the time limit thing. BM: Let’s see, what else? You said you did not have any problems with the braceros. DH: No. BM: No fist fights or anything? DH: Not that I’m aware of. BM: Criminal behavior? DH: Not the ones that I had. Some of the farmers may have different experiences, but I never did have any problems with them. BM: Did they ever complain to you about their living conditions or wages or anything? DH: No. Basically, I think that what we furnished them was a lot better than what they had at home. BM: Did they ever stage any strikes or labor protests in your area? Not necessarily just against you. DH: No, no, not that I’m aware of. BM: Did you ever, in addition to the braceros, hire undocumented workers? DH: There were always a few undocumented workers in the area, there always had been. In 1981, we started a daily operation, and all the employees we would get were undocumented, and that’s basically what we operated the dairy on for a while. BM: Did you ever have any conflict during the bracero program between hiring braceros and hiring undocumented workers? DH: No. At that time, when the bracero program went out of existence, that’s when the illegal immigrants came in here to look for work. BM: So, you never had any undocumented and braceros working at the same time? DH: No. BM: In your opinion, what was the quality of the braceros’ work? DH: Most of ‘em, the ones that I contracted, were real good workers, real dedicated to doing farmwork. They were raised on farms, you know, so they knew farmwork. BM: How would their work compare to that of say, Anglo farmworkers or Mexican American farmworkers who already lived here? DH: I don’t know if we can make a good comparison then, because labor was scarce at that time for farms. And for cotton picking, it required a lot of labor for a short period of time. So, they were not, we didn’t have any locals to fill that void, we had to rely on braceros. BM: Was it that the local people did not want to work seasonally or— DH: A lot of them already had their jobs lined up, some of them in construction, some of them in sales and whatnot. BM: What would you say were the advantages and disadvantages of the bracero program? DH: The program in itself served a purpose, both for the farmer, and to help the people of Mexico, because they came and they earned, I don’t know, I’d venture to say, four times the amount of money they could have made at home. It was a short duration, but we needed the labor to get our crops out. We just didn’t have the labor here to do it. Later on, they started working with mechanical pickers, but there was no comparison between mechanical pickers and handpickers at that time. Now, they have perfected the cotton pickers where they do a real good job. When they started out, it was a big machine that picked the cotton real crashy, and it knocked a lot of cotton to the ground, which is unretrievable, and we lost that cotton. BM: Initially, when mechanization began, and the braceros were preferable to— DH: They terminated the bracero program, I think on account of the labor unions. They always complained the bracero program was taking the jobs that the American people should be doing. That wasn’t really true, because there weren’t enough of them anyway to fill the void in the farms. So, they terminated the bracero program, and that stimulated the work on the mechanical pickers. BM: Do you think the bracero program should be reinstated? DH: At this point, I don’t think so, not for cotton anyway. The cotton, there is no way you could pick it the way the cotton picker does, in volume. BM: So, it has improved to the point where it’s more efficient than hand labor? DH: Oh, yes, it’s very efficient. One cotton picker can pick what sixty or eighty braceros could pick in one day. BM: Wow! DH: Just one cotton picker. So, you get your crops out a lot faster, preventing the exposure to weather elements and everything else on the farm. No, at this point, the bracero program wouldn’t do any good for the cotton crop. BM: What about other crops? DH: I farmed until 1990. I was involved in growing vegetables, I grew onions, lettuce, spinach, which at that time required a lot of hand labor, some of that labor still needs to be done by hand. But now, a labor contractor goes to the border, and picks up the workers from the border, and brings them to the farmer, wherever there is a need for them. They work through labor contractors. That’s the way I worked when I was farming vegetables. I’d do the ground preparation, the planting, and everything, but once the lettuce started growing, that all had to be thinned out by hand labor, there’s no machine that could do that. The lettuce has to be thinned out, so that there is only one plant every eight or ten inches, if there is two plants there, neither of them would make marketable lettuce, because they grow oblong instead of round, but it has to be done by hand. BM: So, we are still using farm laborers from Mexico, but under other circumstances. DH: Another method now, not braceros. There’s quite a few people that have residential status, but they live in Juárez, it’s cheaper for them to live over there, but they still come and work in the states. BM: So, they would be people that have basically green cards? DH: Yes, but they only cross the border. The labor contractor, he owns a bus, he picks them up at the border, brings them to the farmer, and charges the farmer for transporting the labor and keeping records on them, and the farmer pays the labor contractor and he pays the labor. BM: In a way, the program has continued, but it’s in a different form. DH: In a different form, that’s correct. I think in Florida, and other states, they still bring in labor from South America to harvest the apple crop or cherry crop or whatever. BM: From South America? You mean beyond Mexico? DH: From Central America, mainly. BM: Honduras and— DH: That’s right. BM: All right, well—I gather that you don’t think it’s appropriate for the bracero program to be reinstated. DH: I don’t think there’s much of a possibility of it being reinstated, because the labor unions will fight it. They feel that bringing in foreign labor is going to take jobs from the American people. That’s their thinking, so they’ll fight it. Labor unions have a lot of power, you know, so for that reason, I don’t think the bracero program will be reinstated. BM: Is there anything that we haven’t covered about it, that you would like to discuss, about the program? DH: The bracero program would fill a void right now for the chile industry, because they’re working on a mechanical chile picker, but it hasn’t been perfected to be real efficient. If you gave it a little more time, they’ll probably have a chile picker that’ll work as good as a cotton picker does for picking cotton. BM: How long would you expect that window of time to be? DH: That depends on the need for it. Right now, they seem to get by with bringing in labor for chile picking from Juárez. But if that labor gets a little too costly, now it is more costly than what the bracero program used to be, then the work on the mechanical picker will be accelerated to the point where they can get it perfected in a short amount of time. I think the university over here is working on that. BM: Probably. The chile industry is kind of hurting for labor right now. DH: Yeah, right now, that’s the only thing. But with the free trade agreement they worked out. The chile processing plants in this area are bringing chiles grown in Mexico cheaper than they can buy it from the local farmers. So, that’s another point to consider. (laughs) BM: Well, is there anything that you would like to say about your years of working with the bracero program and what it contributed to your farm in particular? DH: All I can say is the bracero program, when it was in operation, it provided a real service for the farmer that was badly needed, and it also provided the people of Mexico a job where they could improve their living in Mexico, too. BM: So, you think it was a good thing for both sides? DH: I think it was good for both countries really. BM: I think we pretty much covered this, so I’m going to stop this, unless you have anything else to add. DH: No, I guess not. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Digital, WAV, MP3 Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:00:00 File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Herrera_ELP028 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource David F. Herrera Subject The topic of the resource Farmer Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: David F. Herrera was born in 1925, and soon after, his family moved to Mesquite, New Mexico; he went through two years of college at New Mexico Statue University, where he focused on civil engineering; shortly thereafter, he followed in his father’s footsteps and began farming; he began hiring braceros to help him on the farm in the mid 1950s. Summary of Interview: Mr. Herrera recalls that in 1946, after attending New Mexico State University for two years, he began farming in Mesquite, New Mexico, with only twelve acres of land; gradually, he acquired more land, and in the mid 1950s he began hiring braceros; with the help of his friends he would pick the braceros up at Rio Vista, a processing center in Socorro, Texas; the braceros primarily helped him with the cotton harvest beginning in late August and continuing through February; he would hire twenty braceros for the harvest; the workers were housed in renovated adobe buildings with electricity and running water; they would often walk to nearby stores to buy necessities or would wait until the weekends to go to Anthony or Las Cruces, New Mexico; he would furnish the braceros with the bags they needed to pick cotton; oftentimes, he and a neighbor would share braceros as necessary for finishing work; in his opinion, it was pressure from the labor unions that ultimately caused the demise of the bracero program. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Morgan, Beth Herrera, David F. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-07 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. David F. Herrera creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Herrera, David F. Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/gonzalez_gallardo_az028_4eb3726928.mp3 d31caa24cff339231bbd3047eae18691 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Kalashnikova, Marina Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Gonzalez Gallardo, Francisco Location The location of the interview. Tucson, Arizona Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:04:22 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Gonzalez_Gallardo_AZ028 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Francisco Gonzalez Gallardo Subject The topic of the resource bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Francisco Gallardo González was born January 1, 1933, in Atil, Sonora, México; he was the first born of his six siblings; his father was a bricklayer, and he also worked his own land, planting corn, cotton and wheat; Francisco was also formally educated through the sixth grade; in 1954, he worked in the United States, and he was ultimately able to acquire a bracero contract through 1956; he labored in the alfalfa fields and orange orchards of California; in 1958, he obtained legal status, and he settled in Tucson, Arizona; two years later, in 1960, he married; he and his wife had six children, five boys and one girl. Summary of Interview: Mr. Gallardo talks about his family and hometown; in 1954, he came to the United States and worked without proper documentation in Holtville, California; his boss took him to El Centro, California to obtain a contract with the bracero program; he explains what he went through, including medical exams and delousing procedures, before returning to work in Holtville; after his contract ended, he returned to México and went through the contracting process in Empalme, Sonora, México, which was much more difficult, due to the requirements and long waiting times; as a bracero, he labored in the alfalfa fields and orange orchards of California; he goes on to detail camp sizes, housing, accommodations, living conditions, provisions, duties, routines, treatment, contract lengths and renewals, payments and remittances; moreover, he mentions the various jobs the men completed, including driving tractors and irrigating crops; they earned between $1.00 and $1.75 an hour, which at the time, was a lot of money; oftentimes, they were bitten by snakes while working and cured themselves; on one occasion Francisco was involved in a fist fight with another bracero; later, in 1958, he obtained legal status, and he settled in Tucson, Arizona; two years later, in 1960, he married; he and his wife went on to have six children, five boys and one girl; overall, he is proud to have been a bracero and has positive memories of the program. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Kalashnikova, Marina Gonzalez Gallardo, Francisco Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2008-01-04 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Francisco Gonzalez Gallardo creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Kalashnikova, Marina Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/loza_chic014_56bdb00905.mp3 33695469895ee5702bb70805044f05d3 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. subject (Spanish) Bracero Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Loza, Mireya Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Loza, Juan Location The location of the interview. Chicago, Illinois Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of interviewee: Juan Loza Date of interview: August 31, 2005 Name of interviewer: Mireya Loza Name of translator: Jaclyn Martínez Hi, I am Mireya Loza. It is August 31st in Chicago and I am interviewing Juan Loza. ML: Where and when were you born? JL: October 11, 1939. ML: Speak to me about your family and the place where you were born. JL: Well, I was born in an hacienda called Maravillas [in] the municipality of Manuel Doblado in Guanajuato. My father is named Cayetano Loza Ornelas and my mother is named Lucina González Zamora. ML: What were your parents’ occupations? JL: My father cultivated the land and raised livestock—pigs, horses—of really everything that is raised on a ranch. ML: Do you come from a large family? JL: Yes. I come from a family of thirteen. One died and twelve were born—excuse me, [twelve currently] live. ML: How many brothers and sisters do you have? JL: We are six brothers and six sisters. ML: Where do your brothers and sisters live now? JL: I have one brother in Chicago. I have another brother in Atlanta, United States, and all of my sisters live in Maravillas—and my other three brothers [do] too. ML: Speak to me about when you went to school. Did you go to school, and where? JL: Well, in my infancy when I went—during the time when I was in school, my schooling was very limited. I went one year to Maravillas and another year with an ex-teacher who had been a teacher in her time, but since she was now a mother of a family, well, she did not continue to teach—but I received an additional year of school with her. ML: Did you learn to read and write? JL: Very little. Very little, and I began to practice more, really, when I needed to communicate with my parents—with my brothers and sisters—because I was no longer with them. ML: Did you work while you were studying—while you were in school? JL: Yes. There was more time working than time studying. ML: How old were you when you began to work? JL: Very little, very little—eight or nine years [old]. My father had a lot of livestock. My father sowed many crops of corn, wheat, and garbanzo, and laborers were very scarce at that time. So, he believed that it was more important to work than go to school. ML: How did you find out about the Bracero Program? JL: Well, after my father had a grand fortune—he was one of the richest [men] in El Bajío of Maravillas, municipality of Manuel Doblado—my father began to gamble [on] horse races week after week and he was [eventually] left with nothing. Economically speaking, nothing was left. Only debts were left. So by that time there were eleven of us in the family and my father had to leave the house during the day because when debtors weren’t after him in the morning, they were after him in the afternoon or midday. So then, since I was the oldest, I was faced with the necessity to work—to ask for loans, to ask people to help me so that my brothers at least had tortillas to eat during the day. So, living in deep poverty, I asked the chairman of Manuel Doblado to give me a number—in other words, a space to come as a bracero to the United States. Although I was very young, necessity motivated me to take the initiative to leave my parents, my mother, my brothers and sisters, and, well, to take my chances. ML: And who was the first person who told you about the program? JL: Well, my godfather who was named Camilo Loza—my father’s cousin—had been a bracero, and since I had had a very beautiful relationship with my godfather since I was a boy—[I was] a young man at that time—he told me: “Maybe one day you can go to the United States, godson. I ask God a lot [for that] because I know that you will be a help—a [source of] support for my comadre [mother of one’s godchild] and for your brothers and sisters.” ML: How old were you? JL: Well, it was 1957 when my godfather began to tell me that, because he saw that there was a strong need and he tried to motivate me [to become a bracero]. And by that time—well I was born in 1939, [so] I was . . . let’s say eleven . . . eighteen years old . . . seventeen [years old]. ML: And did your godfather live on the same ranch [as you]? JL: No. My godfather lived in Manuel Doblado. We lived on the ranch. ML: And how was his experience? Did he talk to you about his experience as a bracero? JL: Well, it’s because the braceros . . . he told me that if one had [a good] body—they would arrange the work according to the physical fitness of your body. If you had [special] abilities, [they would arrange the work] the same way. And if you hadn’t had schooling, and you didn’t have a [good] body, it was logical that you were going to come work, well, [work] hard. ML: Were you married at that time? JL: No. ML: Had you ever thought about the United States prior to that time? JL: No. Prior to that time, no. ML: What were your means? [What were] your expectations of the program? JL: Well, my expectations were only that if I could work in México, I could work in the United States and from there I could give my brothers and my mother a better life. And why not? Well, I was young, my clothes were completely worn, and why shouldn’t I buy myself new clothes? ML: Did your family influence your decision in any way? Your mother, brothers, sisters . . . what did they think? JL: Well, my mother did not [influence my decision]. Well, after the chairman who was my father’s compadre [friend], I got all my advice from my grandfather. When I got the number that [the chairman] gave me to come and try my luck at the contracting center in Monterrey, I talked to my dad and he said: “Well, here are three things. I will not stop you; I will not help you; I will not give you money. If you are in a position to do it, [then] do it.” [I answered]: “That’s good. I want your blessing and I want your [good] wishes.” He says: “That, I will give you.” So, in that time five pesos were worthless, not to mention what was needed to come [to the United States] in that time. Well, 1,000 pesos were needed at minimum for passage [to the United States], and you didn’t know if luck was on your side—whether you would be able to be contracted in the United States or not. So one had to at least have 200 extra pesos in case you weren’t contracted for some reason—so that you could return again to your place of origin. ML: Describe the contracting process. So the chairman helped you get a number, and then what happened? JL: Well, when I no longer had any alternatives and when I no longer had anyone who would help me economically I turned to my grandfather. My grandfather said: “With happiness! 1,000 pesos for me is nothing and I am going to lend them to you without deadline, without interest, and you pay me when you can.” So I had the 1,000 pesos [and] I felt supported. I went back and told the chairman that I was ready. We came to the contracting center in Monterrey, Nuevo León. In that time 1,500 braceros from the municipality of Manuel Doblado, Guanajuato went [to the contracting center]. We left one night at 10 p.m. About twenty full busses came directly to here. They put about ninety people in them even though the capacity was about forty-five or fifty passengers. We [were so full that we] even had to ride on the bus railing, on top. I think that about twenty of us came on top and it was a long—well, a lot of time. It takes about four and a half hours to get from Manuel Doblado to Monterrey, and we arrived in Monterrey in those conditions. In Monterrey all the lists from the different states arrived, and we had to wait there for almost a month to be contracted. So, I didn’t have any experience. I didn’t know. I came [as if I was] blindfolded, blind. How could I have had a better opportunity? The idea came to me that if I got closer or if I stuck with people who had come before—one, two, three or four times—well, then I would be better oriented. In that way I stayed close to those people and I stayed close to a man who had already come seven times. They called him El Güero [The Light-skinned Man]. He was from a ranch in La Calzada. So, he told me, “Come. Come, young man. I am going to take you to a place where it will be very nice for us.” So, like I told you, we waited in Monterrey about a month. ML: And what did you all do during that month? What was your life like during that month? JL: Well, from the first night I arrived in Monterrey, many men left. They went to a hotel; many went to the cabarets. What do I know? . . . to drink beer, to the restaurants, to dance with waitresses or things like that. And since my thoughts and my economic opportunities were very scarce, what I did was that . . . from the second night I got there . . . the first day I slept [in a place] that had cardboard walls and a cardboard roof close to a small restaurant. They sold—there, the lady—[sold] rice with beans and tortillas only. That was all that that lady sold. So she sold me a cardboard box where they [had] packed eggs for one peso [Mexican currency] at that time, and I stayed there the first day, and the second day I asked the woman whether I could help her in some way—that I intended to work because the lists were drawn [only] until noon. The lists were drawn from nine in the morning until twelve in the afternoon. If the list in which you were listed didn’t come, you had to wait until another day to see if list came out—the next day and successively like that, day after day, day after day. So, since I didn’t want to spend the few cents I had (because I couldn’t, but I didn’t owe [anyone]) . . . so I helped the lady clean beans, wash dishes, put aside what she needed for the rice, and things like that in that style—clean a space [for her], take out the trash. And then the lady let me stay there free of charge, but I had to cover myself with cardboard and lay myself down on another piece of cardboard. ML: And when they finally called you, what happened? JL: Well, on the day that our list was passed, they gave us a physical examination there. And they checked our documents to make sure that they agreed with the documents that they had gotten from us the first moment we enlisted in Manuel Doblado. So, after we passed the physical examination we were subjected to a liquid and powder disinfection to disinfect our bodies so that we wouldn’t bring germs to the border of the United States and México. So we stayed another week on the border, which was Piedras Negras, because a lot of men leave from the contracting center in Piedras Negras [it was a heavily populated contracting center]. There, they examined [everything], even to the point of examining what we had eaten the month before! A lot—an exam very meticulous with a lot of mistrust and at times even with cruelty—I can tell you that! ML: Why cruel? JL: Well, because the doctors examined an average of three thousand people a day. Imagine! If a doctor doesn’t have the patience to examine a patient when he has already examined four, five, six, or ten during the day, [imagine] how it is when he has examined thousands! Of course this doctor is already sick of it. He’s already overloaded with the work and [so] he’s going to do it reluctantly, without paying much attention. So when you pass the physical examination—in the hands of the doctor—they do the same process to you that they did in Monterrey—they do it again. They take off all of your clothes, they bathe you with disinfectants—with powders and a series of things that make me sad to even mention. So they requested 500, 400, 200, 80 [men] . . . whatever the ranchers who were going to contract braceros in Piedras Negras requested. So since I already had that comfort, or that support, with that man who had come many times, I would tell myself: well, if it takes a day, if it takes two, or if it takes a month, I have hope that we will go to a place where we will have a good experience. Because in that time, many braceros were really failures after one month, two months, or three months . . . failures because what they paid them . . . what they paid us . . . . what they paid them was a miserable amount. It was about 25 cents an hour to come and uproot [ourselves]—to come cultivate land from the ground up. So those people never paid [the braceros] for what they had collected [during the day]. They were the unsuccessful braceros. So I didn’t want to be one of those unsuccessful braceros. That’s why I looked for support. I looked for a guiding light. So we stayed for almost a week in Piedras Negras until one day at nine at night they announced via the loudspeaker that they needed 200 irrigators. The man told me: “Come with me. Come. Let’s go.” We went at that time and the next day at six in the morning we left to come work in a little town close to Lubbock, Texas. Lubbock, Texas is next to La Mesa, Abilene, Littlefield, and in that county—of course, it was a dry county in that time in which even a drop of alcohol was illegal in public. But it was a very good place because everything that is produced in that county needs irrigation so there is work at good pay. Since I came especially for irrigation, I made 55 cents an hour, but I worked 24 hours, 7 days a week. ML: You didn’t rest on Sunday? JL: No. There wasn’t any rest because when the irrigation season began . . . it had to be between the first day of February and the tenth day. From the first to the tenth of February it started and the cutting [harvesting season] was from the first of August until the tenth day of August. The irrigation season ended because if it was onions, they were harvested, if it was watermelon, it was harvested, and if it was cotton, the soil had to be given time to dry so that the cotton-picking could begin. ML: And what was the daily routine in Lubbock, Texas? JL: Well, my routine was . . . it was that we . . . the ranch was close to the barracks. The barracks were where we slept—where we made ourselves food. It was a place sort of like this room—like thirty by forty, something like that, where we had approximately 150, 180 braceros. So we had to make our food there, wash ourselves, personal cleanliness . . . we had to do it for our check. It was very hard because in that time, well, there was no free time. We had to take our clothes—and we were over there flooded with water—we would wash our clothes ourselves there and in the same place we would hang them out to dry in a small tree or a rock or in a tube, in whatever there was. There one would have to dry [the clothes] week after week and day after day. That’s how it was. And the food that we made was to eat in the moment. We never made food to last us for two meals, no. In that time what helped us was that . . . well they paid us very little per hour . . . but they also didn’t charge us light, we didn’t pay for the gas, we didn’t pay rent and we would eat an average charge of $10 dollars, $12 dollars per week. ML: How long were you in Lubbock? JL: I was in Lubbock, Texas for three years. [19]60 . . . from [19]60 to [19]62 . . . [19]60, [19]61, and [19]62. ML: Did you return to México during that time? JL: Yes. I returned during those three years. I returned to México two times. But the boss would give me a special card which I used like a passport. I never had problems with Immigration—that they would pass me. Yes, yes they would stop me. They would search me, but with that card I was free to roam all over Texas. ML: And why did you go the first time? JL: Well, the first time when I went to México, my mother asked me to. My mother found herself to be a little ill and she demanded that I come. She told me: “If I gave you my consent in one day for you to come to the United States, now in the same manner I tell you that I want to see you. I want you to come whether it be one day, whether it be two days, whether it be a week or whether it be two, whatever you can do, but I want you to come.” And since I very much respect the decisions of a parent . . . well, with the same attention with which she had given me her consent and her blessing to come on one occasion, I returned. I returned for two weeks and I came to work again with the same boss doing the same work. ML: And when you were in the United States in Lubbock, Texas, how would you communicate with your mother and your family? JL: Only through letters because in that time there was no phone, not even in León, Guanajuato. ML: And after those three years in Lubbock, why did you decide to leave Lubbock and look for another job? JL: Well, when I . . . there were two very very big reasons that I felt disdainful, that I felt disappointed with that place. One: In 1961 when it began to turn cold around the beginning of December, none of us had sufficient clothing to withstand the cold. So I asked the boss to take me to buy clothes, and he told me, “I am going to take you and I am going to tell you how to return on the bus, but I cannot wait for you.” “Good, that’s fine,” I say, “after all, I’ll come back on the bus.” So I bought my clothes. I bought a radio. I was so happy because I had a radio and because I had bought new clothes [but] I was very cold and they had packed my clothes in a box in the store. When I arrived at the bus station I felt very cold and I said, “I am going to buy a ticket and then I am going to drink a coffee.” I bought the ticket for Anton, Texas, which was the little town where I lived, and I couldn’t stand the cold any longer. Well, I am not used to the cold. So I went to the restaurant and I asked the lady who worked behind the counter to sell me a coffee. She says: “Can you read that poster?” And I almost suspected [that she was joking] because I didn’t speak English. So I tell her: “Can you give me a coffee please?” Then she tells me, “I am telling you that I can’t sell you a coffee.” And I thought that she was joking. So I showed her a dollar and I told her, “Excuse me, I thought I had American money and that American money could buy whatever I wanted in the United States, but I see that my dollar is different.” At the moment that I said that, the security guard came—he was really a very big güero because I didn’t even reach his shoulder. He had . . . I remember it as if it was today. He was dressed like a cowboy and he had boots with iron spurs, and he told me: “Come with me, please” [said in English]. I still don’t forget that word. I never will forget it. So he took me out to the middle of the street and he tells me, “You want to buy coffee? You have to walk three blocks over here and two blocks over there. They will sell you coffee there, but you’ll get something other than coffee if you keep bothering us. I’ll gonna kick you again [said in English].” So he kicked me three times in the behind [so hard] that I couldn’t even sit to do my necessities six weeks later. That was one disappointment. So since all of the other braceros had gone and I was the only one who was left, the boss took me to live in a very small house. But only morenos [dark-skinned people] lived there. Then some of the morenos started to ask me to lend them a dollar . . . to lend them a dollar and I lent it to them. Then one day it happened that they asked me for three dollars and I didn’t have it because I had just bought my provisions for the week, I had just gave everything to my mom and I didn’t have money. That’s why I didn’t give it to them. It was around seven at night when they asked me [for the money]. He asked me for the money and he returned around eleven at night with other morenos and they started to bang hard on my door with some iron rails. The door was made of iron. Then I was so scared. And behind the room where I lived there was a canal. So I ran away with little clothing—nothing more than my shirt and underwear, without shoes and without anything. I ran away; I threw myself out the back window and I threw myself into the water in the canal and I crossed through about a mile of the irrigated land and I knocked on my boss’s father’s house. He understood . . . came with me to the house . . . we found the house totally—the door had fallen, the house [was] ransacked, they overturned everything. Well I didn’t have anything. I didn’t have anything. They took the radio I had bought and I said: “I’m leaving.” And the next day I grabbed my things and I left, and until later . . . I said that I would not return to Texas because if they had gotten me I wouldn’t be here today, here, in this interview. So then I was contracted again in Empalme, Sonora to go to California. ML: Did you have brothers who were braceros also? JL: Oh, when I went to California I took my oldest brother so that we could help our family a little bit; they needed the help. He was very small, but I said, “Well, if we both get to go, it will be easier to help my mom.” ML: How much older than you was your oldest brother? JL: Four years. ML: And then, when you both came the second time, what happened? JL: Well . . . ML: Well, second place for you. JL: Well, when we . . . they said that there would be braceros again—we didn’t even know where. We signed up and it was [either] luck or something from the top government officials that in that time they sent people to Monterrey or to Empalme, Sonora. Those were the two centers which were in a government camp. Both centers were inside a government military camp. So I signed up and I signed Manuel up, my brother, the oldest of the boys, but he is much smaller than me. Then we came over here to Empalme and it took almost two months for us to be contracted for California. ML: Where did you both go in California? JL: My brother got Stockton, California and I got Sacramento. ML: And you couldn’t pick a place to go together? JL: No because they gave you a number when you entered the contracting [center]. They gave you a number and the number wasn’t drawn until you got there. But when you arrived at the center in Mexicali, they would say from such number to such number . . . if mine was an even [number], I would go with the even [numbers] and if my brother’s number was an odd [number], he would go with the odd [numbers]. So any which way we couldn’t be together. For that you would need a lot of experience. If I would have been a bracero with a lot of experience I would have put another person in between my brother and me so that the numbers would have been in pairs . . . the numbers that we both got. ML: And what did you tell your brother before coming as a bracero? What did you explain to him? JL: Well, I didn’t talk to him about my bad experiences. I didn’t tell him that the morenos had made me run away. I didn’t tell him that the güeros had kicked me. I didn’t tell him things like that to discourage him. I talked to him about, well: “We are going so that you can have new clothes and we are going so that you can help me work,” and that’s it. ML: And then, when you arrived in California . . . what did you do in California? JL: Well, I thought that . . . I thought that it would go very well for us in California because they would say that many [braceros] went there . . . my grandfather never came. And they said that there were many pochos [Americanized Mexicans or Americanized Mexican Americans] . . . many Mexican Americans . . . and they said that we wouldn’t suffer because of our language over there. But the biggest disappointment of my life that I took was that . . . because in California . . . There was a lot of mistreatment over there. Why? Because those same pochos would act as if they were foremen taking care of the braceros . . . working with the braceros from sunrise to sunset. In that time the furrows in which we worked thinning beets, thinning lettuce, [working] with asparagus, [the furrows] were a mile long. Throughout the whole mile we had to be bent over with a hoe—twelve inches from start to finish—and we couldn’t get up because there were about three fieldbosses. To me, they were not fieldbosses; they were foremen behind us, and we couldn’t [get up] for any reason. They simply sent you back to México again if you didn’t obey them. ML: What did you do there? JL: Like I said, like I mentioned before . . .I was working with beets, thinning, with asparagus, with celery, and afterwards picking onions, picking tomatoes . . . and that’s where I felt . . . well, when I was picking onions, I didn’t have a fieldboss anymore because my hands were what followed me . . . they and the longing to earn more money were my fieldboss. Out of 2,700 braceros, I got first place in onions and they gave me $1,000 for first place. I didn’t know that. Many [braceros] that had been picking onions in those camps for years knew that. I didn’t know that. When they told me, I was surprised. ML: And how did one win those $1,000 dollars? JL: For example, they paid us per basket of picked onions—not the ripe ones, because the ones that were ripe had to be cut. They [the picked onions] were for the market; they were picked . . . picked [while they were] green. The top leaf and bottom root had to be cut with scissors. They were for the market. But the onions that we picked in that time were to be put in bottles, for canneries, for restaurants, and for . . . to sell in bags. They paid us thirteen cents per small basket and in that time there were some [braceros] that didn’t even make enough money to cover lunch, because they didn’t throw themselves into their work, because they were lazy in other words. But I was very motivated to make money [and] to work, and in that time I picked at least 250 small baskets, but at all hours of the day I [sweat so much that] I had to wring my clothes out. I got first place in tomatoes. I won a prize of $480-$545 every two weeks, which in that time was a lot of money. It wasn’t easy. It was a lot of work. ML: And then during that time, did you keep communicating with your mother via letters? JL: Yes. That yes. We communicated every eight days. Every eight days a letter would arrive because I would write to my mom every eight days and put what I could contribute. Every fifteen days I sent her money because I didn’t receive payment before, but yes, every fifteen days I sent my mom everything I could. ML: And during that time, did you work seven days a week, or how many days a week did you work? JL: Depended . . . depended. During onion picking time we worked seven days a week. When I worked with the tomatoes we only worked six days a week, but since I wanted to earn an extra pound, I stayed in the evening after picking time to load the buses with the boxes of tomatoes. And there were times when we couldn’t pick all of the tomatoes on Saturday and we had to return to work on Sunday. ML: And did you always receive your wages every fifteen days from your job? Did you ever have a problem with your wages? JL: In Texas I didn’t have a problem. In California, I did because, well, like any other job for money, if it’s by contract, well, you need to keep a log of basically what you did per day, what you did per week, what you did per two weeks. If it’s hourly, you do the same thing. So, for example, [when I worked] with the onions, I was short twenty or thirty baskets everyday. They gave us a card, and that card had numbers. So the field boss or field bosses would punch [a hole in] the card to mark the number of baskets a person had. So I was always short everyday. So they said that you couldn’t make claims to the company or to the center there. You had to do it in the contracting center. But how? How could we make claims when it took two days to get to the contracting center? Logically it was better to stay with that job and with that money because there wasn’t any other alternative. What’s more, those who clung or got on the bad side of the fieldbosses were told: “Your work—your work has finished. Your contract has finished,” and their work would end there. On the other hand, if they didn’t cut your contract [short], they left you in the field [saying], “We don’t need you today. Stay ready for tomorrow.” Tomorrow would come and the second day they wouldn’t pick him up again. When a week would pass and they hadn’t picked up that poor bracero to take him to work, he logically had to grab his few clothes and go back again to México. ML: How long were you in California? JL: I was in California for a year. A year. We returned to México toward the end of [19]63. ML: And then what did you do when you returned to México? JL: When I returned to México I thought that the bad spell of poverty had passed because my brother and I accumulated some few cents and began to work. I planted about forty hectares of wheat and the wheat was growing super well. And March 19th, a frost fell and it froze all the way to the bottom and I was left again with zero [money]. At least I didn’t owe anyone anything. So I said to my brother, “Well now we have more reason to go to the contracting [center]. Let’s go to the contracting [center].” He says, “And, to where?” I tell him, “I know someone that is an attorney and he is sending people for 500 pesos. You just present yourself in Monterrey. It has to be in Monterrey.” He says: “Yeah, well let’s go.” I went to the notary who had the contacts with those from the center . . . because the government and the manipulators become involved in this and there were a lot of traps. There was a lot of manipulation of . . . it’s because when you arrived at the contracting center in Monterrey, two or three people came with the same number. It would be logical that none of them went [because] they weren’t going to pass two or three people with the same number. [But] the one with the least influence went back to his house. So on that occasion I told the notary that he was going to give me a guarantee that I would enter the United States. If not, I wouldn’t give him the money. He said, “That’s fine. I will guarantee it.” “How?” [I ask]. He says, “No. Well, I will guarantee it.” I tell him, “That’s fine. I am going to give you 1,000 pesos when I am contracted on the other side in the United States.” I gave him 1,000 pesos for my part and for my brother. So we came to Monterrey and the next week we were already at the contracting center in Piedras Negras and we came to work in Arkansas. We were in Arkansas for four months and we were in Saginaw, Michigan for six months. ML: And what did you do in Arkansas? JL: In Arkansas I worked with the tractors, cultivating . . . cultivating soybeans, cultivating corn, and cultivating the nut garden. Since at that time my brother didn’t know how to drive tractors or machinery, well, he had to clean [it] because he didn’t have another . . . or helping me oil the tractors or helping me like my assistant because he didn’t know how yet. ML: And why did they give you permission to drive the tractors? Did they let many braceros drive tractors? JL: No, no. Not everyone. Rather they gave you a card and when I was contracted for the first time to go irrigate they were forced to give you permission to drive tractors—to drive pick-ups [said in English], to drive a van or to drive a bus—because when we irrigated we had to carry some plates in the van to block the ditches or the sprinklers, or the canals of water. We had to carry sandbags; we had to carry aluminum pipes to pass the canal water to the planted [area]. And then that card was valid all over the United States. With that card . . . what’s more, with that card I would get paid the cost of an operator no matter where I worked. ML: And were there United States-born operators doing the same work? JL: Well, yes. Yes there were. There were ranchers who worked. Sometimes the woman, sometimes the man, but they worked two or three hours. I was working for two months with two tractors. I drove one and I let go of the other one ahead of where I was fallowing land. Not during the fallowing . . . during the first crop which is done to the land to seed it. You put a brake on the steering wheel of the tractor which was working by itself so that it gave a circular turn, and that was how they worked. And I worked on top of one and always taking care that the other was ahead of me. Yes, I didn’t only earn [a wage] from the one I was driving, but also from the other one that I took care of, and sometimes I worked fourteen, sometimes fifteen, sometimes twelve hours. ML: And why did you leave Arkansas? JL: Well, when the crop ended in Arkansas, the only thing left to do was to distil the rice crop fields [or] wait for the nut harvest or soybean harvest. So with that, well, they didn’t offer many [work] hours anymore. There wasn’t a large expectation anymore to earn good money. Then they posted a notice downtown saying that there was a need to come work cucumber crops in Saginaw, Michigan. So my brother said, “Well I want to get to know Michigan. If you don’t want to go, I’m [still] going to go.” So then I said, “No. Well I won’t let you go alone.” He was very small. [I said], “I will go too,” because if not, my mom will die thinking that I left him alone. So for that reason we came to Saginaw, Michigan. In Saginaw we began to cultivate cucumbers, then to pick them, [then] to take them to where they prepare them to bottle them . . . and like that, until the season ended close to February or January. ML: Did you work every day of the week in Arkansas and Michigan, or how many days did you work? JL: In Arkansas I worked six days. Sometimes when I worked repairing tractors or leaving the machinery ready so that I could start early on Monday, I had to work on Sunday because the boss didn’t like that I would take two hours on Monday to oil the tractor or to put the equipment on the tractor or things like that. He liked for me to start working before six in the morning and he didn’t care how that happened. ML: And in Michigan how many days a week did you work? JL: Only six days in Michigan but there was not an eight-hour-only schedule, no. It was from light until dark. ML: And what did you do on your day off? JL: I spent my day off only washing my clothes, preparing food, cleaning the room in which I slept and everything . . . in writing to my mother or reading a letter. ML: You never went out? (interview interrupted) ML: My name is Mireya Loza. I am interviewing Juan Loza. It is August 23, 2005 in Chicago. I was asking you earlier what you did on your day off, and whether you went out. Did you ever leave your room or the area in which you worked? JL: While I was in Texas I never went to the movies or to a dance hall or went around town. I only went to buy clothes or buy food. That’s it. But for me to say, “today I am going to this party, today I’m going to this rodeo, or to this party of such and such” . . . no. During all that time I absolutely deprived myself of fun things. I never went to the movies. ML: And in Michigan or in Arkansas you didn’t have a chance to do anything else? JL: I never even had the opportunity to say, “I will pass a night dancing, singing, drinking,” or things like that in anyplace at anytime that I was contracted because during that time that I was a bracero . . . I am not a liar or an exaggerator . . . I never even drank one beer. ML: And when you lived in Michigan and Arkansas what were the places like where you lived? JL: Well, in Arkansas I—we lived in a very rotten small house . . . very small. There were rats below because they used half the house to put seeds to sow the next year or to put fertilizers or to put tractor fuel [or] threshing machines and things like that. The boss saw it as nothing [not a big deal]. I came to see that even their dog during that time had a new house and I saw [that the dog got] about three [more] new houses during the time that I was there; and during the time it was cold, it lived in their [the boss’] own house. But on the other hand, we, well, didn’t have that opportunity. We didn’t have that ability. We had to cover ourselves. I remember it as if it was now. They gave us some blankets that the Army [said in English] uses—green ones—and when some braceros started to leave because their work had ended, some left the blankets, and I picked them up. We needed them to cover us. ML: And what did you eat in these different places? JL: Well, when I was in Texas . . . after a year I was already annoyed by the small cakes or the Bimbo bread or things like that because I was accustomed to the tortilla. So I went to the store and a friend told me, “this is flour dough.” I tell him, “What is it for?” He says, “to make tortillas.” “Oh,” I say, “well, I am going to take it to make tortillas.” So it occurred to me to bring two small bags of flour dough with the intention of making tortillas but when I had kneaded the dough and I wanted to make tortillas, well, I couldn’t. ML: Why not? JL: Because, well, I didn’t know how. My hands were rough. My fingers were stiff and I couldn’t make the tortillas. Then my friend tells me, “And now what? Are you going to eat the dough by force, or what?” I tell him, “No.” I tell him, “I have to find an idea from my repertory [experience] as to how I am going to make these tortillas.” So, we had bought a tin of coffee, and I said, “This tin will be of use to make tortillas.” I put a plastic [sheet on it] and [got] the dough ball and cut it like a glass with a wooden tool that was scattered close by. I made a big ball; I did it as if it was a rasero [utensil that smoothes flour], and the tin of coffee was my tortilla press because from there in front I could make the tortillas. (laughs) ML: Yeah . . . and what did you eat in California? JL: Well, in California . . . ML: Did they give you food? JL: They boarded us; they boarded us [they served us food]. But they would make the sandwich as early as the night before and it was really hot, so when one ate it the next day, well, the ham was tart. It was already rotten and the lettuce, well, it was as rotten as the ham in the sandwich. So that’s why I brought my lunch from the beginning. After a while I didn’t take it. I would rather come . . . until the evening came to eat at the house rather than [eat] at the ranch where they boarded us. ML: And in Arkansas and Michigan what did you make? JL: In Arkansas he [the boss] went to buy food, and it was a very expensive store. So, the first time I started to . . . I began to buy things that I saw the boss buying. On that occasion we spent about $50 for my brother and me. I said, “No. Well, I will not do that again.” Then I said, “Now I have to make up the money . . . the lost time,” and I began to . . . we started to eat only potatoes and beans and then later, well, since with eating potatoes and beans the $10 covered us very well, it was better to eat potatoes and beans. ML: And in Michigan? JL: In Michigan . . . when, when we went to Michigan a food store was very near us and my brother had a good appetite—well he was young, everything was new. He always spent his $10 a week for food; during the week he sometimes spent $12, $13, or $14 on cakes, sodas, bread, and that’s how he spent double what I spent. ML: And what happened after Michigan? Did you return to México? JL: Yes. I thought . . . well, our boss in Michigan helped us to get permanent residency but when we told my dad and mom that we were going to get our permanent residency—there in the same place you could apply for residency—my dad and mom didn’t want to. They said that if we got our residency they would lose us and we wouldn’t return to see them and they didn’t want us to get our residency. So we left because the Bracero Program contract between the United States government and the Mexican government ended. ML: And I’m going to ask a series of questions about the program. Did you make longtime friends during the years you were in the United States with the other braceros? JL: Well, very few. Very few because if you wanted to . . . you couldn’t make longtime friends because of the ranchers’ strategies. The more workers who worked together, the more they [the ranchers] felt prohibited from treating them [the braceros] badly or treating them . . . or working them at inappropriate schedules [times of day] or six days a week; because among—let’s say, among ten braceros it’s logical that all ten braceros won’t have the same intentions or the same ambitions or the same availability to dedicate themselves to work. So that’s why the smaller the number of braceros the ranchers had, the easier it was for them to direct them at their whim. ML: At one time did Mexican authorities go to the place where you worked? JL: No. ML: No? JL: No. Mexican authorities never went to workplaces. ML: And did the bosses contract any an illegal [undocumented person] who was not formally part of the Bracero Program? JL: Yes, there were some. There were some at that time. There were already illegals. What happened was . . . a thing in that time . . . since it was very easy to cross into the United States . . . well, those that didn’t want to come, didn’t. Because I crossed when I already had permission as a bracero. I crossed at nine at night. I came to cross the line. They didn’t ask me for anything. You only paid ten cents—afterwards it was twenty cents—and that’s all. I got the bus to where I was going and Immigration never checked me or anything like that. So in that time, those that wanted [to come], well, they came, and without any—without a lot of problems because after you paid the quota on the bridge, they didn’t say anything to you. ML: Did you ever have a problem at work? JL: Well, only the problem where the morenos made me run away—only from that. But when I worked in Arkansas . . . the day that I told my boss that I was going to Michigan he owed me [money for] seven workdays. So when he was going to take me to the bus stop I tell him: “I’m lacking seven workdays.” He says: “No. I’m even with you. I don’t ask you for [money] as credit, in the same way that I don’t ask you to work and then pay you afterward. I pay you beforehand.” I say: “No. Don’t start with those tricks. You pay me for my work. If you don’t pay me, the government will, but [you should] pay me.” And he said that he wouldn’t pay me. I went to Saginaw and he sent me a check for the seven day [pay] that he owed me. ML: And what would happen in the case of an accident or illness? JL: (laughs) Well, in the contract they gave you . . . they gave you some sheets [of paper]—which for me was nothing because in those sheets it said that they were going to give you 400 pesos for a finger; they would give you $1,000 if you lost the five; they would give you $1500 if you lost your arm. But the thing was that it wasn’t even in Spanish; it was in English. Who would defend themselves? Who would they pay or who would they charge? I saw several foot injuries, hand injuries—cut [hands]—but here . . . how did they charge [someone for the loss] if you didn’t know how to defend yourself? So you automatically played dumb . . . like, if they don’t see you, if they don’t see the signs, well then they don’t know what you want to say. ML: Did you get sick at any point? JL: Only from gum pain in Texas, and for that—the boss was very considerate—he didn’t let me work for three days. The same day that I told him that my gums hurt, he took me to the dentist. They took out two [teeth] and the boss’ wife came to see me that night to bring me some pills . . . because they had called the dentist to ask if he would give me something for the pain, and so . . . that boss paid a lot of attention [to us]. I don’t think I was sick anymore in the United States. ML: And in the places where you worked, did they have radios from time to time? You had said that you all bought a radio. Did you listen to the radio a lot? JL: No. We didn’t listen a lot because in Texas almost all the programs at that time were in English. There were times that the only thing you could hear in Spanish were [announcements for?] dances that the people most influential people were going to have. There was a commercial and they started to play, well, half of a song or about two or three phrases of the song and that’s it; but they only did it as commercials. The only station that you could hear in Texas at that time was the Harlingen station. You could hear that, but only during the day. At night you couldn’t hear it anymore. At two in the morning another program called the May Laboratories started and it was followed by a program from Villa Acuña; each program was for an hour and that was it. ML: Did you all—the braceros—celebrate Holy Week or Christmas or 16th of September in these various locations? JL: None of that. ML: No. Did you return to México when your contract ended . . . the last contract in Michigan? JL: Yes. ML: Did your boss arrange transportation to return to México? JL: Yes. ML: After you finished your work contract how difficult was it to get a new contract? Well, the last one was because the program had ended, right? JL: They didn’t have it anymore. From the moment the agreement between the United States government and the Mexican government ended, they didn’t legally have any work agreement anymore. ML: And when did you return to the United States again? Which year? JL: Well, we stayed in the same situation because as the family keeps growing so do their desires—the illusions of a better future. Although my mom knew we were very poor she never lost her dreams to educate someone in the family; that goal never left her mind. So when I returned, I put myself in charge of caring for my mom’s mom and one of my sisters. So I began to buy livestock—[of] cows, pigs, chickens, of everything—and it began to go very well. I accumulated a small amount of capital so I thought that I didn’t need to return to the United States anymore. But in [19]66, my grandmother died and I no longer had control of or motivation to keep working in México because everything turned out bad for me. I bought a few oxen—they robbed them from me. I tried to get my passport in order. On the day that I was about to receive my visa . . . an uncle helped me; he bought me my letter of support; I applied in the embassy in México and my application was accepted, but the day that I was going to get my visa . . . the law changed that day to say that if you didn’t have your income tax form you couldn’t get a visa. And since I had worked as a bracero, I did not have any forms. I didn’t even know what they were talking about—that income tax form. So for me my wings were torn off and things started to go wrong. My mom was sick; they robbed me; I made bad deals; I was left with nothing economically and from what I thought I had in capital . . . . not even a hangover was left because I didn’t even drink. So I said, “I will go to the United States. I will go illegally.” And so I told my brother but by then he was already married, he already had two children, and [so] he didn’t want to come anymore. So then I told one of my other brothers [and he] said, “I will go.” “Well, we’ll go,” [I said]. We came illegally. My uncle sent us the name of a coyote, the name of a hotel where we had to get to, and then the hardest part for me was the day in which the one who was a smuggler, or the coyote appeared. He says, “I am going to smuggle fifty [people] tonight but I only want to have an agreement with one of you.” So, I don’t know why they saw me as the leader or I don’t know—maybe it’s because I talk too much. They said that I should be the one. He said, “So [said in English], when we leave from the hotel I am going to collect a third of what you all will pay me here when we get in the car; on the other side [of the border] you all will give [me] the other third and when I take you to the destination, you all will complete the payment.” So when I gave him the money . . . before I gave him all of our money, he gave me a 38 Super [pistol] and he says, “You are responsible. You have the money, right?” I said, “yes.” [He said,] “you are going to answer to them—to all of them and to me [if anything happens] to that money. That’s why I am giving you this so that you can defend yourself. So we left at ten at night from the hotel and at two in the morning we were, well, we were crossing the river. When we got out of the river . . . he had already told me, “if we see someone and if you don’t shoot him, I will shoot you.” I tell him, “that’s fine.” So when we got out of the river there was a big slope and there were some drug smugglers there and I saw them suddenly and I shot twice and he says: “Stop your bullshit already. Don’t make noise. Don’t make noise.” I said, “well what was our deal? What is our agreement?” He said, “okay.” He says, “okay, okay, alright.” So . . . how much did we walk? It must have been about a kilometer; it was already close to four in the morning. He tells me that he wants the money. I told him: “I’m not even going to give you a penny.” He said: “you’re going to give me the money.” I said: “I told you that I am not even going to give you a penny.” He said: “Well if you don’t give me the money, give me the gun.” So then I get much closer to him and I told him: “If you want it I’ll give it to you while its shooting. Do you want it?” “No,” [he said]. I said: “Well then, we’ve reached an agreement. Go away. We’ll go ahead.” We came to Chicago. I brought my very young brother. ML: Which brother? JL: Pedro. So then I started to have a hard time getting him work because he was so young and . . . ML: And why did you come to Chicago? JL: Because one of my dad’s brother’s was here and we thought we’d find support in him, find help like we did. ML: And why did your uncle come to Chicago? JL: My uncle came illegally to Chicago in [19]56 and after he returned illegally he got married. And his wife’s brothers had immigrated [to the United States]. After two years of marriage, her brothers helped my uncle emigrate. ML: And were her relatives in Chicago? JL: Yes, yes. His wife’s relatives were in Chicago. They helped my uncle and my uncle helped us. ML: And what did you come to do in Chicago? What was your first job here? JL: When we arrived here in Chicago, the first thing we did—right away—was to request a social security [number] because without it we couldn’t work. But in that time, in [19]68, you only had to fill out a form containing your information—your age, your parents[’ names], and that’s it. They gave you your social security [number] right there in the office. In that way, in that time, well, that problem didn’t exist. Then, well, like everyone, you want to earn money fast—a lot [of money]. So my uncle found us a contract in construction. That’s where I started to work and I got my brother a job there and we worked in Wisconsin, Milwaukee, in Springfield, [and] Joliet (??). We were working in the government site but it wasn’t so difficult anymore for me because what I knew about driving machinery helped me earn more money and have a more secure job . . . since I also knew a little of, well, of mechanics of the machinery and I also already knew a little English. ML: Where did you learn English? JL: (laughs) That was hard—to learn English. When I stayed in Texas—to work in the winter in Texas—I worked with the mechanics who were morenos. They didn’t even speak a word of Spanish and there were times that they told me, “Give me the pliers,” and I would give them the screwdriver. Well with that same screwdriver they struck me the hardest they could in the back and they reminded me of my mom then. ML: Was that when you were a bracero in Texas? JL: Yeah, that was when I was a bracero. So then I was there for like two months, struggling a lot and one day a moreno tells me . . . ML: The morenos were the mechanics? JL: Yes. So the moreno—of the mechanics—tells me that he wants me to go to his house. And he was kind to me because he took me [to his house] so that his wife—she was Mexican—so that his wife could give me English classes. So she told me, “My husband says that if you want to learn English I should teach you and he’ll bring you every afternoon so that you can study English.” And then I tell her, “Yeah, well I appreciate it.” I tell her, “Yes, of course.” I tell her, “well, thank you for your kindness.” And then she tells me, “Well I am going to lend you this notebook so that this afternoon won’t go to waste.” And she started to write the alphabet—a, b, c, and all of that. And I took it with me and at night I studied. I told her, “And tomorrow, what will I get out of this? They’re going to keep throwing the hammer at me, throwing the wrenches at my back, because I don’t feel like this helps me in my job.” Well, that night I hardly slept. I got the notebook and on the other side [of the page] where the alphabet was written I made a list of all of the, of all of the tools that we used as mechanics: the hammer, I put “martillo”; then I put pliers, screwdriver, wrenches, then the size of the wrenches and the caliber, the material, and I put all of the tools on a list. I already knew what tools were needed and used as a mechanic. So the next day I go to her and I say, “hey, I’m sorry but the system you’re using to teach me English will take a lifetime [to learn so that] I can speak English. I want to speak English now because I need it.” She says, “And how do you want to learn?” I tell her, “my way.” “How?” [she asks]. “Like this. How I have this [list]. I’m going to learn it like that,” [I said]. And she starts to look [at it] and she says, “I doubt it.” I say, “Well I don’t doubt it because I am going to learn it.” Then I say, “just do me a favor. How do you say hammer in English? How do you explain it?” She says, “hammer [in English].” [I ask,] “what are the pliers called?” “Pliers [in English],” [she says]. “What is the screwdriver called?” [I ask]. “Screwdriver [in English],” [she says]. So I wrote in Spanish, but however I thought it was spelled in English and that was how I learned a bit of English. ML: For you what does the word “bracero” mean? JL: Well, the term “bracero” . . . well, for me it is a word of distinction. For me it is a word full of pride. It is a word that I want to live on in history. ML: Do you feel like the Bracero Program impacted your town in México? JL: I feel like the Bracero Program impacted all Mexicans—that in some way or another they were touched; they were favored; they were noticed; they were motivated to direct themselves to this nation, because if there would have never been braceros, there wouldn’t be the millions of Mexicans in the United States that there actually are today . . . whether we are legal or illegal. But I am sure that if it wasn’t for the Bracero Program we Mexicans wouldn’t be in the United States in the way we are today. ML: And how did your town change because of the Program? JL: Well because of the braceros, my town . . . I was the first one to be contracted from my town as a bracero. Afterwards there began to be more [who became braceros]. When I . . . when the Bracero Program ended there were about twelve braceros from my town. So that was a big difference between zero braceros, one bracero, and twelve braceros. ML: And what did your sisters and your mom think about so many braceros going [to the United States]? JL: Well, I think that what my mom and my sisters thought . . . it was very difficult for them to think or soak up [understand] the problems that we braceros had. That is hard, very hard because even as far as today I have not had the willingness to say to my mother: “This is what I suffered when I was a bracero.” And I am not going to do it. Today I am doing it because I feel a duty as a Mexican, as a bracero, that if this is a story that starts or if this is a story that goes on the road, I am part [a link] of the chain of this story. ML: How do you feel that they call you a bracero? JL: I feel proud. I feel proud to have been a bracero because I started at the bottom. I suffered in the beginning. Life threw me blows at the beginning. I started with humiliations. But today I also feel fortunate because I have a family; I live in the United States; God gave me children who had opportunities that I didn’t have; but the important thing is that I feel like they [the opportunities] are mine. ML: Did having been a bracero change your life in any way? JL: Yes, it changed my life a lot because for me life has been [like] school. Every day is different. Everyday is new. We all have economic problems, health [problems], disagreements about everything, but there is always an alternative—how to confront it, how to resolve it, and I discovered this on the path of the braceros. ML: I have just finished the interview, but would you like to share anything more or say anything more before I turn off the tape? JL: Well, what I want to say is to all those who are collaborating on this bracero history, that they should not feel embarrassed. They should not feel like second-class citizens among any society, among any race or nation. They should only feel like humans with their own, with their roots, with their traditions that their parents have instilled in them. Because it makes me sad to hear news of drug addiction, of hooliganism, of ruin, but it makes me proud and satisfied [to hear] of Hispanics who persevere, who better themselves, who try to be the star which many Hispanics should follow, because we are a large nation, strong, capable. And in the future the reality shines that the United States will pay attention to us—not like numbers, rather like people with rights, with respect, with dignity, so that our race and our children can feel proud to be Hispanic and to be people who have come [from], come from braceros. ML: Thank you, uncle. End of interview. Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:46:25 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Loza_CHIC014 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Juan Loza Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Juan Loza was born on October 11, 1939, in Manuel Doblado, Guanajuato, México; he was the eldest of his twelve siblings; in 1960, he joined the bracero program, and he worked in Arkansas, California, Michigan, and Texas; he picked beets, celery, corn, cucumbers, onions, peanuts, peppers, rice, soybeans, and tomatoes; he returned to México after the program, but he later decided to migrate to Chicago, Illinois, as an undocumented worker in 1968. Summary of Interview: Mr. Loza recalls his childhood in Manuel Doblado, Guanajuato, México; he explains that he had little formal schooling, and he began working at age eight; additionally, he states that he heard of the bracero program from his godfather, and he approached the mayor of his town to be placed on the bracero list; he recounts his experiences while waiting to be contracted in Monterrey, Nuevo León, México, and how he had to work in order to have a place to stay while waiting for his name to be called; moreover, he relates what the process was like, the rough treatment he received from doctors, the way exams were conducted, and how he was dusted during the disinfection process; he worked as a bracero from 1960 to 1964, picking beets, celery, corn, cucumbers, onions, peanuts, peppers, rice, soybeans, and tomatoes in Arkansas, California, Michigan, and Texas; he talks about what his life was like as a bracero, the living quarters he had, the food he ate, and the way he was treated; furthermore, he narrates how he was denied service at a restaurant in Texas, and he was consequently beaten by a guard; he also recalls another incident in Texas when a group of morenos he worked with attempted to break into his living quarters; in addition, he states that he was treated badly by Mexican-American foremen; in 1968, he returned to the United States as an undocumented worker due to poverty; he concludes by expressing that he is proud to have been a bracero, which ultimately helped him change his life. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Loza, Mireya Loza, Juan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2005-08-31 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Juan Loza creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Loza, Mireya contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/perla_az058_8d47f42a5e.mp3 31b8e761b737122e414d32d7c25d4b36 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Loza, Mireya Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Perla, Lorenzo Location The location of the interview. Phoenix, Arizona Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:14:11 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Perla_AZ058 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lorenzo Perla Subject The topic of the resource bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Lorenzo Perla was born in Concheño, which is in the municipality of Ocampo, Chihuahua, México; his father died a few months before he was born, and his mother died when he was only six months old; consequently, he was raised by his oldest sister and her uncle on her husband’s side; Lorenzo worked rather than go to school, and he learned to read and write as an adult; in 1949, he enlisted in the bracero program and completed three contracts; as a bracero, he labored in the fields of Michigan, New Mexico and Texas, picking beets, cabbage, cotton, cucumbers and lettuce; in addition, he worked as a cook and drove tractors. Summary of Interview: Mr. Perla talks about coming to work in the United States during the late 1940s without proper documentation; in 1949, while working in New Mexico, he was taken to El Paso, Texas to obtain documents through the bracero program; he describes the process he underwent in El Paso, including medical exams and delousing procedures, which made him feel like he was looked down upon; as a bracero, he labored in the fields of Michigan, New Mexico and Texas, picking beets, cabbage, cotton, cucumbers and lettuce, and he completed three contracts; in addition, he worked as a cook and drove tractors; he also goes on to detail the various worksites, housing, accommodations, provisions, duties, contract lengths and renewals, remittances, correspondence, friendships and recreational activities, including trips into town; moreover, he explains that he was so bad at picking cotton he became a cook; the other braceros paid him to cook for them instead of picking; later, he even learned how to drive a tractor, which helped him obtain longer contracts; oftentimes, on his days off, he picked enough to fill his bag and get a head start on the week; he also relays several other anecdotes about his experiences; furthermore, he talks about meeting his wife, who he later learned was the daughter of a man he had previously worked with as a bracero; he was ultimately able to arrange for legal residency with the help of a family member. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Loza, Mireya Perla, Lorenzo Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2008-01-12 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Lorenzo Perla creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Loza, Mireya Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/gonzalez_sanb007_b4f82b5129.mp3 14b0125bcb38710b5cd7490a602ae461 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Martínez, Jackie Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. González, Lorenzo Location The location of the interview. San Bernardino, CA Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Nombre del entrevistado: Lorenzo González Fecha de la entrevista: 26 de mayo de 2006 Nombre del entrevistador: Jackie Martínez LG: Constantemente le escribía a mi mamá, que en paz descanse, le escribía y le mandaba sus centavitos. JM: Ah, okay. Y, ¿su mamá y escribió cartas a usted? LG: Sí, también. JM: ¿Sí? LG: También me mandaban cartas. JM: Y luego, a ver, pues, ¿cuántos días trabajó por semana? LG: Y, como le digo, eso había a veces que trabajábamos hasta los domingos, no había descanso los domingos muchos, porque cuando estaba muy necesitado del trabajo. Sí, entonces sí, puede ser que había oportunidad de ganar centavos. Porque si acepta, había trabajo, mucho. Entonces no, no, había veces que muy raro le decían: “Tienes el sábado y el domingo”. Tienes un domingo o tienes un sábado, nada más. JM: Okay. LG: Porque aquí trabajamos. JM: Okay. Y en esos días libres, ¿qué hizo? LG: Pues, ya lo dedicaba uno, salía al pueblito, a conocer un pueblo y regresarse uno. (risas) JM: Ah, okay. LG: Conocer los pueblos. (risas) Es todo. La vida cotidiana de ahí, ey. JM: Y, ¿salió caminando? ¿Alguien tenía carro o qué? ¿Cómo? LG: Que había que andar este, en raite [ride] y a veces no. Yo también tenía un carrito chiquito, después compré un carrito y ya vámonos. JM: ¿Usted compró carro? LG: Sí, que yo compré mi carrito. JM: Ah, okay. LG: Ey. JM: Y a ver, pues descríbame su rutina diaria. Pues desde que se levantaba hasta… LG: Mire, cuando en ese tiempo, ¿de ese tiempo? JM: Sí, de esa época, sí. LG: Nos levantábamos a las tres de la mañana. JM: ¿Tres en la mañana? LG: Tres de la mañana, nos íbamos al comedor a comer lo que uno quisiera. Podía usted comer. Y luego, ya de allí ya ellos llevaban para las diez de la mañana el break y ahí entonces nos daban, nos llevaban de comer al campo. Nos llevaban de comer al campo, a las diez. Y luego de eso, le daban su break y le seguía, ya seguía uno en el trabajo y ya hasta las doce o a la una de la tarde, comer. Y si se, se necesitaba el trabajo, había quién nos, nos llevara mejor lonche, que llevarnos al trabajo. Si no, ya se iba uno al campo, ahí en el campo ya agarramos a descansar, equis como poder bañarse uno bien, de jugar, a veces jugando balón, jugando de lo que fuera, ¿vedá¬? A ver. Era la rutina diaria y acostarse temprano, porque pos había que madrugar. (risas) JM: Pues sí. LG: No salía uno. No salíamos a ninguna aparte afuera en el pueblo, más que en el campo. El sábado, como le digo, el sábado o el domingo, sí. Sí, si nos daban esos días, bueno, si no, pos a trabajar. JM: Okay. Y a ver, pues, ¿usted que pensó de los braceros? LG: Que, ¿qué pensé? JM: Sí. LG: O, ¿qué pienso? JM: Pues a ver, pues, ¿qué pensó en es[a] época? Y luego, ahora, ¿qué piensa? LG: Ya, pues. (risas) Ahí, ahí sí. Pues en ese tiempo yo pensé de los braceros, que venían, pues todos a trabajar. Eso sí, a trabajar. Pues sí, como eran de distintas partes, distintas culturas, ¿vedá? Distintas culturas cada quien pues había de todo, ¿verdad? Habíamos bien, otros mal y otros y que sé yo, ¿verdad? Había de todo. Ahora que en los braceros, pues que están en eso, pues pienso yo, digo que, que está peleando, ¿no? (risas) Los que están peleando por sus centavos. Que a mí también me quitaron, también se acuerda que, pos yo no los peleo, porque digo… No, no los he peleado, porque pos, ¿quién sabe? Si haiga o no nos den, ¿verdad? (risas) JM: Pues sí. LG: Pero, pues está bien que sí lo hagan, pero pues cada quien podemos hablar según como le vaya a uno, ¿vedá? Muchos sí hablan mal, que no les dieron de comer bien, que esto y lo otro y mal. Pero yo digo que a mí no me tocó eso. Y en los campos que estuve yo, no veía yo esa descriminación [discriminación]. JM: ¿No? LG: No la llegué a ver. Le hablo yo con la verdad, no la llegué a ver, porque verdaderamente, pues estábamos bien. Comíamos lo que queríamos y estábamos allí. JM: Y, ¿las condiciones estaban bien? LG: Las condiciones estaban bien como para ello. Porque en mi cultura, pues no es… Pero también nunca tuve necesidad en México también. Mis padres estuvieron bien, nomás que le, ya cuando crecieres, lo hacía en la juventud, ¿verdad? (risas) Salirse uno, ¿verdad? (risas) La desesperación de hacer algo, es lo que me trajo por acá, me trajo por acá a trabajar. JM: Okay. LG: Y por eso sé, sé distinguir una cosa de otra, ¿vedá? En las personas, ¿vedá? De que pues saben que les fue mal y está bien. JM: Qué bueno, qué bueno. Y luego, después de la época de los braceros, ¿qué hizo? LG: En [19]50 me fui para México. JM: Okay. ¿A dónde en México? LG: A Guadalajara. JM: A Guadalajara. LG: Ey. JM: Okay. LG: De ahí, en el [19]52 entré a trabajar a un banco. JM: ¿En México? LG: En México, en Guadalajara. JM: Okay. LG: Hasta en 1978. Hasta 1978 trabajé. Y entonces sí ya me vine a arreglado para acá con papeles. JM: Ah, okay. LG: Entonces ya me emigré. Antes andaba así nomás sin [papeles]. (risas) JM: Pues sí. (risas) LG: Anduve de mojado mucho tiempo, (risas) muchos años, ¿vedá? Pero entonces, ya me vine para acá, precisamente, pues porque ya traje papeles y me vine a estacionar aquí. Y ya estando aquí, ya pues toda mi familia se vino para acá. (risas) JM: Okay. Okay. LG: ¿Cómo ve? JM: Okay. Oh, pues tengo una pregunta. En la época de braceros, ya regresamos a ese tiempo. Pues, ¿podría distinguir quién era bracero y quiénes no eran o no? LG: No, pues prácticamente sí. JM: ¿Sí? LG: ¿Cómo no? Sí, porque pues, bien… JM: ¿Cómo? LG: Pues, el hecho de que trabajamos en los campos y venir de México, onde es natural, ¿verdad? Cuando una persona sale al pueblo, pues dicen: “Es bracero”. Por su modo de vestir, su modo de hablar, que habla español y toda esa cosa. Y su modo de vestirse porque… JM: ¿Su modo de vestir? LG: Era lo primero. JM: ¿Como qué? LG: Pues muchos en ese tiempo, pues muchos venían pues, como esos del campo, ¿verdad? Siempre con su sombrero. JM: Su sombrero. Okay. LG: De sombreros y su ropa, pues de campo. Yo afortunadamente, ¿verdad? Pues como me crié en Guadalajara, pos yo traía otras costumbres, ¿verdad? JM: Pues sí. LG: Otras costumbres hasta de modo de vestir, ¿vedá? JM: ¿Como jeans y todo eso? (risas) LG: De eso, de todo buscaba. (risas) De todo buscábamos, de lo que fuera mejorcito, me iba a buscar. Ahorita le digo esto, mira, yo andaba trabajando allí en, en la casa, ahí en la yarda, llevaba cinco años. ¿Qué es eso? (risas) Porque tuve la oportunidad para trabajar también en un banco y de ahí vestir diferente. Porque allá en los bancos se trabaja que diario la corbata y de traje. Y aquí no, aquí en los bancos va usted y no, y así con (risas) camisa por donde quiera, ¿vedá? Y ve uno la diferiencia [diferencia] que no, no tienen, pues, aquí el modo de distinción, ¿verdad? JM: Sí. LG: En los bancos. Y el bracero, es como, yo no sé, pues su modo de vestir, también inmediatamente es: “Trabajaba el campo, ¿vedá?”. JM: Sí. LG: Y trabajaba así. Y ese jue mi, mi rutina que tenía, (risas) que he tenido. JM: Okay. Y, ¿es cierto que los braceros tenían sus sombreros, eran diferentes dependiendo de qué región venían? LG: Bueno, como el sombrero, pues de eso no sé. Pues venía uno con los sombreros que usan allá en México. JM: ¿Sí? LG: Del uso del sombrero, ¿no? No, esos no, no traían charros de… Sombrero de charro, no lo traían, porque de charros no, sino un sombrero común y corriente, como todavía hasta la fecha usan muchos mexicanos. Yo tengo uno también ahí, muy chiquito. (risas) JM: Y, ¿usted usaba sombrero? LG: No. JM: ¿No? LG: En aquel tiempo no. JM: Okay. LG: No. JM: Okay. LG: Y llegué a usar sombrero de fieltro chiquito. Puede que en mis fotografías que tenga un sombrero chiquito. JM: Ah, okay. (risas) LG: Y cachuchas también de trabajo, en las fotografías. JM: Okay. Y, ¿usted transportó a braceros también? ¿Sí? LG: Transportar, pues llevando de un, de un rancho cuando había que llevar, porque siempre había camiones grandes para transportarlos a todos. No cabían, entonces yo llevaba mi camioneta que tenían, se los llevaba, porque me decían: “Ahora llévate esa camioneta tú”. Pero no porque era mi trabajo, no era, mi trabajo. JM: Okay, okay. LG: Ey. Yo trabajé en máquinas de piscar lechugas, eso sí. Tractor también lo trabajé, tractor. Y en los camiones de transporte, era nomás, nomás en Fresno usé, en Fresno sí anduve hasta de mayordomo con una troca grande. Llegábamos a una parte donde, que se usa donde ponen a los trabajadores de aquí y todavía se usa. Y se juntaba una parte en Fresno, en el centro, mucha gente. Y entonces llegaba uno con su troca y ya decíamos: “Necesito tantos”. Ya se subían. “Vamos a trabajar”. Y otros y otros llegaban así a trabajar. Y conmigo así nomás llegaba yo y luego, se me subían todos y yo les decía: “No, nomás tantos”. (risas) Porque ese italiano, español este, les daba, les daba wine en el agua y muchos les gustaba, (risas) por eso se me subían. JM: Ah. LG: Por eso me seguían allí, por la… Con eso. JM: Y a ver, nomás tengo dos o tres preguntas más, pero mi primer pregunta es: ¿Para usted qué significa el término bracero? LG: Bueno, la palabra bracero, no le comprendo el, el significado. Pero pues el hecho de que nombraron así braceros, para mí es un hombre de campo, un hombre trabajador que viene, viene al trabajo del campo, sencillamente. Especialmente lo mandaba así, en el trabajo. Pero el significado tiene su, tiene que tener su significado, pero, no lo tengo en cuenta, ni (risas) en mi mente tampoco. Sí, es lo que pienso yo del hombre trabajador. JM: Okay. LG: O sea, pura gente de campo trabajadora que vino. JM: Y a ver, pues en general, pues ya me dijo qué pensaba de los braceros, pero esa época de su vida, ¿ha afectado su gran vida o no? LG: No. JM: ¿No? LG: Prácticamente, no, pues de mi vida tomé esos detalles como una época de trabajo para mí, que vine a trabajar aquí a lo rudo, ahí. Porque sí, pues fue trabajo duros aquí en el campo, ¿verdad? Pero pos trabajé a gusto, como le digo, la juventud que tenía en ese tiempo. JM: Pues sí. LG: No me interesaba, ¿verdad? JM: Sí. LG: Trabajar. JM: Okay. LG: Trabajé también, trabajé también en una compañía ganadera cargando pacas de alfalfa y de ir a despachar al, al ganado. Pura, fue de pura fuerza el trabajo, de pura fuerza. (risas) Así es que todo para mí fue bonito, ¿vedá? JM: Okay. LG: Y ya después también, pues ya formé mi familia y también he vivido a gusto con todos mis hijos, bendito sea Dios. (risas) Me tocó suerte con tantos hijos. JM: ¿Sí? LG: Nueve. JM: Ah, ¿nueve? LG: Nueve, nueve. (risas) JM: ¡Ah, nueve! (risas) Pues, qué suave. LG: La más pequeña, (risas) es la más pequeña, ya estoy viejo yo. JM: No. (risas) No, no, no. LG: De ochenta y un años, ya tengo. JM: ¿Sí? LG: Ochenta y un años. JM: Pues, se ve bien. (risas) LG: Porque pos todo el tiempo me ha gustado trabajar, sí. Me retiré de trabajar y yo siempre en la casa trabajo en lo que haiga, pero me gusta trabajar. Es todo lo que hago. JM: Qué bueno. LG: Sí. JM: Okay. LG: Y eso ayuda. JM: Pues muchas gracias. LG: En cuanto a eso, todo lo que dice usted de la… Entiendo yo que igual ustedes quieren saber de todo lo que es de los braceros, la vida de ellos. JM: Sí. LG: Y es bonito, me gusta que lo publiquen todas esas cosas, porque sí fue una época que todos los braceros de México y entre ellos me encuentro yo también, ¿verdad? Pues venimos a Estados Unidos a trabajar, a levantarlo en una, una época muy difícil, que si no hubiera sido por los braceros, con decirle que sacaban a los niños a trabajar al campo, porque no había gente. Porque fue una cooperación de todos los mexicanos, venimos a trabajar, a levantar a esta nación también, para ayudarles para el futuro que hoy estamos viviendo. Y yo digo, como viví toda esa época, digo, ¡caramba! Sí es necesario que nos tomen en cuenta algo. (risas) ¿Verdad? JM: Sí. LG: Un poquito porque sí, sí es una cosa que, hemos venido a trabajar aquí, no venimos a otras cosas, ¿verdad? (risas) JM: Sí. Okay. Pues, muchas gracias. LG: No, gracias a usted. Al contrario, muchas gracias a usted. Fin de la entrevista Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 27:00 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Gonzalez_SANB007 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lorenzo González Subject The topic of the resource bracero Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Lorenzo González was born in 1925, in the state of Jalisco, México; he grew up financially secure, and neither he nor his family were ever in need of anything; when he was young, he wanted something to do, so he enlisted in the bracero program to come to the United States; in 1950, he returned to México; two years later he began working at a bank in Guadalajara, Jalisco, México; he was ultimately able to immigrate to the United States. Summary of Interview: Mr. González recalls writing letters to his mother while he was in the United States; he states there was always a lot of work to be done, which always led to a chance to make money; as a bracero, some of his duties included working with machines that picked lettuce and driving tractors and transportation buses; in addition, while he was in Fresno, California, he was a foreman, and he was responsible for picking up braceros at the processing centers; it was difficult, because oftentimes more men than they needed loaded themselves into the truck in the hope of getting work; during his free time he would play ball or talk with the others, and on weekends he would go into town; he explains that sometimes, when the buses transporting the men to the fields were full, he would drive himself in his own car and take others with him; although he was aware that for some men things went horribly, this was not the case for him; in 1950, he returned to México; two years later he began working at a bank in Guadalajara, Jalisco, México, and he continued working there until 1978; he comments that overall, the program did not change his life much; he worked very hard, but he was young and it was a way to pass the time; moreover, he states that braceros came to help the United States during an especially difficult time; even children were in the fields at the time, because there was no one else left to work. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Martínez, Jackie González, Lorenzo Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource spa Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Lorenzo González Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/augustine_elp002_b915070194.mp3 1d877022a6945fc7c277479543a9cef1 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: John L. Agustine nació en El Paso, Texas el 29 de agosto de 1914; su padre trabajaba en las minas de Lordsburg, Nuevo México. Él realizó estudios de agricultura en la Universidad del Estado de Nuevo México y enseñó por un breve periodo; luego se convirtió en agente auxiliar del Condado de Doña Ana, donde prestó servicios como coordinador para el Programa Bracero. Resumen de la Entrevista: La primera experiencia laboral del Sr. Augustine fue la enseñanza de agricultura vocacional en el sistema de Escuelas Públicas de Farmington, luego se convirtió en agente asistente del Condado de Doña Ana bajo la dirección del Sr. Lee Gould; luego de que se jubiló el Sr. Gould, el Sr. Augustine prestó servicios como agente del condado; como agente en funciones del Programa Bracero su trabajo era asegurarse de que todo funcionara como debía, informaba a la agencia contratista la cantidad de trabajadores que necesitaban los agricultores. Además, mediaba en las disputas y las resolvía, entre agricultores y braceros, exigiéndoles a los agricultores que proporcionaran las condiciones de vivienda adecuadas conforme a los estándares del programa; hace un recuento asimismo de las temporadas de cosecha específicas para las que se contrataban braceros y las tareas que éstos realizaban; según él lo recuerda, nunca se presentó ningún problema serio con este programa. El uso de los braceros brindaba una relación simbiótica mediante la cual las necesidades tanto de braceros como de agricultores podían ser satisfechas. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Morgan, Beth Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Augustine, John L. Location The location of the interview. Las Cruces, New Mexico Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of Interviewee: John L. Augustine Date of Interview: April 28, 2003 Name of Interviewer: Beth Morgan This is Beth Morgan and it is April 28, 2003 and I visiting with Mr. John L. Augustine at home in Las Cruces, New Mexico. He is a former Dona Ana county agent for the Cooperative Extension Service. This interview is for the Bracero Oral History Project. BM: May I ask, when and where you were born, Mr. Augustine? JA: Where was I born? BM: Um-hm. JA: In El Paso, Texas. BM: When was that? JA: In El Paso, Texas, in 1914. BM: When is your birthday? JA: August 29, 1914. BM: Did you grow up in El Paso? JA: No. My mother and father lived in Lordsburg, New Mexico. He was a mining engineer there, and he had a little mine out, close to the 85 mine. My mother went to El Paso to have me, because there were no facilities in Lordsburg at that time. BM: You grew up in Lordsburg? JA: That’s right. BM: Is that where you graduated from high school? JA: No. I went to high school two years in Lordsburg and then attended the New Mexico Military Institute for four years. Two years of high school and two years of junior college. In 1935, I came down to New Mexico State University. I took agriculture and attended the university here until I graduated. BM: You got a bachelor’s degree— JA: In agriculture. BM: I believe you said your first position was with the Cooperative Extension Services. JA: My first position was teaching vocational agriculture in Farmington, New Mexico, for a year. BM: Was that with a public school then? JA: Yes, ma’am. Then I came from there, got employed by the New Mexico [Cooperative] Extension Service, and became assistant county agent here in Las Cruces, under County Agent Lee Gould. When he retired, I became county agent. BM: What year was that? JA: I’ve been trying to think, but I think it was sometime in the early forties. BM: That would have been during the time that the Bracero Project was in effect? JA: Yes, ma’am. BM: Can you tell me a little about your training for the position of county agent? JA: You just needed a degree in agriculture, and that is what started you out. The purpose of the [Cooperative] Extension Service is to bring information on what is going on at the university in the Agriculture Department out to the farmers and ranchers…experiment work, mostly. BM: How many years did you work for the [Cooperative] Extension Service? JA: I think it was about ten years. BM: Then you went on to something else? JA: I became the director of the New Mexico Farm and Livestock Bureau, Executive Vice President of the New Mexico Farm and Livestock Bureau. BM: Do you speak Spanish? JA: Just pick-up terms. I took Spanish in high school and then in college. I know the basics of it, but I can’t speak it. BM: Can you describe for me what your role was in the Bracero Program as a county agent? JA: Mostly, I would take orders from the farmers for the numbers of people that they needed to help them do farm work. By and large, as I remember this, it was mostly to pick cotton that the Bracero Program was in effect in Doña Ana County. BM: Then what did you do with those orders? JA: There was another organization that handled the braceros. [The organization] went down, recruited them, brought them into the country from Mexico, and made them available to go on the farms. BM: Would that have been the Doña Ana County Farm and Livestock Bureau? JA: I don’t remember. I don’t think it was the farm bureau, but it could have been. BM: I think it was at some time. It may not always have been. You took orders for how many workers the farmers needed? JA: Yes, ma’am. If a certain farmer needed fifteen or twenty or whatever number, why then we would get them. [We would] go to the organization that had brought them in and made them available and get them to take them to the farm. BM: Were there any other responsibilities that you had that related to the Bracero Program? JA: Only to try to make it as available and work as good as possible. The men had to be available to bring them over here and make them available to go to the farm. BM: What years did you work with the braceros or with that program? JA: I can’t give you the exact years. (laughs) Like I said, I’m getting pretty old, and I can’t remember exact dates anymore, during the time that I was county agent. BM: Maybe 1942 to 1952, something like that? JA: Yeah, something like that. BM: Your job assignment then was here in Doña Ana County? JA: That’s right. BM: Did you ever have to go out to the farms as a result of your— JA: If there became disagreements or some farmer was accused of not doing the right thing with the men, why, I would try to settle that and be sure that those things didn’t happen. BM: You would kind of work with the farmers and the braceros? JA: That’s right, to see that they were treated properly, paid, and that they did their job. Between an employer and workers, there sometimes develops disagreements and things like that. I would try to help straighten those things out. BM: Do you remember any of those in particular? JA: No, ma’am, I don’t. They happened as they would happen in any program. My job was to try to make this program successful and to work to get our agriculture products picked, like the cotton picked and out of the farm. BM: Did you ever have any reason to travel down to the recruiting station? I think it was in Eagle Pass, Texas. JA: No, ma’am, I never did. BM: Did you ever have to go anywhere else to do your job as administrator of that program? JA: No, ma’am. Mostly, I was right here in the county working to try to get the braceros to the farmers and to see that they did their job of doing the agriculture work. BM: Did you have any responsibilities for checking the qualifications of the braceros or anything like that? JA: No, ma’am. That was the people that brought them in. BM: Did you ever have any interaction with the Mexican government as a result of your position? JA: No. All I can say is that these braceros, most of them, were tremendous workers and real good people. They didn’t cause any trouble. [They] wanted to do the job and make the money that came with the job. Because it was good pay for them to come over here and get paid. BM: Maybe you could talk a little bit about why it was necessary to bring people in from Mexico to do that work. JA: In this country that was the time of labor shortages. I think the war brought it on. There had to be some agriculture work done, and there just weren’t any local people available. BM: Were there any farmers that stood out in terms of the number of braceros that they used or their treatment, whether good or bad, of their laborers? JA: As [with] any program, there were farmers who didn’t do exactly the right thing with these men. We would try to straighten that out and bring about a proper treatment of our braceros. There weren’t many cases of that, but there’s always something, somebody, that does something that isn’t just right. We had some braceros that were not good workers, and we had to straighten that out and send them back or get them to go to work. BM: On a day-to-day basis, what exactly were your responsibilities within the program? What would you do that had to do with that program? JA: Just take orders from farmers, get them to the people that had the braceros, and then help to get them out on the farm. That was about it. BM: Would that be kind of a seasonal thing? JA: A what? BM: Seasonal— JA: Yeah. It was in the cotton-picking season when we needed them the worst. BM: Toward the end of the summer, early fall, would you have a lot of orders? JA: Early fall, yeah. BM: During the wintertime, did you have any orders for braceros? JA: This picking season went on until finally all the cotton was picked. BM: When was that usually? When did that stop? JA: Usually around the first of the year. BM: During the springtime, was there any demand for braceros? JA: Yes, ma’am. Preparing the land or the crops needed some handwork or human work, to get things prepared. BM: Like weeding or something like that? JA: Yeah. BM: Was it nearly always hand labor that they were hired for? JA: That’s right. BM: Did any of them, to your knowledge, drive tractors and heavy equipment like that? JA: If the farmer needed somebody to, and they were available, they could do it. BM: I see. (clock chiming) Would you happen to remember how many braceros might be hired by farmers in the county over the course of the year? JA: You mean the total number or for each farm? BM: Either one or both. JA: I don’t remember, but there were several thousand braceros in [the county] at one time. BM: Would you say that would be at the peak of cotton harvest? JA: Yes, ma’am. There was other growing of vegetables that required a lot of hand labor, just harvesting it, keeping the land clean, getting the vegetables grown, and then harvested. BM: That was things like onions? JA: Onions, well, onions were our main crop here all right. BM: At that time for vegetables? JA: Yeah. BM: What about chile? JA: Chile? That required picking, like cotton, and it required a lot of hand labor. Chile and cotton were the big picking crops. BM: How about lettuce? JA: Lettuce had to be harvested by hand, too. So we had all of those things. BM: What about alfalfa? Did they have any— JA: Well, the only thing you can load the hay onto a truck or something like that. They could be used, but that didn’t require a great number. BM: They may have been employed within the county year-round, but for different purposes? JA: That’s right. BM: To your knowledge, did the braceros that worked at one farm return to that same place the next year? JA: If they were satisfied. In most cases, the farmers and the braceros got along good. BM: Did you have any responsibility for setting that up? JA: I would help them to get back to the same farm. If the farmer wanted the same ones, I would help him to get them. BM: How did you manage that? I mean did you have to correspond with them in Mexico or what? JA: No. They had the people that had—we had contact together. BM: That would have been with the organization that actually— JA: Yeah, that’s right. BM: Let’s see here. Did you require any proof of the bracero’s state of health? JA: As a whole, their health was very good. I mean they weren’t sickly or anything like that. There were always a few that have something or some kind of disease or something. As a whole, we didn’t have much of that. BM: Did you have any responsibility for assuring that they were fit to work or was that the other organization? JA: That was the other organization. BM: Did you have to keep track of what kind of housing the braceros were put in? JA: No, but we all wanted them to have adequate, clean housing. As a whole, that was developed over the time. There wasn’t high-class housing, but it was adequate, clean places to live. BM: By adequate, would that include running water and— JA: Running water, something to cook with, that sort of thing, and a place to sleep. BM: Did that necessarily include indoor toilets or not? JA: In most cases, there were no indoor toilets. BM: I see, okay. What was the Cooperative Extension Service’s responsibility for ensuring that that housing was adequate? JA: Well if it turned out not to be, we would work with the farmer to get him to fix it, to take care of the situation. BM: That was mostly just a matter of persuading them to do it? JA: That’s right, because in the final analysis, it could be brought out that they could lose these braceros if they didn’t do the right thing. BM: Did they have to do that at their own expense? JA: Yes. BM: Did you handle any of the work contracts for the braceros? JA: Only to furnish the forms and that sort of thing. BM: Did you do most of your work on the phone or did you go to the farms to find out how many braceros people needed? JA: Well, both ways. They would come to me, the farmers would, and request that we get them so many or I was out in the farming community, too. BM: Half of one and six dozen— JA: Yeah. BM: (laughs) I mean six of one and half a dozen of the other. Did you have any oversight of the braceros at the time their contracts were over? JA: You mean what they would do then? BM: Right. JA: They were supposed to be taken back to Mexico. BM: But that was by the other agency? JA: Yeah. BM: Did the Cooperative Extension Service have any requirements for closing out the books on a particular bracero or anything like that? JA: No, we didn’t do much of that. BM: You’re mostly kind of like a go-between? JA: That’s right. BM: In your opinion, what affect did the Bracero Program have on undocumented workers coming into the county? JA: What do you mean by undocumented? I thought they were undocumented. BM: The braceros were people who were legally sanctioned by both the U.S. government and the Mexican government. I’m talking about people— JA: The ones who came across the border on their own? BM: Right. JA: Well probably they had some places they had been working and came back. As a whole, I think the Bracero Program was what was relied on during that time. BM: Do you think that the fact that the Bracero Program was in effect reduced the number of illegals crossing? JA: Oh, yes. BM: What about relations between Doña Ana County and the Mexican government? Do you think that was pretty good during that time? JA: We didn’t have any argument that I remember, because the braceros were needed, and the braceros needed the jobs . Our job was to get them together and get them in here to work. BM: Did you have any complaints about discrimination against the braceros by any of the local farmers? JA: It wasn’t anything big. BM: If those kinds of complaints arose, then did you have some responsibility for working those out, too? JA: We would try to get together and get 'em straightened out. BM: To your knowledge, did any of the braceros end up working with crews that included people who had crossed illegally? JA: Oh, I don’t think we had a problem with that. BM: That was not a problem? JA: Unh-uh. BM: Did you ever have to arbitrate if the farmers had problems with braceros who were say, having a little bit too much fun on Saturday nights? (laughs) JA: Yeah. Once again, I would get into those things if asked or if I saw that I needed to do it to straighten out something. We did pretty good at it. Nothing, fighting or anything like that, just a matter of trying to get people to do the right thing. If the braceros wouldn’t do the right thing, they would have to go back. BM: Do you remember any specific incidents? JA: No, ma’am, but I know there were some. BM: I understand that some of the farmers may have received workers who did cross illegally. I wanted to know if there was any awareness, on your part, of such farmers, and if you had any responsibility for trying to make them legal by bringing them into the Bracero Program? JA: No, ma’am. I didn’t get mixed up in it. BM: To your knowledge, was there any labor unrest among the braceros in this county? JA: Well, there are always dissatisfied workers that want more or do less, but it wasn’t a big problem. We never had a big problem with that. BM: How about criminal behavior? JA: Well, once in a while, there were those, too. The sheriff’s department took care of most of those. BM: What affect did the Bracero Program have on the productivity of Doña Ana County farms? JA: If we hadn’t had them, there would be a lot of farms that wouldn’t have been able to harvest their crops. That would have been real bad financially for our farm people. BM: What about the ranchers? Were there any Doña Ana County ranchers that used braceros? JA: That was not a problem with us that I remember. BM: The ranchers were not requiring braceros? JA: No. The big requirement was with the cotton farmers and the vegetable farmers. BM: Could you describe for me your personal opinion of the Bracero Program as a whole? JA: I think it was a tremendous program at the time it was in effect. [It was] something that we really needed in this county and in this area. It did a great deal of good and kept many of our farmers in business by harvesting their crops. By and large, the big majority of the braceros were good workers and good people. BM: What would you say were the advantages of the program? JA: Well, they were here to work, to take care harvesting our crops, and the farmers needed them. If they hadn’t had them, I don’t know what we would have done. BM: What about disadvantages of the program? JA: I can’t think of any. It didn’t hurt anybody in this country or any of our workers that were here, the few that were here. There were no disadvantages that I know of. BM: Do you think it would be a good idea to revive the Bracero Program? JA: Only if it didn’t displace American workers. BM: It seems like there’s not a lot of Americans that want to do farm labor at this point in time anyway. JA: No. If it would help our farmers to carry on and feed the people in the United States, feed and clothe them, then it would be good to have bracero labor. BM: Do you think that there could be any benefits to the farmers in terms of enabling them to stay in business? JA: Well, you have to harvest these crops. Today, we have many mechanical ways of harvesting, but we still need hand labor in many cases. If there is a need, I think it would be a good thing to revive it in a way that wouldn’t hurt American workers. BM: Is there anything that stands out in your mind about the time that you were working with the Bracero Program that you would like to talk about? JA: No, ma’am. Well, it was just something to do. It was a program that was needed and necessary, and we did it. That was the thing that was done. BM: As I said, this questionnaire, since it was not written specifically for county agents, I think I may have done about what I can do with it. JA: Yeah. I don’t know what else we can talk about. I would still like to say that it was a good program, well carried out, and it was a real benefit to the farmers in this county. It was a benefit to the braceros, because they were able to work, make money, and go back to Mexico and have the resources to buy and do their thing. (clock chiming) BM: Do you think it had an affect on immigration? JA: It might have been some of them wanted to come over, but as a whole, they were Mexican citizens and were here to do a job. BM: The majority of them went home? JA: Yes, ma’am. BM: Do you know of any personally who decided to stay? JA: Uh-uh. BM: I guess that is all the questions I have for you, sir. JA: Well, I think it was nice that you are doing this. It was a good program and deserves to be part of the good things that happened in the past. BM: Well, thank you so much. I’m going to turn this off now. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 28:14 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Augustine_ELP002 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource John L. Augustine Subject The topic of the resource Doña Ana County Farm Bureau Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: John L. Agustine was born in El Paso, Texas, on August 29, 1914; his father worked in the mines of Lordsburg, New Mexico; he received a degree in agriculture from New Mexico State University and taught for a brief time; from there, he went on to become an assistant agent for Doña Ana County, where he served as a liaison for the bracero program. Summary of Interview: Mr. Augustine’s first working experience was teaching vocational agriculture in the Farmington Public School System; from there, he went on to become an assistant agent for Doña Ana County under Mr. Lee Gould; upon Mr. Gould’s retirement, Mr. Augustine served as county agent for about ten years; these ten years roughly coincide with the first decade of the bracero program; as an acting liaison for the bracero program, it was his job to ensure that things ran smoothly; he would report the number of necessary workers the farmers needed to the contracting agency; in addition, he intervened and settled disputes between farmers and braceros, and he also required farmers to provide adequate housing according to the program standards; he also recalls the specific harvest seasons braceros were hired and their corresponding duties; to the best of his recollection, there were never any major problems with the program; the use of the braceros provided a symbiotic relationship in which the needs of both the braceros and the farmers were met. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Morgan, Beth Augustine, John L. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-28 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. John L. Augustine creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Morgan, Beth contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/tomlin_elp050_b72fb9da0e.mp3 8ba6c287e86d5c3507f67878a011b274 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Morgan, Beth Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Tomlin, John Location The location of the interview. Las Cruces, New Mexico Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 2:07:10 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Tomlin_ELP050 description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: John Tomlin nació el 20 de abril de 1926 en Albuquerque, Nuevo México; su padre falleció de polio cuando él era pequeño, dejando a su madre sola a cargo de la finca de la familia. Más tarde, él sirvió en el Ejército, obtuvo una maestría y finalmente trabajó como agricultor. Entre 1948 y 1964 contrató braceros para que lo ayudaran a trabajar la tierra. Resumen de la Entrevista: El Sr. Tomlin recuerda cómo su madre se hizo cargo de la finca después de que su padre murió, contratando prisioneros de guerra alemanes para que la ayudaran. En 1946, una vez que él completó su misión en el Ejército, regresó al hogar y comenzó a estudiar en la Universidad del Estado de Nuevo México; al siguiente año, en 1947, empezó a dirigir la finca por sí mismo mientras estudiaba en la universidad. En 1948 empezó a contratar braceros, durante la cosecha del algodón empleaba a un equipo de treinta hombres desde mediados de septiembre hasta principios de diciembre. Tenía unos seis braceros que permanecían todo el año conduciendo tractores e irrigando; con frecuencia debía ir al Coliseo de El Paso para reclutar trabajadores, dado que los contratos de trabajo debían ser renovados periódicamente, el les ofrecía viviendas con duchas, utensilios y ropa de cama, además de equipos de trabajo, como azadones, palas y botas para irrigar. Los braceros se iban a México los días de fiesta o si tenían que cuidar familiares enfermos; no trabajaban los sábados a la tarde ni los domingos; continúa contando anécdotas de los braceros en general e historias de ciertos trabajadores en particular con quienes se había encariñado. Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. John Tomlin creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Morgan, Beth contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Morgan, Beth Tomlin, John Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-23 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: John Tomlin was born on April 20, 1926 in Albuquerque, New Mexico; his father died of polio when he was an infant, leaving his mother to run the family farm on her own; he later went on to serve in the military, receive his master’s degree, and ultimately work as a farmer; from 1948-1964, he hired braceros to help him tend the land. Summary of Interview: Mr. Tomlin recalls how his mother ran the farm after his father’s passing by using Italian and German POWs; in 1946, after finishing his tour of duty in the Army, he returned home and began attending New Mexico State University; the following year in 1947, he started running the farm on his own while he went to school; in 1948, he began hiring braceros; he used a crew of thirty men during the cotton harvest, which ran from mid September to the beginning of December; he had about six braceros who stayed on year-round driving tractors and irrigating; oftentimes, he had to go the El Paso Coliseum to hire workers because the working contracts needed to be renewed periodically; he provided housing with showers, utensils, and bedding in addition to equipment such as hoes, shovels, and boots for irrigating; the braceros often went home to México on holidays or to care for sick relatives; they did not work Saturday afternoons or on Sundays; he goes on to recount anecdotes of the braceros in general and stories of particular workers he was fond of. Language A language of the resource eng Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Farmer Title A name given to the resource John Tomlin https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/lopez_bly013_7dd28b786e.mp3 d8315e2c9340162820f4af3ef2995a21 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Murillo, Grisel Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. López, Rodolfo Location The location of the interview. Blythe, CA Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:00:22 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Lopez_BLY013 subject (Spanish) Bracero Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Rodolfo López creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Murillo, Grisel contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Murillo, Grisel López, Rodolfo Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2006-05-22 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Rodolfo López was born on November 17, 1937, in Angamacutiro, Michoacán, México; he began working in agriculture at an early age; after his military service, he joined the bracero program in 1957; he worked in California picking cotton and driving tractors; in 1960, he became a U.S. resident. Summary of Interview: Mr. López remembers his childhood growing up in Angamacutiro, Michoacán, México; he completed five years of formal schooling, and worked in agriculture at an early age; furthermore, after completing his military service, he joined the bracero program in 1957; he worked in California picking cotton and driving tractors; he describes the contracting process in Empalme, Sonora, México, the trip to the border he endured in a freight train, and the fumigation and medical exams he went through at El Centro, California, México; moreover, he recounts the names of different farms in Blythe, California, as well as how his life there was; he discusses the housing they had, the food they ate, and the daily work they did; additionally, he expresses what they were paid, and the treatment he got from foremen; he also relates what things they did for recreation, and how he kept in contact with his family; in 1960, he became a U.S. resident; he concludes by stating that he feels the bracero experience was a positive one. Language A language of the resource spa Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Title A name given to the resource Rodolfo López https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/hancock_elp025_0108500920.mp3 d42eb6ee1307327298d08b5f1e281ef6 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. description (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'description' Dublin Core field. Síntesis Biográfica del Entrevistado: Richard Hancock nació en Alpine, Texas el 19 de enero de 1926, pero creció en Nuevo México; trabajó para la Comisión de Aftosa en Jalisco, México; más adelante obtuvo un empleo en el Condado de Doña Ana como director del departamento de labores de la Oficina de Agricultura y como secretario ejecutivo; en ambos cargos en el Condado de Doña Ana trabajó directamente para el Programa Bracero. Con el tiempo continuó sus estudios y obtuvo un doctorado, para el cual escribió su tésis sobre las dinámicas culturales y económicas del Programa Bracero en Chihuahua, México. Resumen de la Entrevista: el Sr. Hancock comenzó a trabajar como director del departamento de labores de la Oficina de Agricultura del Condado de Doña Ana en mayo de 1951. Gracias a su capacidad para hablar tanto en español como en inglés, le era posible comunicarse con los hacendados, así como con los braceros y con los centros de procesamiento; él determinaba cuántos braceros se necesitaban, luego se comunicaba con Río Vista, un centro de procesamiento en Socorro, Texas para coordinar el número de trabajadores necesarios. De acuerdo a sus cálculos, había seis mil hacendados y diez mil braceros. Continuó trabajando en Río Vista hasta 1955, oportunidad en la que dejó el trabajo para continuar sus estudios universitarios en la Stanford University y obtener un doctorado. Su tésis trataba sobre las dinámicas culturales y económicas del Programa Bracero en Chihuahua, México. En 1959 se graduó y regresó al campo laboral como secretario ejecutivo del Condado de Doña Ana, donde trabajó nuevamente para el Programa Bracero; estima que trabajó aproximadamente ocho años en este programa. subject (Spanish) Condado de Doña Ana Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Navarro, Kristine Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Hancock, Richard Location The location of the interview. El Paso, Texas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. Name of interviewee: Richard Hancock Date of Interview: April 21, 2003 Name of interviewer: Kristine Navarro Today is April 21, 2003. This is Kristine Navarro interviewing Dr. Richard H. Hancock in El Paso, Texas. KN: Good afternoon, sir. How are you? RH: I’m fine. KN: Tell me a little bit about when and where you were born. RH: I was born in Alpine, Texas, on January 19, 1926. KN: Where did you grow up? RH: I grew up in Corona, New Mexico. KN: When did you start working for the Doña Ana Farm Bureau? RH: I started, I think in May of 1951. KN: Did you have any training? What brought you to this? RH: I had some training in an informal sense. I graduated from New Mexico State University in 1950, and I went to work with the Foot and Mouth Commission in Jalisco, Mexico. I grew up speaking Spanish, but a year in Mexico helped my Spanish a great deal and my cultural sensitivity [too]. My father was a rancher in Corona, New Mexico. While I was at the Foot and Mouth [Commission], he sold his ranch in Corona. He was getting old by then, and he bought a farm near Mesilla, New Mexico. I decided rather than stay on with the Foot and Mouth [Commission], that I would come home and help him farm. I had barely been home when I went to the local farm bureau where my parents belonged. We met the executive secretary there. I told him what I had been doing, and he said, “How would you like a job? We’ve got these braceros coming in, and we need a labor director who can speak Spanish and English.” I said, “Sure why not?” I worked there until the spring of 1955. I went to Stanford University and completed my doctoral program there in 1959. At that time, I learned that the executive secretary’s position was open at Doña Ana County, so I took it. I worked there from 1959 through a large part of ’61. Basically, I worked about five, seven, or eight years with the bracero program. KN: What made you decide to leave the program and go to Stanford to earn your— RH: I got interested in Spanish, and I think I was kind of burned out on the job. I found myself more interested in the braceros and talking to them than I was in doing my job. I would sign up, and during that time that I worked at New Mexico State [University] or Doña Ana County. I got a master’s degree from New Mexico State in Spanish. I finished my degree there, and I liked studying. I decided I would go off to Stanford, and I did. I met my wife there, so that was not bad. (laughs) KN: Your dissertation, can you tell me the title? RH: I hope I remember it. It was, “The bracero program in the Economic and Cultural Dynamics of Mexico: The Case of Chihuahua.” I hope I have that right. It was a case study of Chihuahua, and the history of where they went, what they did, the type of work they did, and what impact this had on different communities. In other words, I chose four different communities in Chihuahua, municipios to study. One was down in the irrigated district, on the Conchos River. Another was in the desert area, which is near Chihuahua City, Aldama. Another was in the mountain area, Guerrero, and another was Janos, Chihuahua, where they didn’t provide any braceros. I used those as a kind of a check on the rest of them. These other three were heavy providers of braceros. I went down there and talked to them, you know, the presidentes, priests, businessmen, and returned braceros. I got their ideas on what was good and what was the impact of the bracero program. I concluded that it was a valuable impact. KN: Tell me why. RH: I was talking to a man, I can’t remember where, and I told him that I was doing a study on the bracero program. He said to me, “You know, my uncle runs the post office in Gómez Farías, Chihuahua.” At that time, Chihuahua was not well communicated. You could go down the Pan-American Highway, and there was one or two fairly decent roads going off laterally. The rest of it was just terrible. We had a 1956 Chevrolet, and we would do things like drive to a place ninety miles away. It would take us eight hours to get there, just about. We tried to get into the mountains in Sierra Madre, but we never could, because there were no roads. We were going to ride the train one day. We drove up, and that train was a real tunaville trolley in those days. We drove up as far as we could go in our car. The train was in the station, so we got on and bought our ticket. It stood in the station for four hours, and they finally said, “The train has broken down, and we sent for another one. It’ll be here tomorrow.” We went back to Chihuahua City. When we finally finished, we rented an airplane to fly over the mountains so we could see them. The mountain areas of Chihuahua, and many other areas were totally inaccessible. Janos was one of those places. We went to Janos, and it was just totally inaccessible. To get to your question about why, I had this man in the mountain area of Gómez Farías. It has a road to it now, not too inaccessible, but then it was very inaccessible. He said, “My uncle tells me that there’s a lot of communist propaganda coming through his post office in Gómez Farías. The Russians are sending their magazine, América, and it’s a beautiful magazine. People come in, and they haven’t got anything to do. They want to know where their copy of América is. It would have a tremendous propaganda effect on our town except that nearly everybody has been to the United States.” (laughs) “They just read it, because it’s a nice, pretty, and colorful magazine. They have all been to the United States, so they know pretty much what it is.” These people made some money coming. Really, it goes for the wetback system, too. It’s a big safety valve for Mexico. It was then, and it is now. Some people want to keep the Mexicans in Mexico. We can’t, because we don’t want a revolution down there, and we don’t want unrest. We should have a legal program to allow Mexicans to work in the United States and have the safeguards of a minimum wage, at least, insurance, and period of contract guaranteed work. The bracero program had all of those things. I just can’t [understand], particularly religious people that oppose the bracero program. I don’t see how they feel like the wetback program is better. It was not a program. I think it [bracero program] was very necessary to Mexico, because people had a way out. If they were hard up, broke, and hungry, they could come to the United States to get a fairly decent job. [They could] send some money home and keep the country from blowing up. They also learned new technologies. Obviously, braceros were kind of misused in a way. That was one reason they opposed it. The farmer would get a bracero that was reliable, and most of them in comparison to the local people, were extremely good workers. They could stay eighteen months, but then they would get recontracted and stay another eighteen months. Pretty soon, they were driving tractors and bulldozers. They were doing various skilled things and were probably being underpaid for that. To them, it was a good job, so they didn’t complain. They learned how to farm in a modern, high tech fashion, and they brought some money home. I knew of hundreds of cases where they went home, and they would take tombs, used clothing, and all this kind of stuff with them. They benefited from it and kept returning year after year. Some of the force became legalized. Even though they became legalized, some of them went back, because they had made a way for themselves. They had a little capital. I don’t see anything bad about it. My father ran his farm, and he had a man by the name of Manuel. I don’t remember his last name. I wish I did. He came in, and he ran this farm. I was working for the farm bureau, and he [my father] said, “I want to legalize Manuel.” I said, “Dad, why are you doing this? You don’t need any workers. You’re running your farm.” “No,” he said, “Manuel wants me to legalize him, so I’m going to do it.” I said, “Well, okay.” We got him legalized, and my father died. (gets choked up) Manuel and his family were very good to my mother. [My brothers and I] worked all over the United States, but we came during my father’s illness. I was working in Oklahoma. One brother was working in California, and the other brother in New York. Manuel [and his family] filled in for us. They would come by and mow my mother’s yard every week. They would invite her out to go to some gathering in Juárez. They were a great help to her. I figured that was cash bred upon the border. Those were awfully good people, those Mexicans. I remember we had a big farmer there, Stahmanns Farms. I used to go with him to give programs to farm bureau locals. He had one hundred and fifty braceros, and he legalized them all. He told me, “I don’t understand it. The parents, those women and men, were the best people in the world when I legalized them. Their children aren’t worth a damn. Why is that? I blame the schools.” I personally think that you came into a different world. The kids went to school, and they came home and said, “Dad, you know, this and that happened.” The dad gave them answers like, “Pray to the Blessed Virgin,” or something, particularly the mothers. This wasn’t relevant to them. They took their advice from their peers, and that’s the worst advice they could get. (laughs) KN: For the record, can I ask you both your parents’ full names please? RH: My father was Henry Lee Hancock. My mother was Mary Gillette Hancock. She was born in Marfa, Texas, and he was born in Alpine, Texas. They spoke Spanish, being down there on the border. In Corona, New Mexico, most of our workers were Mexicans. We had a family, a man and wife. The wife worked in the house, and the man on the farm, or on the ranch. Our language, both out on the job and in the house, was pretty much Spanish. That’s where I got my Spanish. It’s been a real blessing to me. [It] wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been an accident of birth. I wouldn’t be in Chihuahua doing these things for the governor if I couldn’t speak Spanish. KN: Definitely. Can you describe your role as the labor director and also as the executive secretary for the— RH: As the labor director, I [communicated] with the farmers, [as far as how many workers they wanted]. I would schedule, with Rio Vista, the appropriate numbers that we were going to get. We would bring them in. We had kind of a bullpen there at the Doña Ana County Farm Bureau. KN: Where was that located? RH: That was located on the railroad there. I can’t remember the address, but it was located in a commercial area in Las Cruces. [It was] kind of the warehouse area, along the farm bureau. You all interviewed Bobby Jack Porter, and he can tell you exactly where that was. I don’t know if that’s there anymore, but— KN: Okay, and as executive secretary— RH: I would take the orders from the farmers and dish out the braceros to the farmers. We were not a big farm operation. I suppose the average farmer in Doña Ana County probably didn’t have over two workers during the year. [They] maybe had ten or twelve [during] harvest time. There was quite a personal relationship with the workers, because they weren’t big farmers. [It] irritated me that anti-bracero people said that this program was to help corporate farmers. We didn’t have any corporate farmers. I suspect that there were not a lot anywhere in the United States. I still don’t think there are re a lot, because they’re big family farms. We would get them [braceros] and dish them out to the farmers. For the most part, we didn’t have a lot of trouble. The most [we had was] say six hundred farmers and ten thousand workers. Another fellow and I worked this job. His name was Epefino Apodaca, but he’s dead now. He would go out north, and I would go out south. Vice versa, we would settle strikes. We would call into the office, and they would say, “Go down to Chamberino. They got another one there.” I would go down there, talk, and find out what the problem was. KN: What was the main problem for the cause of the strikes? RH: Disagreements, mostly during the picking season and [about] the farm. The first picking, I think our wage was $2.05. Then the second picking, the picking was usual poorer, so you pay them less or you pay them more. Usually, the bracero would say, “This picking has gotten bad.” The farmer would say, “That’s good cotton.” They would come to an agreement. The farmer didn’t want to lose his men, and the braceros didn’t want to lose their job. We had to guarantee, I’m not sure how many hours, but [something] like, every two weeks, which is a normal workweek, eighty hours. You had to guarantee sixty hours in a two-week period, and if you fell below that, you had to pay the Mexicans a dollar and a half a day, what they call subsistence. That was a major complaint. The farmer would never bring these complaints until they brought them [braceros] in at the end of the year. You would ask them, you were required to do that. You had to ask every man, “Do you have any complaints? We want to hear it.” They would say, “Yo tuve muchos días deoquis.” [They] didn’t have any work. So, you would say, “How many?” “Twenty.” That meant the farmers had to pay them $30.00, which was more then than it is now. That’s unpleasant to the farmer, but we did that kind of thing and all kinds of things. We had a farmer, I won’t mention his name, but his foreman struck a worker. We went out there to see what that problem was. The Labor Department came down, the guys from Denver, and they had a pretty good session with the farmer. They were all love and kisses. The local Labor Department man kept whispering to me, “Get them to settle.” They just seemed so much in accord, I thought, but he kept saying to me, “Get them to settle.” I didn’t, and I learned a lesson there. The farmer left, and the Labor Department man said, “Mr. So and So seems like a nice fellow. If he would just pay this bracero one hundred dollars, well, we would just call it even.” I thought, Well, what’s wrong with that? This man is wealthy. What’s one hundred dollars to him? So, I said, “Okay.” The guy [bracero] was going home, and the farm bureau paid him one hundred dollars. We billed the farmer, and he just raised holy hell. You had to be on the mortar there, and he left us and went to the Southwest Cotton Growers. He just told everybody. [It was] like he hired a loudspeaker and told everybody what a bunch of bastards we were. I haven’t forgiven him yet, because we thought we were working in his best interest. The big farmers had these coffee meetings, and he just told them, “The farm bureau will sell you out at the first chance. They’re not supporting the farmers. They’re in league with these government bureaucrats.” That’s just one of those irritating things that happened. You go out there, and you try to find out what’s happening. A farmer called me. He was a nice fellow, and he said, “My workers want to go home, and I don’t know why. I can’t believe they want to go home.” I went out there, and I said to them, “What’s this? You fellows want to go home?” They said, “We got to get our corn in.” I think they were from Durango, maybe from the Laguna down there. Those were the big good cotton pickers. They said, “We’ve got to go home.” I smoked cigars in those days, and I pulled out my cigar, put it in my mouth, and began to feel for matches. There was a hard looking old boy, and he said, “Light the señor.” Like that, you know, a sharp command. I told the farmer, “I think I figured out your problem. Send that guy off to do something.” He sent him off to the other side of the field to get a tractor or something. I said, “Boys, that man is your problem, isn’t he?” They said, “Oh, yes. He comes in drunk at two o’clock in the morning. He makes us get up and cook eggs for him.” He was a real bully. The Mexicans at that time couldn’t move as a group to take care of a guy like that. The farmer said, “When he comes back, let’s just jump him. We’ll beat the hell out of him.” The Mexicans said, “That’s all right for you, but we live in his town. He’s killed six men. It’s just better for us to go home. You know, we have to do it. You’re a patrón, but it’s just too risky for us. We just have to.” The guy comes back, and I said, “Hey, get your stuff.” He said, “What’s the matter, patrón?” I said, “Hell, I don’t give you answers. Come with me. I’m changing you.” I put him with one Mexican farmer, far north. One farmer, he had the bully there, but he could get along one on one. The other [farmer], his men stayed the whole period and picked his cotton. Everybody went home happy. There was no way—he was a killer, and we had some of those guys. I like northern Mexicans, because the southern Mexicans were very herd minded. [It was] difficult for them to perform as individuals. Anthropologists will say, “That’s what we like about southern Mexicans. They have community spirit.” I’m sure that’s true. (laughs) You get some of those southern Mexicans, and they would come in a group of say, thirty or forty. We didn’t get very many of them, because we liked to have Chihuahuans, which are basically quite a lot like Americans. If they got one man to do something, they all do it. They don’t have to have some companions go with them. For many of the southern Mexicans, one young radical kind of guy would do all the talking. You would have guys [that were] fifty years old, and you would ask them, “What is your complaint?” They said, “Lo que dice mi compañero.” With those guys, you’re always dealing with the leader. With the northern Mexicans, you were dealing with individuals. Some people would say, “Sure, you like people who don’t organize so you can exploit them better.” I remember one time that we went to a farm way up north. (coughs) There was a farmer who had two Mexicans there. One of them was from the south, and one of them was from Durango or Chihuahua. We had a complaint. This guy came to the office and said, “He employed me, and he hasn’t given me any work.” This was [during] the wintertime. These guys, a lot of the time, begged the farmers to renew their contract. The farmer said, “We don’t have any work in the winter. If you really want to, I guess I can employ you and give you whatever work I can.” He [bracero] had this subsistence payment. If you had a guy for a month or two, I think in his case six months, then you probably had not given him six weeks of work in that time. You had to pay him $1.50 a day for all the days he was assured [work]. This guy came in and told us about that. We went up there. He was a Hispanic farmer. We told him, “These guys from the south, they can live on about $12.00 per week. The northern Mexicans, probably twenty or twenty-five dollars.” We went up there and told this guy, “You owe this guy some subsistence.” He said, “Yes. He asked me to contract him, but I guess I’ll just have to pay him.” He paid him, and I asked the other bracero, “Do you have any complaints?” He said, “No, and if I had any, I wouldn’t have to go to your office to settle.” (both laugh) KN: That’s the difference. RH: We went down, and we had this southern boy with us. We said, “Your friend, has he been getting more work than you?” He said, “No.” I said, “He seems to be doing all right.” He said, “He’s a guy that’s killed some people in our country. The farmer is afraid to mistreat him.” (laughs) KN: That’ll do it. Were the workers or the farmers afraid to come to you or ask for your assistance? RH: No. I don’t think so, because we tried to be honest about this. Our farm bureau board wanted us to abide by the contract. They would be tougher on violators than we would. We had to work with these people. If the board had to deal with them, they would just be tougher on them, because they were basically men of rules. They thought, this guy is not obeying the rules, and to heck with him. I had another incident that I got a good deal of satisfaction out of. I had a farmer, and I didn’t know anything about his personal business. He had a Mexican foreman who was an ex-army sergeant, and he was a real tough guy. He was a tough nut. If the workers complained or anything, he would invite them to settle it with their fists. He was tough. He always was. He had a pretty good bunch of workers. We would give him workers, and some of them would come in and want to be transferred. They were contracted to the farm bureau not to the individual. We could transfer them, but we didn’t. We didn’t really want to encourage that very much. This guy, his name was Jim, he was always getting on us, “You can’t transfer my men. You’re just making it easy for these people to give us trouble. They’ll be transferring all over the valley. You guys got to stand up for us.” I went out and got some of his men that came in wanting to transfer. I went out to Jim’s farm, and there he was. There was an older man with him. He had a very southern accent, like a Kentucky colonel. I said, “Jim, we got the same problem as we’ve had. Some of your men want to transfer.” Jim didn’t say anything, and this Kentucky colonel said, “Why, these boys don’t want to work for us? Of course we’ll transfer them.” That was the end of the trouble. That man was his financier. (laughs) We never have had any more trouble with him. That was kind of gratifying. KN: Did you handle only in the Doña Ana area? How many farms would you estimate? RH: I think we had about six hundred farms. We were very preferred. We would go to Rio Vista, and we would say we wanted three hundred men. We would get one thousand in one go. They much preferred us to go into Texas. KN: Why? RH: I hate to say this, but I think Texans were more racist then. New Mexico was half Hispanic, and half our farmers were Hispanic. The Texas farms were bigger, and they didn’t like to go to big farms. They had to wait in line to weigh their cotton and wait in line to eat. There were loud noises, and some people were gambling and fighting. They just preferred to have a smaller [farm]. Our area was an area of small farms. KN: You said one thousand men would want to go. How would you determine who would go and who would stay? RH: They all had cards from the farm bureau. Our farmers would tell us, “Look out for so and so.” The guys showed us the card. “He worked last year for John Doe in Doña Ana County.” They only gave these cards to those that completed their contract. You really didn’t interview them much. They would approach you, and say, “I want to go and work for John Doe.” Then you would get them. Even if John Doe couldn’t take them, you figured they were pretty good workers. By and large, we didn’t have very much trouble. They wanted to work, and the farmers needed the work. We got along pretty well. We even got along pretty well with the Mexican consul. We would occasionally be called on the carpet by the Mexican consul. They had a guy there, an old revolutionary man by the name of Colonel Michelle. They said he could speak English better than we could, but he always spoke Spanish. It gave him some advantage, I think. We got along very well with him, and he had younger men working for him. We really became good friends with them. We had the Labor Department men there, too. We, by and large, got along well with them, too. We all wanted to see the program work, and it did. KN: Can you tell me, on average, how many braceros you think you processed on a daily basis? RH: We tried to keep it down. Sometimes though, when the cotton is ready to pick, farmers want it yesterday. They want the workers yesterday. We would sometimes run five or six hundred a day. We tried two to three hundred in there. I’ll tell you another story that’s kind of interesting. We had a bunkhouse, because sometimes we had leftovers. They would get in about eleven o’clock at night. You don’t want to work all night, so we had a fellow that would bring them sandwiches on request. We called this guy, and he would bring them some sandwiches for supper. We would put them in the bunkhouse. As I recall, we had seven beds. One night, we had seven braceros, and I told them, “We’re all done for the day. You guys go in the bunkhouse, find your beds, and go to bed. We’ll get farmers for you tomorrow.” I was doing some paperwork, and it was about 11:30 PM. I was closing up and I thought, “Maybe I’ll just go out to see if the braceros got accommodated all right.” I went out there and turned on the light. It was cold, because it was getting along in the fall. There was frost every night. We didn’t have any heat in that room, but we had GI comforters for everybody. That’s pretty good cover. Much to my surprise, I found some of the more aggressive men had two GI comforters, and some of the old, passive types were sleeping under newspapers and cardboard boxes. I got them all sorted out again. I thought it was interesting that those people were unknown to each other. When they are a community, they will [get to know each other], but nobody came from the same village. There seemed to be no thought given to [the fact that] we’ve got seven comforters, and each one always gets one. The big husky ones got two comforters, and the others didn’t have any. (laughs) KN: Can you describe the process of how the farmer would call you? Can you describe how that would happen? How would you transport them [braceros] up to the areas? RH: We transported them from Rio Vista to our center there at the farm bureau. The farmers would come in and get them. You had the bracero, and he had a card. He wanted to go and work with his old patrón. You would call, and the old patrón would say, “I’ve already got my men. He’s a good man, but I can’t take him.” Then the bracero would be very crestfallen. You would tell him, “We’ve got another job,” but [he was] still [disappointed]. The Mexican worker, then and now, really values the personal relationship. Other times, we would call at ten o’clock at night, and we would say, “We’ve got a man by the name of Juan González here, and he’s coming from seventy miles away.” “Oh,” he [would say], “Juan is back. Yeah, I’ll be there.” He comes with the whole family, his wife and kids. It’s a real reunion. The kids jump on Juan and, that was one of the most gratifying things about the job. That was a close relationship with these people. These were usually small farmers, and they didn’t have a foreman. They valued these people. I always remember the Hispanic farmers got along better with their workers than the Americans did. I’ve had Americans saying, “I don’t know how Joe Apodaca gets along so well with his people. Why can’t I do that?” I said, “You don’t speak Spanish, and you don’t understand them like he does.” I’ve seen Joe Apodaca bring in thirty men to go home. They would get on the bus, and he would embrace each one. You can’t beat that. He was the patrón that those men expected. He valued them. He was the patrón. If they had a sickness or some kind of problem, he would do something for them. Other Anglo farmers, some of them were good too, but they didn’t embrace their workers when they left. They just kind of [said], “See you, Joe.” To me, the bracero program was a friendship program as well as an economic program. I didn’t ever feel guilty about working with the bracero program. KN: What cultural reason could you give for the bond of a bracero that would come over and be loyal to a certain patrón, or vice versa? RH: I was a Peace Corp director in El Salvador for two years, so I’m not limited to Mexico. We had maids in El Salvador, and they would talk about how they worked for someone. They said, “You know, that woman wouldn’t say good morning to us.” The woman probably had no bad intention. She was a foreign woman, and she just didn’t know or didn’t worry about it too much. Those people want to be spoken to and valued as human beings. You say a lot of things about Mexico, but Mexico is a humane society. In a way, we think dollars are the way that people like us, but Mexicans are humane. [They] don’t ever lose [their] humanity. You may be a prisoner in the jail, but they, the Mexicans, still treat you as a human being. I never quite understood why. [At the] University of Oklahoma, we had a center down in Colima, Mexico. They had a prison there. We took people down there, and in the summer we had students studying Spanish. We used to play basketball against the prison team. Of course, they used to beat us, because they had nothing else to do but practice. One time, I took a major from the Oklahoma Highway Patrol. He was helping them with police work. We visited the prison, and there was a young social worker, about your age, that accompanied us. We walked right out in the yard with all the prisoners and didn’t feel any insecurity. This man commented, “You wouldn’t dare take a young woman into the McAlester [State] Prison in Oklahoma. They would just hoot and holler, insult her, and make sexual remarks. You couldn’t do that.” I said, “Why do you think that is?” Angel, our boss down there on the hacienda, said, “Prisoners don’t get sore like they do in the United States. They treat them humanely.” It’s not a matter of having good plumbing and all that. It’s [about] treating them like they’re people. They have a thing that we wouldn’t ever do. They allow wives and girlfriends to spend the night with prisoners. They have a special section there that they set aside for that. The average American would say, “Oh, this is horrible. It’s very primitive.” They just do things in a [different way]. When we were walking in there with the warden, no guards were with him. He just walked in there. We were going to walk somewhere, and prisoners were constantly talking to him. He was a young man. He walked a few steps, and another prisoner would grab him and say, “I’ve got this and that.” The Oklahoma State Highway Patrol major said, “This man has good communication with his prisoners.” It’s interesting. Today, people that are trustees in the jail, people that they know won’t escape, they’ll let them sit in the park. That’s a very small prison. The highway patrolman said, “That’s another thing. The stateside prisons are very big. They have two to three thousand inmates.” That’s a tough deal. KN: When the bracero completed his contract with the farmer, you said they were contracted to the farm bureau, not the individual farmer. RH: That’s right. KN: Tell me about the return process. Did they have to go through your center? RH: The return process, well, we would just take them when the farmer was done. He would bring his people in, and we would make sure that everything was settled out according to the contract. We would take them back to Rio Vista. I think they took them back to Chihuahua. I think they had three centers in the [Mexican] states, most of the time. One of them was in Monterrey, [another] in Chihuahua, and one in Hermosillo, Sonora. They had one in Irapuato, [too]. We took a bunch of old men down there to get renewed, and that was quite an experience. KN: Tell me about it. RH: Texans are always ahead of the rest of us. (laughs) They had made a deal, and I don’t know what they paid. I suspect they paid to get some of their old men renewed. These people [worked for] eighteen months. They called them keymen, and they said, “We need to have a way where we can keep these men.” This guy from Texas, [from the] El Paso Cotton Growers I believe it was, said, “We made a deal to renew our men in Irapuato. Do you want to go in with us?” I said, “We got about two hundred. We would like to do that.” We went down there to Irapuato. In the first place, that’s a much lower standard of living than in northern Mexico. All of our workers were well dressed. [They] had good Stetson cowboy boots. We were not appreciated there. They looked at us [like] we were stealing places that ought to be given to them. In the papers, they were talking about how tough the managers at the center were. It was not a real good environment. In order to become a bracero, you had to have a military card. In other words, you had to have a draft card. We got down there with our two hundred men, and I suppose twenty of them didn’t have draft cards. I was talking to the lieutenant there, in the Army. They were the ones that saw to all that. I said, “What’s to be done here? I’ve sent these men. They say they served their military service, which may or may not be true.” He said, “They have to go back to their respective municipios and get a draft card.” I told these men. I even telegraphed their presidencias, because they were from everywhere. I asked them to please expedite these people and get their draft cards. We got what we could. We left those that didn’t have their draft cards. We had two young guys from Jalisco. There are a lot of blonde people in Jalisco, and they were readily recognizable. We went by bus. [When] we got to Juárez, we were crossing the border, getting to the immigration, and these two young guys showed up. I went to see the general about getting those cartillas militares, and the general made quite a speech. He said, “You have to be responsible.” [Then] he said to me, “I bet you got your draft card in your pocket. Is that correct?” I said, “Yeah, that’s correct.” He said, “All we’re asking is that these men be responsible.” Then he said to our braceros [that] were all gathered there, “You men, remember what you’ve got in your pockets, and money is what you’re worth. Take advantage of your stay in the United States.” He made quite an eloquent speech, I thought. You can’t fight that. He’s got the right idea. These two guys came up, and they had their military [cards]. They were all fixed up with their Army. I said, “How did you get to Jalisco so quick and get back?” He said, “You know that lieutenant that you were talking to?” I said, “Yeah.” He said, “I had a blank one of those micas, [that] the card fits in. I put one hundred pesos in it. I went to him and said, ‘Mi teniente, tenemos nuestra carta military,’ and handed it to him. He looked at it and said, ‘Oh, muy bien’”. (laughs) That was kind of funny. KN: That’s where he got it. Did you have any problems with braceros disappearing from the farms or leaving? RH: Yeah, they called them abscondees(??). We had some, but it wasn’t a huge problem. Usually, as an accommodation to our membership, when that happened, we would replace them. We would mark them, you see. They paid for, let’s say, three months of insurance. We would just mark that off and apply that to another man. We wouldn’t charge them another fee for it. It wasn’t a huge problem. To the immigration and the Labor Department, I’m sure it was probably something that they worried about a little, but we didn’t worry about it too much. KN: We’re just doing some final reflections now. What is your personal opinion of the bracero program? RH: As I said, I thought it was a program in human relations. I thought, by and large, at least in New Mexico, we had gratification on both sides. It was also a successful economic program. [It was] certainly a lot better than the wetback program. I can tell you a story about wetbacks in Norman, Oklahoma. This has been oh, fifteen years ago. They had been having a problem. For some reason, the Norman police had gotten into capturing wetbacks. I never did understand why they did that, because most police didn’t want to get involved in that. We had some wealthy people that played polo. [They] needed one thing that Mexico has, [which is] a great number of people that know how to work with horses. They had this one fellow. He had four or five workers for his polo [fields], and he played polo. He was a wealthy man. He owned the Cadillac agency in Norman. A reporter came to me and said, “I want to talk to these wetbacks. I would like you to interpret.” We got down there and [started] talking nice to them, [asking them] how they did and everything. They didn’t have any complaints, except [that] they didn’t want to go home. The reporter said, “Do you have any complaints?” They said, “No. The only thing that’s worrying us now is that they owe us seven hundred dollars. We called in the foreman, and he was a Mexican. He said he wouldn’t answer our call. We are worried we’re going to lose our money if we get sent home.” I asked the jailor, “Immigration will collect their money won’t they?” I think there were three of them. He said, “Oh, no, they’ll just send a driver with a van. They’ll pick these guys up and take them home. They aren’t going to do anything.” We walked out of the jail, and the sheriff was there. He had nothing do with the Norman police. He was the sheriff of the county. I knew the sheriff, and I said, “Sheriff, we need to collect the money of these boys.” Here he was. Was he going to go up against a powerful, rich man and collect money? He just reared back in his chair. He talked like a real redneck, and he said to one of his deputies, “J.T., you doing anything?” The deputy said, “No, sheriff.” He said, “Take Hancock out there and collect these boys’ money.” I went out with the big deputy. I wasn’t going out to a farmer on my own initiative to tell him that he had to pay his people. I went out there with the deputy, and we came to the farm. The man’s wife was there. She said to the bracero with us, “Oh, hello Shorty.” She said to me, “Why are they taking these men? We need these men. There ought to be a way we could keep them.” I said, “He says you all owe him some money.” She said, “I don’t know anything about that, but I’ll call my husband.” She called him, and he was up there at his Cadillac agency. Then she said, “They say that we owe Shorty and whoever seven hundred dollars.” The guy said, “Pay him seven hundred dollars and add fifty dollars to it.” That Mexican foreman would have kept their money if the sheriff hadn’t [helped]. I always esteemed that sheriff. KN: What do you think ended the program? RH: I think if you look at this program, The Harvest of Shame, it’s on video somewhere, CBS [has it], then you know that there were people that were opposed to it. I can never figure out why the Catholic Church was opposed to it. The archbishop of San Antonio was one of the big guys that talked against it. I figured the braceros were Catholics. Why you should be opposed to it, I can’t understand. My wife has a brother. He’s been a career ranch administrator in southern Arizona. They have a ranch twenty-five miles from the Mexican border. He says that they’re just inundated with wetbacks. It used to be one or two of them would come through, and they knew where they were going. Their patrón was expecting them. He said, “I even get sixty. All those people are carrying pistols down there. They all have side arms. They don’t leave the house without them.” It’s one thing to talk to one or two guys, but it’s another thing to talk to fifty. They’re all kind of in a state of war down there. Immigration controlled wetbacks. I forget when it was. It might have been in the late 1950s or early 1960s, but they totally controlled the wetbacks. They had a legal alternative. I realize it’s more complicated now, because it’s a bigger body of people. I think at the maximum the wetback program was close to five hundred thousand. Now what do they say? We’ve got eight million. The year the bracero program was working well, they controlled the wetbacks. It was primarily farmers that were using wetbacks, but now everybody’s using them. They told the farmer, “You can get legal workers at your local farm association. If you don’t do that, we’ll put you out of business.” They meant it. They controlled it. There was a year or two, right toward the end of the bracero program, where they didn’t have very many wetbacks. Certainly farmers didn’t use them because, if you said, “Heck, I’m not going to go along without that,” they would station an immigration officer on your farm. You couldn’t get anybody to work. If they caught you with wetbacks, they didn’t blacklist you. They would just say, “You’ve got to go to the farm bureau and get workers.” I still say, if you have a legal program, the workers and the employers would rather have [that]. Why we [continue to] go on with this wetback program is more than I can fathom. I really can’t understand it. I thought Bush was going to do something about it, but then 9/11 came along (unintelligible). [This guy] drove us to this hotel, and we asked him, “How is it to go to Juarez now? Is it tough?” He said, “During this Iraq thing, it’ll take you two or three hours to get down there [Juarez].” (laughs) If I was king of the world, I would get immigration to advertise throughout the land, “Come to the immigration office on such and such street. Register your workers, and there will be a legal contract. Wages will be specified.” In other words, start a hiring hall for legal workers. The State Department and Department of Labor would run it. It would be a pretty big job. [Some] people say, “We don’t want to give those people green cards or citizenship.” You don’t have to. Give them a contract and make it tough on the employers that don’t go along with it. I think it could still be done, but I’m not sure it will be done. [Vicente] Fox is working toward that. He’s giving the guys credentials. I say, let’s give them credentials or contracts. If they’re supposed to get a certain wage and be insured, then there will be labor guarantees. [We should] reinstate the old bracero program, for everybody, not just for farmers. Restaurants could get them, too. In Oklahoma City, they told me, “If we were to pick up all the wetbacks, we would close all the restaurants in Oklahoma City.” I’m sure that’s true everywhere. KN: Thank you very much, Dr. Hancock. RH: You bet. End of interview Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 1:13:40 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Hancock_ELP025 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Richard Hancock Subject The topic of the resource Doña Ana County Farm Bureau Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Richard Hancock was born in Alpine, Texas, on January 19, 1926, but he grew up in New Mexico; he worked with the Foot and Mouth Commission in Jalisco, México; later, he was employed by Doña Ana County as a labor director for the Farm Bureau and as an executive secretary; in both positions with Doña Ana County, he worked directly with the bracero program; he eventually went on to receive his doctoral degree and wrote his dissertation on the cultural and economic dynamics of the bracero program in Chihuahua, México. Summary of Interview: Mr. Hancock began working as a labor director for the Farm Bureau in Doña Ana County in May of 1951; because of his ability to speak both Spanish and English, he would communicate with the farmers, braceros, and processing centers; he would determine how many braceros were needed, then contact Rio Vista, a processing center in Socorro, Texas, to schedule the needed number of workers; according to his estimates, there were 600 farmers and 10,000 braceros; he continued working at Rio Vista until 1955, at which point he left to go to Stanford University and complete his doctoral degree; his dissertation dealt with the cultural and economic dynamics of the bracero program in Chihuahua, México; in 1959, he graduated and then returned to work as an executive secretary for Doña Ana County, where he again worked with the bracero program; he estimates that he worked for a total of about eight years with the program. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Navarro, Kristine Hancock, Richard Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2003-04-21 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Language A language of the resource eng Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. No Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Richard Hancock creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Navarro, Kristine contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. RE: the Bracero History Archive: I am Refugio I. Rochin, Professor Emeritus of UC Davis and Santa Cruz and native of San Diego County. I was born in May 1941 and worked with my father who was under contract to provide Bracero Labor camps with food and related provisions from 1941 through 1964, the year the program ended. I believe that little has been written about the relationships developed between Bracero hosting corporations and U.S. service providers, especially Hispanics (Mexican-Americans) in business. I am writing to make sure that the Bracero story is told in terms of its spin-offs, corporate ties and the impact of Bracero contracts in San Diego county. For example, Sunkist and avocado growers (also called associations) developed camps and facilities for Bracero workers in San Diego county to live in during the time they harvested and processed vegetables, avocados, oranges and lemons. The camps they developed would hold (by my recollection) 25 to 300 workers each. Relatively large camps were located in Fallbrook, Vista and Escondido California. Each camp was built of wood and appeared to be modeled like US military barracks. The workers (all men) slept in bunk-beds, closely lined with boxes for each for personal items. Workers used open showers and did their laundry - much like soldiers of their day. Workers ate together in "mess-halls." They used metal trays for food and regular glasses for drinks. The quality of food varied by camp, cooks and staples provided by the companies. Camps that specialized in "Mexican food" kept their workers content. Camps that did not serve Mexican food experienced some protests and worker flight. I know this from personal experience. My father was one of the first contractors in San Diego county who worked successfully for Sunkist growers, serving Mexican food with fresh tortillas, lots of beans and rice and meat. The camps served by my father often had workers from other camps seeking "sanctuary" at the Sunkist camps. My father developed a wholesale business called C&R Provisions in Oceanside. He learned from personal experience as an immigrant farmworker (beginning at 15 years of age) the importance of home cooking and service. The 'C' in C&R stood for Castorena (Manuel) and the 'R' for Rochin (Refugio). Manuel Castorena (Spanish origin) was my fathers friend and our neighbor. He became the first mayor of Carlsbad California - also the founder of Carlsbad's acclaimed school for gems. Refugio Rochin (my father - born in Sinaloa Mexico in 1908) was a wholesaler of Mexican produce and owner of Mexican grocery stores and restaurants. Through the restaurants he befriended (mostly through the Rotary Club) some of Sunkist's executives. One, in particular, Roy Workman, who was married to a Mexican, was responsible for contract workers. Roy liked my dad and handled my dad's special contracts with Sunkist. Together, C&R and Sunkist developed contracts to feed workers at Sunkist labor camps. C&R Provisions also picked up several other farm labor camps in San Diego county. The business relationship led to C&R becoming a successful operation, supplying Mexican food and related supplies (e.g corn husks for tamales, spices, tortilla presses) in the region. I can relate more since I started working with my father in C&R from the time I was 10 years old. I was born in May 1941. When I was 16 - 1957 - I had my own delivery route and went to camps in Fallbrook, Vista, San Marcos and Escondido. I also delivered to my father's close friend - actor Leo Carrillo. He purchased my fathers' specially aged prime rib and Mexican food for his parties and friends - some I met were old time movie stars, Conrad Hilton, and corporate executives. At the time, Leo was always in the Rose Parade and rode his beautiful gold stallions, all dressed with silver saddle, etc. For verification, contact: Gerry Streff. Visit: www.carrillo-ranch.org Leo Carrillo was referred to as Mr Republican. My father was a Republican and my mother a Democrat - mostly because of social ties, not because of political agendas. The Julian Samora Research Institute at Michigan State University published booklet that my mother wrote, covering aspects of the Rochin business and bracero program. It lends credence to my account above. It also shows the affect of my father's work and friends in her life. She provides another perspective of the Mexican business community, beginning with her birth in 1913 in Colton California. http://jsri.msu.edu/RandS/books/juanita/index.shtml Let me know if you have questions or interest in other Bracero related work. I can relate, for example, how la migra (US border patrol) raided our restaurant and harassed our Mexican workers - legal or not. This story continues today. Refugio Refugio I. Rochin, PhD Professor & Research Director, Emeritus, UC Davis and UC Santa Cruz Founding Director, Smithsonian Center for Latino Initiatives rrochin at ucdavis.edu http://works.bepress.com/refugio_rochin/ Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Hispanic Business and Bracero Workers Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Refugio Rochin Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Refugio Rochin Contribution Form The set of elements containing metadata from the Contribution form. Online Submission Indicates whether or not this Item has been contributed from a front-end contribution form. Yes Posting Consent Indicates whether or not the contributor of this Item has given permission to post this to the archive. (Yes/No) Yes Submission Consent Indicates whether or not the contributor of this Item has given permission to submit this to the archive. (Yes/No) Yes Contributor is Creator Indicates whether or not the contributor of the Item is responsible for its creation. Yes braceros in san diego county contract food provisions Hispanic business https://braceroarchive.org/files/original/marin_bly003_8da9ca39b3.mp3 fc1e27fd2ef154657d9d01da35b46af6 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Shreibati, Annette Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Marín, Luis C. Location The location of the interview. Blythe, CA Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Mini Disc Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 42:45 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 24 bit 96 k File Name Identifier The identifier for the sound file. Marin_BLY003 subject (Spanish) Bracero Additional Item Metadata The additional item metadata element set, consisting of all item elements created by an administrator and not assigned to an item type, and item elements created by plugins and not assigned to an item type or other element set. Additionally, the metadata element set that, in addition to the Dublin Core element set, was included in the `items` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all Omeka items. title (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'title' Dublin Core field. Luis C. Marín creator (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'creator' Dublin Core field. Shreibati, Annette contributor (Spanish) Spanish version of the 'contributor' Dublin Core field. Cristóbal A. Borges Rights Holder Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Cristóbal Borges Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Shreibati, Annette Marín, Luis C. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2006-05-22 Description An account of the resource Biographical Synopsis of Interviewee: Luís Marín was born on August 25, 1918, in Rivas Palacios, Chihuahua, México; he had five siblings, two sisters and two brothers; his parents worked in agriculture; he became a bracero in 1942 and worked in New Mexico picking cotton, driving tractors and irrigating. Summary of Interview: Mr. Marín states that he was contracted in Chihuahua, Chihuahua, México, and he entered the United States through El Paso, Texas: he recalls the process he went through in El Paso, and how he was medically examined; additionally, he remembers that most braceros did not want to work in Texas due to the harsh treatment they received; he describes being at Rio Vista processing center; moreover, he recounts that he worked as a bracero until 1955 with only one farmer in New Mexico; he relates what his family life was like as a bracero, and how his children were born in Anthony, New Mexico and Canutillo, Texas; furthermore, he describes his life after being a bracero, how he became a resident, and how he later moved to Blythe, California. Language A language of the resource spa Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso Subject The topic of the resource Bracero Title A name given to the resource Luis C. Marín