Minerva Christine Ann Cheatum
Title
Minerva Christine Ann Cheatum
Description
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.
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.
Creator
Carrillo, Fernanda
Cheatum, Minerva Christine Ann
Date
2003-04-03
Subject
Clerk typist at Rio Vista processing center
Contributor
Cristóbal Borges
Rights
Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso
Language
eng
title (Spanish)
Minerva C. Cheatum
creator (Spanish)
Carrillo, Fernanda
contributor (Spanish)
Cristóbal A. Borges
Rights Holder
Institute of Oral History, The University of Texas at El Paso
Original Format
Mini Disc
Duration
57:20
Bit Rate/Frequency
24 bit
96 k
96 k
Transcription
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
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
Interviewer
Carrillo, Fernanda
Interviewee
Cheatum, Minerva Christine Ann
Location
El Paso, Texas
File Name Identifier
Cheatum_ELP012
Citation
Carrillo, Fernanda and Cheatum, Minerva Christine Ann, “Minerva Christine Ann Cheatum,” Bracero History Archive, accessed November 16, 2024, https://braceroarchive.org/items/show/77.