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I grew up in El Hoyo Simons, Montebello, Calfornia

Thursday, September 29, 2011

"The Judge"

By Frank "kiki" Baltazar

Edit by Phil Rice

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Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge Leopodo Sanchez receiving an award




Leopodo Sanchez
Los Angeles County Superior
Court Judge

One Sunday night in the summer of 1961, I was cruising down Whittier Blvd. in East Los Angeles listening to some R & B when I saw a red light in my rearview mirror. The cops were pulling me over. For what, I didn’t know. I pulled over to the curb and waited for the Man to come give me a ticket.

“Driver’s license and car registration please.”

I handed the cop both license and registration, and as I did so I said, “careful with the license. Just got it back a couple of weeks ago.”

“You just got it back?” the cop asked me.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you just get them back?” he wanted to know.

“Well my license was suspended for awhile,” I said.

“How long of awhile?” the cop shot back at me. “Were you driving
while your license was suspended?”

“No sir,” I said.

“Are you sure? Do you have any warrants?”

“No sir,” I said again.

“Well let’s find out.” The cop went back to his car, got on the radio and ran a make on me. After a few minutes he came back and told me to put my hands on the hood of the car. Damn! Going to jail on a beautiful summer night. The only good thing was that it was on a Sunday night, because Monday morning we'd get to see the judge.

I was taken to the East Los Angeles Sheriff sub-station on Third Street to spend the night. Monday morning came and I with a few others was taken to the courthouse to see the judge. Some of us were taken into Judge Leopoldo Sanchez's courtroom. Sanchez had a reputation as the most lenient judge in E.L.A, anybody and everybody who had a case pending in the E.L.A courthouse wanted to go in front of Judge Sanchez. Lucky me, I also knew the Judge from the Olympic Auditorium as he was a big boxing fan. I would see him there every Thursday night. Now and then I would talk to him at the Olympic, but I never introduced myself so he didn’t know my name.

Judge Sanchez started hearing cases, and after two or three cases he calls, “Frank Baltazar, case number XXXX.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I answered.

“You are charged with driving with a suspended license, how do you plea?"

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“OK, a ten-dollar fine. Can you pay it?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“OK, sit down,” the judge told me.
I sat. The judge called the next case, “Frank Baltazar, case number XXXX.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Oh, it’s you again. Let's see what you are charged with this time.”

“I think it’s the same thing Your Honor. Driving with a suspended license.”

“Yes it is, and how do you plea?”

“Guilty Your Honor.”

“I’m going to have to fine you twenty-five dollars on this one. Can you pay it?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I answered again.

“OK, sit down.” I sat. The judge called his next case, “Frank Baltazar case XXXX."

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“You again? Same charge. How many warrants did you have?” the judge asked me.

“Three Your Honor. This should be the last one.”

“OK, I fined you ten dollars on the first one and twenty-five on the second one. On the third one I’m going to have to fine you seventy-five dollars. Can you pay it?”

“Your Honor, I can pay the first two now, but I can’t pay the last one.” I told the judge.

“OK, pay the thirty-five dollars by 5:00 PM today and I’ll give you three months to pay the seventy-five dollars at twenty-five dollars a month”

“Thank you, Your Honor. I can do that, but I need to go home to get the thirty-five dollars.” The judge then told the bailiff to let me go home to get the money. I ran all the way home, which wasn’t more than two miles from my house, got a ride with a friend back to the courthouse, paid the thirty-five dollars, put the receipt in my wallet, and then went to get my car out of the tow yard, which cost me another fifty bucks.

I then paid three payments of twenty-five a month for the next three months. I saved the receipts just in case. I ran into the judge at the fights a couple of times and he asked me if I was paying the fine. “Yes sir,” I told him.

A few months later after I had made my last payment I got pulled over in Montebello. The cops ran a make on me and it turned out I had a warrant with a nine-dollar bail, so I was taken to the Montebello Police department. From there I called Connie to come bail me out and told her to make sure she brought nine dollars.
I left the Montebello Police station with a date to see the judge. I went to see Judge Sanchez on the date I was given. When he called my name he was one pissed off judge. “I gave you a chance to pay the seventy-five dollar fine in three months and you didn’t.”

“But sir! I did pay the seventy-five dollars.”

“You did?”

“Yes and I have the receipts with me.”

“Give them to the bailiff.” I gave them to the bailiff and he passed them on to the judge. After he read the receipts he told me, “but you didn’t pay the other three dollars.”

“What other three dollars Your Honor?”

"For every twenty-five dollars you pay one dollar for processing," he told me. I then told him that he told me to pay twenty-five dollars a month, which I did and I had the receipts to prove it. “Case dismissed,” said the judge.

“Your Honor, what about my nine dollars for the bail?”

“Oh, you’ll get that back in the mail in about a month." About three weeks later I got my nine dollars back and Connie took it away from me. Said it was her money. Just can’t get any respect!..

Saturday, September 24, 2011

What a set of pipes!!

"kiki!, kiki!!", Connie was screaming at the top of her lungs at me. Man! does that woman have a set of pipes on her.

"Yes dear" I answered.
"What did you do to my blouse!?" she asked me as she is holding up a dark blouse for me to see. It was a dark blue blouse with some white spots that looked like they didn't belong there.

"I didn't do anything to your blouse dear" I told her as I begin to sweat.
"You do the laundry, don't you!?."
"Of course I do" I said.
"Well, look!, you ruin one of my favorite blouses, did you get some bleach on it!?."
"It wasn't my fault" I told her.
"Who's fault was it?, the dogs?,they are the only ones here with you during the day.
"If you want to believe that, I'll agree with you" I told her as I walked away

What a set of pipes!!

Two Distant Cousin's Of Mine, Ralph And Cheno Diaz...Simons Reunion, Circa 1983

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Two old Friends From Simons, The Late Pieo And Sonny Rivera..Simons Reunion..Circa 1983

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Monday, September 19, 2011

The Brick People

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This family, The Ramos's lived two doors west of us on Railroad St.

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Houses in the barrio

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The young people from Simons...circa late 1940's

Monday, September 5, 2011

Chicken Bugs

I tried to wake the roosters up this morning, but they flip their wings on me and want back to sleep.....

When I was about 14 years old living in Simons a friend, Coy, and I were messing around with two sisters, they were about 13 & 14 years old. One nite when their parents were out on the town, Coy and I want to the girls house, they let us in and with the lights out we start making out. We lost track of time because the parents came home and we were still there with the girls, Coy and I ran out the back door, we didn't know where to hide so we ran into the chicken coop, we hided there till the lights in the house went out, as the lights went out we walked out the gate and went home, next day Coy and I were full of chicken bugs. Hell!, we didn't know that chickens had bugs!!....

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Received this e-mail today (9-3-2011)

Hello Frank "KiKi" Baltazar,

I stumbled upon your blog/website a couple of months ago and have found it very interesting. Mainly because it is part of my roots. I enjoy reading and looking at the pictures. My grandfather was Sabino Baltazar and he and Francisco Baltazar were related. As best that I know, is that they were cousins. My mother, Maria Elisa Baltazar, was born in 1929 in Simons. Sabino met and married his wife, Eufemia, in Denver, Colorado. Sabino worked for the Union (or Southern) Pacific railroad laying railroad tracks. Eufemia was a farm worker in Colorado. So, Sabino met Eufemia as his tracks were passing by her farm in Denver. Sabino's job somehow took him by Simons were my mother was born. Due to the great-depression, Sabino took his family back to Mexico (Penjamo, Gto). Sometime, in the mid '50's my mother returned to the Simon's area (maybe/probably stayed with Eulalia Baltazar). In December of 1956, Elisa married my father, Paulino Araujo at the church in Simons. They had their first child, a son, Juan Manuel "John" Araujo, in March 1958. That is me. I have my own life story but what you posted on the web is fantastic. Now, I know what Simons was like. I only really got to know Eulalia and Frank Arriola and the rest of that household from 1958 and on. I never really got to know the rest of the extended family which are part of my/your/our roots.

Before, I would get excited whenever I saw a Simons brick just because all I knew was that that was were my mother was born. Now, I know more. I went to Cal State LA and was on the cross country team. On the team, our best runner was named Cary Simons. I never put two and two together until I read your material but I bet he is related to Mr. Simons of the brickyard. That is all for now.

Thanks. John Araujo

PS - In the '80's, I recall reading/hearing about the boxing Baltazars. I always wondered if I was related. Now, I know. It seems that us Baltazars have athletics in our genes.