“El Rancho

     

                      

                                             By kiki

My dad had a Japanese friend who had a farm on Greenwood Blvd., just north of Telegraph Road in South Montebello. Not sure if it was in the Montebello City limits. Soon after the Dec. 7, 1941 bombing of Pearl Harbor my dad’s friend was roundup with his wife and young family and send to a “War Relocation” camp.

We were living in the Simons Brickyard at the time when my dad’s friend was roundup. I remember pops going to say goodbye to his friend the day they were going to be to be driven away from the farm, when pops got back home, he told us that we were moving into his friend’s farm. I don’t know what kind of arrangements pops made, or with whom he made them with.

I don’t remember actually the year we moved into what we called “El Rancho”, but it was during the early days of the war.

I really don’t know why we called it a “ranch” when it was a farm. My dad’s friend, how I wish I knew his name, but I don’t, grew black-eyed beans, tomatoes, cabbage, green chilies and lettuces, etc. The house on the farm was pretty good sized. It was the first time I had had a bedroom to myself. There was a small irrigation channel that ran alongside the house. Don’t remember ever jumping in the water, but that channel gave “El Rancho” character. In the winter that we lived at the farm I remember that my older late sister, Rachel, and I, all bundle up in our winter clothing had to walk through frozen farm land, that area was all farms in the ‘40s, on our way to school at Vail Elementary, which was about a forty minute walk. Back at the farm after school I remember picking black-eye beans for mom to cook, also picking up a cabbage that mom would cook, I love cooked cabbage!!

For some reason or other we didn’t stayed at “El Rancho” long, maybe six months. Couple of memories still embedded in my mind from those days we spend at the farm: remember Rachel and I sitting by the window, looking out of our dark house as search lights lighted up the sky to identified unidentified aircraft…One memories that comes to life when I close my eyes is when we had retired for the night, I would be lying in bed in my dark bedroom listening to the big rigs as they roared up and down Telegraph Road. Will never forget those months we lived in “El Rancho”