By Frank "kiki" Baltazar
1950 was the year I turn 14 years old. Nothing much happened that years aside from going to the Olympic to see Art Aragon trash my hero Enrique Bolanos and Beto's brother stealing our rabbits for his wedding dinner.
1951 was the year I got my first tattoo (“kiki”-51-) with the “51“ under “kiki” on my right arm. Went to see Art Aragon fight Jimmy Carter twice, with Keeny Teran fighting on the under card on the second fight, also got to see Enrique Bolanos fight Eddie Chavez and Keeny fighting Gil Cadilli on the same card at the Hollywood Legion. Late summer-early fall went to Moorpark, Ca. to pick walnuts, had a great time in Moorpark, fooled around more then work .
1952 was the year that the Simons Brickyard became part of history, a history that left us with some happy and sad memories, happy because even though we were dirt poor we still led a happy life, sad because we had to leave the only home we had known, I wrote some of my memories of the brickyard before, so I won't get into them here. It was in August that we left Simons for good, we jumped on my dad's 1941 Ford Woody and headed north to Hollister, Ca. where we found work picking plums, after we were done with harvesting the plums we worked picking grapes in a mountain range called “El Gavilan”, after two weeks of picking grapes we headed back to SoCal. We lived with my maternal grandparents in Pico, now Pico-Rivera, Ca. until my dad was able to find us a house to live in, which wasn't long. Late '52 I started working the weekends at the Whittier Car Wash and I was ready to buy my first car, which I did in December, I bought a 1938 four door Chevy that ran more on oil then gas for 55 dollars, five bucks a week.
1953 was a nondescript year, beside meeting girls nothing much happened, going to school, working the weekends at the car wash and cruising and listening to Hunter Hancock play R&B music on my ride was the order of the day.
1954 started out the same as '53, that is until April, when I met Connie. In the summer after working up north for a bit I started working full time at the car wash and that gave me enough money to put oil in my car and take her to eat at “The Spot” on Olympic Blvd. in Montebello, Ca. On Sundays I would get paid and get off work at 2:00 PM, after going home to clean up, I would go pick Connie up at her house in Jimtown, go to The Spot and order a pastrami for each of us, after eating it was time to cruise the barrios, Simons, Canta Rana's, Jimtown, El Ranchito, and of course E.L.A..
As summer turned into fall things with Connie and I were getting serious, in December we decided to get married, it was a great way for Connie and I to end the year.
1955 was a time for both Connie and I to get used to married life, I went to work full time at a car dealership (paint shop) and Connie stay home, it was a quiet year., not much happening.
1956 was a big year for us, after nearly two years of marriage our first child was born, our beautiful daughter Linda was born on August 21, remember going to pick Connie and baby Linda up from Los Angeles County General Hospital with my late sister Mary Ellen's then boyfriend, later husband, Danny, and goofing off like kids in the hallway of the hospital. Connie and I spent the rest of '56 bonding with our baby.
1957 was again a quiet year. Watch Linda take her first steps as she turned 1 year old, it was also the year I turned 21, I could now drink a beer legally. I can't say how old Connie was without maybe getting thrown in jail.
1958 was another big year for Connie and I with the birth of our first son, Fernie, who was born on April 14. He was later to be known in the boxing world as Frankie Baltazar Jr.. Not long after Fernie was born a friend of Connie's asked her if she would like a job, after we talked it over she decided to take the job, which is how I became a kept man later on in our marriage.
1959 we spent all our free time watching Linda and Fernie grow and do what kids do.
It was, all in all a great decade to be alive.
About Me
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Repost from 'Los Angeles Revisited'
Tour of Simons and Montebello, Cal.
By Elisabeth L. Uyeda
It was a perfect, sunny Saturday morning to be outside, March 22nd, 2008. I met up with my friend who lived at the Simons brickyard as a young man (he asked to remain anonymous.) He promptly arrived at 9:30 a.m. as we planned. He drove us through Montebello, and along the ride into “town” I rapidly took notes so I would not miss any of his recollections, no matter how minute or inconsequential. As he headed down Montebello Boulevard, just before reaching Olympic Boulevard, he pointed out that the boulevard used to be a two-lane street.
My friend has three sons, one in Long Beach, another in Upland, and one in the desert. He also has four grandchildren: two girls and two boys. [Recently another grandchild was born this year, 2010.]
Turning south on Garfield Avenue from Olympic, he said that the street used to end at the railroad, as there was no railroad overpass. One would have had to detour at Vail or Atlantic.
Soon, we were entering into the former streets of Simons, heading south down Vail pass the school. At some point, I asked him about Montebello High School: I think he said that the old high school was at Montebello and Whittier; in the late 1940’s, the high school was converted to a junior high school. (He attended the newer high school campus.)
We drove past a business, Meyers Electric, in “Simons”. My friend said he used to work in that building. We headed for the “church”, which was Our Lady of Mount Carmel, located where the Home Depot stands, along the 5 Freeway. South of the “church” was a farm, run by Japanese. He said they were taken away during World War II. He recollected there was a wide irrigation channel to water the crops.
He pointed out other buildings that used to be there: the Prado house, which was the largest in Simons, near the corner of Vail and Rivera. Mr. Henry “Genaro” Prado was the superintendent who patrolled the company grounds with sheriff-like authority, and he had two daughters, Ernestine and Mercedes. Another large house was the Romo house, to accomodate the company bookkeeper. We both acknowledged meeting a daughter, Dora Romo Gurrola, on several occasions recently. Rivera Road would have ran behind the current Home Depot. At the end of Rivera Road there was a town hall.
West of Vail, not far from Rivera, were workers’ houses, and beyond the houses were the maquinas, and beyond was the East Los Angeles Airport. My friend said there were numerous airports around, and the East LA Airport was not a part of the nearby Vail Airport. He worked one summer (1949) as a lineboy at the East LA Airport. His sister worked at a hamburger eatery at the airport. His job entailed refueling planes for the flight school. He pulled planes out on the line to refuel. When planes returned from flight, he would check the gas gauge, as well as prop the engines poised for self-cranking by the pilots. In the course of his job, he drove a Studebaker, although he did not possess a driver’s license! I asked him if it was difficult to get a job, and he replied “no”. Apparently, the previous worker quit. My friend happened to be at a restaurant when he was approached about filling the job. The job fell in his lap!
Some other airport recollections: he remembers once there was an Army plane flown by a drunken pilot who managed to land the plane in an open field. He also remembers a woman flight instructor who took him flying at least four times. She even offered to teach him to fly, but regrettably, the flight school closed soon after. His summer job did not last long, because the gasoline gave his skin a rash.
He mentioned that at the vicinity of Atlantic and Slauson there was another air field. An eucalyptus tree served as a boundary marker for the town, but it appears the tree has disappeared. Rivera Road led to Telegraph Road. He pointed out the sunken formation of the land west of Vail, and he said it was due to the clay excavation. West of Vail also had a narrow gauge railroad running through it.
He then turned off into Condor Street from Vail. Continuing east a bit, we passed Tanager. This, he said, was the entrance spot to El Hoyo (The Hole). The heart of El Hoyo was by Condor and Supply Avenue. Al pointed out that the area adjacent to El Hoyo as higher ground. The following is a description of El Hoyo written by him in 2007:
'El Hoyo' was where last of the 'maquinas', the 'rakas' and the kilns were located. It was also where most of the houses were. We lived in 'El Hoyo'. The other areas of Simons were 'La Vail' and 'El Barrio Verde'. 'La Vail' was right on Vail Avenue, the only paved street in Simons. I understand that 'El Barrio Verde' was so named because the houses were once painted green. There were also a few houses on Rivera Road but it was considered as part of 'La Vail'. Rivera Road is now an extension of Sycamore Avenue. (2/22/2007)
We passed another commercial building (Blister-pak). My friend commented that he worked in the building when it was an electrical manufacturer.
At some point during the driving tour, I inquired where he thought his former street, El Carmel Street, was situated. He pinpointed it to be near the present-day address of 2854 Supply Avenue.
He named off the old streets that ran in the east/west direction: Guanajuato, Jalisco, California, Montebello, El Carmel.
My friend explained about his dad’s life at the brickyard: he died in April, 1980. Some of his father’s responsibilities at the brickyard entailed setting up cables for the conveyors of freshly molded clay. He also watched the kilns in operation and made adjustments to the valves during the baking process. I asked whether his father suffered any health problems as a result of working in a brickyard. He didn’t have occupation-related illnesses, my friend said. After the brickyard closed, the family moved nearby to present-day Commerce.
We drove into the dead-ended Church Street. He pointed out that in order to get to church, church-goers had to walk across the railroad tracks. Once, he remembered, a slow-walking woman froze as a passing train came through and managed to miss striking her.
We drove around and around. We were driving north on Vail again pass the school. (The school was an elementary school during the company’s reign. Today, it serves as Vail Continuation High School.) My friend refers to the administration building, which is fairly old, as “new” since he remembers when there was another building there before its time. Furthermore, there were more school structures where Vail Street runs now, but they were torn to accommodate the widening of Vail Street.
Old building converted to a residence in the old Simons neighborhood.
He drove and pointed out where the neighborhood grocery stores where. He pointed one building near Maple and Espanol, now converted to a residential structure, in which Ernestine Macias’s father-in-law had a grocery store. He told me that at Maple and Date Street, Maple was moved, probably in order to accommodate a business.
Along our drive, my friend said that he worked in the brickyard one summer. He used a mule, named "Chiquita", which pulled a wagon to collect empty pallets from the rakas and transport them to where the molded clay was readied.
We finished in “town” but headed north into Montebello so he could show me where the Malone houses are. He was not sure what Malone’s role was at Simons. As we headed north on Vail, past Washington Boulevard, he pointed out that the northwest parcel by Vail and Washington was land that was filled in, because it was an old clay excavation zone. Along the way, we drove on Madison Street. He said there was a time when the street was named Washington Street. Soon, we came upon a brick home on 10th Street, near Madison. It was a modest home. We then drove to Fremont and Poplar, where a magnificent and handsome brick home sits.
I asked him if he ventured out of Simons much, and yes, he said, he met school friends, and often caught the bus to Whittier Boulevard in East Los Angeles.
My friend delivered me back to our starting point. I took some photos of him, and he said he was heading off to a birthday celebration of a former Simons neighbor and friend, Victor, who was turning 80 years old.
By Elisabeth L. Uyeda
It was a perfect, sunny Saturday morning to be outside, March 22nd, 2008. I met up with my friend who lived at the Simons brickyard as a young man (he asked to remain anonymous.) He promptly arrived at 9:30 a.m. as we planned. He drove us through Montebello, and along the ride into “town” I rapidly took notes so I would not miss any of his recollections, no matter how minute or inconsequential. As he headed down Montebello Boulevard, just before reaching Olympic Boulevard, he pointed out that the boulevard used to be a two-lane street.
My friend has three sons, one in Long Beach, another in Upland, and one in the desert. He also has four grandchildren: two girls and two boys. [Recently another grandchild was born this year, 2010.]
Turning south on Garfield Avenue from Olympic, he said that the street used to end at the railroad, as there was no railroad overpass. One would have had to detour at Vail or Atlantic.
Soon, we were entering into the former streets of Simons, heading south down Vail pass the school. At some point, I asked him about Montebello High School: I think he said that the old high school was at Montebello and Whittier; in the late 1940’s, the high school was converted to a junior high school. (He attended the newer high school campus.)
We drove past a business, Meyers Electric, in “Simons”. My friend said he used to work in that building. We headed for the “church”, which was Our Lady of Mount Carmel, located where the Home Depot stands, along the 5 Freeway. South of the “church” was a farm, run by Japanese. He said they were taken away during World War II. He recollected there was a wide irrigation channel to water the crops.
He pointed out other buildings that used to be there: the Prado house, which was the largest in Simons, near the corner of Vail and Rivera. Mr. Henry “Genaro” Prado was the superintendent who patrolled the company grounds with sheriff-like authority, and he had two daughters, Ernestine and Mercedes. Another large house was the Romo house, to accomodate the company bookkeeper. We both acknowledged meeting a daughter, Dora Romo Gurrola, on several occasions recently. Rivera Road would have ran behind the current Home Depot. At the end of Rivera Road there was a town hall.
West of Vail, not far from Rivera, were workers’ houses, and beyond the houses were the maquinas, and beyond was the East Los Angeles Airport. My friend said there were numerous airports around, and the East LA Airport was not a part of the nearby Vail Airport. He worked one summer (1949) as a lineboy at the East LA Airport. His sister worked at a hamburger eatery at the airport. His job entailed refueling planes for the flight school. He pulled planes out on the line to refuel. When planes returned from flight, he would check the gas gauge, as well as prop the engines poised for self-cranking by the pilots. In the course of his job, he drove a Studebaker, although he did not possess a driver’s license! I asked him if it was difficult to get a job, and he replied “no”. Apparently, the previous worker quit. My friend happened to be at a restaurant when he was approached about filling the job. The job fell in his lap!
Some other airport recollections: he remembers once there was an Army plane flown by a drunken pilot who managed to land the plane in an open field. He also remembers a woman flight instructor who took him flying at least four times. She even offered to teach him to fly, but regrettably, the flight school closed soon after. His summer job did not last long, because the gasoline gave his skin a rash.
He mentioned that at the vicinity of Atlantic and Slauson there was another air field. An eucalyptus tree served as a boundary marker for the town, but it appears the tree has disappeared. Rivera Road led to Telegraph Road. He pointed out the sunken formation of the land west of Vail, and he said it was due to the clay excavation. West of Vail also had a narrow gauge railroad running through it.
He then turned off into Condor Street from Vail. Continuing east a bit, we passed Tanager. This, he said, was the entrance spot to El Hoyo (The Hole). The heart of El Hoyo was by Condor and Supply Avenue. Al pointed out that the area adjacent to El Hoyo as higher ground. The following is a description of El Hoyo written by him in 2007:
'El Hoyo' was where last of the 'maquinas', the 'rakas' and the kilns were located. It was also where most of the houses were. We lived in 'El Hoyo'. The other areas of Simons were 'La Vail' and 'El Barrio Verde'. 'La Vail' was right on Vail Avenue, the only paved street in Simons. I understand that 'El Barrio Verde' was so named because the houses were once painted green. There were also a few houses on Rivera Road but it was considered as part of 'La Vail'. Rivera Road is now an extension of Sycamore Avenue. (2/22/2007)
We passed another commercial building (Blister-pak). My friend commented that he worked in the building when it was an electrical manufacturer.
At some point during the driving tour, I inquired where he thought his former street, El Carmel Street, was situated. He pinpointed it to be near the present-day address of 2854 Supply Avenue.
He named off the old streets that ran in the east/west direction: Guanajuato, Jalisco, California, Montebello, El Carmel.
My friend explained about his dad’s life at the brickyard: he died in April, 1980. Some of his father’s responsibilities at the brickyard entailed setting up cables for the conveyors of freshly molded clay. He also watched the kilns in operation and made adjustments to the valves during the baking process. I asked whether his father suffered any health problems as a result of working in a brickyard. He didn’t have occupation-related illnesses, my friend said. After the brickyard closed, the family moved nearby to present-day Commerce.
We drove into the dead-ended Church Street. He pointed out that in order to get to church, church-goers had to walk across the railroad tracks. Once, he remembered, a slow-walking woman froze as a passing train came through and managed to miss striking her.
We drove around and around. We were driving north on Vail again pass the school. (The school was an elementary school during the company’s reign. Today, it serves as Vail Continuation High School.) My friend refers to the administration building, which is fairly old, as “new” since he remembers when there was another building there before its time. Furthermore, there were more school structures where Vail Street runs now, but they were torn to accommodate the widening of Vail Street.
Old building converted to a residence in the old Simons neighborhood.
He drove and pointed out where the neighborhood grocery stores where. He pointed one building near Maple and Espanol, now converted to a residential structure, in which Ernestine Macias’s father-in-law had a grocery store. He told me that at Maple and Date Street, Maple was moved, probably in order to accommodate a business.
Along our drive, my friend said that he worked in the brickyard one summer. He used a mule, named "Chiquita", which pulled a wagon to collect empty pallets from the rakas and transport them to where the molded clay was readied.
We finished in “town” but headed north into Montebello so he could show me where the Malone houses are. He was not sure what Malone’s role was at Simons. As we headed north on Vail, past Washington Boulevard, he pointed out that the northwest parcel by Vail and Washington was land that was filled in, because it was an old clay excavation zone. Along the way, we drove on Madison Street. He said there was a time when the street was named Washington Street. Soon, we came upon a brick home on 10th Street, near Madison. It was a modest home. We then drove to Fremont and Poplar, where a magnificent and handsome brick home sits.
I asked him if he ventured out of Simons much, and yes, he said, he met school friends, and often caught the bus to Whittier Boulevard in East Los Angeles.
My friend delivered me back to our starting point. I took some photos of him, and he said he was heading off to a birthday celebration of a former Simons neighbor and friend, Victor, who was turning 80 years old.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Tio Florentino, Mama Lupe and Tia Lala....Baltazar
My uncle Florentino Baltazar, seen here with my grandma Lupe and my aunt, Lala, was awarded the Purple Heart when he was wounded in Europe during WWII. The story is that he and his fellow G.I's were shooting dices outside the barracks when bombs started raining on them, they all ran inside the barracks, Florentino didn't make it to the barracks, all the ones that made to the barracks got killed, Florenetino suffer wounds from bomb fragments...Florentino died from cancer in 1995.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
A Pachie Story: "I Ain't Squawking"
By kiki
One time in the early 1950s we were shooting pool at the Simons Pool Hall on Date street in Simons. While we were shooting pool Pachie was getting a shoe shine from the shoe shine boy. Afterwards he was just walking around with a joint on his ear, getting tired of hanging around he left, saying that he would see us later. We didn't see him again till a week later when he showed up the pool hall. He told us that after he left the pool hall the week before he was pulled over by the Montebello cops, and that one cop told him he was under arrest for having a joint, Pachie asked the cop “where is the evidence?”, the cop took the joint from his ear, “here it is” said the cop
He was put in the back seat of the cop’s car and the cop asked Pachie “where did you get the joint?”, Pachie answered him with “I ain’t squawking” The cops pulled him out of the car and kicked his ass and than let him go.
Poor Pachie was always getting his ass kicked, first the rooster, now the cops.
One time in the early 1950s we were shooting pool at the Simons Pool Hall on Date street in Simons. While we were shooting pool Pachie was getting a shoe shine from the shoe shine boy. Afterwards he was just walking around with a joint on his ear, getting tired of hanging around he left, saying that he would see us later. We didn't see him again till a week later when he showed up the pool hall. He told us that after he left the pool hall the week before he was pulled over by the Montebello cops, and that one cop told him he was under arrest for having a joint, Pachie asked the cop “where is the evidence?”, the cop took the joint from his ear, “here it is” said the cop
He was put in the back seat of the cop’s car and the cop asked Pachie “where did you get the joint?”, Pachie answered him with “I ain’t squawking” The cops pulled him out of the car and kicked his ass and than let him go.
Poor Pachie was always getting his ass kicked, first the rooster, now the cops.
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