Tony and His Hair

Tony and friend

Green Bay-De Pere Wis,

1976

By kiki

In Tony Baltazar's first fight in the 1976 AAU Junior Olympic National Tournament, he became disqualified because of his hair. All our boys have lots of hair, and in the 1970s, they wore their hair long, which was the style back then.

Before we left for Green Bay-De Pere, Wis., I tried to get Tony to cut his hair, but to no avail, as he told me, "don't even think about it, Pops."

We flew into Green Bay and were met at the airport by Penny, a fella I had known for about ten years. He told us, "follow me," we did as he walked us to a school bus where a driver was waiting. We were driven to St. Norbert College, where we would be housed during the week we would be there. St. Norbert is a private Roman Catholic liberal art college in the Green Bay suburb of De Pere. The fights were also to be held at the college.

The day after arriving was spent with the boys weighing in, checking out the possible opponents, etc. Tony fought in the 125-pound class even though he only weighed 121 pounds and could've fought in the 119-weight class. But by putting him in the 125 lbs class, we didn't have to worry about him making weight.

After checking out and learning as much as possible about the boys in the 125-pound class, it was clear who the betting favorite was; yes, some betting was going on from the get-go. A boy (I don't remember his name) represented The Henry Armstrong Boys and Girls Club out of St Louis, Mo.

Boxing got started on the third day we were there. Tony's first opponent was a kid from Oregon. In the middle of the first round, the referee called time because Tony's hair was coming out from under his headgear. In the second round, Tony hit the kid with a left hook, and the kid went down; right after they resumed fighting, the referee again called time because of Tony's hair. In the rest period between the second and third rounds, the referee came to our corner and told me that he would disqualify Tony if he had to do the hair thing again in the third round. Out came my scissors, and I chopped Tony's hair that was sticking out from under the headgear; Tony couldn't believe what I had just done!! Tony went on to win a unanimous decision.

Tony was pissed at me, but he cooled down once I convinced him his hair would grow back. In his second tourney fight, Tony fought a kid from Michigan. Dropping the kid down twice, he again won by unanimous decision.

Tony's next opponent in the semi-final was the one I had been dreading, the favorite to win the whole enchilada in the 125-pound class, the kid from the Henry Armstrong Boys and Girls Club.

After the formalities, the bell rang for the first round, and about thirty seconds into the round, Tony nailed the favorite with a left hook. The kid's eyes went blank, but he didn't go down; the referee jumped in, gave the kid a standing eight count, and after the eight count, told him to resume fighting. Tony walked up to the kid who had his hands down and nailed him again with that hook of his; again, the referee jumped in; at this point, I thought the referee was going to stop the fight as the kid was literally out on his feet. Still, the referee thought otherwise as he motioned Tony back into action after giving the kid another standing eight count; again, Tony nailed the kid, who still had his hands down with that monster hook. That was enough for his corner as they jumped in the ring and stopped the fight, damn the referee! But, to his credit, the favorite never went down!

Tony's opponent from The Henry Armstrong Boys and Girls Club out of St Louis, Mo., received the Bronze Medal after being stopped by Tony in the 1st round...He looked like he was still out on his feet.

Tony was now in the championship bout; his opponent was from Arkansas, a kid whose last name was Fuller. Tony dropped Fuller once in the second round and won unanimously. Tony was now the 1976 AAU National Junior Olympic 125-pound class Champion. But it did not end there, as he was chosen as the outstanding fighter of the first four weight classes in the tournament. All in all, it was a great trip for us.

                              Tony, with his Outstanding Fighter award

Green Bay-De Pere Wis,

Pops and Stakas

By kiki


One summer day at the Simons Brickyard in the late 1940s, my Pops and our next-door neighbor Joe Levya, who was known far and wide as Stakas, were sitting on a little dirt hill about 50 yards or less from our house drinking wine and probably some beer too. 

After drinking most of the afternoon, they got into an argument. I was outside the house, don't remember what I was doing, but I remember hearing them yelling at each other; I remember Mom calling me inside and telling me, "go see what your dad and Stakas are arguing about" remember running towards the little hill. As I got closer, I could hear Stakas yelling at Pops, "no, Connie does," and Pops yelling back at him, "No, Eulalia does" I walked up to Pops and told him that Mom needed him at home, he agreed to go home. As he started walking away, he turned around and yelled at Stakas, "Eulalia's legs are more beautiful than Connie's" Damn! They were arguing as to whom's wife had the greater looking legs!... I have to admit that my Mom had gorgeous legs, but I don't want to argue about it!

Linda Baltazar

                                                        By kiki

Found this photo of our one and only daughter, Linda, circa 1957....Our beautiful daughter has grown up to be a wonderful daughter and a great mother/grandmother in her own right...Tho she has had ovarian cancer for over ten years and has gone through all the struggles that come with the dreaded disease she always manages to have a smile on her face....Love you much Mija, we all love you much. Thanks for being there for me when I struggled with my own cancer.

Pops 1941 Ford Woody

By kiki

 My Pops 1941 Ford Woody is pictured above at Gallatin Rd, Pico Viejo (now Pico Rivera). That is my sister Annie hanging on, circa 1953

The wood where the left rear door hinges were screwed on was rotten, so the screws wouldn't hold. And whenever I made a right-hand turn, the door would fly open or off. When it would fly out, I would have to stop and pick the door from the street and slam it back in place. My buddies used to rag on me all the time because of the door. Nobody wanted to sit on the left rear seat. The brakes also were not that great. During the summer of 1952, I packed the woody with friends while cruising and listening to R&B's on the Hunter Hancock radio show in Old Pico. My friend Albino was sitting on the left rear seat. Coming down a small hill toward an intersection, I applied the brakes to the woody just as Fats Domino started singing, "I'm Going to the River," but the woody kept going. I approached the intersection at a pretty good clip, and as I made a fast right-hand turn, the left rear door flew open with Albino flying out; this was one of the times the door didn't fall off. Albino, as he was flying out, was able to grab and hold onto the top of the door; as we were rolling down the street, he was holding onto the open door and running alongside the woody, yelling at me, "kiki, stop the car" "I can't, the brakes don't work, I have to down-shift" I yelled back at him. After I finally stopped, the woody Albino was so pissed at me and was trying to beat me up as I was rolling on the ground laughing. I think he wet his skivvies.

One time I was taking my mom and a couple of her sisters to visit another sister. My Aunt Lupe was sitting left rear holding a baby, and as I made a fast right turn, the door flew off with Aunt Lupe and the baby flying out too. Aunt Lupe landed on her butt and bounced a couple of times without letting go of the baby. Aunt Lupe and the baby were okay, but she was mad and wanted to kill me; she handed the baby to my mom and started hitting me on the chest with her tiny fist as she screamed at me. She wouldn't get in the woody after that, and she carried the baby the mile or so to her sister's house.

In the late summer of 1952, my dad bought a 1950 Chevy, and I bought my first car, a 1938 Chevy, in the early fall of 1952. And while the woody still ran, it was not used. Then, in the summer of '53, Mom and Dad took a three-week vacation to Mexico, and while they were gone, a friend, Frankie, who drove a 1940-Ford asked me if I would sell him the woody's transmission and said he needed a tranny as his had gone south. He told me I'll pay you ten dollars later; that's fine, I told him. But, again, the woody was not used, so I told him to go ahead and drop the tranny, and that he could pay me later, he dropped the tranny in no time flat.

A few days after Mom and Dad got back from Mexico, Dad told Mom, "I'll be back in a bit, going to take the woody out for a spin; it hasn't been run for a while, and it needs to be run to keep the battery up." I was looking for a rock to crawl under; finding none, I told Pops, "Pop, you can't drive the woody."

"Why not"?

"You can't drive it without a tranny”

"What happened to the tranny”?

"I sold it."

He took it well and didn't get really pissed at me. Not long after that, he sold Old Woody.

I never got the ten dollars from Frankie!!

Mother's Day...2013

By kiki

Wishing my late Mom, Eulalia Adame-Baltazar, a Happy Mother's Day. I have lots of memories of Mom, some happy ones, like when we were kids in the late 1940s, she would take us to the show to watch Roy Rogers cowboy movies, also have some not-so-happy ones, like when she would grab me by the ear and pull and twist it for such minor things as making my sisters cry, which I did, by pulling their hair or smacking them one. I would try to explain to Mom that  I was just having fun making the girls cry but being the intelligent woman she was, she wouldn't buy my explanation. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Love you

kiki

"The Boyfriend"

By kiki

Around 1950, while living in Simons, my older sister, Rachel, had a boyfriend, Ramon. When Ramon would come over in the evenings to see her, he had to come inside the house because big sister was not allowed to go outside with him. Ramon drove a 1939 Chevy that didn't have a key; he would just hot-wire it to get it running. 

So as soon as Ramon would walk inside the house, I would walk out the back door, and jump in Ramon's '39 Chevy, hot-wire it and go pick up my friends and go joy-riding around the brickyard. I knew when Ramon would be leaving, so I would park the '39 back in front of the house 15-20 minutes before Ramon would leave. Then, after saying goodbye to Rachel, Ramon would hot-wire the Chevy, and as he was ready to leave, he would look at the gas gauge and go nuts "they stole my f*^#kin' gas again!"...