Flashing Red Lights

By kiki

Seeing these pictures of this stolen Montebello Police car brought back Simons Brickyard memories. - One moonless summer night during the late 1940s, we kids from El Hoyo were hanging around 'la lumbrita' (small fire) when a Chota's (police) car with red flashing lights came roaring out of the profound darkness that was the brickyard once the sun went down. Us kids didn't know what to make out of the Chota's car because the Chota never ever went into El Hoyo at night; hell, they hardly went in during the daytime. So we really didn't need them as Simons was, despite its notorious reputation, a safe barrio. 

Of course, there were drunken brawls among men, and some time among women too, but no cuetes (guns) or fileros (knives) were used, or needed: the men fought like men, with their fist, and the women fought like women, pulling their hair and poking their eyes. And some mischievous kids gave the brickyard's private Chota a hard time; they'd so by burning the brickyard's paletas (pallets) and people's fences, not to mention stealing a rooster.

With its flashing red lights and going as fast as it could, the chota's car came bouncing on the dirt road ruts, ruts deep enough to loosen tooth fillings, towards the la lumbrita, and as the flashing red lights got nearer, we could hear yelling and laughter coming from the chota's car. The car made a couple of fast 180 turns, spraying dirt as it did so before it stopped in front of us, frozen in our shoes, kids. Four barrio guys said they were chota's jumped out of a stolen Los Angeles County Sheriff's car. The new chota's were quick to get back in the wind. We heard a few days later that the wanna-be Chotas were in the graybar hotel.  

The toilet Seat

By kiki

Back in the late '70s, my cousin Big Henry Baltazar and I, with our ladies, of course, were on a Sunday motorcycle ride around the Corona/Lake Elsinore area, and from there, we took a two-lane road to Perris in Riverside County. But before we got to Perris, we came upon a small hamlet, one without no name. There we stopped at a gas station similar to the one in the photo. Once Henry and I were done topping off the Harley's, we looked for the men's room. 

We asked the attendant, a little old man who looked to be a refugee from Los Angeles' skid row, where the bathroom was; with a toothless grin, he motioned with his head and said "around the corner" Around the corner, we found only a door that was hanging on by just one of its three hinges. There was no sign on it to indicate that it was the men's room, but we went in anyway. We found, in what served as both a supply room and men's and ladies' bathroom, a toilet bucket with a tire split in half as the seat. The tire/seat was a white wall from Sears.

Woody Strode

By kiki

Woody Strode

How many of you remember Woody Strode, a football player, wrestler, and actor? Woody married Hawaiian Princess Luukialuana, better known to her friends as Luana. Luana, an actress in her own right, was a player, and she loved to party at Bradley's Nite Club on Whittier Blvd in East Los Angeles. Back in the late '50s and early '60s, Bradley's was a favorite haunt for the young crowd to dance the night away, and Luana, much to the chagrined of Woody, was always there dancing with the young cats. So Woody walked into Bradley's more than once and forcefully dragged Luana home. We all hated to see her go because she was lots of fun as she held court, telling us stories about her young days as a Hawaiian princess. Most of us hanging at Bradley's could only dream of going to Hawaii, but here we were conversing with a Hawaiian Princess.

                   Woody Strode and Hawaiian Princess Luukialuana

Fear of the Unknown

                                                       Connie 

By kiki

I'm scared: afraid of the unknown, and afraid of the uncharted waters my wife Connie and I find ourselves in. Connie and I, up until now, have had a pretty good healthy life, that's not to say we haven't suffered major illness, we have, but we have survived them, its just that we have been healthy enough so that we might have taken each day for granted; but having said that, we now find our lives in turmoil due to cancer. Yes, cancer and other ills have visited the family before now: our daughter Linda and I are longtime cancer survivors. We have also lost a child and some grandkids. Connie and I do have some of what I refer to as "old folks ills" Those are ills that are expected to hit you as you reach a certain age. But now Connie has been diagnosed with cancer of the uterus. After "spotting" for about ten days Connie went to see her primary doctor, who in turn referred her to a gynecologist. The gynecologist did a biopsy, and after learning that the results were positive for cancer of the uterus he told Connie that she was going to need surgery and he referred her to an oncologist/surgeon that specializes in female cancers: She has yet to see the oncologist/surgeon so we still don't know when the surgery will be scheduled - In the wee morning hours of this past Saturday, I had to take her to the ER due to very heavy bleeding. After about four hours the ER doctor, after consulting by phone with her gynecologist told her that she was stable enough to return home. - In what stage is her cancer? We still don't know - Almost as bad as the cancer is the loops and hoops the HMO's make you jump through in order to see a referred specialist.

Updates

2-12-19: Connie saw the surgeon today and her surgery will be scheduled as soon as the doctor gets approval from the HMO. We were told it could take up to two weeks for the HMO to get off the dime. 

2-26-19: Connie is scheduled for surgery on the 11 of March.

                                                             Us   

Pan Dulce and a Root Beer

By kiki

During my Montebello Junior High school years (1950-'52), my Pops had a charge account at Nacho's Date Street store (Camilo Delgado, AKA Nacho, step-dad to my friend Raul Martinez, also owned the local pool hall); he paid it off every two weeks, (Simons' workers got paid every two weeks) One Saturday morning he walked up the hill from El Hoyo Simons to pay Nacho. When he got home, I could see something was wrong because he was mad. 'time for me to hide,' I thought. But there was no hiding from Pops 'kiki; I want to talk to you," he said. "yes?" I meekly answered because I knew what was coming. "I just paid Nacho off, and my bill was a lot higher than what it should have been, and when I questioned Nacho about his bookkeeping, he told me that it was you running up the bill and not him because you stop there every day after school to have a pan dulce and a Root Beer, is that true?" Damn, I was busted with my hand in the cookie jar. "Yes, pop, what Nacho told you is true, but can I explain why I did that?" "Please do, if you can," he replied. "well, Pops, its this way, you see, every day I have to walk to and forth from school, and that's because I got thrown off the school bus for shooting spitballs at the driver, and so, every day I'm tired, thirsty and hungry from walking the 4 miles or so from the school, and stopping at Nacho's for a pan dulce and Root Beer seemed like a good way to take care of my hunger and thirst pains, but I won't do it again," And I never did, but pan dulce and Root Beers always brings memories of Pops

Sweet After the Rains Smalls

By kiki

I'm at an age where sometimes, no, make that most times, I don't remember what I did yesterday. But I have always had an excellent memory of my childhood and part of my teen years: I like to think of it as a monument to the power of childhood memory. - So I was sitting outside with my dogs and taking in the smell the earth gives after a good rain: there was a dampness in the air and the scent of spring earth with it; it was a smell that, like sounds, and flavors, triggered memories: memories of my childhood and early teen years of smelling: after the rains had come and gone, the sweet smell the red clay that was used to make the Simons Bricks gave. No woman's perfume or man's aftershave lotion can do justice to that after the rain's sweet red clay scent.

Andrew James Baltazar AKA Spiderman

By kiki

This young man is our 4-1/2-year old great-grandson, Andrew James Baltazar. As he is known, A.J was visiting us during the holidays (he lives in Arizona), and during his visit, he was wearing a Spiderman costume. So I thought I would have some fun with him, just like I used to with our kids and grandkids. When our kids and grandkids were small, I used to tell them all kinds of crazy stories. Stories of how I would fight the Indians as a cowboy in the 1880s. And how I was a fighter pilot during WWII, and some other stories too crazy to mention here. 

So I thought this 4 1/2-year-old kid would be a pushover for my crazy stories. I started by telling him that I used to be Spiderman and climb the walls of buildings and walk on rooms ceilings. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "you lie" Smart kid, I said to myself. But, I pushed on, "no, I can really climb the walls and walk on ceilings, and I could do it right now." Again, looking me straight in the eyes, he said, "I dare you" so, I said, okay, "but I'll need to borrow your Spiderman costume to do it" the kid looked at me and said, "you can't" I asked why not and he replied "because I'll be naked" Lol. I think I found my match in this beautiful great-grandson - Love you, Andrew.