Tag Archives: Bob Diaz

Our family vacation, Summer, 1966.

My dad worked hard all his life, but the mines paid just enough for a large family of eight to get by. Mom would have to work too at times, either at one of the local restaurants in town or at the dry cleaners up the street. To make matters even more challenging, Dad loved to gamble at the dog races. He usually came home empty handed, which always created tension between him and my mother.

My mom and dad in the mid-60s.

One day however, in the summer of 1965, his luck changed and he “struck it rich”. I can still remember him rushing into the house, saying, “Josefina, gane’, gane’!” (Josephine, I won, I won!) Soon after, he bought us new bedroom furniture, and had carpeting installed throughout the house. He even bought us a “new” family car, a 1964 Chevy Nova station wagon, just like the one shown below.

Our car looked just like this…

At the time, my sister Becky was in her senior year at Tucson High School, and my brother Rudy was a year behind her, while my other brother Fred and I were both in grade school. My sister Irene was busy being a wife and mother, and my brother Charles was about to complete the first of a four year commitment with the Navy.

My sister Becky’s senior portrait, Tucson High School, 65-66.
My first grade portrait, taken during the 1965-1966 school year. I was six years old.

We took a couple of extended trips in that car, including a visit to Flagstaff in the summer of 1965, where the big annual Pow Wow was held. (I’ll write about that trip another time.)

My brother Freddie standing by our car in Flagstaff, 1965.

The following summer we went on another excursion, this time to California to visit my dad’s and mom’s relatives and to see my brother Charles, who was stationed in Long Beach a the time.

There were six of us on that trip–dad, mom, my cousin Yolanda, Becky my sister, my brother Fred and me.

My cousin Yolanda

Rudy stayed home.

My brother Rudy during his junior year in high school, 65-66.

We drove through the Arizona desert for what seemed an eternity. I’m sure we stopped at various places to eat and whatnot along the way, but I don’t remember exactly where. I do remember, however getting my mom to buy me this postcard. It’s a miracle that it’s survived all my moves over the years and that I still have it. I loved this picture!

We finally made it to our first destination, Needles, California. My parents had lived there for a short while after World War II, and my dad had two brothers who lived there, his older brother Val, who ran a concrete/construction company, and his younger brother Ralph or Failo as we all called him, who worked for Pacific Gas and Electric. Both men had families and were married to some very nice ladies, my aunt Vera and my aunt Armida. Val’s children, Gabriel, Sylvia and Richard were all around the same ages as my older brothers and sisters, but Uncle Failo’s kids were around my age.

We stayed with Uncle Val and his family.

Aunt Vera and Uncle Val, 1966.
My brother Fred and I with one of our cousin Sylvia’s daughters and Richard, Vera and Val’s nephew, standing outside my uncle’s house. I don’t know why we were barefooted. It was 117 degrees. Our feet were burning!

Uncle Val’s kids had left home by the time we visited, but he and Vera raised one of Vera’s nephews, whose name was Richard. His mother, aunt Vera’s sister, had died at a very young age. We got along really well with him.

We also visited Uncle Failo and his family. Our cousins Dante, Clarissa and David were all around our age, and we had a lot of fun playing with them too.

My uncle Failo, Aunt Armida and their children, Danta, Clarissa and David.

Needles is in the middle of the Mohave desert and in the summer it is brutally hot, but the Colorado River runs through the region, and the locals love to go fishing and boating there. When we visited, we spent a day at the river, and I remember catching my very first fish, which we later cooked and ate. Freddie caught one too. I didn’t go too far out into the water. The undercurrents were deadly, and years before, my mother, sister and Aunt Corina almost drowned there. It scared the living daylights out of me.

From Needles, we headed up north to San Jose and San Francisco. My dad’s sister Josie lived in San Jose and my mom’s sister Dora lived in San Francisco.

Aunt Josie had six kids, Armando, Anna, Theresa, Debbie, Steve and Vicki. At the time, she was married to Joe Rubalcaba, whom she’d met in Tucson in the 40s. By the early Sixties, however, they had settled in San Jose. It was fun getting to know my cousins. Steve is closest in age to me and Fred, and we spent a lot of time with him.

We stayed a short while with Aunt Josie, and soon headed up to South San Francisco, where my mom’s sister Dora lived with her husband Armando and her four children, Margie, Richard, Tish, and Susie.

Aunt Dora and Uncle Armando had a house with a garage, and I clearly remember they had a small back yard. She was a bit stricter than my mom. I remember once that I wanted, after eating a nice cool popsicle, one more, and not getting it because she said no, in a very firm voice. I was used to getting my way and was not a happy camper. Oh well. My mother spoiled me, I suppose. I was always crying.

My cousin Susie was my age, and we had fun playing together. I remember seeing a certificate on my aunt’s wall that was given to her for perfect attendance in the first grade. I was impressed because I was always sick!

Susie Sainz

I also remember that Becky and Yolanda stayed up all night once playing Monopoly with our cousin Ricky and that he had all of the Beatles albums and more. Wow. We were in awe of him.

The San Francisco skyline, 1966.

Our tios took us into San Francisco one day to see the city. We went through various parts of town including Chinatown and also to the Haight Ashbury district to see all the young people hanging out. My parents referred to them as “esos heeppies cochinos”. All I remember is a lot of long hair and dirty feet. They weren’t very clean looking to me either. The photo below doesn’t quite capture what I remember seeing, but its from the era. The district was clogged with cars full of people just like us, coming to the Haight Ashbury to gawk at all the kids.

Later, my tios took my parents out on the town. The rest of us didn’t get to go, because they were going to a “topless” place and we were much too young for that. My dad couldn’t wait!

Mom, Dad, Aunt Dora and Uncle Armando out on the town.

My sister Becky sent my brother Rudy this postcard. I’ve kept it all these years. It’s a relic of the times!

After a few days, it was time to head south to go visit our brother Charles, who at the time was stationed in Long Beach. Becky, who had just graduated from high school, had also recently broken up with her boyfriend Eddie. She needed a change of scenery, so my mom and dad let her stay in San Francisco with my aunt and uncle. It was a major life change for her and for all of us, but she was eager to experience life in a different place. She found a job in the city and lived with my aunt and uncle for over a year. She remembers seeing the members of the Grateful Dead practice in a garage up the street from my aunt’s house, and seeing Janis Joplin at the Avalon Ballroom. She got to experience all kinds of great stuff while she lived there. She was lucky, for sure!

I don’t remember a whole lot about our trip to L.A., except that we had a heck of a time finding lodging along the way. We drove for hours before we found a motel that had any vacancies.

Once we were settled in L.A., we also had to figure out how to get to the naval post in Long Beach. We had trouble finding the right turn off on the freeway and we were late, but luckily, I was the one that spotted the street sign that we were supposed to turn off at, and we finally made it. Carlos was not happy, because we were so late, but at least we got to see him.

My brother Charles in 1965.

While in the L.A. area, we went to Culver City to visit my Aunt Vera’s sister and her husband. My Uncle Val and Aunt Vera met us there, and we stayed for a day or two. I remember tasting bottled water for the very first time while there, and that the houses had no fences. The back yards seemed like a giant sea of green grass. I remember too listening to the radio a lot. Songs like “Lil’ Red Riding Hood”, “Summer In The City”, and “Sweet Pea” were very popular at the time.

My mom and dad with Uncle Val, Aunt Vera and Vera’s sister and husband.

We didn’t go anywhere else after our stop in Culver City. Disneyland would have to wait. I remember that the drive home took forever and I also vividly remember hearing the news on the radio that eight student nurses had been recently murdered in Chicago by a guy named Richard Speck, the same day, July 14, that my sister sent the above postcard to my brother Rudy. I was a little kid and stuff like this made me very scared.

Another little memento from our trip…

It felt good to finally be back home. This was the only family vacation that I ever got to go on with my parents, and I’ll always remember it fondly.

As I look back on this time in my life, I realize that I was just a child, with a child’s world view. My life was consumed with spending time with my nieces and friends and consisted of toys and games and bicycles, with playing at the local park and going to school. I didn’t have a clue about what was happening in the world at large. I never thought about why our country was at war in Viet Nam or about the struggle for civil rights and the racial tensions in the American south. I didn’t know why America’s youth were rebelling, or why my brother Charles joined the Navy rather than wait to be drafted. It never occurred to me that the Navy was considered a safer branch of the military than the Army or Marines. Why didn’t he stay in college? These questions were not for me to ask, much less have answers to, and I suppose I’m grateful that I was allowed to be a kid at the time and that my parents took care of me in the best way they knew how. I’m grateful that Charles made it through those four years of the war and that Becky was able to “do her thing” as a young woman. We all managed to survive these years of turmoil and tension, experimentation and change, and I’m forever grateful to my parents for taking us on this little trip. For a seven year old kid like me, it was the trip of a lifetime.

40 Years of Tucson Meet Yourself / Exhibition, September 12, 2013-January 12, 2014

Promotional material by Marty Taylor, University of Arizona Libraries

In the mid-2000s I was a board member of Tucson Meet Yourself. Knowing that the 40th anniversary of the event was coming up, I decided to curate an exhibit on the event. Special Collections is home to the archives of the Southwest Folkore Center, which sponsored Tucson Meet Yourself. There was a wealth of materials to choose from, and it was great fun putting this exhibition together.

From the UA News Service: In celebration of the 40th anniversary of Tucson Meet Yourself, the UA Special Collections is hosting “40 Years of Tucson Meet Yourself” through Jan. 10. The special exhibition, curated by Bob Diaz, offers a retrospective review of the origins, traditions and celebrations that define Tucson Meet Yourself.

A view of the exhibition gallery
A display of Tucson Meet Yourself t-shirts

On display at Special Collections, 1510 E. University Blvd., the exhibition includes decades of posters, newspaper articles, programs, photographs and original documents, such as meeting notes. Also included is a music kiosk and a history of the festival’s annual corrido contest as well as a special profile of Griffith, the festival’s founder who is now retired from the UA.

Curated from the Tucson Meet Yourself Archive in Special Collections, which documents the festival from its first year through 1995, the exhibit also includes select items borrowed from the festival headquarters that were recently relocated to the UA Downtown campus in the Roy Place building. 

A display of recordings by Lydia Mendoza and Lalo Guerrero, two regional musicians who performed at Tucson Meet Yourself

For more information about the 40th anniversary of Tucson Meet Yourself and the exhibition, see the Zocalo article, “Ephemera and Eccentricities”, by Monica Surfaro Spigelman.

Judith Chafee: Iconoclast /Exhibition (2018)

Exhibit curated by Bob Diaz, Special Collections, The University of Arizona Libraries

Promotional material designed by Marty Taylor, University of Arizona Libraries

Monday, January 22, 2018 – 9:00am to Friday, July 6, 2018 – 6:00pm

Special Collections

The University of Arizona Libraries

Introduction:

Putting this exhibit together was a labor of love. I started out knowing very little about local architect, Judith Chafee, but learned a great deal from organizing her papers, which are housed in Special Collections, and working with her assistant, Kathryn McGuire a local architect and co-author of the book, “Powerhouse: The Life and Work of Architect Judith Chafee. As I poured over her work looking for material to include in the exhibition, I came to the realization that Chafee was an artistic genius, well ahead of her time. She was the first woman to graduate from Yale’s architecture program. She finished at the  top of her class, and won prestigious awards along the way. A highlight of the whole experience for me was meeting Chafee’s daughter and granddaughter, who made a special trip to Tucson to see the exhibition. They were very impressed by it. It made me feel just great knowing that they liked it. All that work I had put into this project paid off! Attendance at both of the events that were held in conjunction with the exhibit was beyond my expectations, and both were very well received. This exhibition was one of my favorites.

From the UA News Service:

A remarkable American architect, Judith Chafee was a true trailblazer, both as an architect par excellence, and as a woman in a male-dominated profession. She is celebrated as a visionary modernist whose structures harmoniously blend with their host environments.

This exhibit highlights key events and projects from her life and work. Materials will include photographs, drawings, artwork and more. 

A sample exhibit section
Judith Chafee with one of her many pets
“The Architect: Judith Chafee”, story by KUAZ, available for viewing in the exhibit lobby..

For more information see:

“Judith Chafee: Geographical Powers”. January 23, 2018. Program held in conjunction with the above exhibit.

“Judith Chafee: Breaking Barriers in a Man’s World”. March 13, 2018. Program held in conjunction with the above exhibit.

The Judith Chafee Papers Page–Special Collections, The University of Arizona Libraries

The Judith Chafee Papers Collection Guide

Powerhouse: The LIfe and Work of Judith Chafee

Christopher Domin and Kathryn McGuire, authors

“Powerhouse is the first book on the singular life and career of American architect Judith Chafee (1932-1998). Chafee was an unrepentant modernist on the forefront of sustainable design. Her architecture shows great sensitivity to place, especially the desert landscapes of Arizona. Chafee was also a social justice advocate and a highly respected woman in a male-dominated profession. After graduating from the Yale University Architecture School, where her advisor was Paul Rudolph, she went on to work in the offices of legends including Rudolph, Walter Gropius, Eero Saarinen, and Edward Larrabee Barnes. In addition to her architectural legacy, her decades of teaching helped shape a generation of architects. Chafee’s drawings and archival images of her work are complemented by stunning photography by Ezra Stoller and Bill Timmerman”. –from the Princeton Architectural Press site.

It was very nice of Kathy McGuire to mention me in the acknowledgements section (see below) of the book. I learned a great deal from her during our visits, and without her guidance the exhibition would not have been as informative and interesting as it turned out to be.

La Familia de Antonio Díaz Palácios

Antonio Díaz Palácios

My paternal grandfather, Antonio Díaz Palácios, (1885-1954), was a native of Asturias, Spain.

This is one of several versions of the Diaz family coat of arms. I found this one at the Spanish History Museum in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Asturias, Spain.
Coat of Arms of the Municipality of Morcin, Asturias, Spain.

To learn more about the Kingdom of Asturias, way back in the “olden days”, see this article, titled, “The Asturian Kingdom: Chroniclers and Kings, 791-910”, by Roger Collins, from the book, Caliphs and Kings: Spain, 796-1031, published by Wiley, 2012.

This is a map of the region known as Morcin, which is directly to the south of Oviedo. My grandfather was born in a region (or parish) called San Sebastian de Morcin. It is on the lower left side of the map.

His parents were Josefa Palácios and Valentin Díaz. Valentin’s parents, my great-great grandparents, were Raymundo Fernandez Díaz and Maria Garcia. My grandfather had several siblings, including Soledad Díaz Palacios, Natalia Díaz Palácios,  Rosita Díaz, Alfredo Díaz, Elvira Díaz and Belarma Díaz.

My great-great grandparents, Maria Garcia and Raymundo Díaz Fernández.
The house in San Sebastian de Morcín, where my grandfather was born.
Another view of my grandfather’s house.
La Carbayosa, the church in San Sebastian de Morcin.

My grandfather was born in 1885, at a time when Spain’s influence and strength as a world power were well on the wane. In the early 1900’s, King Alfonso XIII hoped to gain back Spain’s prestige as a world power, as it had recently suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the US in the Spanish-American War. Flexing its military muscle once again, Spain went to  war with Morocco (called the 2nd Rif War) to secure control of Morocco’s mineral wealth. Thousands of young working class Spanish men were drafted as conscripts, while their richer brethren were able to pay their way out of service. It was a bloody war, and many, many lives were lost. This did not sit well with the Spanish people.  According to one source, “in 1909, troops embarked for Morocco protested the inequalities of military service. A general strike was proclaimed at Barcelona and other Catalonian cities …” It appears that the people of Asturias felt the same way about the war, and like thousands of other young men who left Asturias during the early twentieth century, my grandfather came to North America  to avoid  induction into the Spanish Army. He set sail to the Americas from the port of Gijon at the age of 21, never to return to his place of birth.

Port of Gijon, Asturias, Spain

My grandfather’s ship landed in Havana, Cuba in 1906, but after a short period of time, he decided that he did not like it there, as it was under U.S. occupation and there was tension in the air.  He landed in Veracruz and worked in the shipyards there for a short while.

The port of Havana
Mexico.
My grandfather and his cousin Emilio Palacio are on this list of immigrant arrivals into Texas and Arizona. They are 4th and 5th from the bottom.

By 1907, however, he made his way to the United States, and ended up in the Clifton-Morenci region, working in the mines there. One day my grandfather got into an argument with a bully, who demanded my grandfather give him a cigar, and when my grandfather didn’t comply, he started a fight with him, and he lunged at my grandfather with a knife, barely missing his body. My grandfather grabbed a pool cue and hit the man over the head with it, knocking him out cold.

Clifton, Az. overlooking the river.

Fearing for his life and thinking that he killed the man, my grandfather fled south to Mexico, ending up in Zacatecas, where he worked in the silver mines.

Around 1912, my grandfather  met my grandmother, Zeferina Torres Gallegos(1895-1939), a native of the state of Zacatecas. My father said she was from Sombrerete, although others in the family thought she was from the capital of Zacatecas, also called Zacatecas, which is supposedly where they met. I recently discovered their marriage certificate:

Here’s a song about the beautiful city, Zacatecas, Zacatecas.

I’ve also recently discovered additional documentation. Zeferina’s father’s name was Blas Torres Perez. His parents were Seberiano Torres and Diega Perez. They also had other children including Dionisio, Maria, Longinas, Juana, and Nicolas. They baptized Blas on February 4, 1866 at San Matias, Pinos, Zacatecas.

La Parroquia de San Mateos, Pinos, Zacatecas, where my great great grandfather Blas Torres Perez was baptized in 1866.

Blas married Matiana Gallegos in Pinos, Zacatecas on May 10, 1884. He was 18 (b. 1866) and she was only 13. Matiana’s mother’s name was Feliciana Gallegos.

My grandmother had at least two siblings, Epigmenia Simon Torres Gallegos, and Gabina Torres, who died in infancy. Not much else is known about my grandmother’s  early life, except that she was from a Spanish family and had a sister who likely moved north to the US as some point. My hunch is that my grandmother was born in Pinos, Zacatecas, as that is where her parents married and the location of her brother Epigmenia Simon’s grave. He died on November 28, 1986 at the age of 85.

Here’s one of a handful of songs about Zacatecas.

Pinos, Zacatecas was likely my grandmother’s place of birth.

My aunt Josie tried very hard to find out more about our grandmother, even going so far as to travel to Zacatecas to find out anything she could about her. She came up with nothing, unfortunately. It didn’t help that she had the names of her grandparents wrong. My grandmothers birth certificate indicates that her parents names were Florentina Garcia and Jose Torres. Not true.

My grandmother Zeferina Diaz Torres.

 The Mexican Revolution hit Zacatecas in 1912, and my grandparents moved to San Luis Potosi where they were married at San Pedro, Cerro de San Pedro, San Luis Potosi (San Luis Potosi) on March 26, 1912. My uncle Raul Diaz was born there the following year, in 1913.

Raul Diaz’s baptism record.

In 1915, my grandfather was a payroll manager at the mine at which he worked. One early morning, he found a gun pointed in his face. It was the revolutionaries, demanding money. They took it, along with my grandmother’s wedding dress and other valuables, and left him with these words, “Que no salga el sol, Diaz”…which meant you better be gone by the time the sun comes up!

Here’s a song about the Battle of Zacatecas. My grandparents were in Mexico at the time, and this battle, the bloodiest of the Mexican Revolution, took place just west of where they lived at the time.

San Pedro, Cerro de San Pedro, San Luis Potosi, Mexico, the likely place of my grandparents wedding.

At that point, my grandparents decided to leave Mexico for good. They entered the U.S. through the El Paso port of entry in 1915.

The El Paso Port of Entry in the early 1900’s.

They soon made their way to central Arizona, a region rich in copper mining and jobs. They settled in Ray-Sonora, and lived there for several years. They were one of a handful of Spanish immigrant families living there. Two of my uncles, Valentin and Belarmino, were born in Ray. Valentin was born on March 8, 1917 and Belarmino’s date of birth was February 7, 1919.

Antonio and Zeferina Diaz with their children Raul, Valentin and Belarmino, 1919.
Ray-Sonora, Az.
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My grandparents portrait in a brand new frame, May 23, 2020. I had the original photo restored several years ago.

After a few years spent working in the mines, my grandfather fell ill with miner’s consumption, a debilitating lung condition. He left mining behind, and moved his young family to the Verde Valley  region of northern Arizona, where he started a dairy farm. My dad grew up working the fields, fishing and delivering milk to the neighboring communities. What a different life it must’ve been! For a quick, historical overview of the region, see the following description: Irrigation in the Verde Valley

The Verde Valley.

During this period, from 1920 to 1936, five more Diaz children, including my father, Alfred T. Diaz, were born and raised in and around Camp Verde. While the Great Depression made it difficult for the family, they got by somehow, even if it meant moving again and again.

1926. Camp Verde schoolchildren, including my dad Alfred and his brother Mino. Both are kneeling on the far left.
The Verde Valley region, where my father was born (Jerome) and raised.
My grandfather managed the UVX Dairy, located in Bridgeport, in the Twenties. I only recently found a photo of this milk container.
1930 Census

Meantime, in the mid to late 30’s, back in Spain, the Spanish Civil War was taking place, and the Republican forces fought some heavy battles against the nationalist fascist forces in my grandfather’s home state of Asturias. The following song, “Asturias” depicts some of the actual footage of the Spanish Civil War. I included it here primarily because the tune is so beautiful. The words are bittersweet when combined with the film footage. (For more information about what is known as the “Asturias Offensive” see this article from Wikipedia).

Around this time, my grandfather moved from the Verde Valley up to Flagstaff and then to Superior, a mining town just south of Globe, where he  went back to work in the mines. Along the way, many of his cattle died from the cold, and my dad told me once that cholera had infected other livestock, killing them all off. The Great Depression hit the family hard. One day, my father remembered that our grandfather had gone to the bank to withdraw money, only to find the doors locked and shuttered. He lost practically everything he had.

In 1938, my grandfather’s cousin, Emilio Palacios, who owned a bar in Clemenceau, Az, passed away, within a year or two after his own wife’s passing. My grandfather adopted his nine children and took care of them. Below is an article that appeared in the Arizona Republic in 1938.

The Superior mine smelter.
Superior, Az.

By this time, my grandparents had nine children of their own–Raul, Valentin, Belarmino, Alfredo, Antonio, Rafael, Josefina, Helen and Carmen. Having so many children to care for, and moving so much took its toll on my  grandmother. She contracted uterine cancer, and died shortly after the family moved to Superior. She is buried in the cemetary there.

My grandmother’s death certificate. The names of her parents were noted incorrectly, and it took many, many years to realize this. Her real parents were Blas Torres Perez and Matiana Gallegos.
my grandmother is buried in cemetery in Superior, Az. I took this photo back in the 1970s sometime.
1940 Census
Tata and some of his children, including Tony, Josie, Carmen, Helen and Alfredo.
My grandfather and his children, Superior, circa 1940.
My grandfather Antonio with some of his children, including Ralph, Josie, Helen and Carmen. I don’t know who the two smallest girls are.

My grandfather had his hands full after grandmother died. His youngest two daughters, Helen and Carmen, were well below the age of 10. As luck would have it, he met a lady named Angelita, a widow with children of her own. They decided to marry, and remained together until my grandfather died in 1954.

My grandfather and his second wife, Angelita. They were both widowed. Angelita’s first husband, Francisco Ramirez, died in 1941, and my grandmother Zeferina Torres died in 1939. Angelita and Antonio both had several children when they married in the early 1940s, so their household was packed with kids. They were together for over 12 years, until my grandfather’s death in 1954.
Nana Angie with my sister Irene. Angie was her nina. circa 1945.

In the late 40s my grandfather moved his family to Tucson. My dad says he had rented ranches in various places around town, including on Silver Lake Rd. near the Santa Cruz River, up in the Sabino Canyon area by the Rillito River, and also on the other side of town at a ranch formerly known as the Sotomayor Ranch, near River Rd and Oracle Rd.

1950 Census
Nana Angie with one of the family cows.
Aunt Helen and the kids on the ranch
My sister Becky and brothers Charles and Rudy at Tata’s ranch, around 1951-52.
Nana Angie, my brother Charles, and my Mom, taking a break…

My four oldest brothers and sisters grew up going to the ranch with my mom and dad on the weekends. Mom loved being there and used to tell us how much she enjoyed spending time with our Nana Angie and our Tata, making tortillas outside, cooking food and sleeping under the stars at night. She would also love to tell us how our Tata would get my brother Carlos to help him milk the cows, and that he sometimes he would squirt milk straight from the cow right into his mouth. Becky says that Tata would get a little tipsy sometimes and get up on a table and dance flamenco, and he would point at all his grandchildren, saying to them, “ustedes son Espanoles!” My sister Irene also fondly recalls our Tata driving her back and forth to school at St. Peter and Paul Elementary school when she was a little girl. He would also sell vegetables that he bought at a discount from the local grocery chains to the people in the poorer sections of town more often than not giving it away to those who could not afford it. He was quite a guy. My brothers and sisters all spoke fluent Spanish as kids. I’m sure he had a lot to do with it. Wish I had known him. I was five years too late!

My father, Alfredo Diaz, at the ranch.
My mom Josephine with my grandfather in the early 50s.
The Arizona Daily Star, October 20, 1953. Selling off the last of the livestock. The move to the house on Riverview was about to happen.

My grandfather  moved one last time to a house just north of Speedway on Riverview. He spent his last days there, and died on December 8, 1954. He was 69 years old. He’s buried in Superior, next to his wife Zeferina.

My grandfather’s obituary, Arizona Daily Star, December 10, 1954
The children of Antonio and Zeferina Diaz, circa 1961. Top row: Valentin, Carmen, Helen, Josephine, Raul. Seated: Alfredo, Rafael, Antonio Jr., and Belarmino.
The next generation of Diaz family members at a gathering in Superior in the mid-70s.
Nana Angie lived a long time. She never left the house on Riverview.