1984 Ethics Paper

IN THE SHADOWS OF THE FREEWAY Growing Up Brown & Queer

Lydia R. Otero

l'LANF.T £ARlfH f'RF.SS

Copyrighted Materia l

Chapter2

More than an Address on a Map

T he newly formed Otero family set up a household on 22nd Street

near 10th Avenue late in 1940. 1 Santa Rosa Park had recently been

built catty-corner across the street from their new rental home,

which was within walking distance of la calle.i It also had a large yard. Chita's

daughter Anita came to idolize Daniel and rarely related to her biological

father. In 1940, the family also welcomed a new addition, Rita, who arrived

around Christmas and was named after my maternal grandmother. Rita's birth

certificate listed my father's occupation as "common laborer" and my mother

as a "housewife." Although my mother would have preferred staying at home

and tending to her family, she would not be able to do so until decades later.

Chita had moved numerous times as a child and as an adult, and she knew

the hardships faced by renters. Her growing family also amplified the need for

stability. It is not a stretch to consider that the steady stream of new arrivals in

Tucson and the city's swarming residential expansion also made her anxious

to have a home base. After Rita's birth, Chita started investigating affordable

homeownership options.

The home my parents built on Farmington Road in 1941 was located in

a barrio that city leaders overlooked, where residents worked for low wages.

Public investments to ensure a better quality of life, such as sewers, paved

roads, and even running water, went to the recent arrivals who lived in the

burgeoning suburbs. In their efforts to control flooding in other parts of town,

public officials diverted rushing waters through our Kroeger Lane barrio. The

fact that our house had concrete floors and that couches and other furniture sat

on bricks that kept them raised above the floor were not based on my parents'

design choices. Until I was about nine, when it rained heavily, water ran into

and throughout the house. It entered through our kitchen door, flowed through

the small dining/living room, and exited the front door. I recall once standing

on the sofa and rooting for a long thin snake that tried to fight the current

before it too got swept outside.

Figure 2.1 Unpaved road in Barrio Kroeger Lane, early 19 70s. From

Margarita Artschwager Kay, "Health and Illness in the Barrio: Women's

Point of View" (PhD diss., University of Arizona, 1972), p. 54

Building the House on Farmington

In 19 40, 22nd Street ended at the railroad tracks. The greenery along the Santa

Cruz River remained visible to those looking west toward A Mountain because

the freeway had not yet been built. The open space must have seemed like

paradise to Chita, who held many fond memories of this part of town. Much of

the area was dedicated to rural livestock and farming, which she recognized as

having its own charm. Corridors of native trees lined the Santa Cruz River, and

she attended many outings and picnics there. Owning a home close to the river

after which she and her grandmother had been named also had appeal.

Amenities were moving outward from la calle toward A Mountain and the

Santa Cruz River in 1940. For example, Howard Lee established a market

on 11th Avenue near 21st Street that served the needs of the surrounding

community. 1 His was one of many small, independent markets owned by

Chinese Americans, which filled a business niche, dedicating themselves to

serving barrio residents' needs. Wong B. Lim, Wing Lee, Sew Kee, and Wing

Yen are only a few of the names of barrio markets that thrived after World

War II.1 Howard Lee named his store Westside Market because it stood west

of downtown at an intersection that was once considered to be the city's

outskirts. (We called the store Puertas Azules because of the double bright-

blue doors that graced its entrance.) The geographical remoteness of the west

side contributed to lower rents and cheaper land prices . Only neighborhoods to

the west and south of downtown remained hospitable and affordable to brown

people. Neighborhoods located to the east of downtown, near the university,

and beyond were considered more prestigious places to live. Prices, as well as

restrictive racial attitudes, kept brown people on "their" side oftown. 2

While stationed overseas in World War II, Daniel sent Chita money. They

saved enough to purchase a large tract of land at 1400 South Farmington Road,

which was a rural part of Tucson in 1941. Early documents indicate that the

newly carved-out rustic road, located close to the Santa Cruz River, was initially

referred to as an extension of South Mission Road . A few years after my mother

bought the land, the street name was changed to Farmington, reflecting the

agricultural activity of most of the residents. A few lots away from the property

my mother purchased, an enterprising gardener made a living selling zinnias,

marigolds, and fresh corn. ~ Farmington Road ran past 22nd for another five

blocks, almost reaching Congress Street, and discussions about running a

freeway through this area had not yet begun.

Although my parents could afford the lot, they lacked the funds to build

a house. Ever resourceful, Chita came up with a plan. After purchasing the

large two-acre undeveloped lot on Farmington and 24th Street, she began

to investigate how to subdivide it. She kept the prime rectangular lot and

sold another portion to pay for the costs of building her home. Chita gave

the remaining triangular lot behind ours, which sat closest to the arroyo, to

her sister Licha in exchange for labor in helping to build our home. Because

of an earlier leg injury, Licha's husband, Tony, was one of the few local

men not fighting in the war overseas. He had worked in construction and

knew the fundamentals involved in building a new structure. He directed the

construction crew, which consisted of Chi ta, four of her sisters, and Grandmita.

In exchange for their labor, my mother allowed everyone to live there for free.

• r

WISE BUYERS TURN TO •

70 13

flee.

ACREAGE acres, Mission Road. $20 an acre. acres. St. lbrr• Road, a •acn-

20 acres, acre.

East Ith S.treet. S300 an

MYRICK REAI,!I'Y COMPANY •

933 E. Broadway. Phone 014

Figure 2.2 This 19 3 7 advertisement is an example of the disparate pricing of land

in Tucson. Property on the south side's Mission Road sold for $20 an acre, while

property on the city's east side sold for $300 an acre. Star, January 12, 193 7, p. 13

During this time, about ten family members, including my two sisters (seven

and two years old then) and Licha and Tony, all lived on the construction

site, sheltering under the ramadas they had made. They dug a deep hole

for an outhouse and a well for water, and they used the dirt from these

projects to make adobe bricks in the large yard. After the blocks dried, they

constructed a large adobe room. This single-room structure represented a huge

accomplishment. Chita now owned a home. Everyone moved into the large

room, and Licha and Tony then concentrated on building their own new house

on the back lot that my mother had gifted them. Licha and Tony's willingness

to support Chita's plan, and her ability to work with city officials when

it came to the complexities involved with subdividing property, resulted in

homeownership for all of them .

Figure 2.3 Jose Luis (front right) looks to be around four years old, so this photo was

probably taken in 19 5 O. The children are standing in front of the adobe home built by

Chita and her family. The porch had not yet been added. Private collection of author

When my father returned from the war, he had to put up with living with my

grandmother and her youngest three children. At that time, Chita embarked on

another home renovation project. In 1945, she filed the paperwork to secure

a building permit to add two additional rooms to their home. A short article

in the Citizen reported her efforts, although the newspaper incorrectly stated

that my mother intended to build a new home. 1 The family added to the main

adobe structure they had previously built. Chita estimated the cost for the new

concrete block additions to be $2,500.

In the meantime, the family kept growing. My eldest brother, Daniel

(nicknamed Junior), had arrived while my father was overseas in 1942. My

brother Jose Luis (named after our grandfather Pa' Luis) was born in 1946,

one year after my mother began her second construction project. My brother

Ernesto (Pepo) arrived in 1948. I would arrive seven years later. My father,

who worked for the City of Tucson as a laborer, was the family's primary

breadwinner. His 19 5 0 Internal Revenue Service withholding statement

indicates that he earned less than $3,000 for the year, so in between having

children, my mother always needed to work outside the home . .a Through

the years, my family managed to add three more rooms to our house on

Farmington. It ended up having three small bedrooms, and the original adobe

structure became the living room, remaining the largest room in the house.

My parents added a porch sometime in the late 19 sos and a carport in the late

19 60s when my brother Pepo bought a car and saved enough money to pay for

its construction.

The Bypass That Became Interstate 10

My family home was one of many that made up Barrio Kroeger Lane. After

the war, more than 2 5 0 homes were scattered throughout this barrio. It was

not a planned subdivision of square lots with orderly corners and streets. Like

my parents, most residents had invested their sweat and labor into building

their own homes. While growing up, I did not know that the barrio received

its name from Clarence Kroeger, a physician who lived in the neighborhood

and who tended to its residents. His dedication to poor people and his

willingness to aid those in need at all hours of the night became legendary. He

also delivered babies and allowed his patients to pay him with poultry, other

livestock, and produce. To most residents, Kroeger Lane was a place where we

felt a sense of belonging and where everyone knew everyone else who lived

there. But by 19 70, this barrio was relatively isolated, and a local newspaper

described Barrio Kroeger Lane residents as "trapped in a backwater where there

is inadequate fire protection, insufficient street lighting, poor sewer facilities

and too-high taxes." 2. Eight years later, the same paper described this barrio as

"stuck between a rock-'A Mountain'-and a hard place-the freeway-where

residents live rural lives with memories of recent seasonal flooding and no city

improvements. 111Q

My family and most of the others who built their homes on Farmington

Road never imagined they would need to contend with the issues and

problems introduced by a freeway. At City Hall, however, what began as

muted rumblings about a new truck route held grave consequences for the

neighborhood. Tucked away in a brief paragraph, the local paper reported that

discussions about building a truck route had been brought up in a Tucson City

Council meeting as early as 19 3 8. The city planning commission had proposed

that the route be built parallel to the Santa Cruz River on its east bank, which

is where Barrio Kroeger Lane sat. The council balked at the costs involved in

such a project and tabled the issue. ll At that time in 1938, city agencies and

commissions could have engaged in precautionary measures to protect barrio

residents. They could have frozen new property transactions and squelched

any new construction in that area or simply issued a warning. This type of

forethought would have saved my parents and many other families much

future distress.

In 1945, at about the same time that Chita had gotten approval from the

building department for the new addition to her home, the conversation

about a new truck route resurfaced. This time, the federal government had

earmarked funds for the construction of truck freeways, and local officials

jumped at the chance to acquire these resources. 12 By 19 4 7, the proposed

highway, which targeted Farmington Road, had been deliberated, and those

aligned with tourism and development demanded action. Referring to the

future freeway as a "truck bypass," an editorial in the Citizen dismissed

opposition to the new route as "foolish" and reminded readers that the bypass

would "clear Stone Avenue [a busy street downtown] of existing heavy and

dangerous truck traffic." Similar to other episodes in Tucson's history, cashing

in on federal monies also provided a strong enticement: "Federal money for

this necessary truck highway already appropriated will be spent elsewhere in

Arizona, if immediate action is not taken and Tucson will be robbed of this

essential improvement." ll

The mayor at the time, E. T. "Happy" Houston, cited environmental factors,

such as heavy traffic, fires, and even explosions, as reasons for diverting

traffic from downtown to the proposed freeway. ll Considerations that it

would expose westside residents who lived near the new route to ''heavy and

dangerous traffic" never surfaced, however. Growing up so close to the freeway,

I and my family heard many explosions. The screeching of brakes, heard in

every room throughout our home, unpredictably any time of the day or night,

was quite jarring. Semi trucks skidding in the rain and falling over the rails were

also common occurrences .

Despite efforts from businesses and residents who lived on or near the

proposed truck bypass in 1949, city officials secured the green light to

move forward. The Chamber of Commerce approved of the route because its

members considered the homes located in our barrio as having what they

called "low condemnation values." The mayor, city planners, and engineers

talked about the area of the proposed route as vacant. ll For the record, 150

homes stood in its path. By August 1949, the city, in its quest to acquire

the right-of-way, had purchased 131 properties. Early projections based on

assessed property values had allotted $850,000 to buy the properties to ensure

a right-of-way for the bypass. The city acquired 6 homes by condemning them

and declaring them uninhabitable and secured the other 13 with "relatively

little trouble," according to the Citizen. When only 10 homes remained to

be purchased, the newspaper boasted that the city had only spent $550,000,

which indicates that city negotiators had appraised and paid residents far less

than their properties' value. ll

. . . '

We, who have homes in the path of the

proposed Freeway, hereby plead with

you voters of Tucson not to deprive us of

our homes. You will realize that we can-

not move or buy a place to live anywhere

for the amount we will receive for our

homes.

PLEASE VOTE NO ON THE FREEWAY!

Figure 2.4 This full -page advertisement also included the names of

ninety individuals and their addresses . Citizen, June 7, 1948, p. 2 5

FARI\IIINGTO ROAD FARl\lllNGTON ROAD MESA STREET 1 Lydia Lopez 814 B.R Vidt1urri 608 A.O. O lg uin 2 A.E. More no 816 Franci sco Pesque'-ra 609 Robert Loya 3 Arturo Tay lor 821 Eduardo Pesq ueira 609 M.M. Noriega 4 l3.S. Avila 825 Jo se Alvarez 611 Je sus Estrada 5 M . Sanr hn 835 Rnmo n M. Marti n ez 611 Vicent e Hern an d ez 41 H. Clarkson 838 .J. r. ~fo rtin ez 618 M rs. P.L. F lores 46 A.O. · liranda 840 O. Mora les 622 F.S. Soto 48 J .R. 'Barcelo 900 Mrs . R C. 623 l\•I.C. Lo)'3 66 Mrs . f.R. Vnleniu ela 624 A.G. Robll's

Pl'squiera 930 F. R. Rico 625 A.$. Corra l 86 \ . Archer 946 under constr uction 626 ,Josr Bejarano 102 John F. McGill 990 Je sus Cas tel de Or o 629 RS.Duran 149 l,..J. l,,andero s 999 R.M . Ar rh1ga 630 M.M . Pl's queira 409 J.C . Chavez 1000 F.M . Ht'rron PEAK TREET .u s M. 1. Sa lazar 1003 Jesus R. Grad illa s 620 'at.alia Duartt' 501 Rivers ide Grocery 1090 Tito M . Ga larza 624 Mr s. Rosa 512 A.M. T r ejo 1100 A.F. Navare tt e Pacheco 515 M.R. Bojorqut' z 1102 J .R. uiiez 636 Luis Pac heco 563 Mr s. T.G. Coronado 1106 M rs. M . Va lencia 636 Amelia Ramir ez 567 fr. C.LSo to 1108 F. Pedroza CEDAR STREET 570 J.B. Lopn 1110 Jose Boca negro 1220 E.M.Ar mrnta 608 Ju lian B. Navnrrette 1115 Frnnk r b ino 1223 Tere sa Arm ijo 608 Chalotta Navarrette 1115 Mrs. Concepcion 1235 E. Ke Uy 612 C.H. Raba go Urbi n a 1235 B.Bru.mley 6 14 Rafae l P~)'rOn 1115 Fra nci~o Ta pia 1305 A. Redmo n 616 Ynocencio Mayora l 1115 Eugenio Mendez

CLARK STREET 618 Juan Loya 1115 Mrs . Cr ui Me ndez 628 J . Herna nd ez 1117 R.A. Palomino 606 Santi.ago Bur ru el

638 E. Y. Grijal va 1117 Or alia Pa lomino 606 Juana Burruel

650 Jose N. Urq uid es 1121 Cleo Sanchez 651 Rnm on Ben itez

650 J ulia V. r q uid es 1125 Jose Cochrmea 632 Rodo lfo Leon

651 M.B. Dua 11e 1131 .rose Wich apa 646 Amalia Quiroz

700 Mr s. l\f . Romero 1143 G. 'loli na 646 Fr ed Qu iroz 735 S . .M. Pi neda 1145 Rafae l Felix 730 S.C. Guillen 1219 L. V. Castro 740 A.R. Ga llardo 1343 En rique R. Olt'.n 744 Con cepcion 1345 Br igida R. O lra

Bojorq uez 1400 Danie l Otero 747 Manue l M . 1400 Crta Otero

G uiterrez 1303 G.E. Zosn 747 Refugia Guiterrez 1331 G. V. Mendi v il 802 Robert V. Marti n ez 1415 Jose Nevar es 809 Reye s P . Smirc z 1440 Man u el Fraijo 811 T. Madril 1508 S.M. Trujillo

Figure 2.5 Using the "Please Vote NO on the Freeway" advertisement and the 1948

telephone directory, the author compiled this list of residents who lived in or near

the freeway's path and who opposed it running through their neighborhood.

The negotiators were under pressure to quickly acquire these properties.

The president of the Tucson Real Estate Board even offered to send volunteers

to speed up the process. Negotiators made it clear to property owners that

condemnation proceedings would be initiated against those who were slow

to agree. According to the newspaper, "Under state law, the city can take

possession as soon as it files suit and posts bond. The damages can be set by the

courts later." 17 Our house on Farmington Road did not stand in the freeway's

path, and the city did not offer to purchase it.

The Bypass

In 19 5 0, Tucson began taking bids for the portion of the truck route that

would divert traffic from downtown . The first segment was completed at the

end of 1952, and the San Xavier Rock and Sand Company, which specialized

in concrete construction, built the section of the bypass that ran through our

neighborhood. At this time, the freeway was situated at street level. It was

about 400 feet wide, consisting of two lanes in each direction, with an extra-

wide median strip separating the northbound and southbound roads. Those

who planned the original four-lane freeway were considering future needs,

and the bypass was actually a system made up of access roads for the new

high-speed, elevated roadway . The engineers knew that the nation's and the

city's increasing dependence on automobiles and fossil fuels would mean more

traffic and more lanes. ll Thus in 1952, the freeway's future expansion stood at

the core of planners' designs. li

In the first two months after the new freeway opened, twelve accidents

took place, ranging from cars being rear-ended to trucks overturning. 2.2 Other

accidents awaited because the freeway was initially built on the same level as

the surrounding neighborhoods. Both my sisters recall crossing the freeway

often in its early years, despite the cars and trucks traveling at high speed. In an

effort to impress tourists, city officials had gone as far as beautifying the center

strip of the highway by planting trees and grass. With no nearby recreation

areas, children from our barrio, including my sisters, found the greenery and

park-like setting enticing, and they used the strip that divided the highway as a

playground and gathering spot. A map of a "typical express highway" prepared

under the direction of Andre M. Faure, who led the city and county planning

office, reveals that planners were oblivious to the dangers posed to children

who lived near the new freeway. Faure's plan to meet the city's transportation

and development needs clearly did not prioritize human lives and safety.

j l!:===== :!!

t J

Figure 2.6 Many of the homes (indicated by dots) destroyed

to make room for the freeway and for future commercial

and industrial purposes were located on Farmington

Road . The three dots with a white core are the only ones

that remained standing in 2019. Map by author

.. " - ')

Figure 2. 7 This early drawing, prepared by the city and county

planning department under the direction of Andre M. Faure, indicates

that officials deemed it appropriate to locate parks and playgrounds

adjacent to the freeway . The local newspaper printed this image and

described the design as "a typical express highway, such as proposed

for high speed access to the heart of Tucson." Star, June 12, 1944, p. 3

Figure 2.8 The bypass (freeway) when it was at street level, around 19 5 8.

This photo is from a display of the El Paso and Southwestern Greenway,

a multi use path for bicyclists and pedestrians in Tucson.

The Holiday Inn

My mother's last job was in 1960: she was a maid at the Holiday Inn located on

the west side of the freeway, three blocks away from our house on Farmington.

In 19 5 7, Holiday Inns of America had paid $ 6 5 ,000 for seven acres north of our house and built a million-dollar motor hotel for tourists and others traveling by

automobile near the proposed 22nd Street off-ramp. 21

Before the bypass, Farmington Road ran through the proposed Holiday Inn

construction site, and many homes lined both sides of the street. The city

agents who had appraised the homes and negotiated with the original owners

had lowballed the property values. After the city purchased and demolished

the homes, it sold or auctioned off the properties to encourage commercial

development. The new property owners purchased these large tracts of land

from the city, and in 19 5 7, when Holiday Inn became interested in building a

motel in Tucson, the new owners reaped the $65,000 by selling to the hotel

corporation.

The motel opened in 19 5 9. If you stepped outside the front fence of our

house and looked down the street, you could see its large neon sign. It provided

employment to my mother, my aunts Mincy, Mercy, and Delia, a few cousins,

and other women in our barrio. A pay stub from 1960 indicates that Chita

earned $1 an hour when she worked at the Holiday Inn.

Water Issues

The arroyo forming the boundary of the original lot that my mother purchased

in 19 41 ran toward and drained into the nearby Santa Cruz River. It was part of

what would become known as the Julian Wash, although it was dry for most of

the year. Water flowed in the arroyos that made up this wash only during heavy

rains, and it did not cause problems for the people who lived in our barrio.

However, the ever-expanding Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, located more than

six miles from our neighborhood, needed to address a problem with water

flooding its airstrips whenever heavy rains arrived. In the late 1940s, the city

devised a plan to divert the surplus water from the air force base to the Santa

Cruz River. The city and federal governments teamed up to construct a seven-

mile flood diversion channel to funnel the water in a southwesterly direction.

The newly excavated waterways near Davis-Monthan were designed to connect

to the Julian Wash .ll

In 1952, when the project was completed, the arroyo located behind our

house could not handle the new quantities of water, and it overflowed in

all directions. Water ran through our home and all the other homes on

Farmington Road. Flooding in this neighborhood persisted until waterways

associated with the Julian Wash were deepened, widened, and coated with

concrete in the 1960s. Eventually, water was channeled into a retention basin

closer to the river about a mile south of our house near 12th Avenue south

of Silverlake Road.ll Until then, people and cars were often swept away in the

unsafe washes on our side of town. At nine years old, I witnessed my tio Tony

use an extension cord to save a man hanging onto a tree branch for dear life in

the rapidly moving water.

Despite these types of calamities, my parents did not pick up and move.

They considered acquiring land and building their home to be a significant life

accomplishment. It provided their family with a stability not easily acquired

by people in their social class, and it was a major financial investment. After

a rainstorm, when the subsequent flooding subsided, they quietly brought

out the brooms, disconnected and pulled out the stove and other appliances,

moved beds and furniture, and started cleaning up. As a small child, I had to

join in by picking up the tangled, often unidentifiable refuse that had gotten

caught in the cracks of the floor, or had wrapped itself around table legs, or was

lodged underneath the couch. My family's endurance of these types of hardship

exemplify how race and class became inscribed in our barrio because elected

officials and administrators felt comfortable ignoring the environmental

injustices. Although my parents and other families in our barrio were investing

in the city through paying property and other taxes, the city was not equally

investing in them. This inequity was compounded further by the fact that my

parents, like many other brown families with an enduring historical presence

in Tucson, had spent their lives and labor in helping to build the city that was

so blatantly ignoring their needs.

In 19 51, city officials had approved the construction of subdivisions on the

east side, such as Wilmot Desert Estates. They devoted resources and approved

the delivery of utilities and services to this new housing development near

Speedway and Wilmot, about ten miles east of downtown. But residents of

Barrio Kroeger Lane, located only a mile from downtown, still needed to rely

on wells for water. Thus, in 19 51, my parents and twenty-eight other property

owners came together to voice their concerns about not having water delivered

to their homes. The petitioners claimed that all the water in their area "now

comes from shallow wells and seems to be high in bacteria count." Outhouse

waste seeping into the soil and finding its way into the water table accounted

for this contamination. The barrio residents and petitioners also expressed

concern that the lowering water table in their neighborhood had caused some

wells to dry out. ll

After this item appeared in the newspaper, city officials granted the

residents' request and delivered water to our barrio. The lowering water table,

however, had grave consequences for the Kroeger Lane residents. When I was

a child, our backyard had many fruit trees and a milpa (garden) that provided

us with a variety of seasonal vegetables. We had grapes whose vines attached

themselves to trellises, added to the greenery, and made for a cool and inviting

outside space. We had a chicken coop, and I often accompanied my mother

when she collected the eggs in the mornings. Unfortunately, I also witnessed

my grandmita slaughter chickens by grabbing them by the head and swinging

them in circles in the air. Although it was horrifying to watch, I could not look

away because her actions were so quick and effective. Roosters would crow at

all hours because everyone on Farmington Road had chickens, which freely

roamed the neighborhood and even jumped fences.

By 1973, when I left for college, nothing grew in our yard. The bushes

that sprouted lilac flowers and honeysuckle vines had dried up, and even

the most resilient of plants, like oleanders, had started their decline. By that

time, people passing by could not have helped but notice the emptiness that

surrounded our small three-bedroom white house with its blue wood roof. My

mother fought the barrenness and continued to plant all sorts of bushes and

trees that she bought and that relatives gifted her, but every plant met the

same fate. Chita finally had to make peace with remembering the greenery

that once surrounded her because, by 1973, only resilient weeds survived, and

Farmington Road had become an uninterrupted line of vacant lots .

Gravel Pits

Most of the gravel pits were located on the city's south side. The deposits at the

bottom of the Santa Cruz River provided the rock and sand needed for concrete,

which was the basic material for sidewalks, new home foundations, pools,

patios, streets, and of course, the freeway. Dredging the rock and sand required

water to separate them from dirt. This resulted in the creation of artificial

pools or lakes of water. Diesel-operated shovels scooped out the crushed rock

from the bottom of the lake, and this aggregate of rock and sand was added to

concrete trucks that mixed, delivered, and poured the final product.

In 1952, members of the Sunnyside Parent Teacher Association, out of

concern for their children, requested that a fence be installed around the pit

located on West Valencia Road on Tucson's south side. According to their

description, sections of the pit were "dangerously deep." The PTA feared the

possibility of cave-ins and requested that officials take action by fencing the

area "to prevent a tragedy." ll The Menlo Park PTA also requested (twice) that

"gravel pits along the Santa Cruz be fenced." 2.§. Unfortunately their concerns

were ignored.

FAST PERFORMANCE • lASnNG QUA.LITY • SERVfCE

PIONEER CONSTRUCTORS ,,/ CONSTRUCTION MATERIALS CO. S. 4TH AVE. & E. 39TH ST. PHONE 3-056S / S. 4TH AVE. & E. 39TH ST. PHONE 3-0565 ,

PAVING the Way for Southern Ari-.ona's Future-and Proud of ft!

Figure 2.9 Advertisement for construction companies that

depended on concrete. Star, February 19, 1954, p. 55

In 1954, a fifteen-year-old boy, known to be a good swimmer, died in the

murky water of the West Valencia gravel pit. Police reported that the ten-

acre pond was "a constant attraction for boys" and that many children often

frolicked and swam there . .u An editorial in the Citizen stressed the hazards of

the pits and warned, "The drowning Sunday of a 15-year-old boy in a gravel

pit pond . . . underlines the dangers that exist from open pits and ponds

around Greater Tucson. The warmer it gets, the more such places will appeal to

youngsters seeking vacation time diversion." ~

The dangers of the gravel pit near our house had been discussed and litigated

for three years before my brother Jose Luis's death. In 1953, Cottonwood

Lane residents who lived near the gravel pit had gone as far as taking legal

action against those who owned and managed it. Nine families went to Pima

County Superior Court seeking a judgment against the gravel pit owners,

Construction Materials Company and Pioneer Construction Company. Z2 They

sought $80,000 in damages and charged the two companies with creating

a public nuisance that produced "loud noises, dust, lights, vibrations and

stagnant pools of water which breed insects." Residents also claimed that the

gravel pit devalued their property, and they asked superior court judge Lee

Garrett to issue a permanent injunction that would close down the pit. lQ

The next year, more families joined the lawsuit, bringing the total to

seventeen, but they dropped the amount of damages they sought to $62,250.

One newspaper referred to this trial as a "record-long case" because it lasted

twelve days . The judge and jurors spent two hours at the gravel pit and

walked four and a half miles through the neighborhood . During the trial,

for an unexplained reason, Judge Garrett exonerated the Pioneer Construction

Company from any liability . .ll. When the case was sent to the jury, they

deliberated for nine hours and ruled in favor of the other defendant,

Construction Materials. ll Surely, Garrett's dismissal of the charges leveled

against the Pioneer Construction Company influenced the jury's decision.

Garrett's action indicates that he did not consider the open gravel pit as posing

any danger to adult residents and neighborhood children . He took a pro-

business stance and decided against imposing any further restrictions on the

company, allowing the gravel pit to continue operations. In 19 5 6, my brother

lost his life at this pit, and the same judge later presided over a wrongful death

suit brought by my father against the same companies.

Jose Luis's Death

On Saturday, March 1 7, 19 5 6, my mother arranged for her sister Licha to give

her a lift to Barrio Hollywood, two miles west of our house. She was going to

spend the afternoon with my sister Anita, who was seven months pregnant

and having a difficult time. It was St. Patrick's Day, and Chita had arranged to

take the day off work. She made arrangements with Grandmita to look after my

brothers, nine-year-old Jose Luis and seven-year-old Pepo. I was one year old,

and my sixteen-year-old sister Rita, as usual, had been assigned to look after

me.

Anita was staying with her husband's family, the Ronquillos, who lived on

St. Clair Street, and according to her, the visit with Chita was going well. But

then Licha's car pulled up without being summoned. Her husband, Tony, was

with her. She stayed in the car, and he looked solemn as he approached the

house. He related that Jose Luis had been injured in an accident and that Chita

needed to go with them to the hospital immediately . At this point, they did

not know that my brother had already been pronounced dead at the county

hospital and that a death certificate for Jose Luis that listed "drowning" as the

cause of death was in the process of being prepared.

My grandmother had allowed Jose Luis, Pepo, and a friend to play in the

arroyo behind our house, but they strayed a bit farther to the Santa Cruz

River. The boys had made their way to a large gravel pit that belonged to

the Pioneer Construction Company. The Star described the pit as being the

size of a football field, and it was located 200 yards north of the river near

West Silverlake Road/29th Street. (The Pima County Jail currently sits near the

former quarry site.) Around noon on that Saturday, Jose Luis, Pepo, and their

friend approached the pit. The water level ranged from a few inches to seven

feet in depth. None of them knew how to swim. According to a newspaper

article titled "9-Year-Old Boy Drowns in Big Rock Quarry": "Little Jose [and the

other two boys] had gone there to play. Jose climbed down to the edge of a deep

pocket. He decided to wade. He stripped to his shorts. He inched into the cold

water . A couple of feet out, there was a dropoff . Jose went down, disappeared

immediately ."11

After Jose Luis vanished, Pepo and their friend began screaming hysterically

for help . Thirteen-year-old Arthur Felix, who was three blocks away, heard

their cries and ran toward the gravel pit. He jumped in and pulled Jose Luis out

of the water . Rescue units were called, and they tried to resuscitate Jose Luis

before the ambulance arrived and took him to the hospital . Newspaper reports

regarding my brother's death provide further insight into our family's tragedy:

''Jose's mother, summoned by sheriff's deputies, came into the emergency

room, where she collapsed in severe shock .".li

My brother's drowning should have raised further concerns about

unattended gravel pits . It did not. Two weeks after his death, the Tucson City

Council gave Arthur Felix an award for attempting to save my brother's life.

They acknowledged the thirteen-year-old's bravery and officially commended

the young man's "instinctive and spontaneous courage, epitomizing the

highest quality of American youth .".ll They did not, however, consider

regulating gravel pits or requiring additional barriers or physical obstacles that

would impede access to them. As he handed Felix the brass commendation

plaque, one of the staunchest pro-business and pro-development mayors in the

city's history, Don Hummel, who was responsible for laying the path toward

urban renewal, looked like the cat who swallowed the canary. ~ Celebrating a

teen's heroism allowed him to shift the conversation away from gravel pits and

the risks they posed to brown children who lived on the south side and near the

river. In a city whose expanding infrastructure and economy were dependent

on growth, building more roads and houses relied on concrete. Hummel knew

that to the business community, its production was sacrosanct.

Figure 2.10 Jose Luis Otero's last school photo, age nine. Private collection of author

Wrongful Death Lawsuit

Seven months after Jose Luis's death, my father filed a wrongful death suit in

superior court against the Pioneer Construction Company, which owned the

gravel pit where Jose Luis drowned. Daniel sued for $65,000 and charged that

the company had "permitted" the pit to gather water .il He also contended

"negligence" because the firm had left the water pond unfenced in an area

near "roadways and residential areas where small children play.".la In 2019, I

visited the Pima County Superior Court downtown and filled out the required

paperwork to acquire the transcripts of the lawsuit filed by my father against

the gravel pit owners. Court personnel were unable to locate any records

concerning this case. As evidenced throughout this book, my mother saved

many documents, but she never saved a single item pertaining to this lawsuit

or my brother's drowning, nor did she speak much about his death. The

information in the following paragraphs comes from the local newspapers.

Three and a half months after Jose Luis's death, the hazardous conditions

posed by the open ponds again made headlines. Donnie Carrillo and Hector

Saucedo fell into the deep water of the same gravel pit where Jose Luis had died.

Apparently, fish flourished in the gravel pit, and the young boys were fishing

from a raft, which overturned. The president of the Pioneer Construction

Company happened to be on the site and jumped in the water to rescue them.

Both survived, but they were unconscious and needed artificial respiration

when their bodies were recovered from the water, and both were taken to the

hospital. ll

Growing up, when I accompanied my mother to Holy Hope Cemetery, she

would pray and leave flowers at Jose Luis's grave, but she also made it a point

to pray a few minutes at a grave marker nearby, for someone named Jose Maria

Tapia Jr. I always wondered why. His grave marker shared many similarities

with my brother's, although his angel is still intact, while Jose Luis lost his to

vandals who desecrated his marker in the 19 70s. I did not make the connection

between Jose Maria and Jose Luis until I researched my father's wrongful death

lawsuit for this book.

Just two years after my brother's death, on February 15, 1958, ten-year-

old Jose Tapia drowned in the same gravel pit in which Jose Luis lost his

life. According to the Citizen, by then the pond had been "partially fenced"

and the Pioneer Construction Company no longer operated the pit and had

"abandoned" it . .4Q Tapia was with his brother and two friends when he decided

to wade in the water. When Jose went under the water, the other boys

attempted to rescue him with a board. Although nearby residents managed to

drag him out of the water, the child was pronounced dead by emergency units.

Jose Tapia's father also filed a wrongful death suit in superior court against

the Construction Materials Company, which leased the property, claiming that

"the company was negligent in permitting water to accumulate in dangerous

quantities, knowing it would attract children." The case never went to trial,

and the Tapia family ended up settling out of court for an undisclosed amount,

reported later to be "near $4,500," although they had originally sued for

$150,000. il

In 19 5 8, when the Tapia drowning took place, my family's wrongful death

suit was still moving through the court system. It is unclear whether the jury

in the Otero lawsuit was informed about Jose Tapia's drowning by the judge,

but another child's death at the same pit should have strengthened my father's

case. According to the Citizen, the wrongful death suit filed by my father lasted

three days: April 13-16, 1958. Newspaper accounts offered new details and

claimed that Jose Luis "was walking beside the pit when earth crumbled away

beneath his feet, sending him tumbling down the steep bank" and into eight

feet of water. As the trial progressed, however, my father and his attorney kept

reducing the amount they were requesting for damages. Perhaps they sensed

a lack of empathy from the jury or support from the judge. My father reduced

the amount requested for damages from $65,000 to $26,000, and before the

jury considered the case, he and his attorney amended it again and asked for

a "fair and just sum." All the maneuvering was for nothing, however. Judge

Lee Garrett declared a mistrial when the jury reported it could not agree

on a verdict, thereby releasing the construction firm from any liability and

damages. il Instead of filing a second wrongful death lawsuit, my father settled

for $4,500, just like the Tapia family did. il

Figure 2.11 Grave markers of two of the boys who died

in gravel pits. Photos by author, 2019

Life Insurance Issues

The social stigma of being caught unprepared for the unexpected funeral

expenses for Jose Luis made Chita susceptible to unscrupulous insurance

schemes for the rest of her life . She kept important documents-savings books,

passports, newspaper clippings, and photographs that she wanted to keep

private-in her top dresser drawer in her bedroom. It was off-limits to me and

everyone else. After her death in 2002, I looked through her items. I found

a trove of obituary prayer cards of people Chita had known and numerous

burial insurance policies that she had purchased while still grieving Jose Luis .

Chita even had bought an insurance policy from American National for me .

The weekly premium for this policy was twenty-five cents, and she paid this

premium for twenty years.

I remember door-to-door insurance agents arnv1ng at our house like

clockwork. In the early 1960s, my father's illness made the family eligible

for Social Security . Checks arrived on the third of each month in the mail,

and insurance agents always arrived the following Saturday. Other than the

furniture store salesmen downtown, the agents who came to our house were

the only professionally dressed Mexican Americans I came across. A new agent

would appear about every three years, and in addition to being well groomed,

they were gracious Mexican Americans who spoke Spanish . These agents also

solicited other family members to purchase insurance for their loved ones; two

of my aunts had the same insurance agents.

These men never seemed to be in a hurry, and perhaps this aspect made

them more credible to my mother. They listened attentively as she shared her

life updates. Agents were able to fish for information by engaging in these

types of folksy conversations, and they convinced poor people like Chita to

buy an additional policy for each new child or grandchild. il The percentage of

the payments that went to the agent compared to the proportion that actually

went toward the policy was never discussed. The agents came to our house

well into the 1990s. My mother did not like to be questioned about these

transactions because, as she fittingly insisted, it was her business. She fiercely

put aside her insurance payments each time she cashed her Social Security

check.

If You were the Owner or Beneficiary of an Industrial Life Insurance Policy Issued by

American National Insurance Company

and

are African-American or Hispanic You may be entitled to additional death or

surrender benefits

These addi1ional benefiu arc being provided as part of a multi/4tatc rcgufatory settlement betwevi American National lnsurancc Compaoy and the Insurance regul,u ory authorllies of the states In which American National does businC$$.

fhe senlement only applies to industrial life insurance policies with a face amount of Sl.000 or less, issued b • Amerk.an National between l9 36 and 1939 ( African-Amer ican and Hispanic). and between I 948 and 1964 (Africtn -Amcrican only). anJ "h ere a &urrendcr or death bcncnt was p.tid in'-c December 31, 1959. To find out 1f you are entitled lO additional bencfhs, you mun ac1 b) December 20. 2005 by calling our toll-free number:

l -866-229-9685

American alional In sur an ce Comp any P.O . Box 19 00

Galve sto n, Tex.as 7 755 3- 1900

Figure 2.12 Advertisement seeking those targeted by

discriminatory insurance practices. Star, August 8, 2004, p . 130

It turns out that it was advantageous to have brown professionals engage in

these activities, which were aimed at individuals like my mother, who had dealt

with many past tragedies. In the 1980s, investigations that concluded that

these agents had targeted people of color started to leak into the newspapers. In

relation to American National, the company from which Chita purchased many

policies, the Texas Department of Insurance alleged in 2004 that "the Company

or other insurance companies acquired by the Company sold certain industrial

and other life insurance policies to non-white persons at higher premiums or

with lesser benefits than policies sold to otherwise similarly situated white

persons (the 'Alleged Practices'). The Texas Department of Insurance contends

that the Alleged Practices were discriminatory." .il

My mother wanted to make sure she was prepared if a similar catastrophe

befell her other children. Unfortunately, she stepped right into a web of

questionable insurance practices that left a number of worthless policies in

her top drawer. An advertisement did appear in the local paper trying to locate

those who had purchased burial insurance from American National, but it was

decades too late for my mother. She dealt with unexpected deaths-and the

financial burdens that came with them-frequently in her lifetime.

The tragic death of my brother Jose Luis left deep scars. My financially

unprepared parents could not afford to have the wake and services at a

mortuary, so the funeral services were held in our living room. Growing up,

I sometimes attempted to visualize a coffin in our living room, as I was too

young to remember the event . According to my sister Rita, it sat in the same

place as our television, and Jose Luis wore the suit that my parents had

purchased for his upcoming Holy Communion .

Pa' Luis: A Casualty of Modernity

Growing up 200 feet from the freeway informed my daily reality. We

normalized the traffic noise, the sirens, and the large tractor trailers that shook

our house. Neighborhood dogs terrorized by loud thunderstorms and Fourth

of July :fireworks often escaped their fenced yards and ventured into the high-

speed traffic. We never expected lost dogs to return because we knew they had

ventured into the nearby vortex.

My grandfather Pa' Luis, who lived in our family home, often crossed the

freeway; he had established his own paths to entertainment sites and markets

-all situated on the other side of the truck bypass . On November 11, 1957, he

was killed when he attempted to cross the freeway on his way to the nearest

market, Puertas Azules. The small article that appeared later in the local paper

was headlined "Truck Seen at Hit-Run Site Hunted ." It revealed that a witness

described a "dark colored pick-up or stake truck . .. [with] a lightly colored

shield type emblem on the driver's side" as swerving, but the police could

not determine if the truck driver was trying to avoid hitting the body, or if

that indeed was the vehicle that hit my grandfather. The newspaper reported,

"Several drivers ran over the body of [Luis] Robles before the hit and run

accident was discovered." 46

Playing outside, my sister Rita, who was going to turn seventeen the next

month, heard the screeching and the related commotion radiating from the

freeway and ran over to see what had happened. She was able to make out

Pa' Luis's mangled body and instinctively ran home to tell my mother, who

immediately ran to try to help her father. In a matter of minutes, many people

from the neighborhood had congregated, and they watched as police picked up

pieces of Pa' Luis's body and placed them into bags . A neighbor across the street,

Mr. Nevarez, helped my sister carry my distraught mother home. The police

came to the house to get my grandfather's name, age, and address after the

accident. They never returned with updates for the family nor did they pursue

an investigation to find the guilty party responsible for the death of Luis Robles.

The freeway is currently elevated, and underpasses ease pedestrian crossings.

But the efforts to raise the highway did not start until 19 5 9-a couple of years

too late for Pa' Luis .

.•

Figure 2.13 Luis Robles, 1942. Private collection of author

Approaching seventy-nine years old in 2019, Rita shared with me that if

she closes her eyes, images of our grandfather's body parts scattered on the

highway still float through her mind. This tragic revelation causes me to ask

how this violent act and its aftermath affected other family members and our

neighbors. My sister says it made her stronger. At an early age, I surmised it also

made us all harder, and as a child growing up in that household, I too learned

to suppress emotions. When I was ten years old, for example, I kept to myself

the distress caused by seeing a dog run over, and the sounds of its final yelps

of pain. I knew the suffering my family had dealt with in the past. While the

dog incident traumatized me, I felt it lacked the severity of what they had lived

through, so I did not discuss it with anyone.

Growing up, I spent much of my time sitting on the front porch, watching

the freeway. It was clear to me that people moved, traveled, and felt the need

to go someplace else. As a child, I often wanted to be one of those people going

someplace else.