... and so we continue
From “Fresno
County ~ The Pioneer Years” by Charles E. Clough & William B.
Secrest, Jr, page 43:
“It is unfortunate
that the majority of details of the Californianos or Hispanics is
about the outlaw element, as they were outnumbered many times over by
constructive settlers who made a positive contribution to the
development of the county. It is hoped that additional informaiton
about their work is to be found somewhere in written form and that it
will eventually be made available to future generations.”
And this is
exactly what I am doing … and have been doing for years!!
So
yet again our families moved. Yet again the move was to better their
lives
… they would now be property owners, not all of them, but
many.
There
was work in and around Firebaugh for every person willing to work.
Sheep-shearing was seasonal, but there were other jobs to keep them
busy, keep them paid, and keep food on the tables until the shearing
season began again.
… and for the women there was always the
keeping house, and cooking.
Cooks at the sheep-shearing camps were
often under appreciated, but always needed.
Life
continued
… and life ended.
As in all communities, when a
life ended the community mourned.
In Firebaugh, where most of the
families were related, the loss was often felt by so many more than
just the immediate family.
… the funerals helped with healing
…
the cemetery created a gathering place.
For the folks of Firebaugh
their gathering place was the old Las Juntas Cemetery.
The
Las Juntas Cemetery had been the final resting place for so many
years, for so many of the earliest settlers of the area, for so many
of the members of the gangs
… and for so many of the residents
of the Pueblo de Las Juntas during its final years.
Even
after moving from Las Juntas to Firebaugh the residents continued to
bury their loved ones in the Las Juntas Cemetery. The Pueblo de Las
Juntas may have been destroyed, but the cemetery was still there, still a
place to heal
… until Firebaugh had its own cemetery in 1920.
Those
who died after Amadeo Landucci and Pompelio Giomi established the
cemetery location were buried in the Firebaugh Cemetery. For
twenty-something years families had buried their loved ones in
Firebaugh, yet still mourned for those in the Las Juntas cemetery. In
the mid 1940s this was resolved by relocating the remains of those buried in the Las
Juntas cemetery to the Firebaugh Cemetery.
For unknown reasons
one grave, one headstone was left to mark the location of the Las
Juntas Cemetery.
The
site of the old Las Juntas Cemetery is on private property. The owner
states that there are no indications of any other graves, only the
one, carefully fenced.
Here are some of
the families who lived in Las Juntas during the last years 1874 - 1877:
Fernando
Moreno * and his wife
Barbara Francisca Solorsano, *
Indian from San Juan, and at least 5 children: Estefana, 20 *,
Jesus, 6 *,
Pancho, 16*
Their last two sons, Agusto *
and Alberto * were born in
Las Juntas.Fernando and Barbara married in 1876 while living in Las Juntas before Fernando died in 1879.
Escolastico
Borboa * who arrived in Las
Juntas in about 1870, according to his marriage record to Quirina
Buelna, * daughter of Juana
Bojorques in 1875.
Both residents of Las Juntas at that time.
Jose Montenegro
and Juana Jimenes
Jorge Garcia and
Juliana Cervantes
Juan Arias *
and Josie Serna *
Jose Arredondo
and Teodora Munos/Martinez
Juan and Juliana
Higuera
Ambrosio Urias
and Matilde Ynigo *
Louis
Rodriguez and Eduvigis Olivas, and their newborn son Jose
Bibiano Bisente
Domingo
Zaragoza *and Josefa
Madrid,* and newborn son
Francisco *
Jose
Moraga* and Virginia
Solaca *, and newborn
daughter Martina *
Juan
Valencia and Jesus Bojorques, and newborn son Valencio
Jorge
Onorario and Feliciana Cervantes, and newborn daughter Genoveva
Pedro
Aguirre and Audelia Melendez
Jose
Maria Ochoa * and
daughters Margarita, 12 *
and Filomena, 9. * His wife
died in childbirth in Pajaro in October 1870. He moved with the other
families to Las Juntas.
Manuel Enriques *
and Juana Bojorques * along
with her Castro sons: Jose
Raymundo *
& Hipolito *;
Juana's son Francisco
Palomares *,
and the Enriques children: Florencia
*, Juliana
*, Jesus *,
Bernardino *,
Manuel *,
Mary *, and
Clemencia *
Jose
Raymundo will marry Margarita Ochoa, as
residents of Las Juntas.
Florencia
Enriques *
will marry Manuel Castro Estrada,
*
in 1876 as residents of Las Juntas.
Juliana
Enriques *
will marry Francisco Dobales, the
Justice of the Peace in Firebaugh in 1875.
The
above names, about 54 who lived in Las Juntas and then moved to
Firebaugh for a better life, make up quite a percentage of those said
to have been in Las Juntas at its ending. Almost all these folks are
in some way related to Juana Bojorques
... her families
... MY
family!
(* indicates
they lived in Las Juntas and then in Firebaugh)
Noted author Frank
F. Latta said that for 40 yrs, between 1920 – 1960, he carried a 3
ring binder with all his notes of interviews with so many of the
people of the Firebaugh and Las Juntas areas.
Some of his
informants were Lizzie (Chevoya) Corona, Ramon & Cayetano
Chevoya, Jesus, Frank, and Albert Lopez, along with Hipolito Castro.
Lizzie Chaboya
married Adolpho Corona. One of their daughters was Trinidad who
married my grandmother's brother Nemecio “Mechie” Gonzales of
Firebaugh.
Mechie and Trinidad had one daughter – Genevieve.
Genevieve
celebrated her 91st birthday this week!
She and her husband Tony Barragan still
live in Firebaugh.
Ramon and
Cayetano Chaboya were Lizzie's brothers.
Jesus, Frank, and
Albert Lopez were long time residents of Firebaugh.
Albert was
the Constable. Frank was the contractor who relocated the graves.
Hipolito
Castro, a mule team
driver for years, respected as being one of the best drivers, able to
control the team over very steep and winding roads, “jumping” the
reins as they went.
Tio Polito was my great grand uncle, the last
child born to Juana Bojorques and her first husband Antonio Maria
Castro.
When
my great grandmother Florencia
Enriques married Manuel Castro Estrada in
Sep 1876 they were both residents of Las Juntas.
The witnesses for
their marriage were Ambrosio
Urias and his wife Matilda Ynigo
... the same Matilda who was the two month old baby clutched in her mother's arms
... riding from
Mexico to Las Juntas on horseback in 1857.
Not long after her husband Ambrosio Urias died Matilda
married Jose Rivera, a cook for Joaquin Murrieta, and later a tamale maker!
... Ambrosio was
buried in the Las Juntas Cemetery. His mother in law Teodora Arredondo performed the ceremony as she had done for nearly all others buried there.
Dn
Jose Rivera and his
wife Dna Mathia
lived their final years quietly in the growning town of nearby Madera, California at 208 South O Street
... just two
houses from where my mother was born and lived until she
married in 1948.
Dn
Jose and Dna Mathia had no children but adored the little girl down
the street
... giving her treats and gifts, and tons of love.
How
fun that one of Mom's neighbors was so connected to both Las Juntas AND
to Joaquin Murrieta!
... and how awesome for me to sit across the table from my own mother, listening to her stories of growing up two houses down from Doña Mathia
... someone who lived in, actually grew up in, the Pueblos de Las Juntas!
End.
Dedicated to researching the first families arriving in California, and those already living here on their native land.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Las Juntas Cemetery and The Pueblo de Las Juntas - Part Two
Continuing
with the story...
… 1874
… our families had had enough!
They, along with
so many of the other mixed families... Californio and Indian... moved
out of the Pajaro Valley area, over the mountains now known as
Pacheco Pass, and into the little town of Las Juntas. They moved all their belongings and children, many very tiny babies. Some of the women were pregnant.
For the safety of the families they moved.
At any given moment mostly the men, but even the women were in danger of being killed by the “protection society”
… so our families moved.
HOWEVER!!!
… and this is important to remember
...our families in Pajaro don't know and won't know until it's too late!!
… 1866
– 1871 in the San Joaquin Valley
During
this time and due to John Bensley and the Miller & Lux company,
the present day Central California Irrigation District was begun. In
the early 1870s Henry Miller made a deal with Bensley's new
corporation to purchase irrigation water for his vast holdings. In
1871 Miller subsidized the canal company for a discounted price on
water for irrigation and his livestock. This would be the beginning
of the first permanent dam which would have a huge impact on the flow
of the San Joaquin River and the Fresno Slough.… and without knowing what has happened in the past, not knowing what might await them in their new home-town
… our families moved to the Pueblo de Las Juntas in the San Joaquin Valley!
So here's some background on this Pueblo de Las Juntas...
This rowdy town of Las Juntas was possibly the first white settlement in the San Joaquin Valley, having been occupied since before 1800.
The houses were still made of mud and brush walls with thatched roofs, similar to those of the Yokuts Indians who lived in the area years earlier, much like those of the village of Pajaro where our families had lived.
Pueblo de Las Juntas was located about three miles northeast of present day Mendota, on the west bank of the San Joaquin River where the river and the Fresno Slough met.
According to one of the long time residents of Las Juntas, Theodora Arredondo, she and her first husband Gregorio Ynigo made the trip between Sonora Mexico and Las Juntas several times on the El Camino Viejo, the old highway.
She said their trips began as early as 1847.
While her husband packed for Joaquin Murrieta when in Las Juntas and rode with the gang for about 3 years, Teodora was with him on many trips. In 1857, just after their only child, Matilda, was born Gregorio Ynigo was killed in an argument over the ownership of some horses the gang had.
Teodora quickly remarried... she had an infant to support
... and just as quickly she left with new husband Jose Arredondo on horseback clutching her two month old baby as they rode once again all the way to the Pueblo de Las Juntas.
Baby Matilda (Ma-dthee-uh) was raised in Las Juntas from her arrival with her mother and stepfather in 1857. She lived in Las Juntas until her marriage in 1874 to Ambrosio Urias.
… until she was forced to leave with the other residents.
What? Forced to leave, you ask??
...hang on, you'll know why very soon!
And then there were the rowdies in and out of the town
... it was reported that gambling, horseracing, drinking, murder happened almost daily
... just as it had been in Pajaro Valley.
The active gangs of the area, including both the Vasquez gang and Joaquin Murrieta's gang were able to get their supplies in Las Juntas with little or no worries about lawmen. This town was so bad that the American lawmen rarely went there. Many of the regular banditos of the Pajaro Valley area used Las Juntas for the same purpose.
The families who lived in Las Juntas were either directly related to or related by marriage to many of these bad guys
... and probably because of these close ties, they survived!
It was along about this same time that Henry Miller, with his vast holdings had been forced to fence his land to comply with the new “No-Fence Law” of the State. This was the law that helped end the terrible battles between the farmer and the ranchers.
Ranchers finally had to fence IN their cattle and no longer allow them to run free, but fencing was a major expense!
This is when barbed wire made it's successful appearance.
Miller felt the townsfolk of Las Juntas were on his land, this land he had just started fencing and they were stealing too much of his livestock
... and he wanted them gone
... he referred to them as “... those Mexicans and half-breed Indians”.
… and with his interest in the newly formed Canal Company, he wanted them GONE!
And then something interesting happened...
Various pieces of local property began changing ownership beginning with a ferry by a man named McIntyre. He sold it to Andrew Firebaugh (who called it Firebaugh's Ferry)
... who later sold to a man named Hoffman.
Mr Hoffman and a man named Turner also owned the store, the hotel business, well, actually, the entire town site of Firebaugh!
Hoffman and Turner sold everything to Jacob Meyer.
Yes, this same Jacob Meyer who had allowed the families of Las Juntas credit tabs for groceries and other supplies from his store in Las Juntas. He realized that if Miller had his way, and the townsfolk were all evicted, scattered around the county, Meyer would lose all the money owed to him.
Being the shrewd businessman he was, Meyer offered FREE lots in Firebaugh to any of the people who owed him money if they would simply move into Firebaugh
... and of course they accepted and moved into Firebaugh, Meyer's town.
...and now they were solid, property owning, upstanding citizens!
Needless to say, Henry Miller was furious but could do nothing at the time.
Eventually most of the same people became his employees for years!
Many of these early families of Firebaugh were also descendants of the earliest Hispanic families in California. They helped keep the old traditional lifestyle alive in the western part of the San Joaquin Valley much longer than other parts of California.
Many of the families of Pueblo de Las Juntas and then later in Firebaugh held onto their culture and traditions
... from the language of the Californios
… and the “sarsa”
… and old style tamales tied on the ends, often sold to pay the bills!
And we still do!!!
Some sources claim Firebaugh jumped from 50 to 250 residents almost overnight. Ralph Milliken's “One Man Show” says only about 12 – 15 of the 30 families residing in Las Juntas moved to Firebaugh. Knowing many of the families had 10 or more kids, the numbers could add up quickly. We know that the families of Juana Bojorques totaled over 50 when they moved out of Las Juntas!
Milliken states that the families were Mexicans who intermarried with the Indians and that Miller probably didn't have the right to evict them
… and that's probably true
… but that was the way of life in the late 1870s.
Remember... Mexicans and Indians had no rights, or so it was thought.
From Fresno County~The Pioneer Years, Charles W Clough & William B Secrest, Jr wrote about Firebaugh:
"By 1875 ... stages and mail service ran daily to the town (population 25), since it was on the Gilroy-Berenda route. There were two homes, two saloons operated by Jesus Bernal and Joaquin Cabrera, and a private school operated by a Mr Hadsell. Francisco Dubalos [sic Dobales] was justice of the peace and Jeremiah Noonan constable.
For a town of twenty-five, it had an impressive array of services!"
[Francisco Dobales married Julia Enriques three years later. Julia was the daughter of Juana Bojorques and Manuel Enriques.]
...and:
"Firebaugh experienced a sudden population jump in 1879. The San Joaquin and Kings River Canal Company had previously purchased the Las Juntas town-site, and it ordered the residents to vacate. Firebaugh merchant [Jacob] Meyer began offering lots in his town for one dollar, which attracted almost all the people from Las Juntas.
They swelled Firebaugh's population from (approximately) 50 to 250"
By 1885 "...Most of the Las Juntas refugees, who made up the bulk of the town's population, were Miller and Lux employees."
And they were property owners!
Nearly every male descendant of of my great, great grandmother Juana Bojorques was in some way connected to the sheep-shearing business in Firebaugh from the 1880s to well into the 1950s. Even though the pages of the books claim Firebaugh was a rough and almost lawless town, Juana's families - MY family survived, and have thrived!
From “Fresno County ~ The Pioneer Years” by Charles E. Clough & William B. Secrest, Jr, page 43:
“It is unfortunate that the majority of details of the Californianos or Hispanics is about the outlaw element, as they were outnumbered many times over by constructive settlers who made a positive contribution to the development of the county. It is hoped that additional information about their work is to be found somewhere in written form and that it will eventually be made available to future generations.”
And this is exactly what I am doing
… and have been doing for years!!
Recently I was contacted by someone wanting to “rewrite” the history of Pueblo de Las Juntas. I asked why, what's wrong with the history of the town?
I was told it should be about the vaqueros, the cooks, the farmers, etc, etc and not about the outlaws.
These people of the Pueblo de Las Juntas, our families of the Pueblo de Las Juntas
... were hardworking, never give up people.
They were creative
… they were innovative!
They believed in God, they taught their children honor and respect
... and they lived it.
Hospitality was the code of ethics
... and in so many of the current families it still is.
Family meals, small or huge, are still the most enjoyable Gatherings!
Re-write? I don't think so
... the history, OUR history is exactly that
... it's OUR history!
Please read Part Three...
Las Juntas Cemetery and The Pueblo de Las Juntas – Part One
In my last post, the one
about the Firebaugh Cemetery and the missing headstones I mentioned
another story
... a story about a nearby cemetery.
... a story about a nearby cemetery.
This is the story about
the Las Juntas Cemetery
... and about the Pueblo
de Las Juntas, the little town near the cemetery.
This is about how they
came to exist, and why they no longer exist...
Before I tell you more
about the Las Juntas Cemetery I need to give you a bit of the history
of the Pueblo de Las Juntas... and even though this story of how the
town came to be starts more than 13,000 years ago, I won't take you
THAT far back!
Let's start in about the mid 1500s...when the first Spanish and British explorers arrived and when the California Indians met their first outsiders.
Let's start in about the mid 1500s...when the first Spanish and British explorers arrived and when the California Indians met their first outsiders.
Not all California Indians
met the European explorers at that time, most didn't have any contact
until the late 1700s and into the early 1800s. The Yokuts tribes of
California covered the largest territory... mostly down through the
center of California from as far north as present day Antioch in
Contra Costa County to as far south as Bakersfield in Kern County.
These tribes were spread from the Coast Range mountains clear across
the San Joaquin Valley and up into the foothills of the Sierras. An
area of about 300 miles long and more than 75 miles wide was home to
probably 60 or so individual Yokuts tribes, some with as many as 600
tribal members.
Two significant Yokuts
villages were near present day Firebaugh in west Fresno County,
California
... and the now non-existent town of Las Juntas.
The names of these two villages were Kawatchwa and Tape (Tah-pay) as reported in 1772 and 1776 by two early Spanish explorers, Captain Pedro Fages (Fah-hez) and Fr Juan Crespi. Both men kept excellent and very detailed diaries of their travels to the interior valleys of California.
Thank goodness they did!
Because of their diaries, and the peer pressure causing each man to write as much detail as possible, we know about these Yokuts people...their family life, foods eaten, clothing worn, home structures, and government of the tribes.
We also know that in the short span of 30 odd years the lives of these peace loving Yokuts would be destroyed.
... and the now non-existent town of Las Juntas.
The names of these two villages were Kawatchwa and Tape (Tah-pay) as reported in 1772 and 1776 by two early Spanish explorers, Captain Pedro Fages (Fah-hez) and Fr Juan Crespi. Both men kept excellent and very detailed diaries of their travels to the interior valleys of California.
Thank goodness they did!
Because of their diaries, and the peer pressure causing each man to write as much detail as possible, we know about these Yokuts people...their family life, foods eaten, clothing worn, home structures, and government of the tribes.
We also know that in the short span of 30 odd years the lives of these peace loving Yokuts would be destroyed.
Spanish explorer Gabriel
Moraga visited this same region of the San Joaquin Valley, and so
named the valley, along with the Merced River and many other
locations during his explorations in 1805 – 1808. It was during
this time that the Yokuts were being taken from their homes to work
at the Missions, specifically Mission San Juan Bautista, already home
to many of the Mutsun tribe of that area.
In spite of the cruelties
endured, the foreign diseases, and the huge loss of family units,
culture, and traditions due to the Spanish rule, many of the
California Natives survived. These survivors intermarried with other
relocated tribal members along with descendants of those first
Spanish settlers to live in California.
A major turning point in
the lives of these early families of California came in 1833 when
Mexico decided it wanted out of the business of running the
Missions
... the natives living at the Missions were told to just go home
... but they had no homes …
… their original homes had been destroyed years earlier when they were captured, or entirely taken over by other non native people during the previous decades.
... the natives living at the Missions were told to just go home
... but they had no homes …
… their original homes had been destroyed years earlier when they were captured, or entirely taken over by other non native people during the previous decades.
Their current homes were
on the lands now being purchased by the Anglos eager to buy up all
the lands formerly belonging to the Catholic Church and the Missions.
Many of these now pretty much homeless family men began working as laborers on the farms of the newly arriving Anglo landowners.
The poorly paid farm laborers had families to raise, children to feed, lives to be lived with as much of their culture and traditions as they could save.
… and save they did!
Many of these now pretty much homeless family men began working as laborers on the farms of the newly arriving Anglo landowners.
The poorly paid farm laborers had families to raise, children to feed, lives to be lived with as much of their culture and traditions as they could save.
… and save they did!
However, even the Treaty
of Guadalupe Hidalgo, signed on February 2, 1848 between Mexico and
the United States declaring that all who stayed in California,
including the Indians, would be allowed to be citizens of the
United States failed to protect the people.
The version of this treaty
that was finally ratified by the United States Senate on March 10,
1948 eliminated Article X, the guarantee that all land grants awarded
to citizens by both Spain and Mexico would be honored by the United
States.
And we know how that
turned out.
By the time the Gold Rush
was in full swing many of our family members had moved from the
Mission San Juan Bautista area towards Watsonville... more precisely,
Pajaro. The families who lived near the river and across the bridge,
you know, that “other side of the tracks” area
... these families were OUR families.
WE lived across the bridge of present day Watsonville.
WE lived near the banks of the Pajaro River in the shanty town of tents and brush/mud houses.
And OUR families endured the mind-set of those who published articles in the local newspapers that declared “All Mexicans and Indians can be shot on sight.” and “… while their cattle raised themselves the people enjoyed their fandangos and idyllic life until they met the superior race and had to change their ways...”
What?? Superior race???
Hey, these are OUR families they're writing about!!!
... these families were OUR families.
WE lived across the bridge of present day Watsonville.
WE lived near the banks of the Pajaro River in the shanty town of tents and brush/mud houses.
And OUR families endured the mind-set of those who published articles in the local newspapers that declared “All Mexicans and Indians can be shot on sight.” and “… while their cattle raised themselves the people enjoyed their fandangos and idyllic life until they met the superior race and had to change their ways...”
What?? Superior race???
Hey, these are OUR families they're writing about!!!
Our families were also
forced to endure the Pajaro Property Protective Society.
Formed on February 26, 1870 this “society” vowed to protect their ranches because the “Law” wasn't doing the job. There were so many lynchings, often after tying up the on-duty Jailer or Sheriff to get to the poor hapless prisoner and haul him out to the nearest tree branch or bridge beam.
Of course, these lynchings were almost always “Mexicans and Indians” who were perceived guilty because of where they lived and who they were.
Formed on February 26, 1870 this “society” vowed to protect their ranches because the “Law” wasn't doing the job. There were so many lynchings, often after tying up the on-duty Jailer or Sheriff to get to the poor hapless prisoner and haul him out to the nearest tree branch or bridge beam.
Of course, these lynchings were almost always “Mexicans and Indians” who were perceived guilty because of where they lived and who they were.
OK, to be fair it must be mentioned that the townships of Pajaro, and nearby Whiskey Hill, later renamed Freedom, were somewhat safe-havens for many of the banditos and roaming gangs of that time.
Gangs who probably caused the creation of the Pajaro Property Protective Society
... gangs who felt safe in the small settlements filled with family members.
Yeah, OUR families. Being related to the various “bad guys” meant some protection, some small amount of safety.
Another researcher claims
“At the time, the village of
Pajaro consisted of a motley collection of makeshift shacks located
among the willows on the sandy banks of the river. “
…
and yes, these people were OUR families. But there was still honor
and courtesy and values in our families. This is evident by another
quote “It had long been a
practice of the poor Spaniards of Pajaro village to do their laundry
by setting up a washing platform among the rocks in the swift running
river. Afterward, they would stretch their clean clothing on drying
lines attached to posts which were placed in the side of the sandy
embankment. Each family staked out its section of the stream and was
expected to honor the territory of his neighbors.”
Honor, morals, ethics
... a handshake meant something... a promise was kept.
This was the mid 1870's.
During the next generation things would begin to change, slowly, but they would change
... but not before the "local inquisition" caused the families of the Spanish and Indian victims to pay the unimaginable price of the losses of so many loved ones.
Our families.
Our loved ones.
... 1874 ... our families had had enough!
They, along with so many of the other mixed families... Californio and Indian ... moved out of the Pajaro Valley area, away from the river, over the mountains now known as the Pacheco Pass, and into the little town of Las Juntas. Pueblo de Las Juntas
They moved everything they owned.
They moved their extended families, tiny babies, pregnant women.
For the safety of the families they moved.
It was very apparent that at any given moment ANY man, even some of the women were in danger of being stalked, captured, and lynched by the "protection society"
... so our families moved.
To Be Continued...
Saturday, November 2, 2013
The Firebaugh Cemetery... then and now
After a really fun visit with my newly found
cousins in Firebaugh (and one quirky trip to the cemetery at midnight with cousin Tootie
Borboa!) … and learning that so many other cousins
lived right there in town…
I just HAD to make another trip, or a few, to Firebaugh!
However... it was the summer of 1998 and I had recently become a Grandma, something that took up quite a bit more of my time...in a very good way! Tiny new grandson was somewhat, no, make that VERY, demanding but, of course, what Grandma can resist?? I spent the first couple of weeks of his new little life helping as often as I could by allowing my daughter to take some much needed long naps while tiny new grandson and I spent many of our afternoons napping together. Nothing better than a newborn baby sleeping across your chest, right? Soft skin, soft breath, wonderful smelling tiny baby. Perfect for kissing the top of his gorgeous little head.
Yeah, yeah, OK, I know, I’m like every other new grandmother. MY grandchild is gorgeous.
Really... he was! … he still is. (so are his two brothers!)
As I looked at this little miracle I knew I had to continue my search to find our Juana Bojorques. This small child is our 9th generation to be born in California.
Juana is his Great, Great, Great, Great-grandmother.
For my tiny new grandson I knew I had to continue ... for him, and for his future siblings!
Now, let's get back to my visits to Firebaugh! There were so many new cousins to meet and "interview” so I found it was always best to call ahead, to schedule a time. This also worked well because some of my newly found cousins didn't often see eye to eye with one another. I made sure I let each one know I was meeting with the others... just to be sure they ALL knew I was there only to learn about the history of our families ...not the family feuds!
I did NOT want to get into any family politics.
Um, yeah ... that didn't work so well.
Good ol' Tootie... of the cemetery at midnight trip... he just seemed to attract a lot of negative stuff.
To this day I still don't know why he was always in such hot water, but boy, talk about causing drama! Just the mention of his name could light the fires!
Another trip to Firebaugh a couple of weeks after my exciting adventure to the cemetery at midnight found me back at Tootie's house. Tootie had tons of details and he loved having a brand new audience ... someone so interested in all the details of the town and the families. Tootie didn't care that I had my little tape recorder going all the time... he said what he thought, ... what he passionately felt. He told me he'd say the same stuff to anyone...
Oh kaaayy... and it was becoming easy to understand why and how he caused all the drama!
As we sat in his living room going through a box of photos and documents Tootie showed me some news clippings from the Fresno Bee. These were from during the time he was running for City Council in Firebaugh years earlier. Seems Tootie wasn't all that happy about the City's proposed park on the property where the cemetery was located.
There was a tomato processing plant coming to town and it meant many new jobs would be available, but it also meant the cemetery was about to become just a park
... next to the parking lot.
Tootie was livid!
Tootie contacted the newspaper and the local radio and TV crews... the whole thing became a really hot topic in Firebaugh... really HOT!
Needless to say, Tootie didn't win the election for a seat on the City Council. Drama.
So Tootie asked me if I'd like to see what had happened to all the headstones that were in the cemetery.
YES! ... of course I wanted to know what happened... Heck yeah! … let's go see the headstones!!!
But this road trip to the cemetery would turn out to be a very sad road trip.
I drove the two of us to the area behind the water treatment plant just outside Firebaugh as Tootie directed. He was guiding me to a place behind some buildings.
I parked the car on the dusty gravely roadway, waving to a City worker Tootie knew, and we got out.
This was mid July.
The entire area was hot and dry.
And full of weeds.
And very quiet.
We walked towards a somewhat steep embankment, then inched our way down over the crunchy dried brown grass and weeds. The dirt was so soft and dry and crumbling under our feet.
Once again I was holding Tootie's arm as his short bow-legs and old worn boots were keeping him from tumbling down face first!
As we reached the bottom of the hill Tootie made a sweeping motion with his free arm for me to look around us...
I was stunned. I could not speak. I just could not think of a single thing to say.
Tootie told me that all the headstones had been scooped up and deposited here.
Dumped behind these buildings to be covered over with weeds and dirt.
THIS is what had angered Tootie so much.
We drove back to Tootie's home in silence. I gathered my stuff and then as a last minute thought I asked Tootie if he'd like an early dinner... it was a little after 4pm. He said yes and we went to one of his favorite Mexican restaurants in town. Great meal... food and service were both so good... but our conversation was quiet. Tootie gave me a few more details about the incident, we finished our food, paid the nice owner and I drove Tootie home again.
Then I drove home... deep in thought, and oh, so sad.
On August 24, 1998 I went back to Firebaugh.
... this visit was with Casey Borboa and his bride Lee on their 47th wedding anniversary!
We celebrated with some goodies Lee brought to the kitchen table while Casey told me wonderful stories of the earlier days and the family. Casey's full name is Escolastico, named for his grandfather Escolastico Borboa, husband of Quirina Buelna who was the daughter of Juana Bojorques!
Casey had great tales, and Lee showed me photos of so many family members. I was writing as fast as I could and trying to remember the names and how they all connected
... and of course my little tape recorder was on and sitting there in the middle of the table.
At the end of my visit with Casey and Lee I asked about Casey's cousin Clemmy... this was Tootie's younger brother who was Mayor of Firebaugh at that time. Casey said I should talk with Clemmy about a list of names of those buried in the cemetery before the headstones were removed. Casey said I could find Clemmy at the City offices... and so off I went, wishing them Happy Anniversary, sharing hugs, and promising to visit again.
Sadly, Casey died a little more than four months later.
I did what Casey told me to do... I drove straight over to the City offices and asked for Clemmy.
The nice lady behind the glass window politely informed me that Mr. Borboa was out of town until the following week but I could make an appointment if I wished. I told her I really just wanted to talk with someone about a list of names of those who were buried in the cemetery before all the headstones were taken away and the one stone monument erected. Her face seemed to drain of all color. She picked up a phone and while carefully cupping her hand over the mouthpiece she loudly whispered to the person on the other end “I don't know who she is, she's just asking about the cemetery and the old headstones!”
… and she kept staring wide-eyed at me through that glass window,
that glass window with the hole in the middle like at the movie theaters.
Didn't she realize I could hear her???
After slowly and carefully putting the phone down she looked right at me without saying a word
.... and my brain was racing ahead thinking was I about to receive a police escort out of town!!
But no... she just quietly said “You need to talk with the Fire Chief”
… huh?? Fire Chief? Why the Fire Chief??? This is way too weird. Drama!
I walked out the door, down the steps, turned to the right, and right into the next building just as she had instructed. The first thing I saw was a man in a chair leaned way back with his feet propped up on a paper strewn desk, his hands carefully clasped behind his head, barely touching his precisely combed hair, as if he had posed himself just in time for my arrival. He stared at me without moving a muscle, then he gruffly asked why I wanted to know about the headstones. Hmmmm, well hello to you too!
I thought we might at least say hello, or something before getting into all this.
Nope... straight to the point. OK. So here we go.
I started by telling him I'd heard headstones had been removed when the parking lot was being built, and the one stone marking the spot of the cemetery didn't have all the names engraved on it. He frowned and said I must have heard wrong, no headstones were ever removed... and then, even more gruffly, he asked who I was and why I was so interested in this whole cemetery thing.
Ahhhh, now we might have some pleasantries!
As quickly as I could say the words I told him I was his cousin and had just spent the last four or five hours with his dad and step mom at their home celebrating their anniversary and sharing family stories and pictures and his dad said I should talk with Clemmy about the cemetery stuff and so I came over here and asked the lady behind the glass window and she called someone and then said I had to go talk with the Fire Chief.
I finished running all those words together without taking a breath and I watched him as he just stared at me.
He stared at me for just a couple of milliseconds.
… and then ya shoulda seen how fast those feet came down off that desk and hit the floor!
It was kinda hard not to laugh out loud.
Seems that when the Mayor wasn't in town the Fire Chief took over. OK, I guess that works.
Fire Chief Borboa didn't have any answers for me either... no one seemed to have any answers when those questions are asked. Or maybe I just hadn't asked the right person yet.
Apparently the only list of those who were buried in the Firebaugh Cemetery before it was converted to a grassy park was from the list of names created from the remaining headstones themselves.
However, according to the folks in City offices, ALL the families of the people who were buried there were notified that the headstones were to be removed so they could claim them. I'm not sure how that worked out... if there's no list of the original burials how could all the families have been notified?
To prevent any more drama... and that possibility of being escorted out of town, I quit asking.
Well, I quit asking people connected with City Hall.
Fast forward to August 2007...
There is an online website called Find A Grave. On that site is the Firebaugh Cemetery created by "MPerry" who posted a photograph of the memorial stone located near the front of Toma-TEK Inc at 2502 N Street just south of Firebaugh. This photo, taken in 2007 has two more names on the stone than in the photo I took in June 1998. MPerry created a memorial page for every person on the stone, with all the information that was available which was ...simply their name.
No birth date. No death date. Nothing but a name. Yet they deserve much more. So much more.
With a major amount of digging (no pun intended!) I have been able to add details to most of the memorial pages for those in the Firebaugh Cemetery. (An ongoing very time consuming project!)
Fast forward again, this time to 2013...
To be fair to those involved, much more research on this entire Firebaugh Cemetery issue has provided additional information on the background of the “grassy hill park” proposed by the City.
According to the news article in the Fresno Bee, 17 Nov 1988... the Firebaugh Cemetery had been neglected for years... weeds overgrowing the grave sites, and no one seeming to take care of, or even cared about the cemetery. According to City Manager Perry Powers (1988) the city had not intended to violate a burial ground, they only wanted to clean up the mess and create a memorial for the dead who were still buried there. There had not been a burial in the cemetery since the 1970's. The cemetery headstones had been terribly vandalized, knocked over and strewn about making it nearly impossible to know who was buried where!
Local teens often partied there after dark, the soft and sinking dirt adding to the creepy-ness.
The City Manager reported “We don't even know how many people are buried there”.
The City had owned the cemetery property since late 1981, according to the news article, but just didn't have enough money to fund the memorial project. Taxes from the new tomato plant were to be used to create what Powers called “a rolling, hilly park with a memorial listing all the people who are buried there”.
Originally, according to onetime Firebaugh City Councilman Renato Landucci in this same Fresno Bee article, his father, Amadeo Landucci and Pompelio Giomi established the cemetery in 1920. Mr Landucci also said it was a burial ground for the early settlers of Firebaugh as well as for the poor or transients. Both Landucci and descendants of the Giomi family had deeded the cemetery to the City of Firebaugh.
An important note here regarding the time frame of the Firebaugh Cemetery.
Mr Landucci said the cemetery was established in 1920. In the Fresno Bee article is the mention of a headstone, one of those dumped behind the water treatment plant, for a Reyes Espinosa who died and was buried in 1905. I've seen that beautiful shiny black headstone... it was still in one piece the last time I was there … and yes, Reyes Espinosa was buried in 1905.
Reyes Espinosa was originally buried in the Pueblo de Las Juntas Cemetery, as were so many other early Firebaugh folks!
… and with that said, we're just about to get into another story
... the story of the Pueblo de Las Juntas Cemetery.
But before we go there let me add that in the 1940's or so, long time Firebaugh resident and building contractor Frank Lopez was hired to move the remains of some of the people buried in the Pueblo de Las Juntas Cemetery
… and place them in the Firebaugh Cemetery.
So there ya have it.
My original anger at the City of Firebaugh, anger fueled in part by Tootie's outrage,
and my sad feelings due to my perceived terrible treatment of the old Firebaugh Cemetery
have now been replaced with just sadness.
Sadness that even though there IS a memorial stone identifying many who were buried there,
and even though the City made a huge effort to honor those now long gone citizens of early Firebaugh, and those of the Pueblo de Las Juntas ...
... we no longer have the beautiful, old, and often thought provoking epitaphs of those early pioneer residents of Firebaugh.
We'll also never know if our Juana Bojorques was buried here, will we?
I just HAD to make another trip, or a few, to Firebaugh!
However... it was the summer of 1998 and I had recently become a Grandma, something that took up quite a bit more of my time...in a very good way! Tiny new grandson was somewhat, no, make that VERY, demanding but, of course, what Grandma can resist?? I spent the first couple of weeks of his new little life helping as often as I could by allowing my daughter to take some much needed long naps while tiny new grandson and I spent many of our afternoons napping together. Nothing better than a newborn baby sleeping across your chest, right? Soft skin, soft breath, wonderful smelling tiny baby. Perfect for kissing the top of his gorgeous little head.
Yeah, yeah, OK, I know, I’m like every other new grandmother. MY grandchild is gorgeous.
Really... he was! … he still is. (so are his two brothers!)
As I looked at this little miracle I knew I had to continue my search to find our Juana Bojorques. This small child is our 9th generation to be born in California.
Juana is his Great, Great, Great, Great-grandmother.
For my tiny new grandson I knew I had to continue ... for him, and for his future siblings!
Now, let's get back to my visits to Firebaugh! There were so many new cousins to meet and "interview” so I found it was always best to call ahead, to schedule a time. This also worked well because some of my newly found cousins didn't often see eye to eye with one another. I made sure I let each one know I was meeting with the others... just to be sure they ALL knew I was there only to learn about the history of our families ...not the family feuds!
I did NOT want to get into any family politics.
Um, yeah ... that didn't work so well.
Good ol' Tootie... of the cemetery at midnight trip... he just seemed to attract a lot of negative stuff.
To this day I still don't know why he was always in such hot water, but boy, talk about causing drama! Just the mention of his name could light the fires!
Another trip to Firebaugh a couple of weeks after my exciting adventure to the cemetery at midnight found me back at Tootie's house. Tootie had tons of details and he loved having a brand new audience ... someone so interested in all the details of the town and the families. Tootie didn't care that I had my little tape recorder going all the time... he said what he thought, ... what he passionately felt. He told me he'd say the same stuff to anyone...
Oh kaaayy... and it was becoming easy to understand why and how he caused all the drama!
As we sat in his living room going through a box of photos and documents Tootie showed me some news clippings from the Fresno Bee. These were from during the time he was running for City Council in Firebaugh years earlier. Seems Tootie wasn't all that happy about the City's proposed park on the property where the cemetery was located.
There was a tomato processing plant coming to town and it meant many new jobs would be available, but it also meant the cemetery was about to become just a park
... next to the parking lot.
Tootie was livid!
Tootie contacted the newspaper and the local radio and TV crews... the whole thing became a really hot topic in Firebaugh... really HOT!
Needless to say, Tootie didn't win the election for a seat on the City Council. Drama.
So Tootie asked me if I'd like to see what had happened to all the headstones that were in the cemetery.
YES! ... of course I wanted to know what happened... Heck yeah! … let's go see the headstones!!!
But this road trip to the cemetery would turn out to be a very sad road trip.
I drove the two of us to the area behind the water treatment plant just outside Firebaugh as Tootie directed. He was guiding me to a place behind some buildings.
I parked the car on the dusty gravely roadway, waving to a City worker Tootie knew, and we got out.
This was mid July.
The entire area was hot and dry.
And full of weeds.
And very quiet.
We walked towards a somewhat steep embankment, then inched our way down over the crunchy dried brown grass and weeds. The dirt was so soft and dry and crumbling under our feet.
Once again I was holding Tootie's arm as his short bow-legs and old worn boots were keeping him from tumbling down face first!
As we reached the bottom of the hill Tootie made a sweeping motion with his free arm for me to look around us...
I was stunned. I could not speak. I just could not think of a single thing to say.
Tootie told me that all the headstones had been scooped up and deposited here.
Dumped behind these buildings to be covered over with weeds and dirt.
THIS is what had angered Tootie so much.
We drove back to Tootie's home in silence. I gathered my stuff and then as a last minute thought I asked Tootie if he'd like an early dinner... it was a little after 4pm. He said yes and we went to one of his favorite Mexican restaurants in town. Great meal... food and service were both so good... but our conversation was quiet. Tootie gave me a few more details about the incident, we finished our food, paid the nice owner and I drove Tootie home again.
Then I drove home... deep in thought, and oh, so sad.
On August 24, 1998 I went back to Firebaugh.
... this visit was with Casey Borboa and his bride Lee on their 47th wedding anniversary!
We celebrated with some goodies Lee brought to the kitchen table while Casey told me wonderful stories of the earlier days and the family. Casey's full name is Escolastico, named for his grandfather Escolastico Borboa, husband of Quirina Buelna who was the daughter of Juana Bojorques!
Casey had great tales, and Lee showed me photos of so many family members. I was writing as fast as I could and trying to remember the names and how they all connected
... and of course my little tape recorder was on and sitting there in the middle of the table.
At the end of my visit with Casey and Lee I asked about Casey's cousin Clemmy... this was Tootie's younger brother who was Mayor of Firebaugh at that time. Casey said I should talk with Clemmy about a list of names of those buried in the cemetery before the headstones were removed. Casey said I could find Clemmy at the City offices... and so off I went, wishing them Happy Anniversary, sharing hugs, and promising to visit again.
Sadly, Casey died a little more than four months later.
I did what Casey told me to do... I drove straight over to the City offices and asked for Clemmy.
The nice lady behind the glass window politely informed me that Mr. Borboa was out of town until the following week but I could make an appointment if I wished. I told her I really just wanted to talk with someone about a list of names of those who were buried in the cemetery before all the headstones were taken away and the one stone monument erected. Her face seemed to drain of all color. She picked up a phone and while carefully cupping her hand over the mouthpiece she loudly whispered to the person on the other end “I don't know who she is, she's just asking about the cemetery and the old headstones!”
… and she kept staring wide-eyed at me through that glass window,
that glass window with the hole in the middle like at the movie theaters.
Didn't she realize I could hear her???
After slowly and carefully putting the phone down she looked right at me without saying a word
.... and my brain was racing ahead thinking was I about to receive a police escort out of town!!
But no... she just quietly said “You need to talk with the Fire Chief”
… huh?? Fire Chief? Why the Fire Chief??? This is way too weird. Drama!
I walked out the door, down the steps, turned to the right, and right into the next building just as she had instructed. The first thing I saw was a man in a chair leaned way back with his feet propped up on a paper strewn desk, his hands carefully clasped behind his head, barely touching his precisely combed hair, as if he had posed himself just in time for my arrival. He stared at me without moving a muscle, then he gruffly asked why I wanted to know about the headstones. Hmmmm, well hello to you too!
I thought we might at least say hello, or something before getting into all this.
Nope... straight to the point. OK. So here we go.
I started by telling him I'd heard headstones had been removed when the parking lot was being built, and the one stone marking the spot of the cemetery didn't have all the names engraved on it. He frowned and said I must have heard wrong, no headstones were ever removed... and then, even more gruffly, he asked who I was and why I was so interested in this whole cemetery thing.
Ahhhh, now we might have some pleasantries!
As quickly as I could say the words I told him I was his cousin and had just spent the last four or five hours with his dad and step mom at their home celebrating their anniversary and sharing family stories and pictures and his dad said I should talk with Clemmy about the cemetery stuff and so I came over here and asked the lady behind the glass window and she called someone and then said I had to go talk with the Fire Chief.
I finished running all those words together without taking a breath and I watched him as he just stared at me.
He stared at me for just a couple of milliseconds.
… and then ya shoulda seen how fast those feet came down off that desk and hit the floor!
It was kinda hard not to laugh out loud.
Seems that when the Mayor wasn't in town the Fire Chief took over. OK, I guess that works.
Fire Chief Borboa didn't have any answers for me either... no one seemed to have any answers when those questions are asked. Or maybe I just hadn't asked the right person yet.
Apparently the only list of those who were buried in the Firebaugh Cemetery before it was converted to a grassy park was from the list of names created from the remaining headstones themselves.
However, according to the folks in City offices, ALL the families of the people who were buried there were notified that the headstones were to be removed so they could claim them. I'm not sure how that worked out... if there's no list of the original burials how could all the families have been notified?
To prevent any more drama... and that possibility of being escorted out of town, I quit asking.
Well, I quit asking people connected with City Hall.
Fast forward to August 2007...
There is an online website called Find A Grave. On that site is the Firebaugh Cemetery created by "MPerry" who posted a photograph of the memorial stone located near the front of Toma-TEK Inc at 2502 N Street just south of Firebaugh. This photo, taken in 2007 has two more names on the stone than in the photo I took in June 1998. MPerry created a memorial page for every person on the stone, with all the information that was available which was ...simply their name.
No birth date. No death date. Nothing but a name. Yet they deserve much more. So much more.
With a major amount of digging (no pun intended!) I have been able to add details to most of the memorial pages for those in the Firebaugh Cemetery. (An ongoing very time consuming project!)
Fast forward again, this time to 2013...
To be fair to those involved, much more research on this entire Firebaugh Cemetery issue has provided additional information on the background of the “grassy hill park” proposed by the City.
According to the news article in the Fresno Bee, 17 Nov 1988... the Firebaugh Cemetery had been neglected for years... weeds overgrowing the grave sites, and no one seeming to take care of, or even cared about the cemetery. According to City Manager Perry Powers (1988) the city had not intended to violate a burial ground, they only wanted to clean up the mess and create a memorial for the dead who were still buried there. There had not been a burial in the cemetery since the 1970's. The cemetery headstones had been terribly vandalized, knocked over and strewn about making it nearly impossible to know who was buried where!
Local teens often partied there after dark, the soft and sinking dirt adding to the creepy-ness.
The City Manager reported “We don't even know how many people are buried there”.
The City had owned the cemetery property since late 1981, according to the news article, but just didn't have enough money to fund the memorial project. Taxes from the new tomato plant were to be used to create what Powers called “a rolling, hilly park with a memorial listing all the people who are buried there”.
Originally, according to onetime Firebaugh City Councilman Renato Landucci in this same Fresno Bee article, his father, Amadeo Landucci and Pompelio Giomi established the cemetery in 1920. Mr Landucci also said it was a burial ground for the early settlers of Firebaugh as well as for the poor or transients. Both Landucci and descendants of the Giomi family had deeded the cemetery to the City of Firebaugh.
An important note here regarding the time frame of the Firebaugh Cemetery.
Mr Landucci said the cemetery was established in 1920. In the Fresno Bee article is the mention of a headstone, one of those dumped behind the water treatment plant, for a Reyes Espinosa who died and was buried in 1905. I've seen that beautiful shiny black headstone... it was still in one piece the last time I was there … and yes, Reyes Espinosa was buried in 1905.
Reyes Espinosa was originally buried in the Pueblo de Las Juntas Cemetery, as were so many other early Firebaugh folks!
… and with that said, we're just about to get into another story
... the story of the Pueblo de Las Juntas Cemetery.
But before we go there let me add that in the 1940's or so, long time Firebaugh resident and building contractor Frank Lopez was hired to move the remains of some of the people buried in the Pueblo de Las Juntas Cemetery
… and place them in the Firebaugh Cemetery.
So there ya have it.
My original anger at the City of Firebaugh, anger fueled in part by Tootie's outrage,
and my sad feelings due to my perceived terrible treatment of the old Firebaugh Cemetery
have now been replaced with just sadness.
Sadness that even though there IS a memorial stone identifying many who were buried there,
and even though the City made a huge effort to honor those now long gone citizens of early Firebaugh, and those of the Pueblo de Las Juntas ...
... we no longer have the beautiful, old, and often thought provoking epitaphs of those early pioneer residents of Firebaugh.
We'll also never know if our Juana Bojorques was buried here, will we?
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