Annotations for Dates: 1973

They came by the thousands to the 40-acre ranch near Delano to pay their respects to the man who had fought an entire lifetime to give dignity and more opportunity to those who picked the food on America's tables. César Chávez, founder of the United Farm Workers Union, the first successful attempt to organize agricultural workers in this country, died April 23 at age 66. In Delano, the mass procession behind Chávez's simple pine coffin was at times over two miles long, as everyone, from farmworkers to the famous, came to pay their respects.

We shall miss…we shall miss César's powerful voice. His life and its example call each of us to a higher purpose, to greater resolve, to right the wrongs, to correct the injustices that continue to plague our communities, whether it's urban or rural, industrial or agricultural. It is an honor to remember his valiant life and to recommit myself and that of my colleagues as we go forward to try to bring for our children and our children's children the vision and the dream that we share. Entonces, con su permiso…hablo poquito en Español.

[Crowd cheering]

César Chávez es mi hermano, mi amigo, mi compañero. ¡Viva la raza! ¡Viva la causa! ¡Viva César Chávez!

[Crowd cheering]

A proclamation by the President of the United States of America upon the death of César Chávez. "César Chávez came from the humbled yet proud beginnings of a migrant worker to lead those same workers in a movement that irreversibly shaped our nation and brought justice and dignity to thousands. After the Depression ..."

In 1965, I believe, or '66, we marched with César here in Delano. On the efforts to do something about publicizing the boycott and the plight of farmworkers.

He moved us in a way that has come to be known as el movimiento y la causa.

Repeat after me. Boycott grapes! Boycott grapes! Boycott grapes!

In his loving…in his loving memory, please, boycott grapes. Make sure that our children do not have to suffer the pesticides anymore. What has happened to César will happen to all of us, and may we all be as lucky as César and be able to lay our heads down, close our eyes while reading a magazine on the Aztec nation and go to sleep and end our lives in that manner. We should all be that lucky.

¡Nosotros venceremos! ¡Nosotros venceremos ahora!

The life of César Chávez, his commitment to a cause, inspired many across the country, and as thousands gathered at the memorial service in Delano, California, Diana Martínez collected these thoughts from friends and supporters of César Chávez.

Nosotros venceremos.

Whether from a celebrity, politician, or average citizen, everyone who came to pay their respect seemed to have a story about how César Chávez touched their lives.

His life was an example to people, and millions of Hispanics and millions of Americans who will never live on a farm had their lives changed by him.

Mark Grossman first met Chávez in 1969 as a student. Grossman worked summers and vacations on the grape boycott from 40 Acres, United Farm headquarters in Delano. He learned firsthand how César was always able to get people to do a little more than what they first expected. Grossman wound up working for the union for 24 years and became his press secretary and personal aide. No one, he said, worked harder than the labor leader.

No one could tell César Chávez to slow down. The man was working 20-hour days, traveling constantly. I can't count the number of times that I'd meet him at his yard…you know, at 3 o’ clock in the morning, because…at La Paz near Bakersfield, because we had to be in Sacramento or San Francisco at 11:00, and we'd spend a full day of appearances and rallies and news conferences and protests or negotiations and be back dropping him off at 3 o’ clock the next morning.

Before becoming a politician, California State Senator Art Torres also worked for the UFW. As a young man, he was inspired by his unbending principles.

I remember, one time, we were driving from…Thermal, California in 1973 and the two dogs were in the back, Boycott and Huelga, and we stopped at a gas station…and we had just come from a rally. We had collected all this money, and I said, "Well, brother, we need to pay the gas bill." He says, "You're not going to touch that money until it's accounted for, back at La Paz." I said, "But we have no money to pay for the gas." "Then you go out there and you find the money from somebody else, but you're not going to touch that money because that has to be accounted for. It's the workers' money."

Senator Robert Kennedy, Jr., says his family became more aware of the power of the Latino vote because of Chávez.

I remember in the 1980 campaign when he came to Arizona, which he didn't have to do, during a primary, when Senator Kennedy was already in bad shape in the election, but he produced hundreds of lowriders who came with him because they were devoted to him to get out the vote for us on primary election day. He went into the field, sent organizers, had them register actually in the field, and we won the state of Arizona just because of César.

My first job that César gave me when we came to Delano was to go get the money from the workers at $3.50.

Dolores Huerta was with Chávez from the very beginning. She said he always knew gaining rights for farmworkers would mean tremendous sacrifice.

I went back to César, and I said, "César, they can't afford that much money." And he said, "If they don't give that $3.50, they will never get out of their poverty.”

Father William Wood, president of the National Catholic World Life Conference, and the Reverend Jesse Jackson, say Chávez will never be forgotten.

Because of our common faith, and especially with what I see here tonight, with the face of the people, I see that that it's really true when they say "Viva César Chávez." He really does live.

Chávez was a seed sower. He planted seeds of dignity, and those seeds will keep sprouting in the heart of people. As long as farmworkers fight for a decent wage, Chávez lives. As long as they fight against the horrors of the insecticides, Chávez lives. As long as they fight for the right to vote, Chávez lives. As long as they fight to build coalition, Chávez lives.

For Latino USA, I'm Diana Martínez.

I'm Maria Hinojosa. Today on Latino USA, remembering a 20-year-old case of police misconduct.

Santos is a symbol of what was happening to the Mexican-American community and the African-American community back in 1973. It can never happen again. It's like those bumper stickers: Remember Santos, nunca mas. Because there were a lot of other Santos' all throughout the United States. There's a lot of other Rodney Kings.

And the musical legacy of Cachao, the creator of the Mambo.

Cachao has been, in a sense, overlooked for his contributions musically to the world of music. Musicians know of him and anyone would say, "Oh, he's the master," but in terms of the general public, he's been really ignored.

That's all coming up on Latino USA. But first, las noticias.

The incident that happened 20 years ago with Santos Rodriguez certainly cast a shadow or a cloud over the city of Dallas.

Santos is a symbol, a symbol of what was happening to the Mexican-American community and the African-American community back in 1973.

20 years ago this summer, a 12-year-old boy named Santos Rodriguez was killed by Dallas police officer Darrell Cain. The incident occurred after the boy and his brother were pulled from their beds in the middle of the night, accused of breaking into a soda machine at a gas station. The boys denied taking part in the robbery. Santos was killed when Officer Cain attempted to wring a confession from him by playing Russian Roulette with a loaded gun. The incident ignited protests in Chicano communities throughout the country, and recently members of the Latino community in Dallas held a full day of events to commemorate Santos' life and death.

[Background--Hymns]

A memorial service for Santos Rodriguez was held at the Santuario de Guadalupe in downtown Dallas, just south of the neighborhood called Little Mexico. Now mostly an African-American neighborhood, back in 1973 it was the heart of the Mexican barrio.

In 1973 I was 14 years old and I didn't know Santos even though I lived about three blocks from his house.

Now, a member of the Dallas City Council, Domingo Garcia recalls the early seventies when Santos was killed, as a time when minorities had absolutely no political clout in Dallas. "We were invisible Dallasites," he says. "Vulnerable to mistreatment by authorities." He himself remembers being stopped often by the police.

Being put up against the wall and pressed. What was my crime? Happened to be brown, happened to be young, happened to be on the streets, especially if it was after dark. And it wasn't like just one time, it was just common, and it wasn't just common to me, it was common to most of my friends. And so, in that type of environment, the police were seen not as the people who protected you, who were there to serve and to protect, but in essence as an occupying force. And when you see that type of relationship between a community and a police department and in a political establishment, then you see the tragic consequences of what happened to Santos Rodriguez.

We're trying to make correction within the police department. That's the reason the Latino Police Officers Association formed nearly two years ago.

Dallas Police Officer Gil Cerda, President of the Dallas Latino Police Officers Association, says that, "20 years after the death of Santos Rodriguez, there are still problems with the city police department."

20 years ago it was more blunt. Hispanic police officers would face discrimination on a daily basis. Today it's faced covert. In other words, they're not going to come out flat outright and tell you, "Hey, you know what? I don't like Hispanic officers being on the police department," but it's out there.

Dallas police spokesperson, Sandra Ortega de King says, despite two shootings of Mexican men by Dallas police officers in recent years, the relationship between the city's police department and the Latino community is better, more lenient, she says than ever before.

They are listening a little bit more to the community because the community within the Dallas area has grown. Population of the Hispanics has grown so dramatically. Just the city of Dallas is 20% Hispanic.

Councilman Garcia believes relations between the police and the Hispanic community of Dallas have come a long way since the death of Santos Rodriguez, as the Latino community has grown and slowly become a part of the city's political structure.

As a police department is diversified, we've seen that now the police department is looked on on a more favorable light. Crime has gone down and the amount of police abuses has gone down. Before Santos, police abuse was institutional and systematic. After Santos it became more sort of haphazard. What we need to learn about Santos Rodriguez's death, is that it can never happen again. It's like those bumper stickers. Remember Santos, nunca mas, because there were a lot of other Santos' all throughout the United States, there's a lot of other Rodney Kings.

City council member Domingo Garcia of Dallas, Texas.

That among the 12 people on hunger strike is 32 year old Camilo Garcia who left Cuba four years ago.