This should be the last blog post about my grandfather. I’m going to call him Tony in this round. You may have thought that it would end with the post about his last wife, Sara. Muahaha! You were wrong! He was interesting on his own. When I started my search for family history, I asked Grandma Sara for anything she could send to help me. She sent me Grandpa Tony’s second wallet which was full of all sorts of cool things. She also sent back most of the pictures she had of me as well, and that kind of hurt, but the gold in the wallet was worth it.
This blog is long but it should wrap up the last loose ends I have to share. Get some coffee, wrap up in a blanket, and enjoy.
So let’s see…..when we last left him, Tony was divorcing Manuela and marrying Sara. He and Manuela had a house in Tucson he built for her, but it was her mother that had put up the money for the property. So it was repeatedly mentioned by my great-grandmother that he took the money from the sale of that house. Tony pooled these monies from the divorce/house sale, with savings that Sara had, and they went in to the bar business.
Tony and Sara went to build a business called Tony’s Roundup. No one seems to have a photo of it though. My mom said Tony had the bar custom-built in the shape of a horseshoe. I’m not sure if it was in this bar, or the next, but he also had this print (below) on the wall. This was a commissioned piece for A-1 Beer. Can you see the A-1 branded on the horse? Tony had the A-1 on it fixed to say “ACE,” his chosen initials.
I love the below little treasure I found in his wallet. My mom grew up around guns. She thought she was Dale Evans. Pretty sure she still loves Roy Rogers. Tony respected guns. Being around possible drunks and rough-houser’s while in the bar business, he did have a permit to carry a concealed weapon. The business address was Escalante’s Bar. Both brothers had to carry large amounts of money home late at night. Safety made sense.
Rumor has it that Officer Ruben Ramirez Landa (whose name was listed as Issuing Officer), was a godfather to one of my uncles. OR Tony and Sara were godparents to one of his children. Let me show you how easy it is to swerve off course. I thought to myself: let’s do a quick search through ancestry and Google to try to find a picture of him.
Ruben became a Sheriff , ending his career as an officer for the Department of Justice. He died in San Diego in 1998. Handsome guy!
One of the events in Calexico, was the Calexico Desert Cavalcade. It was a yearly shindig that celebrated the friendship of the sister cities Calexico and Mexicali, and their shared histories. Governors from California, Baja California, and Sonora, Mexico, attended throughout the years.
The event brought in many tourists. It also sparked “town spirit.” One of the more famous photos of Tony follows. He was all bedecked with western wear. He won First Place for best beard at the Cavalcade.
Settling into entrepreneurial life in Calexico, he joined the Elk’s Lodge. He was a member for almost 10 years.
I tried to figure out why Tony decided to leave the Calexico area. My Uncle Jorge said it was because it was so hot in Imperial Valley. I’m not sure if Tony’s Roundup was failing, but they decided to pack it up and move to the cooler temps of Potrero, CA. Tony started a bar/restaurant across the border in Tecate, Mexico. They seem to have left Calexico around 1956. Behind him, the sign gives his hours as 7 am – 11 pm. Mexican and American food was served.
This venture was successful. For a while. Profits were difficult to keep when you are a generous friend and when you loved to keep the party going with your friends. Tony’s dream of paying fewer taxes in Mexico were cut short by payola to officials. After a culmination of years, Tony’s business failed.
While they lived in Potrero, my mom attended a Catholic school in Tecate, Mexico, from 1956-57. She lost a year as she didn’t speak Spanish hardly at all, much less well enough to progress successfully in school. The kids were then put into Campo’s Mt. Empire School District from 1957 to about 1960. My last uncle was brought home in 1959 and adopted into the family because Tony and Sara fell in love with him on the way home. The family was complete. As Tony was known by a nickname, so were his boys: Tony, Buddy C’ckeye, Guy, Butch, Rocky and Jim)
The boys, who had a dad who worked sun up to sun down, were left to their own devices. The older brothers talk about running around the neighborhood. One accidentally set the house on fire after breaking a light bulb in the back room. He and another brother waited for the fire department to come while they sat on a hill. They would go out back and “harvest” whatever it was they wanted to eat for dinner. They would lie on the ground, pretend to be dead, and waited for buzzards to eat them. One uncle had a toe get cut off when he jumped on some glass. The toe was unable to be reattached as the dog had eaten it. Good times.
In the early part of 1960, Tony had a small “crisis.” He had a wife at home going through “the change.” His business had failed. He was feeling under the weather. He left. He was 53 years old at the time. He went to Flagstaff, Arizona. Tony had told my mom that if he ever thought he was dying, he would leave and not look back. My mom had gone to live with her grandmother in Tucson. When she could not reach her dad via phone, she thought the worst and was terrified.
Stories report his journey to Flagstaff was two-fold. The first was to see a doctor. He was probably surprised to find out he was fine. My ABSOLUTELY un-authoritative thought is he was having panic attacks. Stress, mid-life crisis, career goals unfulfilled, a house full of family he needed to care for. Sounds about right. Adulting is very hard. The second reason he went there was to see if he could start a new business. After assessing his situation, weighing what he wanted versus what needed to be done, he decided to return to his family.
While he had been making these self-discoveries, Sara had taken the kids to her mom’s house. They stayed with Nana until Tony rejoined them. He was in it for the long haul.
He settled back into life where he started it, in Ventura County. More specifically, in Port Hueneme. He got a job at the lemon packing sheds. He did the whole Boy Scouts Dad thing. But remember, he was an older dad. He did his best.
I did have a reader notice that the above paper was a Workman’s Comp Order. She asked what he had done to himself to require medical attention. So I asked my mom. Apparently, Tony was a lemon box assembly man. He managed to shoot himself in the hand with a nail gun. Small details! Interesting info!
And the rest is pretty much history. He lived out the rest of his life with his family. He worked to support them. His daughters had moved out and got married. His sons rocked sports in Port Hueneme. His daughters and sons got married. Grandchildren came in flocks, and were sent to the den when we got crazy. When family bonding got to be too much, he went to read in his bedroom. Or could he have been hiding?!? Gasp!
Here are few more things that were hiding in his wallet.
If anyone can tell me who any of the above people are, please do! I am dying to know.
There was a card in his wallet with Standard Battery written on it. The name looked familiar. Digging through my paperwork I found what I was looking for. In 1936, Alberto Bernardo Escalante had become Albert Charles Escalante. Officially. He started his new job with his first wife, Edith. He kept the card in his wallet since 1936. He had even listed this location on his application for his Social Security Card. Sentimental guy….
How does a man with such a varied past get SO many people to love and respect him? My mom likes to remember his snarky comments under his breath. I told her he must have kept them well to himself though because so many people thought he was wonderful. We loved him. All of us.
Tony got sick. After a short illness, he passed away September 22, 1984. The family drifted a bit. I was 16 when I he passed. I was in my own world with priorities that weren’t necessarily family-oriented. When I finally had LOTS of questions to ask him, it was too late to do so. My search for family and their stories started around 5 years after his passing. I’m pretty sure my work will never be quite done.