Sentimental Sunday: Meeting the Family

Gilbert Cayetano Huesca (1915 - 2009)
Joan Joyce (Schiavon) Huesca (1928 - 1987)

My parents, Gilbert and Joan Huesca, on
their first trip together - on business!
Saint Louis, Missouri, October 30, 1954.

My parents delayed their honeymoon in Mexico for a couple of months.  I don't know why, but my guess would be that among other things, my father wanted my mother to see Mexico at Christmastime, when the country is at its most magical.

Instead, their first trip was to Saint Louis, Missouri, to the Screen Process Printing Association's Convention, from October 30 - November 2, 1954. My mother was now a co-owner with my father of Lakeshore Printing, the business he had started, and she wanted to learn as much as she could to help make the business successful.

While a convention of silk screen printers may not sound like a romantic occasion for a newlywed couple, the photograph above would suggest that they did not mind much, as long as they could be together. 

In late November, my parents flew south to Mexico City, where my father proudly introduced his beautiful bride to his mother, Catalina (Perrotin) Huesca, his grandmother, Maria (Amaro) Perrotin, and his brothers and sisters and their families.

.

My parents, Gilbert and Joan Huesca, with my
grandmother, Catalina (Perrotin) Huesca, at the
Los Panchos Nightclub (owned by the famous Trio
Los Panchos), Mexico City, December 1954

Talk about love at first sight. The whole large Huesca family turned out to meet them at the airport, laughing and crying.  My mother, who had come from a small family of two children, suddenly had five new sisters and five new brothers.  She was ecstatic. She and my grandmother - my Abuelita - who had been corresponding for several months by now (each in her own language), embraced each other as if they had known each other all their lives.  "Hija mía! - my daughter!," my grandmother cried, thowing her arms around my mother.  Pointing to her stomach, she asked in English, "Baby?"  "Sí!" My mother replied excitedly, as my grandmother hugged her and my father again and again. 

They all went to my grandmother's apartment on Carpio Street, where she prepared a special dinner in her tiny kitchen to welcome my parents.  Long after everyone had gone home, my parents and my grandmother sat up late into the night, talking up a storm.  When many years later my mother would tell us the story of that first night and the days that followed, she would marvel at how she and Abuelita could spend hours alone talking, my mother speaking English and my grandmother speaking Spanish, and yet they seemed to understand each other perfectly.

Catrin (Huesca) and Ricardo Díaz, about 1950

Catrín and Ricardo Díaz, my father's younger sister and brother-in-law, hosted a party to welcome my mother to the family.  My uncle Ricardo Díaz, was a musician and singer in Mexico who was a member of the world-renowned Jarocho group, Andres Huesca y Sus Costeňos.  His nickname was El Pollo, or The Chicken, because of his rotundness.  But his heart and his sense of humor were even greater. 

As the night came to a close, my mother asked my father how to thank her new brother-in-law for his kindness. 

"Muchas gracias," my father instructed her, "tú eres muy amable."

By the time she found Uncle Ricardo, however, the original translation had evolved to, "Muchas gracias, Hermano (Brother). Tú eres un muy gran mueble."  

My ever-smiling uncle, Ricardo Díaz, and my father,
Gilbert Huesca, at my grandmother's home on Carpio
Street, Mexico City, 1972.

The group around them fell silent for a moment.  My father, who was there too, whispered to her, "You just told him that he's a great big piece of furniture."  

My mother was mortified by the thought that she had insulted her host. But Uncle Ricardo loved it.  He began laughing heartily and hugged my mother.  He and my Aunt Catrín were charmed by her earnestness and unabashed effort to communicate in her broken Spanish.  Although my father and his younger sister had always been close, that evening would mark the beginning of a lifelong close fraternal love between the two couples and eventually, their daughters.

My parents' stay in the Federal District came to a close after Christmas.  My father had originally proposed a honeymoon in Acapulco, but they never made it there until many years later. It didn't seem to matter, though. Rather, they went to the 300-year-old colonial town of Tequisquiapan, Querétaro (a two hour drive north of Mexico City), for some much-anticipated time alone. 

The name of the town, pronounced "Teh-keys-key-ah-pahn," seemed to melt in their mouths whenever they would mention it in the years that followed. They said it with reverence and ease and lightness, as if it held a wonderful memory that forever would be known only by them. 

My mother, Joan Huesca, on the balcony of
my parents' hotel, Tequisquiapan, Querétaro,
Mexico, December 1954.

My father was thrilled with his family's warm reception of my mother as one of them, and he delighted in showing her his favorite places and teaching her the language and customs of his native country. For my mother's part, she could hardly believe the surge of love she felt: for my father, for his family - now her family, too; and for Mexico - the magnificent and welcoming birthplace of her beloved husband who she called her "Ranchero," or rancher.  

She would fall in love with the Spanish language, too.  Though she never mastered it the way she had hoped, she always made herself understood by using the language of true communication: sincerity, humility, and love. Truth be told, I think those who knew her loved her more for that than if she had been a master linguist.

Copyright ©  2012  Linda Huesca Tully

Treasure Chest Thursday: Baby Announcement

Gilbert Cayetano Huesca (1915 - 2009)
Joan Joyce (Schiavon) Huesca (1928 - 1987)

About a month after my parents were married, my mother, Joan Huesca, went to the doctor and learned to her great delight that she was expecting their first child.   

(In fact, my mother preferred the term "expecting" a baby to being "pregnant," a term she felt was too clinical and did not suggest the bliss and anticipation that happy new parents feel when they are awaiting the birth of their child.)

She decided to announce the blessed event to my father, Gilbert Huesca, in a special way.  That evening, she greeted him with big kiss and hug and escorted him to the table, where she had prepared a candlelight dinner of steak, mashed potatoes, and green peas. On the steak she had arranged parsley flakes in the shape of letters that read, "I Love You." 

Next to my father's plate was an envelope that read, "Application for Credit."   My father looked at her quizzically and slowly opened the envelope.  As he read the enclosed "application," tears of joy came to his eyes.  He realized this was a very special expression of my mother's love for him - and her grand announcement to him that they were about  to start a family.

My mother, Joan Huesca, taped this form into a scrapbook she dedicated to my father. Below it, she pasted a pair of lovebirds, cut out from an old Christmas greeting card.

APPLICATION FOR CREDIT

                                           Date:  My Lifetime

                                 Name of Co. or Individual:        Joan Huesca

                                 Street:    Wherever you are      City:      Heaven

                                 State:      of Happiness               Phone:  Your heart

                                 Line of Business or Profession:   Loving you

                                           

                                  If  Incorporated, Name of   (1) President:     You

                                                                                     (2) Treasurer:   Baby

                                                                                     (3) Secretary:    

                                   If Partnership, Name of Partners:   Gilbert Huesca

                                   Location of Home Office:                  Your arms

                                   Bank Reference:               My love for you

                                   Business:           Taking care of my darling husband

                                   Business:               "          "      "   our baby

                                   REMARKS:   I love you

                                    Name of person taking application:

                                    REMARKS:

                                    Received at Office:         Sherman Hotel 

                                    Investigated:                   Since August 19, 1955

                                    Disposition:                    Happy State

THIS BLANK MUST BE FILLED OUT COMPLETELY

The form has special meaning to me, as I was that first child - the "honeymoon baby" they were expecting.  

Although my parents' deep love for one another was never a secret to anyone who knew them, least of all their children, every time I look at treasures like this, I still marvel at just how blessed I was to be one of their children.  I will always thank God for having been born to two people who were so in love and so devoted to one another.  

Copyright ©  2012  Linda Huesca Tully

Did you know Gilbert or Joan (Schiavon) Huesca, the Huesca or Schiavon families, or any of the people mentioned in this story?   Are you a member of one of these families?  Share your memories and comments below.

Wedding Wednesday: A Message from Mother and Dad

Gilbert Cayetano Huesca (1915 - 2009)
Joan Joyce (Schiavon) Huesca (1928 - 1987)

Of all the congratulations that my parents, Gilbert and Joan Huesca received on the occasion of their marriage, none was quite so welcome as this one, from my maternal grandparents, Ralph and Alice (McGinnis) Schiavon.  

Undoubtedly, they were taken aback by the surprise telegram from my mother, but in the end they loved their daughter and trusted her.  Recognizing that my parents were deeply in love and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, they put any pride they had aside and sent the newlyweds this greeting card and a lovely floral arrangement to their new apartment.

Although we cannot know what else they were feeling at the time, the words in the card seem to speak volumes about their reaction to the surprise telegram from my mother.  They suggest that while my grandparents may have not have understood why my mother did not share their desire that she have a lavish wedding, they still loved her and wanted her and  my father to be happy. 

I think they would have been pleased to know that my parents' marriage would indeed be very happy, enduring 33 years filled with love and devotion until my mother's death in 1987.

A Wedding Message from Mother and Dad

This comes from Mother

and from Dad,

So you will surely know

That with it comes a lot more love

Than any words could show -

And it brings our fondest wishes

That in days ahead of you

Your hopes and plans

will all work out

The way you want them to;

For you mean

all the world to us, 

And we both want to say, 

"We're wishing every happiness

For Both of You today."

Copyright ©  2012  Linda Huesca Tully

Treasure Chest Thursday: We Were Married Today

Gilbert Cayetano Huesca  (1915 - 2009)
Joan Joyce (Schiavon) Huesca (1928 - 1987)

My mother pasted this card into her
scrapbook.  For the first time, she was
addressed as "Mrs. Huesca" there.  "I was so
proud!" she wrote.

Once my parents were declared husband and wife by Justice of the Peace Miles E. Cunat on August 19, 1954, they went home to pack their clothes for the next few nights.  

They first stopped at the Schiavon home on Saint Lawrence Avenue, then to the apartment my father had rented just a month earlier. Calling his print shop, Lakeshore Printing, he told the  employee who answered the phone that he would not be in until the following Monday.  Then he called his mother, Catalina (Perrotin) Huesca, in Mexico City, his brother Carlos, who was living in Chicago by then, and last but not least, his close friends Luis and Theresa Algarin and Frank and Fern Waples, with the good news.

My parents most likely headed down to the Loop after that, where they checked into the Hotel Sherman, located at the time on Randolph at Clark and LaSalle Streets.  The receipt below shows that they checked in at 8:44 on that evening and stayed for two nights, paying $11.45 per night for their room.  Shortly after arriving in the room, a bellman brought the newlyweds a basket of fruit from the management.

Room receipt from the Hotel Sherman in Chicago.
The hotel, which was located on Randolph at Clark
 and LaSalle Streets in the Loop, closed in 1973.

My mother sat down at the desk and penned a telegram to send her parents, Ralph and Alice (McGinnis) Schiavon, who were vacationing in Miami, Florida.  The draft, which she composed on a piece of hotel stationery, shows her pride in becoming Mrs. Gilbert Huesca:

Dearest Mother and Dad:

We were married today- 

We hope and pray that we have

your love and your blessings.

We are staying at the Sherman

Hotel.

With love always, 

Gilbert and Joan 

  Huesca

Some time after midnight, the phone rang.  

My father answered it.  Fern Waples was calling.  In a cheery voice, she asked, "Hi, Gil!  What are you two doing right now?'

My father shook his head, slightly taken aback.  He grinned at my mother.  "We're playing chess, Fern," he answered.

"Oh.  Great.  Well, have a good time, Gil."  Mrs. Waples said, satisfied, and hung up.

Copyright ©  2012  Linda Huesca Tully

Did you know Gilbert or Joan (Schiavon) Huesca, the Huesca or Schiavon families, or any of the people mentioned in this story?   Are you a member of one of these families?  Share your memories and comments below.

Thankful Thursday: For All Our Saints

Remembering those who have gone before us

Graveyard at All Saints Church, Burton-Dassett, 
Warwickshire, England, where some of my 
husband's ancestors are buried.

At the Chancery of the Roman Catholic Diocese where I work, there is a small chapel, and this morning many of us gathered there for Mass to observe the Solemnity of All Saints, known in other Christian faiths as All Saints' Day.  

The priest celebrating the Mass - for Catholics it is a holy day of obligation - remarked that there are not enough days in the year to give each of the martyrs or the saints his or her own feast day. For this and other reasons, the church designated All Saints' Day as an occasion to remember and pray for all of the holy men and women who have gone before us and lived exemplary and virtuous lives in imitation of Christ.  He reminded us that we pray for all the saints, whether we know their names or not, and we give thanks for the many ways their lives blessed us.

His words got me thinking about the ways we honor our ancestors - handing down our traditions and sharing family names and stories, much as if they were our own litany of the saints, so that our children and our children's children will remember these people who came before us.  If we happen to be family historians and genealogists, we are likely to go a step further, embarking on never-ending quests to learn more about the ancestors we know and to discover the ones we don't as we piece together our family puzzles.

Of course, we hope to find that we came from people of grace and goodness and love, and thankfully, most of the time this is the case. Beyond that, we might learn that some of them lived quietly, some were illustrious in one way or another, and some of them just baffle us as they languish behind those seemingly impenetrable "brick walls" we are always trying to knock down.  In still other cases, we might come across a few ancestors whose lives were, shall we say, less than stellar. But this is part of the deal, and we have to accept what we find, taking the saints with the sinners, understanding that no one is perfect, and trying to make sense of how their lives have affected our own.

The more we come to understand our ancestors - our personal "saints," the better we will appreciate them for who they were and how they handled their struggles and triumphs.  And one more thing: for all the generations between us, we may find that we are not so different from them.  Depending on what kind of person our ancestor was, this can be as enlightening as it can be disturbing.  Usually, though, it is comforting, as we begin to see that if they can accomplish what they did amidst the challenges and hardships of their times, we can do the same.

So today, I'd like to dedicate this post to all of our ancestors - those whose names we know, those whose names we don't know, and the ones in between that we've forgotten for one reason or another.  Thank you - all of you, for being here, for fighting the good fight, and for living the best way you could amid your circumstances. Thank you for your good intentions, whether you succeeded or failed, and for the lessons they taught you - and us.  Thank you for your love and foresight, and thank you for your sense of humor and perspective.  Thank you for the values you passed on to us, whether they came tried and true from generations before or you just learned them the hard way.

Lastly, thank you for your part in laying the great foundation of roots of the family trees from which each of us dangles. Whether you lived lives of importance or obscurity, of saintliness or notoriety, each one of you was here for a reason.  We would not be alive or who we are if not for you.  

Copyright ©  2012  Linda Huesca Tully