A Beginning, One of Thousands…

We all had a starting point in Brighton Park. Our family and where they came from. Our connection came from across the northern border, southern border, across the Atlantic, across the Pacific or we simply were already here, if we were Sauk, Fox, Miami, and Potawatomi. Chicago was then known as the 'wild onion' or 'shikaawaka.'

Of course, we now know that the French were the first Europeans to cross California Avenue and Pershing Road before it was California Avenue and Pershing Road. Jean Baptiste Pointe du Sable is credited with discovering and laying claim to the area now known as Chicago, incorporated in 1837, and the rest is history. I think we're well versed in Chicago's history and have some pretty good ideas of Brighton Park's history.

But Brighton Park would not be Brighton Park if not for our families coming from all directions. Their journey, their quest to settle here, raise a family, work, buy a home, and grow old is a dream most of us have currently. I think we can surely state with some confidence what our status is now. Mine has been here in Chicago for the past 47 years. Work in Brighton Park currently; married, one daughter in college and one in high school. I am in the middle of my life, fingers crossed.

When my grandfather arrived in the United States from Yuriria, Guanajuato, Mexico, he was probably around eighteen or nineteen years of age. He was part of the Bracero Program, a program that brought Mexican workers to the United States to work in the fields and railroads in much of the southwest. He was the first to come from Mexico in my family.

He himself had immigrant roots - he was first generation Mexican; his father came from Spain.  I did not know my great-grandfather, but I did know my great-grandmother, Pachita. She lived to be a 110!

My grandfather worked in the fields in Texas, but didn't like that type of work much, so he traveled on what was called 'the migrant stream.' He worked on the railroad from Texas to Pennsylvania to Illinois.    The work that he did was referred to as 'el treke' or translated as 'the tracks.' Fixing, installing tracks along the railroad system that eventually led to the hub of the country, Chicago. My grandfather landed in Argo, Il, a small village outside of Chicago. There were several Mexican families living there already, specifically from the town of Yuriria in the state of Guanajuato.

Back then, if you had a sponsor, a family that would vouch for you, a job, and references that included law enforcement from the city or town, you had no problem staying and starting a new life. Thus my grandfather stayed in Argo for some years. Eventually, he would leave the railroad and work for Reynolds Metal Company in McCook, Il. Reynolds and the plant that was there and employed thousands is gone now. My grandfather moved to Chicago - Brighton Park to be exact. The building where he moved to is still there., a two story, framed house 3223 W. 38th Place.  He lived on the second level.

My grandparents lived on the second floor of this building -  3223 W. 38th Place.
Vacant lot next to it and different colored facade in 2014.

Here I am at 3223 W. 38th Place in the living room with my grandfather.  

My grandfather lived in Brighton Park for approximately twenty years, bringing my grandmother, my mother, and my three aunts as well in 1957-58. He started his life in the Chicagoland area in '53, and through sponsorships and close-knit ties with Yuriria and other towns in Guanajuato, he would bring a young man at the age 16 to Argo, too. That young man was my father.

My grandfather worked for Reynolds for approximately 19 to 20 years. He retired at age 62 in 1973. I remember the work boots, the lunch pail, and the overalls. I remember his walk and I remember that you didn't make a noise after 9 pm at my grandparents' home. Not only was my grandfather the first person from my family to come to Chicago, he was the first person in my family to retire and benefit from his hard work, raise a family and grow roots in Brighton Park.

That was our beginning, the Fernández-Rodríguez creation story. My mother's parents, the Rodríguez, were the initiators of our family. My grandfather was a part of the millions that experienced the 'push and pull' of immigration. Leaving their country for a better opportunity to work and send money back home, start a new life, start a new family, leave a revolution, leave to eventually return again covered in gold! My grandfather did that. After working in Chicago for 20 years and in the United States for well over 40 years plus, he retired and returned to Mexico, to Yuriria. He lived the American Dream and passed it on to his family that stayed in Brighton Park that would attempt to do the same. He earned it.

My grandfather represented all that is good. Not all that was perfect, but what was this young boy's fondest memories. Those days of walking down Pershing Road holding his hand. Or walking to this store on Kedzie Avenue between 38th Place and Pershing Road.

My grandfather and I at McKinley Park.  Lagoon is right behind us. 
One of several walks around the park.

I remember that store for two reasons. The first was a particular gentleman: heavy set, always wearing dark glasses, wearing a white t-shirt, grey pants, white-slick back hair either sitting in that store's entrance or roaming down Kedzie Avenue. Never too far from the store it seemed.

The second reason: that's where my grandfather bought me my first baseball cap. Hold your breath Brighton Park people, because it was a Cubs baseball cap! I have been a Cubs fan ever since. What do you expect?  You put a black cap with white letters in front of a four year-old versus a royal blue cap with a bright, red 'C', and I think the entire south side would be cheering for the Cubs right now. Maybe not?!  By the way, my grandfather was a White Sox fan, but he never interfered with this four year-old's choice.

Besides introducing me to eternal baseball misery, he introduced me to my first adventures in BrightonPark. Although within a few blocks radius of his home, I was introduced to a new world. My grandmother would also introduce me to the fascinating world of Huck Finn's Donuts, White Castles, and David Berg's.

My grandfather returned to Chicago every year after retiring in '73. In 1995, he returned again for a check-up after beating cancer in 1990. He would never leave Chicago again.

I owe him as we owe many people for our beginning. The foundation laid by people from all over the world that helped build Chicago, helped build Brighton Park. Helped build our memories of living in BP.