Leaving el Pueblo

I lived the first 3 years of my life in Barrio Adelanto, which if you are a Tucsonense, that was pretty much Old Pascua, right there on Calle Sierra. My parents said I used walk on over to my tata's house on the next street over at the tender age of two years old. I don't remember too much, other than some of the little kids who lived around there and the toys we had outside. Lets see there was el Caca Morning (our nickname to him), this kid who always had full diaper in the morning... and then there was el Yo yo,(Yo-yo because his snot always retreated and advanced on his upper lip), both of them lived down the street. I can see my mother cooking dinner in the small kitchen and little flashbacks of some of the rooms...but not too much.

I always trip out my parents who constantly remark on my memories, but I honestly think that this is another go around on this trip we call life. Well, for me at least. Some I can't distinguish from dreams or images that I imagined as this little boy. A few were ethereal in nature, I cherish those. I'll remember certain toys and this shack in the back that had some of my dad's tools and some toys. My parents have other memories of course... like the time my brother and I were taking a bath in this big tub outside I was like 2 and he must have been 1 year old. According to my parents, they were inside for a few moments and when they returned my brother had a lizard in his mouth and was licking it like a lollipop. I guess the dude had some fast reflexes, he always was the athlete of the bunch.

So I only lived there for three years because my father made a decision one day, you see as much as my dad's family had roots in that neighborhood, there was also some crazy stuff going down. this was the early 70s and I can still remember seeing people strung out and Hippies at the old AJ Bayless Store on Stone and Grant.

Barrio Adelanto did not escape some of the social ills of that time or for any time both past and present. From what I know the decision was based on a few things. My father had purchased about 3 acres of land in Avra Valley. He was thinking about building on it when he retired. So he had land... Then I guess there was also an incident with me and my brother playing with some syringes that were tossed in the alleyway. He must have been horrified to see that. So I am supposing that those two scenarios hastened his and ultimately our exodus from there.

I get these flashbacks, and at times it seems like I lived a very discombobulated existence as a child. I remember, hmmmm I remember being inside the double wide trailer lookin down into some hole, it must have been for the venting and the other early memory of my new home was playing with our dog Tovi. I loved it out there, all of the potential that desert land for our family was nice to grow up with. Trees being planted, my fathers quest to terraform the landscape to capture the rain water during the monsoons, has now resulted in a perfect little oasis as their back yard.

And so our humble new existence in Avra Valley began, I know my jefitos loved it, my mom was born in Durango (as in Durango, Mexico) so she was accustomed to the monte. As for my dad he was a migrant worker. My dad's family had lived here for generations, the only jobs they could get in the 50s and 60s were through the piscas and he grew up during growing seasons in far off locales such as Cloverdale and Fresno California.

The country felt right for him.

I do miss Avra Valley and all the little things like the old store that was basically a little singlewide trailer with a single gas pump. That was where my nino would buy candies for us when he was visiting my dad. Our next door neighbors who as my parents described were basically hippies who lived in this mini commune.

And the nights were so quiet, now I can't even imagine sleeping without the sounds of the city. As a child I would lay awake at night and the only sound you could hear at night was an irrigation pump, I used to think that it was the sound of the mechanism of our planet, kind of like the earth's pulse...and I would lose myself in profound thought and drift off to sleep.



I haven't heard that old irrigation pump in ages now...and every once in a while I wonder if it is still pumping away and keeping time of all the memories and wishes of other young children.