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Chapter 25: Daddy's demonsDaddy was a man with his share of troubles
While picking cotton at Midvale Farms, Mama met Federico Duarte, my Daddy. Daddy was from the small mining town of La Colorada, Sonora. His mother, Carmen, had brought him and his two older brothers, Ricardo and Agustín, by wagon to Naco, Ariz., when they were young boys in 1914.
The mother and sons eventually moved from Naco, following the seasonal crops in the farm fields of Pima and Pinal counties. When Mama met Daddy in the fields at Midvale, Daddy had left a wife and five children behind in Eloy. He later divorced. Daddy and Mama married and my brother, Raymond, was born at Tucson Medical Center in 1954. I was born there in 1956. I loved Daddy and I felt very close to my paternal uncles, aunts and some of my cousins while growing up. But when I grew older, I realized Mama suffered a lot because of Daddy. We all did. Daddy appeared to be happy-go-lucky fella, but he carried a demon. Mama's prayers to God and the santos didn't change that fact. Neither did my prayers. I was 17 when my father died at Tucson Medical Center after a severe stroke. Father George Reardon, then pastor at St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church, helped me let go of my father when the doctors told us that Daddy's brain was mush and he was breathing because of the machines attached to his body. I remember Father Reardon telling me: ``I'll be with him and administer last rites before they remove the machines. It will be all right.'' That gave Mama and me so much comfort. Maybe hell wasn't in store for Daddy. Daddy's death saddened me, but Mama and I also felt relief. The story of my father is not one I can tell right now. Mama doesn't ask for much, but she did beg her daughter, the journalist, not to tell it. The journalist in me tried to change her mind, but lost. Mama has had enough pain in her life. I will oblige her and tell the tale later, or maybe never. For now, I'll just say that the life of Federico Duarte was richer for Mama's influence, even if her faith and prayers could not overcome his demons. After my brother was born, Mama went to work in the mornings for a wealthy couple, Dan and Billie Liverman. They lived in a white, ranch-style home just west of the Santa Cruz River, north of Ajo Way. After she signed on with the Livermans, the county hospital finally offered her a job. Mama stayed on with Mrs. Liverman ``because she had just hired me and I gave her my word.'' That was important to Mama. Later, she realized she should have taken the county job. She could have worked her way up at the county, and she could have received benefits and a pension. Mama earned $20 a week for working as a maid in the mornings. In the afternoons, she joined Daddy and other relatives in the fields. She paid her sister Florencia $5 a week to baby-sit Raymond. Mama did not want more children. She couldn't afford them. When she got pregnant with me, she was tempted to give me away. She and Daddy had just taken over the payments on the trailer and lot on South 16th Avenue where sister Florencia and her family had lived. Florencia's family had moved to the house her mother, Dolores, was buying on Michigan Street after Dolores decided to return to Clifton. Daddy, with the help of his brothers and their sons, built a two-room adobe house and moved the family from the trailer into the house. The toilet - with running water - was built in a room separate from the house. The family bathed in a washtub. Mrs. Liverman knew Mama's situation. She wanted, but had been unable to have, children. She asked Mama to think about giving her the baby she had growing inside her. ``I will give the baby a good life, everything a child could want,'' she told Mama. ``We were so poor and I wondered about it,'' my Mama says today. ``I told Federico, and he got angry. `No, we are not giving away our baby.' '' Mama knew he was right, but she thought about everything her child would have with the Livermans - a beautiful house with indoor plumbing, nice clothes, travel, good schooling. Fortunately, I was just too cute. ``When you were born, there was no way I could give you away. You were my baby, and I loved you,'' Mama tells me. I first heard the story in fourth grade. I had eavesdropped at a window while she told Uncle Johnny's wife, Nina Eleanor, about her decision. When Nina Eleanor left, I asked Mama through tears to explain why she didn't want me. She hugged me tight and told the story over. She said I was one of God's most precious blessings in her life. I felt a little better, but it took time for all the hurt to go away.
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Ch. 1: Field of death
Ch. 18: The New Deal
Ch. 24: Cotton pickers and copper miners Ch. 27: The family doubles its size
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