Deportees- Named at Last

On January 28, 1948, a plane chartered by US Immigration, left Oakland carrying 32 people, 28 Mexicans and the American crew.  Some were deportees, others part of the government-sponsored bracero program whose ride home was part of the contract.  Twenty miles west of the Coalinga the plane's engine exploded, bringing down the plane, and killing all on board.  News accounts reported the crew names, but referred to the passengers as "deportees," even though many were on government sponsored contracts.

Woody Guthrie read about the crash.  In response he wrote a poem protesting the anonymity of the workers.  A schoolteacher named Martin Hoffman set the poem to music.

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon

A fireball of lightening, and shook all our hills

Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?

The radio says, "They are just deportees."

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?

Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?

To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil

And be called by no name except "deportees?"

It's a song I grew up knowing, and a song that has shaped how I think of people.  It's a song with a sad ending for those anonymous individuals and their families.  People needed for our economy, but either ignored or looked down upon.  Their story has finally come to an end.  Here's how...

In 1974, Jaime Ramirez came to the United States.  He was 18.  He knew his grandfather had died in the US in a plane crash along with an uncle.   He planned on looking for their graves.

In 2009, writer Tim Hernandez was doing research at the Fresno County Library.  He had been listening to the Guthrie's song as part of his research, and couldn't get the lyrics out of his mind when a 1948 headline about the crash caught his eye.  He began to wonder  if their families back home ever knew what happened.

In 2011, Carlos Rascon was appointed Director of Cemeteries for the Diocese of Fresno.  In making rounds of the cemeteries, Rascon noticed a bronze marker noting the death of "28 Mexican citizens who died in an airplane accident."  It "didn't sit right" with him.

Eventually Hernandez's and Rascon's paths crossed.  Through their collective research names, often misspelled and missing in part, were discovered.  They wanted to do something to honor those 28 previously nameless.  They raised money and looked for the families.  As their monetary goal was nearing they hadn't found a single family member.  However, after meeting Nora Guthrie, who told him, "My father believed in the importance of names," Hernandez agreed the time had come to dedicate the memorial.

Meanwhile, Ramirez told someone about his grandfather who told someone else who had seen an article about the memorial.  In June, Jaime Ramirez met Tim Hernandez.

On Labor Day, a fitting date, a monument etched with four falling leaves bearing the initials of the Americans surrounding a list of the 28 Mexican citizens' names will be unveiled in front of an oak tree in Coalinga still blackened from that crash all those years ago.  It's about time.

To read the article about this too long delayed event, go to http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-deportees-guthrie-20130710-dto,0,2642231.htmlstory

To hear Woody Guthrie's and Martin Hoffman's beautiful tribute, check out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8lRf6fATWE.