My Cousin Cooper and I
By Larry J. Rodarte ˙© The Diaz Observer, May 2001
This was a story I wrote while my mom was looking over my shoulder at the computer screen. She was telling me firsthand accounts about her beloved Cooper. She always talked about him all my life, just like she did Tia Carmen. Today, it is only fittting that we republish this story on Memorial Day 2020. Although he did not die in battle, he was enlisted in the service at the time of his passing. We remember that special relative named Cupertino Orozco. Mama loved him and I can only imagine that beautiful embrace they had in the sky. —editor
It was the early fifties, I think, maybe around 1951 and the gang all went to the Savoy Nightclub on Franklin Street in Saginaw, Mich. My mom and dad were strict, but whenever I was out with the Orozco boys, they knew I was safe.
My cousin Coopertino, or Cooper as we called him, had a favorite song, “the Wheel of Fortune” by Kay Starr, and he was playing it all night on the jukebox. We had gatherer on this special night to say goodbye, as it was his last night before he was being shipped overseas. He was on furlough from the United States Air Force.
We had a great night out. Cousin Florencio and Marylee were there, along with her twin sister Mary Sepulveda, Mary Lou Leija and me. Cooper was my drinking partner, even though we didn’t drink much. It was the same old story with Cooper and I— we were the Cabana Kids. When we were underage we would look in the windows of the Cabana for Florencio. Once we were old enough, we thought we were so smart and cool because we could go into the bar.
I want to share my memories of Cousin Cooper because as I have reached 70 year-old this past February, Cooper would be the same age had he lived. I still miss him, and wonder who he may have married, how many kids he might of had, and if he would be a great-grandpa? He died so young at 23 years of age.
My earliest memory of Cooper was when my Dad use to take us to Hoyt park sledding —Florencio, Cooper and I. He was always so clumsy and falling off the sled into the snow. I’ll never forget how the three of us went up that big old slide and came sledding down only to crash into the snow and fall over. We had so much fun. They were like brothers to me. I could talk with them and go out on the town with them feeling safe. They always went along with what I wanted to do and never said no to me.
I would always see them at St. Joe’s Church on Sundays. One day my sister Angela and I were sitting towards the front of the church giggling and talking. Father Scronski actually stopped the mass and told us two girls we better stop talking. I was so embarrassed and then afterwards Florencio would threaten me saying, “I’m going to tell Uncle Joe.” Cooper would never threaten me.
Speaking of St. Joe’s, I remember having a lot of fun in the old hall. One time when we were about 18, Cooper pulled me aside and asked me “Cmon prima teach me how to dance?” So there we were trying to Jidda bug. He was over six feet tall with two left feet and wasn’t very graceful. Poor Cooper he was nothing like his brother Flo when it came to dancing, but he did his best.
When I would go to the Orozco’s sometimes we had to work in the fields and pick tomatoes and cucumbers. Uncle Paul had a big work truck that had a lot of room in the back, so there we would all go. Copper was always so nice because he would always help me carry my bushel for me. I don’t think others liked this.
Looking back I remember one morning My Dad and I went over to Tia Cruz’s house. I didn’t know the boys all slept in one room and I opened the door and I got a shock. I think they slept naked and I was embarrassed because Cooper dashed for a blanket to cover himself. I’ve never told anyone that story until now. I laugh now some 50 years later. They were such good kids and Tia Cruz kept them together.
Angela and I had a nickname for Cooper ever since we were little girls. We called him Cookie, and later when that song, “Cookie, Lend Me Your Comb” came out, we would sing it to him. He never seemed to mind and always laughed. He always called us prima, and never by our names.
Once Florencio could drive that big old truck I would always hear a horn beep outside my house on 6th Street. I would run to the front door to wave to him and Cooper. That is until one day when Florencio got in an accident and split his lip in a half. He must have been about 16.
When I worked at the Pastarillo Grocery Store on 3rd Street, I had three handsome visitors. Cousin Florencio and Cooper had taken cousin Paul Jr. shopping and the three of them came to see me in their new suits. All three six footers dressed really nice. I was so proud they were my cousins. I think they all worked in the Grey Iron by this time.
Boy it was such a long time ago.
Once Cooper graduated from St. Joe’s High School in 1950, he soon volunteered into the Air Force. Many of the young men were being drafted into the Korean War, but Cooper was so patriotic and proud to be in the service. He got stationed in England.
He bought Paul Jr. dressed in a suit; all three were working at the plant. He volunteered for the airforce. We always thought he got sick in Europe stationed in England.
We would write each other quite a bit and I actually saved his letters. I was dating my future husband Val and he would write to him, too. Telling us about his adventures in New York at the Air Force base and his excursions to Rochester. He even wrote to me from Germany, and we were really enjoying life. The next thing I knew, the Air Force was flying him home.
We were young and didn’t think about death. He left healthy and came back sick. I think he contracted something in Europe. I couldn’t believe it; he was never sick.
As soon as they flew him into Saginaw, they put him in the Veterans Hospital on Weiss Street. He was very pale, but happy that I had gone to see him. The family knew he was very sick. I think he had a form of Leukemia. He was home maybe a week before he passed.
My Dad and I went to see him the night before and I kept telling him he was going to get better, but I didn’t know he would die the next morning.
Cooper was so thin and lanky as he lay under an oxygen tent. I said goodbye to my cousin and as Dad and I were leaving the room, I looked back one last time and Cooper waved goodbye to me. It was the last time I saw him alive. It’s kind of funny how he died here instead of at war.
My mom called me while I was working at the Malleable Plant to tell me the bad news. I just walked right at the plant and crossed over the Center Street Bridge crying. I ran to my mother’s friend’s house and she gave me a ride home. We then went straight over to see Tia Cruz. Cooper really was the first to go in the family, four years before Aunt Carmen. He died February 11, 1954.
Once in a great while I’ll dream about Cooper, but II have to tell you about what happened to me shortly after he passed away. I was already married and Val and I were stationed in Junction City, Kansas. It was the summer of 1954 and I was walking to the bus station. While standing at a street corner a car was turning right before me. When I looked at the driver I saw Cooper’s face. His big ol’ Orozco eyes. He looked right at me and didn’t even look at where he was driving. I even yelled out his name in shock. “Cooper, Cooper!” To this day I still wonder if that was really him. It was his face. Maybe it was a sign to me that he was okay.
Cooper was a wonderful cousin, and he sure did love all of us. Our family ties go way back, not just now since we’ve had the reunions. We were all close, and I can remember a time when it was just Florencio, Cooper, Paul Jr., my sister Angela and me. We were the only grandchildren until Richard Orozco, Lenny Medel, Steve Diaz and Theresa Stricker came along in the 40’s.
Cooper and I were amazed that Tia Cruz was still having babies, when she had Margie, Mary Helen, Rosie and Juanita. He used to call them girls “My Little Darlings.”
Cooper would be amazed at how many relatives we have today. I know he would because I am. I sure do miss him at the reunions. Florencio too, but I know they are their in spirit. I often wonder why God too him so young, yet I know that He has his reasons. Still I know Cookie; someday we will be together again.
It was the early fifties, I think, maybe around 1951 and the gang all went to the Savoy Nightclub on Franklin Street in Saginaw, Mich. My mom and dad were strict, but whenever I was out with the Orozco boys, they knew I was safe.
My cousin Coopertino, or Cooper as we called him, had a favorite song, “the Wheel of Fortune” by Kay Starr, and he was playing it all night on the jukebox. We had gatherer on this special night to say goodbye, as it was his last night before he was being shipped overseas. He was on furlough from the United States Air Force.
We had a great night out. Cousin Florencio and Marylee were there, along with her twin sister Mary Sepulveda, Mary Lou Leija and me. Cooper was my drinking partner, even though we didn’t drink much. It was the same old story with Cooper and I— we were the Cabana Kids. When we were underage we would look in the windows of the Cabana for Florencio. Once we were old enough, we thought we were so smart and cool because we could go into the bar.
I want to share my memories of Cousin Cooper because as I have reached 70 year-old this past February, Cooper would be the same age had he lived. I still miss him, and wonder who he may have married, how many kids he might of had, and if he would be a great-grandpa? He died so young at 23 years of age.
My earliest memory of Cooper was when my Dad use to take us to Hoyt park sledding —Florencio, Cooper and I. He was always so clumsy and falling off the sled into the snow. I’ll never forget how the three of us went up that big old slide and came sledding down only to crash into the snow and fall over. We had so much fun. They were like brothers to me. I could talk with them and go out on the town with them feeling safe. They always went along with what I wanted to do and never said no to me.
I would always see them at St. Joe’s Church on Sundays. One day my sister Angela and I were sitting towards the front of the church giggling and talking. Father Scronski actually stopped the mass and told us two girls we better stop talking. I was so embarrassed and then afterwards Florencio would threaten me saying, “I’m going to tell Uncle Joe.” Cooper would never threaten me.
Speaking of St. Joe’s, I remember having a lot of fun in the old hall. One time when we were about 18, Cooper pulled me aside and asked me “Cmon prima teach me how to dance?” So there we were trying to Jidda bug. He was over six feet tall with two left feet and wasn’t very graceful. Poor Cooper he was nothing like his brother Flo when it came to dancing, but he did his best.
When I would go to the Orozco’s sometimes we had to work in the fields and pick tomatoes and cucumbers. Uncle Paul had a big work truck that had a lot of room in the back, so there we would all go. Copper was always so nice because he would always help me carry my bushel for me. I don’t think others liked this.
Looking back I remember one morning My Dad and I went over to Tia Cruz’s house. I didn’t know the boys all slept in one room and I opened the door and I got a shock. I think they slept naked and I was embarrassed because Cooper dashed for a blanket to cover himself. I’ve never told anyone that story until now. I laugh now some 50 years later. They were such good kids and Tia Cruz kept them together.
Angela and I had a nickname for Cooper ever since we were little girls. We called him Cookie, and later when that song, “Cookie, Lend Me Your Comb” came out, we would sing it to him. He never seemed to mind and always laughed. He always called us prima, and never by our names.
Once Florencio could drive that big old truck I would always hear a horn beep outside my house on 6th Street. I would run to the front door to wave to him and Cooper. That is until one day when Florencio got in an accident and split his lip in a half. He must have been about 16.
When I worked at the Pastarillo Grocery Store on 3rd Street, I had three handsome visitors. Cousin Florencio and Cooper had taken cousin Paul Jr. shopping and the three of them came to see me in their new suits. All three six footers dressed really nice. I was so proud they were my cousins. I think they all worked in the Grey Iron by this time.
Boy it was such a long time ago.
Once Cooper graduated from St. Joe’s High School in 1950, he soon volunteered into the Air Force. Many of the young men were being drafted into the Korean War, but Cooper was so patriotic and proud to be in the service. He got stationed in England.
He bought Paul Jr. dressed in a suit; all three were working at the plant. He volunteered for the airforce. We always thought he got sick in Europe stationed in England.
We would write each other quite a bit and I actually saved his letters. I was dating my future husband Val and he would write to him, too. Telling us about his adventures in New York at the Air Force base and his excursions to Rochester. He even wrote to me from Germany, and we were really enjoying life. The next thing I knew, the Air Force was flying him home.
We were young and didn’t think about death. He left healthy and came back sick. I think he contracted something in Europe. I couldn’t believe it; he was never sick.
As soon as they flew him into Saginaw, they put him in the Veterans Hospital on Weiss Street. He was very pale, but happy that I had gone to see him. The family knew he was very sick. I think he had a form of Leukemia. He was home maybe a week before he passed.
My Dad and I went to see him the night before and I kept telling him he was going to get better, but I didn’t know he would die the next morning.
Cooper was so thin and lanky as he lay under an oxygen tent. I said goodbye to my cousin and as Dad and I were leaving the room, I looked back one last time and Cooper waved goodbye to me. It was the last time I saw him alive. It’s kind of funny how he died here instead of at war.
My mom called me while I was working at the Malleable Plant to tell me the bad news. I just walked right at the plant and crossed over the Center Street Bridge crying. I ran to my mother’s friend’s house and she gave me a ride home. We then went straight over to see Tia Cruz. Cooper really was the first to go in the family, four years before Aunt Carmen. He died February 11, 1954.
Once in a great while I’ll dream about Cooper, but II have to tell you about what happened to me shortly after he passed away. I was already married and Val and I were stationed in Junction City, Kansas. It was the summer of 1954 and I was walking to the bus station. While standing at a street corner a car was turning right before me. When I looked at the driver I saw Cooper’s face. His big ol’ Orozco eyes. He looked right at me and didn’t even look at where he was driving. I even yelled out his name in shock. “Cooper, Cooper!” To this day I still wonder if that was really him. It was his face. Maybe it was a sign to me that he was okay.
Cooper was a wonderful cousin, and he sure did love all of us. Our family ties go way back, not just now since we’ve had the reunions. We were all close, and I can remember a time when it was just Florencio, Cooper, Paul Jr., my sister Angela and me. We were the only grandchildren until Richard Orozco, Lenny Medel, Steve Diaz and Theresa Stricker came along in the 40’s.
Cooper and I were amazed that Tia Cruz was still having babies, when she had Margie, Mary Helen, Rosie and Juanita. He used to call them girls “My Little Darlings.”
Cooper would be amazed at how many relatives we have today. I know he would because I am. I sure do miss him at the reunions. Florencio too, but I know they are their in spirit. I often wonder why God too him so young, yet I know that He has his reasons. Still I know Cookie; someday we will be together again.
