Senobio Diaz of Piñícuaro
Grandpa Senobio was from the town of Piñícuaro, Guanajuato from the rough terrain of Rancho Getrudis. He learned to read and write fluently in Spanish and spoke moderate English. He had many sister and brothers and his parent's names were José Maria Diaz and Epitacia Tenorio Diaz.
Senobio worked on the railroad in America while he was young, trying to send money back to Cecilia in Mexico, while she lived on Rancho Getrudis with her in-laws after their marriage. Grandpa learned to work the land and he was farmer, but once in Saginaw he did work at Saginaw Grey Iron Plant, shoveling coal into the hot burners. It is believed that this dirty hazardous job is what cause him to have bronchitis, which led to his death in February of 1964. Often he came home filled with black coal dust that probably led to black lung disease. He was described as a quite man, yet he knew the importance in becoming a United States citizen, with its benefits. He raised his hand at city hall with a number of other immigrants sometimes in the late 1940’s. ( See picture below from the Saginaw news)
Let’s read some words from of his youngest child Adella as she recalls sweep memories of her father.
From Maria Adella Diaz Chantaca April, 1994
I thank the Lord for my wonderful father. In spite of all the work he had to do on the farm, he still found time for me. Soon I , too, was writing my aunts and uncles in Spanish and they wrote back.
Eventually Papa let me write the letters for him. My Tia Natalia can testify to this because for years we corresponded by letters. When she came to Saginaw for the first time, I felt like already knew her. She became my buddy from then on and we continued to write. My Tia remembered me on several holiday and kept in touch with my cousins in Chicago. Although I have to admit, I got a little lazy so I would just call.
After these lessons with Papá, he’d get up and say it’s time to feed the animals and get things ready for the next day. My dad worked from dawn until night. IN the hot summers he would work hard in the fields. I would take him water and tacquitos and we’d sit on the dirt ground in the shade eating together.
I remember how hard he worked and looking up at his tired face. I could see sweat pouring down from his brow. Quickly I would stand up, take his straw hat off and wipe his forehead. He would close his eyes and I know how refreshing that must have been to him.
After awhile he would take another drink of water and say “Dile a tu mamá —que voy a trabajar hasta que se neta el sol,” (tell your mom — that I’m going to work until the sun goes down.) I wondered why so late, but now I know. It was shim alone that had to work. My God, all that land he had to plow by horse and his power — plowing, planting and weeding. During this time everybody had already left the farm, only my brother Fred and I were still at home. Later when Freddy got older, he’d help with the tractor— when it worked.
Sometimes after Papá would go home from the fields, he’d still have to feed the farm animals. I would help and hold the old lantern up for him while he did his chores. To me it was such fun because I would touch and play with the little piggies. I would also help Papá milk the cow. At first I would watch because I couldn’t quite get the hang of it. Sometimes I would kneel and Papá would say “Abre lo boca” (open your mouth) and he’s squirt milk in my mouth and it would go all over my face. We’d both laugh and laugh. That’s how I acquire the taste of warm milk. Mmmmm I can still taste it. To this day I do not drink it cold.
After he was done with his chores we’d walk home together hand-in-hand because I was always afraid of the dark. On the farm, even though there was moonlight, it was very dark!
Senobio worked on the railroad in America while he was young, trying to send money back to Cecilia in Mexico, while she lived on Rancho Getrudis with her in-laws after their marriage. Grandpa learned to work the land and he was farmer, but once in Saginaw he did work at Saginaw Grey Iron Plant, shoveling coal into the hot burners. It is believed that this dirty hazardous job is what cause him to have bronchitis, which led to his death in February of 1964. Often he came home filled with black coal dust that probably led to black lung disease. He was described as a quite man, yet he knew the importance in becoming a United States citizen, with its benefits. He raised his hand at city hall with a number of other immigrants sometimes in the late 1940’s. ( See picture below from the Saginaw news)
Let’s read some words from of his youngest child Adella as she recalls sweep memories of her father.
From Maria Adella Diaz Chantaca April, 1994
I thank the Lord for my wonderful father. In spite of all the work he had to do on the farm, he still found time for me. Soon I , too, was writing my aunts and uncles in Spanish and they wrote back.
Eventually Papa let me write the letters for him. My Tia Natalia can testify to this because for years we corresponded by letters. When she came to Saginaw for the first time, I felt like already knew her. She became my buddy from then on and we continued to write. My Tia remembered me on several holiday and kept in touch with my cousins in Chicago. Although I have to admit, I got a little lazy so I would just call.
After these lessons with Papá, he’d get up and say it’s time to feed the animals and get things ready for the next day. My dad worked from dawn until night. IN the hot summers he would work hard in the fields. I would take him water and tacquitos and we’d sit on the dirt ground in the shade eating together.
I remember how hard he worked and looking up at his tired face. I could see sweat pouring down from his brow. Quickly I would stand up, take his straw hat off and wipe his forehead. He would close his eyes and I know how refreshing that must have been to him.
After awhile he would take another drink of water and say “Dile a tu mamá —que voy a trabajar hasta que se neta el sol,” (tell your mom — that I’m going to work until the sun goes down.) I wondered why so late, but now I know. It was shim alone that had to work. My God, all that land he had to plow by horse and his power — plowing, planting and weeding. During this time everybody had already left the farm, only my brother Fred and I were still at home. Later when Freddy got older, he’d help with the tractor— when it worked.
Sometimes after Papá would go home from the fields, he’d still have to feed the farm animals. I would help and hold the old lantern up for him while he did his chores. To me it was such fun because I would touch and play with the little piggies. I would also help Papá milk the cow. At first I would watch because I couldn’t quite get the hang of it. Sometimes I would kneel and Papá would say “Abre lo boca” (open your mouth) and he’s squirt milk in my mouth and it would go all over my face. We’d both laugh and laugh. That’s how I acquire the taste of warm milk. Mmmmm I can still taste it. To this day I do not drink it cold.
After he was done with his chores we’d walk home together hand-in-hand because I was always afraid of the dark. On the farm, even though there was moonlight, it was very dark!
Grandpa Senobio, Papá Nobo, Dad
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SENOBIO'S SLIDESHOW
