The Hula-Hoop Queen of S. 12th
By Larry J. Rodarte for the Diaz Observer Online
All around my house I have treasures of Diaz family history. It could be something written in letter form stuffed away in a box, high up on a shelf, or a cassette tape of an interview from years ago. Even old VHS tapes I find in a desk drawer. Today while looking for a taped interview of one our tias, I opened an antique sewing stand and I found this picture of Lizabet’s wedding.
It made me laugh and gasp at the same time because I remember that day vividly. But let me take you back first and explain Lizabet. You see cousin Pauline and I call her Lizabet, not Liz or Elizabeth, but Lizabet because well, you’d have to know her to understand. And she’s been called that by the older generations too.
I remember years ago, my mom and Chelo talking about when Elizabeth Castañeda was born. After her dramatic entrance into the world, Chelo remembered seeing her baby briefly before the nurses took her away to clean her. As they took her baby away, Chelo exhaustedly looked over the blankets to see her beautiful light-skinned newborn.
Later on when they brought the baby back to her, Chelo knew something was wrong. Really wrong! She called the nurse, and said, “This is not my baby!” They called the doctor in, who proceeded to admonish Mrs. Castañeda.
“You should be happy with what the good Lord gives you,” the doctor said. But Chelo insisted the baby she was holding was not hers, because she held a darker, Mexican skinned baby. Upon investigation, the doctor was dumbfounded; his patient was right! Somehow at Saginaw General Hospital they had mixed up two babies, and gave them to the wrong mothers!
Luckily for us, they switched the babies back, and we know they got it right because the Lizabet we now know looks a lot like her father. Good for you Chelo for being persistent!
So the baby girl grew up on South 12th Street in Saginaw near Lapeer St. and she ruled the neighborhood. Lizabet had a way about her as a go-getter. Chelo and Gilbert purchased an aboveground pool, and their daughter would bribe the neighborhood kids with a task— if they didn’t complete it— then they couldn’t go swimming! Well of course they all did what she asked. Even the cousins who came to visit were put to work!
Lizabet was very good with money. She should have been a banker. I remember her having carnivals where tons of kids came, and she had games lined up to make money for the Jerry Lewis Telethon. She had us hula hooping back in 1969, in contests to see who kept that hula-hoop up the longest. Can you guess who would win? Imagine “Penny Lane” by the Beatles blaring with a Hula-Hoop around Lizabet’s neck.
Chelo was a hustler in those days too; selling Avon, washing and ironing clothes for her Polish neighbors and knitting afghans she would then sell. Chelo was always a worker and this is where her daughter got her hustle.
Back in the day, Yvonne Hernandez lived in a little grey house with her boys David and Tony; next door to her was Paul and Lucy Orozco’s house with an army of kids, then Chelo and Gilbert’s home, and then my grandparent’s home, Joe and Odelia Diaz. Four Diaz family homes on the block, and eventually Paul and Lucy moved down the road, and Tia Cruz stayed in the house. But you can ask the Orozco girls: Chris, Julie, Theresa or Pauline, just who ruled 12th St. and they will tell you: Lizabet!
I do remember one day, my sister Nancy was taunted by a young girl on the block, and guess who came to the rescue? It was Lizabet, along with her sidekick Joanne. After a few words, it was Lizabet who slapped that bully across the face, and she went crying down 12th Street. Oh my God, who remembers this besides me?
For years my prima Lizabet called me “Dopey” because of my big ears that my head had to grow into. She graduated from St. Peter and Paul High School in 1973, and had my Mom and Dad take her and three girlfriends to Cedar point for their Senior Trip. We left early in the morning in the family cruiser— an early 1970’s Chevy Station wagon with a pea-green stripe. Lizabet and her friends were jammin' in the back in the fold down four-seater to “Will It Go Round In Circles ” by Billy Preston. They loved that song.
Lizabet had this big white cat and she named her snowball, she loved that darn cat! And I swear she had green eyes like Liz.
HER BIG DAY
On May 15, 1976, I remember standing in the back of the entrance of the old St. Joseph Catholic Church, right there by the heater. Cousin Rosie Heredia had put her 5-month-old daughter Naomi in her car seat on top of the register, and I can still see those big Orozco eyes. Suddenly the church doors open and there was the bride.
Wow, I was in shock! Liz was so beautiful all in white. I thought, “No way! This can’t be my crazy cousin!” She must have seen my reaction ‘cause she laughed at me — My 12-year-old self staring! Her veil was fluffy with cloth roses on top and it really made her look amazing. I guess I never occurred to me that I would see the Hula Hoop Queen dressed as a bride.
The organ started playing so we took our seats and I saw that scoundrel Marty Garcia walking to the front of the church. And we know the rest is history. The couple would have Laura, Michael and Priscilla and will celebrate 44 years of marriage in about two weeks.
Two months ago before we all went into quarantine, I was running out of the Bringer Inn restaurant because it was raining, when a car almost hit me and beeped the horn loudly. It startled me dead in my tracks, and guess who the driver was? Yes, good ol' Lizabet, laughing and saying, “get outta the way,” Marty laughed too as I stood there like a tonto in the rain.
It’s been a real joy with Lizabet all these years, and from 12th Street to Liz’s Party Store, to Louise Street, she has always made me laugh, and laughs with me remembering our early days on 12th. Thanks for the good times prima, and may you always continue to Hula-Hoop and hustle! Yours truly, Dopey
It made me laugh and gasp at the same time because I remember that day vividly. But let me take you back first and explain Lizabet. You see cousin Pauline and I call her Lizabet, not Liz or Elizabeth, but Lizabet because well, you’d have to know her to understand. And she’s been called that by the older generations too.
I remember years ago, my mom and Chelo talking about when Elizabeth Castañeda was born. After her dramatic entrance into the world, Chelo remembered seeing her baby briefly before the nurses took her away to clean her. As they took her baby away, Chelo exhaustedly looked over the blankets to see her beautiful light-skinned newborn.
Later on when they brought the baby back to her, Chelo knew something was wrong. Really wrong! She called the nurse, and said, “This is not my baby!” They called the doctor in, who proceeded to admonish Mrs. Castañeda.
“You should be happy with what the good Lord gives you,” the doctor said. But Chelo insisted the baby she was holding was not hers, because she held a darker, Mexican skinned baby. Upon investigation, the doctor was dumbfounded; his patient was right! Somehow at Saginaw General Hospital they had mixed up two babies, and gave them to the wrong mothers!
Luckily for us, they switched the babies back, and we know they got it right because the Lizabet we now know looks a lot like her father. Good for you Chelo for being persistent!
So the baby girl grew up on South 12th Street in Saginaw near Lapeer St. and she ruled the neighborhood. Lizabet had a way about her as a go-getter. Chelo and Gilbert purchased an aboveground pool, and their daughter would bribe the neighborhood kids with a task— if they didn’t complete it— then they couldn’t go swimming! Well of course they all did what she asked. Even the cousins who came to visit were put to work!
Lizabet was very good with money. She should have been a banker. I remember her having carnivals where tons of kids came, and she had games lined up to make money for the Jerry Lewis Telethon. She had us hula hooping back in 1969, in contests to see who kept that hula-hoop up the longest. Can you guess who would win? Imagine “Penny Lane” by the Beatles blaring with a Hula-Hoop around Lizabet’s neck.
Chelo was a hustler in those days too; selling Avon, washing and ironing clothes for her Polish neighbors and knitting afghans she would then sell. Chelo was always a worker and this is where her daughter got her hustle.
Back in the day, Yvonne Hernandez lived in a little grey house with her boys David and Tony; next door to her was Paul and Lucy Orozco’s house with an army of kids, then Chelo and Gilbert’s home, and then my grandparent’s home, Joe and Odelia Diaz. Four Diaz family homes on the block, and eventually Paul and Lucy moved down the road, and Tia Cruz stayed in the house. But you can ask the Orozco girls: Chris, Julie, Theresa or Pauline, just who ruled 12th St. and they will tell you: Lizabet!
I do remember one day, my sister Nancy was taunted by a young girl on the block, and guess who came to the rescue? It was Lizabet, along with her sidekick Joanne. After a few words, it was Lizabet who slapped that bully across the face, and she went crying down 12th Street. Oh my God, who remembers this besides me?
For years my prima Lizabet called me “Dopey” because of my big ears that my head had to grow into. She graduated from St. Peter and Paul High School in 1973, and had my Mom and Dad take her and three girlfriends to Cedar point for their Senior Trip. We left early in the morning in the family cruiser— an early 1970’s Chevy Station wagon with a pea-green stripe. Lizabet and her friends were jammin' in the back in the fold down four-seater to “Will It Go Round In Circles ” by Billy Preston. They loved that song.
Lizabet had this big white cat and she named her snowball, she loved that darn cat! And I swear she had green eyes like Liz.
HER BIG DAY
On May 15, 1976, I remember standing in the back of the entrance of the old St. Joseph Catholic Church, right there by the heater. Cousin Rosie Heredia had put her 5-month-old daughter Naomi in her car seat on top of the register, and I can still see those big Orozco eyes. Suddenly the church doors open and there was the bride.
Wow, I was in shock! Liz was so beautiful all in white. I thought, “No way! This can’t be my crazy cousin!” She must have seen my reaction ‘cause she laughed at me — My 12-year-old self staring! Her veil was fluffy with cloth roses on top and it really made her look amazing. I guess I never occurred to me that I would see the Hula Hoop Queen dressed as a bride.
The organ started playing so we took our seats and I saw that scoundrel Marty Garcia walking to the front of the church. And we know the rest is history. The couple would have Laura, Michael and Priscilla and will celebrate 44 years of marriage in about two weeks.
Two months ago before we all went into quarantine, I was running out of the Bringer Inn restaurant because it was raining, when a car almost hit me and beeped the horn loudly. It startled me dead in my tracks, and guess who the driver was? Yes, good ol' Lizabet, laughing and saying, “get outta the way,” Marty laughed too as I stood there like a tonto in the rain.
It’s been a real joy with Lizabet all these years, and from 12th Street to Liz’s Party Store, to Louise Street, she has always made me laugh, and laughs with me remembering our early days on 12th. Thanks for the good times prima, and may you always continue to Hula-Hoop and hustle! Yours truly, Dopey
