On the outskirts of the town of Greeley, Colorado is a community known as the Spanish Colony, a Barrio, Only three or four streets run through it and it consists of one small grocery store owned by Mr. Garcia. It was in this Spanish Colony that I was born seventy three years ago. I don't recall how long we resided there, and I don't have many childhood memories except what my mother told me about the History of our family. I do remember that my paternal grandparents lived in the corner, and my grandfather owned a barber shop behind their home. According to my mother this is where most of the men in the Barrio hung out in the basement to drink and gamble. Across the street was a large dance hall.
All my ancestors lived in New Mexico, before they migrated to Colorado. My parent's marriage was an arranged one. My mother's mother died in New Mexico during the Spanish Influenza epidemic. After this their father left for Chicago to work for the Henry Ford Company. She and her two brothers were raised by their grandparents.
A Hispanic Evangelist came to Greeley seeking a place to plant a church. He found a place in this Spanish colony and a church was established. My grandfather donated his house, barber shop and land for the church to get its start. This church still stands. My grandparents moved to a small town known as Kersey, and my father purchased a ranch in the mountains. From there we migrated to Arizona, and that's where I was raised.