Walking with purpose — Approximately 100 participants took part in this year’s Dia de los Muertos Caminata (march) commemorating La Matanza of 1915, which occurred locally. (Courtesy photos/Albert Villegas)
By ALBERT VILLEGAS
Special to the NEWS
Over 100 people, many participating in a walk of remembrance from W.H. Heavin Memorial Park in San Benito, gathered at the La Matanza 1915 state historical marker in San Benito.
The marker, which is located at Exit 16 (rest area) along U.S. Interstate 69 south of San Benito, was erected on Oct. 14, 2017.
It has since been used as a rallying cry and destination point not just to remember, but to recognize the need to bring past injustices to light in the present day.
Among those at the La Matanza (Spanish for massacre) marker, were three descendants of La Matanza victims, who agreed that their relatives were killed in cold blood, murdered for being of Mexican origin.
The names of the deceased were Father Donaciano Cerda and his son Paulino Cerda in 1915 (living relative Trinidad Gonzales, of McAllen); Father Desiderio Flores, Sr., and his sons Desiderio Flores, Jr., and Antonio Flores in 1915 (living relative Ada Cavazos, of Harlingen); and Miguel Guillen in 1899 (living relative Alfonso Guillen, Jr., of San Benito).
“I’m filled with pride, but also sadness about being here,” Guillen said. “My relative was actually killed before 1915, but it’s related to the same topic – it was the ‘rinches’ who were not all Texas Rangers, but hired hands by landowners.”
Cavazos carried on a piece of paper the names of her relatives who settled in an area that eventually became Harlingen, San Benito, and Rio Hondo. The trio were shot in early August, Cavazos said.
She was told their deaths are documented in a report called, “A Matter of Justice: The Uninvestigated Homicides of La Matana.” It was written by Gonzales, who is co-founder of Refusing to Forget, which pursues, he said, “justice for the victims of La Matanza.”
Cavazos stood between Guillen and Gonzales as they shared the horror stories of their relatives, with the historical marker just feet away.
The first couple of paragraphs on the marker read as follows: “In the late 19th and early 20th century, racial tensions near the United States-Mexico border and the lower Rio Grande Valley erupted into violence. The change from ranching to commercial agriculture and a shift in racial hierarchies led to increased discrimination against Mexican-Americans and Mexicans in the region.”
The assembly at this site has coincided with the annual Dia de Los Muertos Caminata and Protest, which is now in its sixth year.
San Benito Municipal Historian Jose Carlos, who is with the San Benito Cultural Heritage Museum, has been the master of ceremonies for the past two years.
He described the walk as a path of remembrance that was a “pivotal moment in our history,” and afterwards, he recognized a black and white portrait of Rodolfo Muniz.
“He is the only victim mentioned by name on this historical marker; he was lynched on this road in 1915, and was one of many hundreds, if not thousands of victims of this period of violence. May he and everybody else who was lost not be forgotten,” Carlos said.
One of those who walked along the 3.5-mile route southbound on Business 77 was San Benito Mayor Ricardo Guerra, who said “history is doomed to repeat” if it’s forgotten.
“I want to thank you for (continuing) to bring this to our attention,” the two-term elected leader said. “There was a lot of history we lost.”
Two others speakers, attorney Alberto Garcia and State Rep. Erin Gamez (District 38), shared their opinions about past injustices here and how it has become eerily similar in today’s society.
Garcia, from Austin, explained how the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo (ratified in March 1848) would impact thousands on both sides of the Rio Grande, which was officially recognized as the border between the United States and Mexico.
Garcia said the treaty allowed Mexican nationals to obtain citizenship if they chose to live north of the river, which is now comprised of South Texas, particularly the Rio Grande Valley.
Garcia said the treaty allowed former Mexican citizens to continue owning and, in some instances, operating as ranchers on their Texas property, but with the advent of barbed wire in the 1870s, it literally changed the landscape as more Anglos moved to Texas, taking up ranching and then agriculture, he said.
In the decades following the treaty, Garcia told attendees at the event that former Mexican nationals had their property rights violated through U.S. court decisions.
Their acreage, numbering in the tens of thousands, was sold way under market value.
Garcia, who became the first Hispanic judge in Travis County in 1976, often said that disputes, as far north as what is now Kleberg County, became violent.
“There were large ranches with more land readily available, farming started growing and it started the infiltration of migrant Anglos into South Texas,” Garcia said. “With them came their same traditions, same prejudices that still exist today.”
Their way of living was adopted and to continue their lifestyle, Garcia said, enforcement was required.
“A lot of them created their own police force, let me say it … the ‘rinches’ … the Kleberg Ranch Texas Rangers, even though they were not qualified, trained, but upheld the laws of this state, resulting in incredible brutality all around close to the border from here to El Paso,” Garcia said.
Garcia, who has been an attorney more than 40 years, said history like the numerous lynchings of Mexican-Americans at the hands of Anglo mobs and lawmen has been omitted from school books at every level, including children’s.
Garcia was young once and admits stories of injustices against his own people he dismissed as just tall tales. But, he eventually became educated and grew uncomfortable with the hidden truth.
“Our history never made it into our textbooks, and they want to keep it that way,” Garcia said. “(Texas Gov.) Abbott right now wants to do everything to keep La Matanza from being part of our history because that way they continue doing what they’re doing to us now. How many people died in La Matanza from here to El Paso and every other county along the border, nobody really knows.”
He said if you want justice today, vote those who have abused their power out of office.
Rep. Gamez’s, like that of Mayor Guerra, praised the cool temperatures and the sun that shined down on them when she spoke. But her words became chilling.
“We’re here to celebrate, and it’s a remembrance of an extremely monumental time in history. It’s a time, and it pains me, and I hate to say it, but it feels…you are here because you know it doesn’t feel too far off. We’re here to talk about extreme acts of violence and terror,” Rep. Gamez said. “But you’re here because you know it feels like we’re finding this in other insidious tiny forms that take shape in our lives now, and they’re trying to take over our community.”
Rep. Gamez, whose district covers most of Cameron County, blamed the system that currently affects Americans, especially her constituents of Mexican descent.
“They’re doing this in the form of gerrymandering; who here knows what those words are now?” asked Rep. Gamez, alluding to the redistricting map that is being introduced in the state.
The definition, according to Merriam-Webster Dictionary, is “to manipulate the boundaries of (an electoral constituency) so as to favor one party or class.”
She said the controlling party in Texas, which happens to be Republican, works hand in hand with the President to bamboozle Americans.
She said there was a district with a community divided into thirds, and it removed 294,000 South Texas residents north of Nueces County, which is near Corpus Christi.
“It is a different kind of violence when you silence our voice and our vote; it is a different kind of violence to attempt to break your spirit,” Rep. Gamez said.
Ricardo Madrigal and his wife, Janie Alegria, have worked to bring the yearly event to the community for the past six years.
They placed a wreath under the historical marker, bringing the event to a close.
“It means a lot that there are still this many people after years of putting this event together,” Madrigal said. “To still believe in what we are doing and trying to do means a lot.”