Network Aztlan Latino Chicano Comunidades Transnacionales

What I Saw at Laguna Park

Gilbert Cano

Upper most in my mind over the last 32 years since we organized for, and participated in, the August 29th Moratorium March. Many wonderful and sad facts have been presented. From the factual statistics which demonstrated our over representation in the war in comparison to the general population of the United States; to the obvious police plan (or predisposition) to use force to brutally attempt to stamp out Chicano organizing efforts; to the changes and organizations that sprang from the August 29th March.

As important as all of the expressed views are, what remains burned in my memory is the mindset change that many other "Mexican-Americans", and I Chicanos, Mexicanos and Latinos experienced. I will always remember how frijoles, arroz, tortillas and Mexican music were some of the strongest tools that we used to go into public parks so that Raza was given food. Then they listened to speeches about why the Chicano Moratorium Committee was formed and why we were opposed to the war in Viet Nam. Our strategy was simple. We would arrive (unannounced) at a public park, fill one or two pick nick tables with food, set up a tape player with Mexican Music, or someone would get out a guitar and sing Mexican songs. The rest of us would fan out through the park and invite families, or anyoneelse to join us for some free food.

The most important work was done quietly on a weekend basis when many of our people were in public parks with their families, friends or sweethearts. We were able to get the average person to think about, and question the Chicano involvement in Viet Nam. We educated in the true sense of the word, construction workers, housewives, students, children, bus drivers, and in general the cross section of our people that attended the parks where we explained our antiwar efforts.

I remember that at that time, in order to earn a few dollars, I worked as a poll watcher in my voting precinct in East Los Angeles. A Chicana housewife was also working at the voting place. She and I got into a discussion about the war in Viet Nam. That matronly Mexicana floored me when she told me that she had made up her mind about the war in Viet Nam. She informed me that she had been in one of the parks where we had put on one of our organizing "feeds". She said that the speeches had forced her to rethink her position on Viet Nam. She said that as result, she had told her husband that if her son received a notice to go into the service, she was going to take him to Canada and that he would have to send them a weekly allowance until the war ended.

My own case is also worth mentioning. I dropped out of James A. Garfield High School, enlisted in the Army for three years, and returned home so conservative that politically I was to the right of Attila the Hun. Upon my return, I went to the unemployment office and sought career counseling. There, I was informed by an old fart of a lady that Mexicans were good working with their hands, and she advised me to enroll in a trade school and learn a trade.

After learning a trade and drinking my checks away because I was working at a trade that I frankly hated as a vocation, I literally fell into hanging out with you and the other organizers of the Chicano Moratorium Committee. I remember to this day the shock of the realization that went through me when I realized that, in effect, I had been used to screw myself. In my journey towards my "Americanization", I had gone from Mexican to "Spanish"; and from an innocent kid from East Los Angeles to a "Lets bomb the shit out of THEM - And I don't care who them is" fool. When the truth hit home, I was so devastated that I would have preferred that I be made to stand naked in an auditorium in front of everyone that I had ever met (including the nuns at Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic School) rather than look inside myself and face the fact that the system had used me to fornicate myself.

My case was not unique. My mother always complained about the word "Chicanos", she also complained about you and the other moratorium organizers because she blamed the Chicano Moratorium for my having become, in her words, a "mitotero". Yet, without being asked to, she cooked pounds and pounds of menudo and dozens of hand made tortillas to help feed the people who were expected to show up for the march. I later found out that even though she suffered from asthma, she would not let anyone help her cook the menudo or make the tortillas because that woman, who only finished the second grade, said that she knew our cause was just. The same held true for other members of my family. My brother was an ex-paratrooper, and he marched. My brother-in-law was a paratrooper in Viet Nam; he and my sister both marched. My uncle was a World War II veteran, and although he didn't march he supported us.

I also was informed that there was Latina a Catholic nun who was with us in spirit. They did not march, but they were praying with us from their convents.

In summation, this is what remains of August the 29th for me. We touched, and changed, people in a way that caused them to make a 180-degree change in their social consciousness. Yes, we were able to bring Chicano issues before the American public. Yes, we were able to add our voice to the national clamor to get out of Viet Nam. Yes, we were able to show statistics about the injustice we suffer at home, while we were over represented in the Vietnamese War. More importantly, we were able to reach people who had never heard or, far less, understood statistics. We reached, and permanently changed, a wide range of our people. We involved the "little guy" and made him or her feel a sense of belonging and purpose. As an example, I want to relate an incident that happened to me after the police attacked the gathering at Laguna Park (now Salazar Park). I happened to stop a small market in West Los Angelesa few days after the march. I was with some friends and we were talking about the police action of August the 29th. The gentleman behind the counter (a Latino) overheard us. He asked us if we were from the Moratorium Committee. When we informed him that we were, he began crying and told us that what had happened in Laguna Park was an injustice. He also told us that the Anglo customers teased him by making uncomplimentary remarks about the march, but he said that the march, and what it stood for, made him feel proud of who he was.

I realize that what I am submitting may ring as "corny" compared with the other stories that were articles that were submitted. However, I believe that it is an aspect that is important.

A Re-Demonstration of the Chicano Movement

By JOSE CARDENAS, TIMES STAFF WRITER August 23 2002

Protests: The marches against the Vietnam War will be marked with photos, films and a panel of participants.

As a young amateur photographer, Kathy Gallegos trekked 32 years ago to the Eastside of Los Angeles, where thousands were gathering for a series of anti-Vietnam War protests. Fearing one event would turn violent, she left early, missing history in the making. Now, the 53-year-old owner of Avenue 50 Studio in Highland Park is hosting an exhibit, including photos and newspaper articles, that captures much of the history she missed. "We are all getting older, and I think the young people need to hear what happened," Gallegos said. The exhibit is one in a flurry of activities--art, films, a peace rally, a panel discussion and a prayer service--being held today through Aug. 30 to commemorate the anniversary of demonstrations in 1969 and 1970 known as the Chicano Moratorium. (Information regarding schedule of events is at www.aztlannet.com.)

The original Moratorium aimed to protest the fact that Mexican American soldiers were dying in the Vietnam War in higher proportion than their numbers in the general population. Although there were several demonstrations on the Eastside months apart, to some, the Chicano Moratorium is synonymous with the Aug. 29, 1970, protest at Laguna Park, the gathering of 20,000 people that resulted in violent confrontations with police. When the dust settled, three people were dead: Angel Diaz, Lyn Ward and Ruben Salazar--a Times columnist and news director of KMEX-TV.

Although activists through the years have marked the Moratorium with marches and other events, this year's anniversary has a larger number of activities. The members of the committee that organized the original Moratorium are chiming in. At one event, special guests will include Rosalio Munoz, Ramses Noriega and David Sanchez, all members of the original committee.

But Chicano Moratorium 2002 isn't meant only as a nostalgic exercise, according to members of the original committee, whose protests drew thousands from throughout the Southwest and from as far as Puerto Rico. There's a current relevancy, organizers say, given the possible war against Iraq. "We are also again at a time of military escalation, as the Bush administration is calling for a prolonged war on terrorism," said Munoz, 56, the chairman of the original committee. "That has many of us worried about the denial of rights in our Constitution." Munoz, who works in advertising but through the years has protested things such as Proposition 187--which would have denied public services to illegal immigrants--was a key character in the original Moratorium.

A former UCLA student body president, Munoz helped spark the Moratorium in 1969 when he refused to be inducted into the military. The Moratorium is perhaps the best remembered of what was a series of protests reflecting social unrest nationwide. There were about 30 protests in Latino communities all over the Southwest, from Fresno and Stockton to Albuquerque and San Antonio, to parts of the East, including and San Juan, Puerto Rico. "There is so much history that it's incredible that it was crammed into such a short period of time," said Nancy Tovar, 66, a retired graphic designer who is contributing memorabilia, items such as pictures of marches, to the Avenue 50 Studio exhibit.

The commemoration presents a perfect occasion for art expression, organizers say. Many of those involved in the original events have matured to produce such things as books and memoirs. But the event also presents a chance to pick up the protest against some of the same issues that, organizers say, have not changed. Regarding the possible war against Iraq, "I believe that the same thing will happen that happened during the Vietnam action, that Chicanos in disproportionate numbers will be going into the military," said Rudy Tovar, 80, Nancy Tovar's husband, who recalls police hurling tear gas at him and others at one protest. Besides the military issues, other bad conditions for Mexican Americans persist, said Carlos Montes, 54, a member of the Brown Berets who said he fled the country in 1970 to avoid police and prosecutors who were hounding him over his involvement in protests. "The same conditions that we marched against are still here today: the attacks against the health system, overcrowded schools and the threat of war," said Montes.