Chapter 11: Mimi's Life Story
La Familia and the California Fairs 
"We all grew up."

In 1945, when World War II was over,  Earl Warren, Governor of the state of California  offered uncle Oscar  a job as his personal  airplane mechanic.  The quality of his work and reputation had followed him.   

When uncle Oscar was discharged, he was thoroughly shocked to find out that the records showed he was not an American citizen.  Uncle Oscar came in with the family, as an 8-year-old.  Oscar thought when grandpa became a naturalized citizen, he, as a child, was under grandpa's citizenship.  Apparently at that time, it was not the policy.   I don't know if he was deprived of any rights. 

Instead of accepting the job offer from Gov. Warren, uncle Oscar went into business with the family, older sisters, Estella Ratto, Elia and her husband Gilbert Valdez, and youngest sister, Alba and her husband, Charles  Schultz, an officer on a Navy destroyer.

I called aunt "Alice" and told her I was writing my life story and was including a chapter on working the fairs.  "I really grew up with the fairs," I said.  She responded matter-of factly, and with a definite sense of humor in her voice  "We all grew up with the fairs." 

Tia Alicia recalled the history in detailed of how becoming concessionaires started. I  remembered broadly. Tia filled in the details.   I remembered a cement floor brick building, when I was in junior high, soaking and cleaning corn leaves and applying masa on the leaves.  Yes, she said.  The family first started producing a very successful line of hand-made tamales, freezing them and selling them directly to restaurants.  

Freezing was rather innovative.  To expand the diet of the soldiers, in 1937 the military started experimenting with providing  frozen orange juice,  ice cream,  and vegetables.   But it wasn't until after World War II  that freezing became more widespread.  A reliable source to maintain the correct freezing temperature  was needed.   We had an ice box in our home,  but my aunt Elia  had a refrigerator.  

I think it was an Army incident  that may have given uncle Oscar the idea of freezing the tamales. Oscar said the first base that he was assigned to was also his first Thanksgiving  away from home.  The base apparently was in the process of being staffed.  There were no assigned cooks, but they had just received a train load of frozen turkeys  and no one knew what to do.  Oscar volunteered.  He supervised  the stuffing  and preparation of all those turkeys.  I asked him if he'd ever done before. He said, "No, but I had watched my sisters many times."   That was my uncle Oscar,  third from the bottom of the nine children of 12 who made it to adulthood.  

With the demand increasing for the Chapa tamales, Uncle Oscar, applied his natural intelligence and mechanical  ability and built a tamale making machine. I remember when I saw it in action for the the first time.   I was amazed.  Uncle Oscar designed it and built it.  It worked great.    The tamale came out of double tube; the masa enclosed the meat on the inside.  The tamales were cut into the correct length as they came out on the conveyer belt. Our job was to wrapped each tamale individually in paper, not corn leaves. 

Unfortunately, Uncle Oscar did not patent his tamale making machine, before showing it to a friend, who unfortunately did. 

The next step, the Chapa siblings went into the restaurant business. Just as they had built the brick building for   setting up a tamale factory, they built a restaurant. The design,  the plans, and the final completion were all under the directions of my totally inexperienced uncles.  

They built the actual building,  a restaurant,  brick by brick, electricity,  plumbing, lighting, floors, windows, doors, in addition to planning for the needs of the kitchen, menu, and seating.  All aspects accomplished fulfilling and meeting all needed requirements for city, county, and state licensing.

The building built 70 years ago for the Mexico Café, is located on the south side of Stockton, off of Highway 5.  It has been occupied and continues to be used to this day for a variety of purposes.    

Even though The Mexico Café  was on the outskirts,  it became very popular.  For a short period, while mom was getting us settled into Manteca living, she was a waitress for Oscar. Greyhound bus service made it possible to travel at night between Stockton and Manteca.  Being right off a main highway, the bus would  pick her up at the café  and dropped her off a very short distance from the house.  A few years later, infrequently, when a busy night was anticipated, I would work a shift or two.   

During and after World War II, from 1942 to 1947, the Fair was suspended and the fairgrounds were occupied by the Army. The State Fair facilities were used as an unofficial "training academy".

The same year that the Mexico Cafe opened, 1947, plans were underway  to once again commence the State Fairs.   A member of the California State Fair Board happened  to eat at the Mexico Café and was quite impressed by the quality of the food.  The State Fair Board member continued to frequent the Mexico Café and encouraged Oscar to participate as concessionaire.   The Chapa partners decided to participate. 

The first year, the booths wooden, intended to be temporary.  The cooking equipment had to be brought in by each concessionaire.   Our booth was placed prominently close to the front main gate.  The menu was broad,  which through the years  was shortened,  to two main items,  tamales and soft tortilla tacos. Most customers were not used to soft tortilla tacos, but once they tasted them, many returned, many year after year.  

                                                                                                                                     Vintage 1947 Postcard
After five years of not holding a fair, the 1947 Fair was extremely well attendance, One of the memories that stands out was being left at the fair over-night. Thousands attended, locals and hundreds of out-of-towners.  The high attendance created a real need for sleeping accommodations. 

The family had not been able to get rooms at the same motel.   We were divided into two groups, two cars.   One evening as the adults were closing up the booth, my sister Tania (15),  cousin Val (11), and I had (13) decided to take a quick walk through the Carnival. When we returned to the booth, it was dark.  Everyone had left.  Naturally surprised and puzzled, we did not know what to do.  We had no way of communicating with the family.  We did not know the names of the  motels.   We decided the best thing was to sleep inside of the booth.  As we were figuring out how to get into the booth, a night guard came by and asked us what we were doing, and why we were there.   We explained the situation. He listened carefully and told us not to worry, he would watch over us.  He helped unlock the gate to the enclosure.

Fortunately it was a hot Sacramento night, and the bags of beans were comfortable to sleep on.  AND bless his heart, I'm sure it was his duty  to circle the area,  but he watched over us all night,  just as he said.   Every time I woke up,  I could see him standing beneath the same street lamp.  I realize now, it was a dangerous situation.   The guard could have fulfilled  his duties  and called the police, or the fair administrators.  What a series of problems, it could have created.  Perhaps it would have ended my uncle Oscar's career as a concessionaire.  Perhaps we would've spent the night in a County facility.  

When the two groups of the family showed up the next morning, neither realized that we had slept overnight  there, each thinking that we had gone with the other group, and returned that morning with them.  It took a little bit of explaining. 

In 1948, the state purchased approximately 900 acres of undeveloped land along the American River north of downtown Sacramento. Funds were not allocated to begin construction on this land until 1963, and the State Fair continued at the Stockton Boulevard grounds until 1967. 

The following, 1948, the California State Fair was held, and the Chapa family was there again, aunts uncles,  and primos.  My mom, sister, and I were there, everyone working together  to make sure it was a successful booth, and the Chapas would be invited back.  

Obviously, the numbers spoke for themselves, the booth because of its popularity was placed directly in front of the race track stadium, where the evening entertainment was also held.  The proximity of the booth location, created what prima Val remembers:  

"After the horse races would end and thousands poured out of the stands. We were fortunate to have a concession right across the way. We would get crowds five deep clamoring for tacos. In the kitchen, one person would be holding a clutch of tortillas with tongs and dipping them into hot, bubbling oil for about five seconds then the next person would lay a strip of filling and lettuce on the burning hot tortilla and with her bare hands roll it into a taco, transferring it onto a stack of parchment sheets to be wrapped by the next person. I was the wrapper, and even protected by the parchment, the heat of the tortillas was. Ur I gotta my hands. I can’t imagine how hot it was for the person actually rolling the tortillas. I had long finger nails and by the end of the Fair the thumb nail of my right hand had been worn away by the constant rubbing of the parchment paper."  

I usually worked the front, interacting with the customers, seldom in the kitchen. But  did have one painful incident with hot water, not hot oil.  It also happened because of the high volume of customers.  We sold coffee in the booth. Preparing a good, rich cup of coffee, required pouring boiling hot water over the coffee grinds several times.  The spigot for the hot water was in the front of the coffee maker.    

I had filled the colander with the hot water and had it resting on the coffee machines' rack.   We were having a rush, and one of the customers, who had already paid for his order, and was in a hurry to get back to the racing track, asked me to please hand him his order, which had just been placed in the serving window.   

I was balancing  the cauldron of  the hot water with one hand and my hip.   When I reached with my other hand towards the window, I tipped the cauldron and the hot boiling water poured over my right hip and leg.  The customers gasped. I was stunned.  I don't remember who was working in front with me, butTia Estella quickly pulled me into the back.  She immediately started rubbing ice over the burned areas.    While she did,  she kept looking directly into my eyes, holding my gaze,  repeating over and over.  "It is going to be okay.  It is going to be okay. It is going to be okay."  When I seemed to be over the shock, Oscar sent me to the Fair doctor.  

The doctor looked at my hips and legs and said simply, it was third-degree burns and to expect blisters all over the area, and some scarring.  The doctor gave me some salve, but  I don't remember receiving anything else from him. 

It was a very painful night, but I finally fell asleep and the next morning I was expecting the worse, but the only place, only place  where there was a blister,  was a small blister behind my knee.  My hip and leg looked absolutely normal.  It was a joyful surprise to everyone.   

That incidence taught me the tremendous power of suggestion,  the power of the mind, and the power of the spoken word.    I have never forgotten.  My Tia used the power of the spoken word, and the results were a miraculous overnight healing, with no scarring.   

For ten years, I worked the fairs, from the time I was 13 until I was married.  I really enjoyed being around the family, all hard working, but fun loving. 

Uncle Oscar enjoyed having a crew of family members.  I remember a problem at the Stockton fair one year.  Two very official-looking men, state inspectors came over to the booth and were questioning him about me.   They were threatening to to fine Uncle Oscar, saying I was too young to be working in the booth.   I had been observed working the long hours and times, which were illegal at my age.  It was only legal  if you were a member of the  family. 

The inspectors would not believe I was his niece. They would not believe me, and they would not believe uncle Oscar.  They were saying that we were both lying.  Uncle Oscar was one of the most honest man I have ever known.   Just at the point that Uncle Oscar might have  gotten upset with the inspectors,  I turned my head to hand a taco to a customer.   Suddenly, one of the inspectors, shouted loudly to his partner.

"Stop it." I froze, I did not know what was coming next.  "Look at her profile,"  he said."  "It's the same profile as his. Of course they are related. "   They quickly gathered their clipboards, papers, apologized and left.  My Chapa profile had saved the day. 

I was glad they left.  While in the service, Uncle Oscar was the boxer  representing his unit. I felt they were pushing their luck, calling him a liar.   Uncle Oscar's father, my grandfather,  held  to the Spanish code: "Para un hombre, la palabra es todo."  Essentially, for a man, his word is sufficient."

Each Fair had its own atmosphere,  its own style,  Sacramento,  Stockton, Fresno,  
San Diego, San Jose,  Napa, Pleasanton, Lodi, Calaveras, Santa Rosa, and others that I can't remember.   All the Fairs had animals competing  with each other,  on their appearance or skills. There was bronco busting, horse races, roping, a carnival, displays of flowers and plants, minerals, handicrafts, arts, fine art, carpentry photos, and artisans  demonstrating their skills.  I never tired of viewing the accomplishments of others.  And the food, a crazy abundance of food,  different and exaggerated, were fun to eat and look forward to eating, each season.  Plus the salesmen and women with new . . . new and better everything.  mixers, blenders, pots, pans, heating and massaging, slippers, knives, pillows, etc. etc .   I loved looking at their products.   

The State Fair was special in the county displays.  It gave state fair visitors a glimpse of their unique landscape, country economy and the people.   

Most fairs had music bands and major head-line entertainers. Our booth at this time in Sacramento had  being moved  to a prime booth position.  We were directly opposite the main gates to the Race Track, which also served as the stage and outdoor auditorium.  In between races  and after any shows, we were really busy.  

I heard the famed Jeanette McDonald sing at the Sacramento State Fair.  She and Eddie Nelson provided the romance in a series of twenty-two Hollywood movies. I was so excited to know that she was going to be performing. I loved her voice and womanly, gentle speech.  Uncle Oscar just asked me to rush out ahead of the crowd, to be ready for the crowd.    Miss McDonald sang my my most favorite song of her repertory,  the "Indian Love Call," and I almost floated out to the stand. 

Every evening ended with spectacular fireworks displays. While serving our customers, we could stand facing the fire works, always beautiful and calming after the excitement of the day.   The California fairs opened many windows, many doors, much pleasure,  much joy. . . 

I've asked my Primos  to share some of their Fair memories, sharing a few below and more to come in the December issue.

The oldest of the primas Yolanda Valdez Auclair  (now 88 years old)  explained, "Do you know why I only worked one day, the first day of the 1947 Sacramento Fair?  

You remember, we sold beer in the booth, Tania, me, you and Val, we were all underage.  Oscar warned us kids not to touch or handle the beer.  Unfortunately, in the rush of the crowd, Mom handed me a cold beer out of the ice container, and told me to hand it to a customer, who had already paid and was waiting. As I did, Aunt Estella, turned and saw me.  She screamed . . no and on the spot, she immediately fired me. I was sent me home by bus, crying most of the way.   In the years that followed, I really felt bad in missing out, because I know everyone always had a good time, and it really wasn't my fault. I was just following Mom's orders."    

[Mimi ~  I wonder if Tia Estella was making an example of Lonnie, because she was the oldest. In the Chapa family, if no adults were around, the oldest of the primos in any gathering was responsible for the behavior of the younger cousins.  It is too bad that Lonnie was not part of the regular crew, she was beautiful and would have attracted even more people to our booth. 

Lonnie's four children eventually all worked in the Taco stand.   Her two sons, Michael and Steve recalled an incident.  One year there was an overlap of two fairs, one fair was closing while another one was opening the next day.  Oscar wanted to participate in both.  He decided to have the boys close down the booth while he prepared to open the fair that was opening its new season.  Michael and Steve, both in their late teens were directed at the close of the day to wash and pack up all the equipment and supplies, but not to dismantle the booth.  Oscar said, he would return and they would do it together. Unfortunately, the boys being confident teenagers decided they could do it themselves and surprise Uncle Oscar. They had seen the portable booth, go up and down a few seasons, and were sure they could manage it. However, the surprise was to them, because instead of neatly coming apart, the booth collapsed.  

When Oscar returned to drive the booth to the other fair location, he was barely able to restrain himselfors, but true to form, the worst reprimand he could get out, was to say to his two nephews . . .  "Calavasas".  Uncle Oscar also knew the power of the spoken word. 

They had not realized, there was a sequence, like a Tinker-toy to be followed, in both assembling and dismounting. 
  
However "Calavasas" they were not.  Michael the older of the two (who should have been held responsible) became an attorney advocate for farm workers, went by his mother's maiden name of Valdez, and served as a Judge in Salinas, California. 

And about Steve . .  I wonder if this experience of almost destroying Oscar's booth provoked an interest in engineering.   Steve, attended U.C. Davis, graduated in 1976 as civil engineer and for most of his career worked for the State of California. Currently Steve has his own consulting firm, Au Clair Consulting, Inc. in Folsom, California.

Like my Aunt Alice said about the influence of the California Fairs on the Chapa Clan, "We all grew up."