so there are reasons why someone want to make sure that you are legal?
apparently so. Sating your xenophobia isn't one of them.
i wouldnt sell food or a car to a illegal alien, that's aiding and abetting, if they are hungry the immigration department will see that they get fed on their way to deportation.
I read this heartwarming story the other day. At any point in this story, it could have turned out badly for these two guys who wanted nothing more than a chance at the American dream. But it was a story about bridging differences and overcoming greed and self-interest both from the baker and after he died, from his family.
And it's pretty much reflective of L.A. society as a whole. I myself used to wait in a long long line for Chinese food prepared by Mexican cooks that has a taste so delicious, so unique that well, I would wait in a long long line for despite the fact that there were two other Chinese eateries less than a block away with NO line.
Francisco Rosales, left, and Jose Gonzales, co-owners of A. Partamian Bakery hold up a customer favorite, lahmajunes, that they make from scratch.
Two childhood friends from Zacatecas went to work for baker Leon Partamian in 1975. On his death they inherited his shop, which they now run.
By Bob Pool March 15, 2008
Their backgrounds are more burrito than boreg.
So how did a pair of childhood buddies from Zacatecas, Mexico, turn into two of Los Angeles' most popular Armenian bakers?
On West Adams Boulevard, Francisco Rosales and Jose Gonzales did it by adopting Leon Partamian's family recipes -- and then getting "adopted" by Partamian themselves.
The crusty owner of the 60-year-old A. Partamian Bakery in the Mid-City area liked the way they cooked his sarma and lahmajune. And he liked the two of them.
So when Partamian died 17 months ago, he gave his bakery business -- and the building that houses its vintage ovens and bread display cases -- to both of them.
Partamian's gift has brought a sigh of relief to longtime Armenian American customers who feared that the weathered storefront bakery would be shuttered and used for something else in a neighborhood that in recent decades has turned from white to black and now brown.
"This is the best lahmajune anywhere. It is the absolute best," said Gail Deovlet Chancellor, 62, a homemaker who lives in Huntington Beach and travels to the bakery to shop. "It took me an hour and 15 minutes to drive here. But it's worth it."
Rosales chats with customer Vicky McCool after carrying her groceries to a car driven by a friend. McCool has been coming to the store since it opened in 1948.
Like most of Leon Partamian's longtime customers, Chancellor knew of the shopkeeper's desire to eventually pass the bakery on to his two loyal bakers. He had never married and had no children.
"After we'd been working with him 20 or 25 years he was telling customers that he was going to leave the store to his 'boys' when he was gone," Rosales said.
Partamian had quickly taken his two young bakers under his wing.
He helped them obtain green cards and with other family immigration issues. He loaned them money when his "boys" had an emergency.
But Partamian left no written will when in late 2006 he died unexpectedly at age 73 of a heart attack
. It took more than a year for his heirs to wade through probate paperwork so they could sign over the business and its building to Rosales and Gonzales, both 56.
Rosales immigrated to the U.S. in 1969 and Gonzales in 1971. They were dishwashers in a Bob's Big Boy restaurant in 1975 when they were introduced to Partamian. He offered them both jobs.
It took about six months for the pair to learn how to craft the delicacies that Partamian was famous for: the boreg, paklava, sarma and the lahmajune -- the eight-inch circles of dough topped with ground lamb, tomatoes and bell peppers and cooked in a 450-degree oven.
"It was not hard for us. We learned very fast. The recipes are a little complicated. Leon showed us how much pepper and garlic and other spices to use," Rosales remembers. "We use black pepper and garlic in Mexico, but not black nigella and mahlab. I never saw that in Mexico.
"I grew up with tamales and tacos. But when I tried Armenian food I liked it. And Leon was such a nice man."
It didn't take long after starting with Partamian for Gonzales and Rosales to learn that the A. Partamian Bakery was best known for its lahmajune, with customers coming from across the Los Angeles basin and San Fernando Valley for the little lamb pies some call Armenian pizzas.
They soon found themselves baking around 500 of them a day. At Christmas and on other holidays, when lahmajune is reheated, sliced into wedges and served as party appetizers, that number soared to nearly 1,000, according to Gonzales.
Soon, Partamian was referring to his two young bakers as "my boys" and gave some of their family members jobs in the bakery.
Rosales' son, Raul, now an LAX garage attendant, worked there as a teenager. "Our kids called Leon 'Grandpa,' " said his wife, Mirna Vargas, of daughters Crystal, 9, and Viviane, 5.
Vargas occasionally helped at the bakery before giving birth nine months ago to son Robert Rosales.
Audrey Hovsepian of Ladera Heights, enjoys a lahmajune at the bakery. At right is her son Matt Miles. She knew members of the Partamian family for decades, and says of owner Leon Partamian: “We all knew his plan was to leave the bakery to his ‘boys.’ ”
The two Mexican bakers never learned to speak Armenian. But that was no problem, since Armenian shoppers all spoke English. Gonzales and Rosales quickly learned the names of the Armenian baked goods that each day filled Partamian's shelves. The first name they learned was lahmajune.
The little pizzas were always the little shop's big draw.
"I've been coming here since I was a little girl, probably about 7, for my lahmajune," said Myrna Suttice, 47, a caterer who lives in the Fairfax District.
She is not of Armenian descent, but the lamb pies were popular snacks for youngsters growing up in the Mid-City neighborhood, Suttice said. Partamian knew all the children by name and asked to see their report cards. Good grades earned them free bakery treats.
"I was so glad when Leon handed this place down and it didn't get closed," Suttice said.
So was Audrey Hovsepian. The Ladera Heights septuagenarian had known members of the Partamian family for decades.
"Mr. Partamian was a very kind man. He'd bring his mother to St. James Armenian Apostolic Church in a wheelchair when she got older. We all knew his plan was to leave the bakery to his 'boys.' We just didn't know he hadn't written it down."
Partamian's niece, Norma Kurkjian, said there was never any doubt the family would honor his wishes.
He had made it clear he wanted Rosales and Gonzales to continue, she said.
Kurkjian, a retired teacher who lives in Northridge, said some advised the family to sell the business. The property at 5410 W. Adams Blvd. was appraised for about $500,000, she said.
"But he wanted the bakery to go to the 'boys' because they were loyal to him for 35 years and they bake authentically. He wanted them to have financial security."
Still, though, "it's hysterical to go in and see these two Mexican men making grape leaf and sou boreg. It's such a hoot."
Rosales and Gonzales live with their families several blocks from the bakery. Since Partamian's death, they have worked 12-hour days, six days a week, without a vacation.
Partamian's death was a shock, according to the pair. "He left the store on Saturday and never came back on Monday," said Rosales.
Partamian's legacy is a good one, agreed Chancellor, whose parents held her by the hand the first time she stepped inside the tiny shop and peered into the display case at the stacks of freshly baked lahmajune.
Her parents, Dewey and Gladys Deovlet, were Armenian immigrants who dropped the "ian" from Deovletian so they could more easily find jobs. They were customers when Abraham Partamian opened the bakery in 1948.
Abraham Partamian's sons, Charles and Leon, worked there, helping him and their mother, Victoria, bake peda bread and meat boreg, a turnover filled with ground lamb, and lahmajune.
When his parents died, Leon Partamian took over the bakery.
"Mr. Partamian was always 'Mr.' Partamian. That was the way we addressed him. We never used first names," Chancellor said.
She looked at photos of Partamian and mementos of his life that Gonzales and Rosales display above the shop's front counter.
"Mr. Partamian was much loved," she said.
And on West Adams Boulevard, two loyal employees know that better than anyone.
Here's a good test of the chestnut that Mexican immigrants are going to turn out just like the old Jewish immigrants: Long ago, East LA had a Jewish immigrant community, which arrived about the same time as its Mexican immigrants. According to PBS, in East LA after WWI:
[b]"In many instances, Jews and Mexicans went to school together, played sports together, traded with each other, and particularly among the left wing thinkers, met and organized together."
For some reason, though, eighty years later, the descendents of East LA's Jewish immigrants are living in Beverly Hills and Malibu, while the descendents of East LA's Mexican immigrants are in Van Nuys or still stuck in East LA.
In summary, the first rule of rationality when you find you are digging a hole for yourself is … stop digging.
Once known for its Quaker past and links to Richard Nixon, Whittier is coming to symbolize a new set of aspirations.
By Hector Becerra, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer March 22, 2008
Rebecca Zapanta opens the door to the Mediterranean mansion high on a hill in Whittier. To the left, just past a staircase, a terra cotta font glistens with blessed water from the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City.
"This is the Purple Room," the 54-year-old says, waving toward an eggplant-colored room featuring paintings by Mexican masters -- Siqueiros, Orozco, Tamayo and Diego Rivera -- all purchased by Zapanta and her husband, Richard, an orthopedic surgeon.
Rebecca Zapanta is shown in front of her Mediterranean mansion that sits on a hill in Whittier. Zapanta and her husband are among a wave of professionals who are reshaping the city into a destination spot for upper middle class and upper class Latino life in Southern California.
Decades before the couple bought the 12,500-square-foot home, back when it was still the old Reilly estate, Whittier's most famous resident, Richard Nixon, attended social events in some of these rooms. When it was built in 1927, the mansion represented everything Whittier aspired to. John B. Reilly was a powerful local Republican, an oilman who years later helped Nixon make his first run for political office. When he became president, Nixon provided one of Reilly's daughters with a Cabinet position.
Now the Reilly estate has become the Zapanta estate, and it stands as a monument to a new set of aspirations.
The Zapantas are fourth-generation Mexican Americans from East Los Angeles, part of a wave of doctors and lawyers, small-business owners and school administrators who are remaking Whittier into a center of upper-middle- class and upper-class Latino life in Southern California.
Like Reilly years before, the Zapantas host political events at the spacious mansion. But their preferred candidates are Latino Democrats. They have held two fundraisers for Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and one for former presidential candidate Bill Richardson, governor of New Mexico. Once a year, they offer tours of their vast collection of Mexican art.
The last U.S. census counted Whittier's population at 83,838. Latinos constituted 23% of Whittier residents in 1980; they were 56% as of 2000 and that number is presumed to be more than 60% by now.
The city's neighborhoods reflect a range of economic levels, with working-class and middle-class residents tending to live in the flatlands and the affluent higher in the hills.
And parts of Whittier have their social problems, including gangs and homelessness. But unlike nearby Huntington Park, Maywood and South Gate, which became much poorer as illegal immigrants surged in, Whittier "is where the heart of the Latino bourgeoisie wants to be," said Daniel Duran, an associate professor of business at Whittier College.
The college, where Nixon got his bachelor's degree, now has a student body that is nearly one-third Latino, the highest proportion of Latino students at any private liberal arts college in the United States.
On a recent day, Rebecca Zapanta drove her silver Mercedes along Whittier's leafy streets, pointing out the signs of a changing town.
"The people who live in this house are Hispanics. . . . These are white. . . . These are old Quakers. . . . These are Mexicans here. . . ."
Pretty homes.
A smile broke under her prescription Versace shades.
"What did you expect?" she said. "Did you think it was going to be run-down because Mexicans moved here?"
Leo Anguiano, left, shares a laugh with regular customer Simon Parra at his Whittier Farms Produce and Meat Market. As a boy, Anguiano sold fruit on the street and now has his own chain of stores. He says when he and his wife moved into Whittier's gated Friendly Hills Estates 12 years ago, they were only the second Latino family at the time.
Whittier, founded by Quakers in 1887, was a quiet town in its early years. There were no liquor stores, let alone bars, said Hubert Perry, 94, a lifelong Whittier resident and Quaker whose father helped Nixon get elected to Congress.
"It was years before I knew what a bar was," the former banker said.
Perry has seen three major demographic changes sweep over his city. The first occurred after oil was discovered in the Whittier hills and nearby Santa Fe Springs in the early 1900s.
"We had some interesting people move into Whittier in those days," Perry said, noting that the oilmen tended to be brash and aggressive. "There was quite an influx of the Rockefellers in here for a while. I bought Nelson Rockefeller's car."
Reilly, an oil company machinist, was not welcomed when he first tried to move into Whittier in 1921. Two separate landlords told him, "We're not going to have your kind of people in town!" Reilly recalled in a 1972 interview with the Whittier Daily News. "They were trying to control the influx into their little Quaker town."
Two years later, he invented a drill pipe cutter that was soon in great demand in the industry, giving him the money to build his mansion. Other sprawling homes sprouted in the hills as well, many built by those in the oil industry.
The town remained white. In the late 1920s and early '30s, when Perry and his friend Richard Nixon went to Whittier High School, "there was only one Mexican family in the school," Perry said.
Leo Anguiano is shown in the 1970s, at top left, selling fruit with his brother and father in Boyle Heights. “It reminds me of where I came from,” he says of the photo. “And sometimes I like to look at it because it makes me laugh.”
But, as he notes, it's a straight shot of about 11 miles from Boyle Heights to Whittier.
"They moved east from Boyle Heights, then from Boyle Heights to Montebello, then from Montebello to Pico Rivera," Perry said. "Then people with incomes, relatively speaking, moved to Whittier . They came up Whittier Boulevard. It was kind of an easy trip."
Leo Anguiano, a 47-year-old grocery store owner, moved from El Sereno to Whittier in 1988.
On a recent Wednesday afternoon, he stepped into the clubhouse of the Friendly Hills Country Club. But not before removing his baseball cap.
"You have to dress appropriately, not with your shirt hanging out. You can't wear jeans," Anguiano said.
Young Latino waiters took his order. Anguiano chatted warmly with them. "You're not supposed to socialize with them," he said later. "They're there to cater to you."
"I can't help it," he added. "I can relate to them, just working hard to pay your monthly bills."
As a boy, Anguiano sold fruit on the streets of Boyle Heights. Then he opened a produce stand in an East L.A. grocery store.
He eventually opened his own chain of stores, the Whittier Farms Ranch Market, first in northeast Los Angeles and later in Monterey Park and Whittier.
"When I was growing up, they called Monterey Park the Beverly Hills of East L.A.," Anguiano, who was nicknamed "King of Carne Asada" by Eastside customers, said with a chuckle. "Then it kept going more over here."
The first Whittier home he and his wife bought was in the flatlands and cost $157,000. As business got better, they moved higher up into the hills. Finally, 12 years ago, they moved into the gated Friendly Hills Estates. They were only the second Latino family beyond the gates at the time.
"Whittier's like Santa Barbara in a way. It's so peaceful and old," he said. "When we bought the house, my wife and I would just lie in bed and say, 'I can't believe it!' "
Two years ago, he joined the country club and became a member of its social committee.
"Lots of events go down there. Cooking classes, dance classes. I learned salsa," he said. "Tuesday nights we have 'Dancing Like the Stars.' They did that because of the TV show."
He used to visit the club as a guest years ago. Back then there weren't a lot of faces like his, he said. These days, he said, it's not unusual for him to be sitting in the clubhouse with Latino doctors, lawyers and business owners.
Anguiano's locker is not too far from the one East L.A. boxer Oscar De La Hoya had when he was a member, having made headlines by buying a home in Whittier in the mid-1990s.
When Anguiano first hit the links, he had a lot to learn.
"There's 10 things you have to know before you even swing at the ball," he said recently as he lined up a shot on the sixth tee. "Five years ago, I didn't even know what golf was!"
At work, he keeps a framed picture of himself as a 14-year-old, ankle deep in tangerines on the back of a beat-up flatbed truck in Boyle Heights. With him are his father, a Mexican immigrant, and his brother.
"It reminds me of where I came from," he said. "And sometimes I like to look at it because it makes me laugh."
If Whittier's population has changed, its political hierarchy remains largely entrenched. Political power still rests among a largely white establishment -- mostly Republican with an all-white City Council.
"We're one-sided in leadership," said Ruth B. Shannon, who with her husband, Ed, is one of Whittier's biggest philanthropists. "We're not trying to shut anybody out. We should have a Latino council member. I think it just takes time for someone to step forward and do something."
In 1978, a popular Whittier High School teacher and football coach, Victor Lopez, was elected to the City Council, getting the most votes of any candidate. Lopez, who served until 1990, was the first Whittier councilman with a Spanish surname.
He and his wife were very plugged in to the community, with the teacher even doing construction work during the summer, such as adding rooms to houses in Whittier -- including work on Perry's home.
"His family was quite prominent in town," Perry said. "He was a high-class individual."
But it wasn't necessarily a sign of things to come.
A few years ago, Alex Moisa, 43, a Latino lawyer who moved to Whittier from Montebello, ran for City Council. He said that despite living in Whittier for 12 years, he still felt like an outsider.
"I was almost considered a carpetbagger," he said. "Nobody cared about the fact I was a Berkeley-educated lawyer. It's still very parochial."
If that's a commonly shared sentiment, it's not one commonly aired. Many Latinos agree their adopted city is a politically insular place, but one that tends to reward long ties to the town.
When the Zapantas moved into the old Reilly estate, Ruth Shannon was quick to knock on their door. She bonded with Rebecca -- recognizing quickly that the tall, fit woman was a kindred spirit in her willingness to raise money for charitable causes.
At Shannon's request, the Zapantas let the public tour their home as a fundraiser for the local historical museum.
The Zapantas introduced Shannon, whose name is on Whittier College's performing arts center, and her husband to Mexican artists like Raul Anguiano.
The Shannons in turn saw the Zapantas as the kind of Latino residents the city needed in positions of influence.
"Rebecca's a big promoter, getting people involved in things," Shannon said. "We were so hoping to get them on some boards."
The Shannons asked them to join the Whittier College Board of Trustees. The Zapantas declined. They would get involved in some Whittier events -- but, as the Shannons would find out, the Zapantas represented a new kind of Whittier elite.
Their first commitment was to causes affecting the Mexican American community -- and to another school, USC. Richard and his late brother Edward, a neurosurgeon, were among the founders of USC's Mexican American Alumni Assn. Richard's father was a mechanic; his mother went back to college when she was middle-aged and eventually graduated from Pepperdine University. Rebecca also grew up working-class in East L.A. and recalled playing with chickens in the backyard.
They moved from East L.A. to Hacienda Heights, but 16 years ago they decided they wanted a bigger house. They first thought about Pasadena. A friend who was a Realtor told them he had found a place in Whittier. The Zapantas knew little about the town, but seeing the mansion on the hill convinced them, even if Rebecca Zapanta said the sheer size of the home was intimidating.
The mansion was beautifully imposing. They moved in with their five children, Richard's elderly father and two housekeepers.
In the years since, Rebecca has taken up a new cause: electing a Latino to the council. She has supported Latino candidates before but said they always lose.
Recently, she stopped at the Uptown boutique of a friend, Suzie Cruz. Talk turned to politics. "We need that voice. I just think we haven't done that yet," Cruz said.
"Do you think they're trying keep us out, Suzie?" Zapanta asked in an incredulous tone.
That wasn't it, Cruz said. On election day, just take a look at who votes and who volunteers to work the polls, she said. Latinos in Whittier need to get involved and vote.
A few days later, a Mexican American Realtor told Zapanta she was running for City Council.
The news gave a jolt of energy to Zapanta's quest and got her thinking about ways she could help, now and in the future; maybe putting together a list of friends in Whittier, sending out a mailing and having a fundraiser.
And for that, Rebecca Zapanta could think of no better setting than her old mansion.
That's just Whittier mind you. Montebello and Downey, once the lily white bastion of The Carpenters and the seting of the mall from "The Wonder Years" show also come to mind, and that's just in my immediate area. But WB would have you believe all Latino's are living in dilapidated squalor.
Yes yes, I know....
Thay're 'taking over' Richard Nixon's hometown!!!!!! Something must be done!!!!
That's just Whittier mind you. Montebello and Downey, once the lily white bastion of The Carpenters and the seting of the mall from "The Wonder Years" show also come to mind, and that's just in my immediate area. But WB would have you believe all Latino's are living in dilapidated squalor.
Here's a good test of the chestnut that Mexican immigrants are going to turn out just like the old Jewish immigrants: Long ago, East LA had a Jewish immigrant community, which arrived about the same time as its Mexican immigrants. According to PBS, in East LA after WWI:
[b]"In many instances, Jews and Mexicans went to school together, played sports together, traded with each other, and particularly among the left wing thinkers, met and organized together."
For some reason, though, eighty years later, the descendents of East LA's Jewish immigrants are living in Beverly Hills and Malibu, while the descendents of East LA's Mexican immigrants are in Van Nuys or still stuck in East LA.
In summary, the first rule of rationality when you find you are digging a hole for yourself is … stop digging.
Once known for its Quaker past and links to Richard Nixon, Whittier is coming to symbolize a new set of aspirations.
By Hector Becerra, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer March 22, 2008
Rebecca Zapanta opens the door to the Mediterranean mansion high on a hill in Whittier. To the left, just past a staircase, a terra cotta font glistens with blessed water from the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City.
"This is the Purple Room," the 54-year-old says, waving toward an eggplant-colored room featuring paintings by Mexican masters -- Siqueiros, Orozco, Tamayo and Diego Rivera -- all purchased by Zapanta and her husband, Richard, an orthopedic surgeon.
Rebecca Zapanta is shown in front of her Mediterranean mansion that sits on a hill in Whittier. Zapanta and her husband are among a wave of professionals who are reshaping the city into a destination spot for upper middle class and upper class Latino life in Southern California.
Decades before the couple bought the 12,500-square-foot home, back when it was still the old Reilly estate, Whittier's most famous resident, Richard Nixon, attended social events in some of these rooms. When it was built in 1927, the mansion represented everything Whittier aspired to. John B. Reilly was a powerful local Republican, an oilman who years later helped Nixon make his first run for political office. When he became president, Nixon provided one of Reilly's daughters with a Cabinet position.
Now the Reilly estate has become the Zapanta estate, and it stands as a monument to a new set of aspirations.
The Zapantas are fourth-generation Mexican Americans from East Los Angeles, part of a wave of doctors and lawyers, small-business owners and school administrators who are remaking Whittier into a center of upper-middle- class and upper-class Latino life in Southern California.
Like Reilly years before, the Zapantas host political events at the spacious mansion. But their preferred candidates are Latino Democrats. They have held two fundraisers for Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and one for former presidential candidate Bill Richardson, governor of New Mexico. Once a year, they offer tours of their vast collection of Mexican art.
The last U.S. census counted Whittier's population at 83,838. Latinos constituted 23% of Whittier residents in 1980; they were 56% as of 2000 and that number is presumed to be more than 60% by now.
The city's neighborhoods reflect a range of economic levels, with working-class and middle-class residents tending to live in the flatlands and the affluent higher in the hills.
And parts of Whittier have their social problems, including gangs and homelessness. But unlike nearby Huntington Park, Maywood and South Gate, which became much poorer as illegal immigrants surged in, Whittier "is where the heart of the Latino bourgeoisie wants to be," said Daniel Duran, an associate professor of business at Whittier College.
The college, where Nixon got his bachelor's degree, now has a student body that is nearly one-third Latino, the highest proportion of Latino students at any private liberal arts college in the United States.
On a recent day, Rebecca Zapanta drove her silver Mercedes along Whittier's leafy streets, pointing out the signs of a changing town.
"The people who live in this house are Hispanics. . . . These are white. . . . These are old Quakers. . . . These are Mexicans here. . . ."
Pretty homes.
A smile broke under her prescription Versace shades.
"What did you expect?" she said. "Did you think it was going to be run-down because Mexicans moved here?"
Leo Anguiano, left, shares a laugh with regular customer Simon Parra at his Whittier Farms Produce and Meat Market. As a boy, Anguiano sold fruit on the street and now has his own chain of stores. He says when he and his wife moved into Whittier's gated Friendly Hills Estates 12 years ago, they were only the second Latino family at the time.
Whittier, founded by Quakers in 1887, was a quiet town in its early years. There were no liquor stores, let alone bars, said Hubert Perry, 94, a lifelong Whittier resident and Quaker whose father helped Nixon get elected to Congress.
"It was years before I knew what a bar was," the former banker said.
Perry has seen three major demographic changes sweep over his city. The first occurred after oil was discovered in the Whittier hills and nearby Santa Fe Springs in the early 1900s.
"We had some interesting people move into Whittier in those days," Perry said, noting that the oilmen tended to be brash and aggressive. "There was quite an influx of the Rockefellers in here for a while. I bought Nelson Rockefeller's car."
Reilly, an oil company machinist, was not welcomed when he first tried to move into Whittier in 1921. Two separate landlords told him, "We're not going to have your kind of people in town!" Reilly recalled in a 1972 interview with the Whittier Daily News. "They were trying to control the influx into their little Quaker town."
Two years later, he invented a drill pipe cutter that was soon in great demand in the industry, giving him the money to build his mansion. Other sprawling homes sprouted in the hills as well, many built by those in the oil industry.
The town remained white. In the late 1920s and early '30s, when Perry and his friend Richard Nixon went to Whittier High School, "there was only one Mexican family in the school," Perry said.
Leo Anguiano is shown in the 1970s, at top left, selling fruit with his brother and father in Boyle Heights. “It reminds me of where I came from,” he says of the photo. “And sometimes I like to look at it because it makes me laugh.”
But, as he notes, it's a straight shot of about 11 miles from Boyle Heights to Whittier.
"They moved east from Boyle Heights, then from Boyle Heights to Montebello, then from Montebello to Pico Rivera," Perry said. "Then people with incomes, relatively speaking, moved to Whittier . They came up Whittier Boulevard. It was kind of an easy trip."
Leo Anguiano, a 47-year-old grocery store owner, moved from El Sereno to Whittier in 1988.
On a recent Wednesday afternoon, he stepped into the clubhouse of the Friendly Hills Country Club. But not before removing his baseball cap.
"You have to dress appropriately, not with your shirt hanging out. You can't wear jeans," Anguiano said.
Young Latino waiters took his order. Anguiano chatted warmly with them. "You're not supposed to socialize with them," he said later. "They're there to cater to you."
"I can't help it," he added. "I can relate to them, just working hard to pay your monthly bills."
As a boy, Anguiano sold fruit on the streets of Boyle Heights. Then he opened a produce stand in an East L.A. grocery store.
He eventually opened his own chain of stores, the Whittier Farms Ranch Market, first in northeast Los Angeles and later in Monterey Park and Whittier.
"When I was growing up, they called Monterey Park the Beverly Hills of East L.A.," Anguiano, who was nicknamed "King of Carne Asada" by Eastside customers, said with a chuckle. "Then it kept going more over here."
The first Whittier home he and his wife bought was in the flatlands and cost $157,000. As business got better, they moved higher up into the hills. Finally, 12 years ago, they moved into the gated Friendly Hills Estates. They were only the second Latino family beyond the gates at the time.
"Whittier's like Santa Barbara in a way. It's so peaceful and old," he said. "When we bought the house, my wife and I would just lie in bed and say, 'I can't believe it!' "
Two years ago, he joined the country club and became a member of its social committee.
"Lots of events go down there. Cooking classes, dance classes. I learned salsa," he said. "Tuesday nights we have 'Dancing Like the Stars.' They did that because of the TV show."
He used to visit the club as a guest years ago. Back then there weren't a lot of faces like his, he said. These days, he said, it's not unusual for him to be sitting in the clubhouse with Latino doctors, lawyers and business owners.
Anguiano's locker is not too far from the one East L.A. boxer Oscar De La Hoya had when he was a member, having made headlines by buying a home in Whittier in the mid-1990s.
When Anguiano first hit the links, he had a lot to learn.
"There's 10 things you have to know before you even swing at the ball," he said recently as he lined up a shot on the sixth tee. "Five years ago, I didn't even know what golf was!"
At work, he keeps a framed picture of himself as a 14-year-old, ankle deep in tangerines on the back of a beat-up flatbed truck in Boyle Heights. With him are his father, a Mexican immigrant, and his brother.
"It reminds me of where I came from," he said. "And sometimes I like to look at it because it makes me laugh."
If Whittier's population has changed, its political hierarchy remains largely entrenched. Political power still rests among a largely white establishment -- mostly Republican with an all-white City Council.
"We're one-sided in leadership," said Ruth B. Shannon, who with her husband, Ed, is one of Whittier's biggest philanthropists. "We're not trying to shut anybody out. We should have a Latino council member. I think it just takes time for someone to step forward and do something."
In 1978, a popular Whittier High School teacher and football coach, Victor Lopez, was elected to the City Council, getting the most votes of any candidate. Lopez, who served until 1990, was the first Whittier councilman with a Spanish surname.
He and his wife were very plugged in to the community, with the teacher even doing construction work during the summer, such as adding rooms to houses in Whittier -- including work on Perry's home.
"His family was quite prominent in town," Perry said. "He was a high-class individual."
But it wasn't necessarily a sign of things to come.
A few years ago, Alex Moisa, 43, a Latino lawyer who moved to Whittier from Montebello, ran for City Council. He said that despite living in Whittier for 12 years, he still felt like an outsider.
"I was almost considered a carpetbagger," he said. "Nobody cared about the fact I was a Berkeley-educated lawyer. It's still very parochial."
If that's a commonly shared sentiment, it's not one commonly aired. Many Latinos agree their adopted city is a politically insular place, but one that tends to reward long ties to the town.
When the Zapantas moved into the old Reilly estate, Ruth Shannon was quick to knock on their door. She bonded with Rebecca -- recognizing quickly that the tall, fit woman was a kindred spirit in her willingness to raise money for charitable causes.
At Shannon's request, the Zapantas let the public tour their home as a fundraiser for the local historical museum.
The Zapantas introduced Shannon, whose name is on Whittier College's performing arts center, and her husband to Mexican artists like Raul Anguiano.
The Shannons in turn saw the Zapantas as the kind of Latino residents the city needed in positions of influence.
"Rebecca's a big promoter, getting people involved in things," Shannon said. "We were so hoping to get them on some boards."
The Shannons asked them to join the Whittier College Board of Trustees. The Zapantas declined. They would get involved in some Whittier events -- but, as the Shannons would find out, the Zapantas represented a new kind of Whittier elite.
Their first commitment was to causes affecting the Mexican American community -- and to another school, USC. Richard and his late brother Edward, a neurosurgeon, were among the founders of USC's Mexican American Alumni Assn. Richard's father was a mechanic; his mother went back to college when she was middle-aged and eventually graduated from Pepperdine University. Rebecca also grew up working-class in East L.A. and recalled playing with chickens in the backyard.
They moved from East L.A. to Hacienda Heights, but 16 years ago they decided they wanted a bigger house. They first thought about Pasadena. A friend who was a Realtor told them he had found a place in Whittier. The Zapantas knew little about the town, but seeing the mansion on the hill convinced them, even if Rebecca Zapanta said the sheer size of the home was intimidating.
The mansion was beautifully imposing. They moved in with their five children, Richard's elderly father and two housekeepers.
In the years since, Rebecca has taken up a new cause: electing a Latino to the council. She has supported Latino candidates before but said they always lose.
Recently, she stopped at the Uptown boutique of a friend, Suzie Cruz. Talk turned to politics. "We need that voice. I just think we haven't done that yet," Cruz said.
"Do you think they're trying keep us out, Suzie?" Zapanta asked in an incredulous tone.
That wasn't it, Cruz said. On election day, just take a look at who votes and who volunteers to work the polls, she said. Latinos in Whittier need to get involved and vote.
A few days later, a Mexican American Realtor told Zapanta she was running for City Council.
The news gave a jolt of energy to Zapanta's quest and got her thinking about ways she could help, now and in the future; maybe putting together a list of friends in Whittier, sending out a mailing and having a fundraiser.
And for that, Rebecca Zapanta could think of no better setting than her old mansion.
That's just Whittier mind you. Montebello and Downey, once the lily white bastion of The Carpenters and the seting of the mall from "The Wonder Years" show also come to mind, and that's just in my immediate area. But WB would have you believe all Latino's are living in dilapidated squalor.
Yes yes, I know....
Thay're 'taking over' Richard Nixon's hometown!!!!!! Something must be done!!!!
So should I just read the highlighted parts or do I have to read it all?
November 6th, 2012: Americas new Independence Day.
Diversity Is Strength! It’s Also…Oh, Wait, Make That “Weakness” By Steve Sailer
[Discussing a book/immigration-study by former Clinton official David Putnam, bending its conclusions about immigration to acquiesce to politically correct false notions about immigration: ]
Putnam ignores the obvious difference between elite immigration by, say, Enrico Fermi and Alfred Hitchcock, compared to illegal immigration. In contrast, the almost thirty million residents of America of Mexican origin have contributed remarkably little creativity to American culture and science. For example, although Mexicans are by far the biggest immigrant group, they don't even rank among the top 20 immigrant groups in the U.S. in terms of patents awarded.
But Putnam's third section -- "Becoming Comfortable with Diversity" -- is even worse. It mostly repeats the Ellis Island clichés about how the immigration of a century ago all worked out fine and dandy, so what's to worry about the new immigration "in the medium to long run?"
But how can the “medium to long run” arrive to overcome the negative effects of diversity if the government continues to keep the pedal to the metal on letting in low human capital immigrants?
Not surprisingly, Putnam only vaguely mentions the immigration restriction acts of 1921 and 1924 that played such a huge role.
Furthermore, I am tired of intellectuals in Boston, New York, and Washington D.C acting as if Mexicans in America are such an utter novelty that nobody could possibly have any indication of how they will turn out, so who can say they won't progress just like Italians and Jews?
Well, anybody in the Southwest can.
In reality, we've had sizable Hispanic communities in the United States since the 1840s, such as in the Upper Rio Grande River valley of New Mexico. That state has long been the most Hispanic in the nation.
So how is New Mexico doing after seven generations of Hispanic assimilation? On Meet the Press recently, Tim Russert gave New Mexico governor and Presidential candidate Bill Richardson an unfairly hard time that said less about the politician than about his constituents:
"They rank states in a whole variety of categories from one being the best, 50th being the worst. This is New Mexico’s scorecard, and you are the governor. Percent of people living below the poverty line, you’re 48. Percent of children below, 48. Median family income, 47. People without health insurance, 49. Children without health insurance, 46. Teen high school dropouts, 47. Death rate due to firearms, 48. Violent crime rate, 46."
Richardson has his faults. But not turning New Mexicans into Minnesotans isn't one of them.
Similarly, East Los Angeles has been heavily Mexican since the Mexican Revolution. PBS reported:
"Its present day population also has been one of the most entrenched and stable communities of the greater Los Angeles area over the past 50 to 75 years. East Los Angeles is … the largest Hispanic community in the United States."
East LA is not Detroit -- which the forest is partly retaking -- but hardly is it New Jersey, which the Ellis Island immigrants have made into one of the most successful states in the country.
Here's a good test of the chestnut that Mexican immigrants are going to turn out just like the old Jewish immigrants: Long ago, East LA had a Jewish immigrant community, which arrived about the same time as its Mexican immigrants. According to PBS, in East LA after WWI:
"In many instances, Jews and Mexicans went to school together, played sports together, traded with each other, and particularly among the left wing thinkers, met and organized together."
For some reason, though, eighty years later, the descendents of East LA's Jewish immigrants are living in Beverly Hills and Malibu, while the descendents of East LA's Mexican immigrants are in Van Nuys or still stuck in East LA.
In summary, the first rule of rationality when you find you are digging a hole for yourself is … stop digging.
Unfortunately, when it comes to immigration and diversity, that's not a rule that many of our Establishment intellectuals such as Putnam have figured out. Or care to.
Steve Sailer is founder of the Human Biodiversity Institute, and movie critic for The American Conservative. His website http://www.iSteve.blogspot.com features his daily blog.
Repeating your own lies do not make them true. But go ahead and believe what you want about me. Its obvious its one of the few things that keeps you going. That and you're blinding hatred of everything.
November 6th, 2012: Americas new Independence Day.
Here is what I actually posted (I was quoting an article. What's quoted are NOT my own words, as Whomod misleadingly quoted me saying.)
Originally Posted By: Wonder Boy, posted January 14, 2008
http://www.vdare.com/sailer/070701_diversity.htm
For some reason, though, eighty years later, the descendents of East LA's Jewish immigrants are living in Beverly Hills and Malibu, while the descendents of East LA's Mexican immigrants are in Van Nuys or still stuck in East LA.
In summary, the first rule of rationality when you find you are digging a hole for yourself is … stop digging.
Oh... okay.
I mistakenly thought you agreed with that bullshit you possted then.
Illegal immigrants living in states and cities that have adopted strict immigration policies are packing up and moving back to their home countries or to neighboring states. The exodus has been fueled by a wave of laws targeting illegal immigrants in Oklahoma, Arizona, Colorado, Georgia and elsewhere. Many were passed after congressional efforts to overhaul the immigration system collapsed in June.
Immigrants say the laws have raised fears of workplace raids and deportation.
"People now are really frightened and scared because they don't know what's going to happen," says Juliana Stout, an editor at the newspaper El Nacional de Oklahoma. "They're selling houses. They're leaving the country."
Supporters of the laws cheer the departure of illegal immigrants and say the laws are working as intended.
Oklahoma state Rep. Randy Terrill, Republican author of his state's law, says the flight proves it is working. "That was the intended purpose," he says. "It would be just fine with me if we exported all illegal aliens to the surrounding states."
Most provisions of an Oklahoma law take effect in November. Among other things, it cuts off benefits such as welfare and college financial aid.
There's no hard demographic data on the trend, partly because it's hard to track people who are in the USA illegally. But school officials, real estate agents and church leaders say the movement is unmistakable.
In Tulsa, schools have seen a drop in Hispanic enrollment.
About 60% of Kendall-Whittier Elementary School's 950 students are Hispanic, Principal Judy Feary says. Since an enrollment report Sept. 10, she says, 14 have left. Four more said last week that they would move.
Three weeks ago, one couple dropped their three children at school, then returned after lunch with their belongings packed in an SUV and trailer. Feary says they took the kids and said they were moving back to Mexico. "They were afraid and cited the immigration law," she says.
Marshall Elementary, where enrollment is 60% Hispanic, has lost about 10 students this year to the immigration law, Principal Kayla Robinson says. Most moved to Texas. "These are families that have been here for a long time," she says.
Illegal immigrants also are leaving Georgia, where a law requires companies on government contracts with at least 500 employees to check new hires against a federal database to make sure they are legally authorized to work.
Mario Reyes, senior minister at the Tabernacle of Atlanta, says his church lost about 10 families this summer. His daughter, a real estate agent, is helping them sell their homes.
Churches across the city report similar losses, says Antonio Mansogo, a board member of the National Coalition of Latino Clergy and Christian Leaders.
"There's tension because you don't know when immigration (agents) might show up, and a lot of people don't want to take those chances," he says.
Real estate agent Guadalupe Sosa in Avondale, Ariz., outside Phoenix, says migration from the state began about three months ago, shortly after Gov. Janet Napolitano, a Democrat, signed a law that will take effect in January. Employers who hire illegal immigrants can lose their business licenses.
Of the 10 homes Sosa has on the market, half belong to families that plan to leave because of immigration tensions.
"They know they might be losing everything today or tomorrow," she says.
Maria Sanchez, 35, joined the migration with her sister and nephew, who are in the country legally. Sanchez was in the USA illegally, but she has gotten a temporary work permit.
The three lived in Aurora, Colo., when Sanchez was fired from her job as district manager of a fast-food chain after she couldn't provide a valid Social Security number.
Colorado has approved several immigration measures. One gives employers 20 days to check and photocopy documents such as driver's licenses and Social Security cards, which new workers present to prove their legal status.
Because of the laws, Sanchez, her sister and nephew left five months ago. "I moved to Utah because they don't have the same laws here," she says.
State Sen. Dave Schultheis says he hasn't observed a major migration out of Colorado but has heard anecdotal reports that illegal immigrants are leaving. "It's absolutely a good thing," he says. "We want to make Colorado the least friendly state to people who are here illegally."
In Hazleton, Pa., families started moving away after the city passed an illegal-immigrant law last summer, says Rudy Espinal, head of the Hazleton Hispanic Business Association. The law would fine landlords who rented to illegal immigrants and suspend the business licenses of companies that hired them. A companion measure would require tenants to register with the city and pay $10 for a rental permit.
A federal judge ruled the measures unconstitutional in July, but that hasn't stopped people moving away, he says.
"People are still leaving," Espinal says. "Some people have told me that they're leaving because they don't want their kids to grow up in an environment like this."
Hazleton Mayor Lou Barletta counters that some illegal immigrants who moved came back after the judge's decision, which the city is appealing. "I see a reversal," he says. "In a small city, it becomes obvious. … Schools are overcrowded and there are five-hour waits in the emergency room."
He says, "We don't want to chase immigrants away, just the illegal aliens who are causing many of the problem we are having."
All I can say is... good.
It can't happen fast enough, but this is a significant step in the right direction. It proves that if we enforce our laws, we don't have to deport every illegal immigrant, as illegal-sympathizers allege is impossible.
If we enforce our laws, they will deport themselves.
And again, this is about deporting ILLEGAL immigrants. Not racism or some kind of alleged blanket hatred. Just protecting our borders and national interests.
We affirm our status as citizens of the United States and, in our civic lives, we are first and foremost Americans. We embrace the principles of our nation and the rule of law which are set forth in our Constitution, and reject all attempts to divide this nation along ethnic, racial, or religious lines.
"Like all other Americans, we are also proud of ancestral heritage. In our private lives we cherish many of the customs and traditions that we and our ancestors brought to this country. Just as we reject efforts by the illegal alien advocacy network to use our common heritage to advance their own political agenda, so too do we reject attempts by the radical fringe that seeks to limit and enforce immigration in furtherance of their own distasteful views on racial identity. They do not speak for us and we do not speak for them.
"You Don't Speak for Me supports an immigration policy that requires everyone to respect the laws of this nation; that protects the legitimate interests of the American people; that embraces newcomers of all backgrounds who obey our laws, contribute to the common good, and endeavor to become a part of the fabric of American society. We believe these views are shared by the vast majority of Americans of Hispanic heritage. Any organization or individual who does not espouse these core values does not speak for us.
Brother Americans!
And a Dallas-based hispanic columnist who consistently advocates border security and greater assimilation of hispanic Americans:
It can't happen fast enough, but this is a significant step in the right direction. It proves that if we enforce our laws, we don't have to deport every illegal immigrant, as illegal-sympathizers allege is impossible.
If we enforce our laws, they will deport themselves.
And again, this is about deporting ILLEGAL immigrants. Not racism or some kind of alleged blanket hatred. Just protecting our borders and national interests.
no it's about racism and xenophobia. there's an economic recession and people start looking to blame outsiders. it happened last century during hardtimes in border towns and it's happening now. and the people like you who see america as a white country want to control any shifts in ethnicity so that you can maintain the majority and feel superior. what would Jesus say, i wonder.
no it's about racism and xenophobia. there's an economic recession and people start looking to blame outsiders. it happened last century during hardtimes in border towns and it's happening now. and the people like you who see america as a white country want to control any shifts in ethnicity so that you can maintain the majority and feel superior. what would Jesus say, i wonder.
Far from your slanders that I advocate some kind of white-only America, I clearly and consistently welcome anyone, of any race, who assimilates into English-speaking American culture, and who supports the patriotic unity of us as a nation (as opposed to those who fracture us along racial and ethnic lines and have an open hostility toward the mainstream of America).
Jesus would say: "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God What is God's" (Luke 20:25)
He advocated obedience of state authority, except where it violates the laws of God. As opposed to liberal anarchy.
National demographics do tend to trail behind the current year. Gathering statistical demographics on 300-million-plus Americans takes some time, and is only released every few years.
It gives some idea how high a ratio of illegals Mexicans are (59%) and hispanics as a whole are (81%) that explains why there is general resentment and suspicion of hispanics among the majority of U.S. citizens.
And that doesn't even cover legaal green-card hispanic immigrants those who enable illegals. Or how illegal Mexicans affect the nation as a whole, acting against the U.S. in their own Mexican/hispanic ethnocentric self-interest. As I said earlier, of the 1.1 million immigrants admitted and receiving green cards in 2007, 600,000 were living illegally in the U.S. already with legal-resident relatives. As well as voting Mexicans in California and elsewhere, who lobby for open borders and welfare benefits for illegals.
But it does give an inkling to what an overwhelming percentage of the immigration problem Mexicans are.
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