My Memories of San Antonio Radio

 By Roy Ortega

The matchup on the radio could not have been any less likely. As a shy and deeply introverted high

KUKA-AM 1970

school kid, I set out one day to foolishly try to match talents with some of the coolest guys on the radio. Honestly, I'll never know how I managed to muster the gumption. 

In the late 1960s, AM Radio in my hometown of San Antonio, Texas was hot. Top 40 hit songs dominated the airwaves. A mix of rock-and-roll, pop, metal music, and soul music blared on radios everywhere. I spent most of my free time listening in awe on my RCA transistor radio to DJs with names like Lee "Baby" Sims, Woody Roberts. Ricci Ware and Don Couser. KTSA-AM and KONO-AM were the ultimate "go to" radio stations with legions of loyal listeners all over South Texas.  

In Search of Our Rightful Place in Radio

In the West Side barrios of San Antonio, a new generation of Mexican American teens searched for its cultural identity and in the process laid the roots to a whole new genre of music programming. 

The history of the "West Side Sound" had actually been forged at least two decades earlier by a number of teen garage bands that sprang up in West San Antonio. Bands like Sunny and the Sunliners, Rudy Tee and the Reno Bops and the Royal Jesters began putting their own twist on a blend of rock and roll and soul songs they heard on the radio. Local teen dance venues were replete with homegrown music.  Unfortunately, there were no mainstream radio stations willing to put their music on the air.

High School: My Starting Point

Whether by luck or a sudden flash of awakened maturity (an elusive trait in most teenagers), I found myself in the office of Mr. Alec Coe, owner of KUKA-FM one day for a job interview. How I got there is another story, but

James Vasquez

I suspect that my high school principal James Vasquez might have had something to do with my being there.  Among all of my teachers and administrators at John F. Kennedy High School, Mr. Vasquez seemed to be particularly adept at recognizing the potential of all of his students. Not only did he recognize a specific talent in me, but he also encouraged it by steering me toward the school's closed-circuit education TV station - KHS 77 - where I learned the basic elements of TV and radio broadcasting. When Mr. Coe went looking for someone to fill an entry-level position at his radio station, he went to the right place. 

A Career Boost

By the time I walked into the broadcast studios of KUKA-AM in early 1970, I had already developed a keen ambition to become a rock-and-roll radio disc jockey. Needless to say, my father was not thrilled. A gruff World War II veteran, he made it clear he would never stand for a long-haired rock-and-roll radio DJ in his midst. Somehow, my mother intervened and assured him it was alright. 

Henry Peña and Rudy Rocha

In all honesty, my ambition could have easily been mistaken for what it really was: cockiness and self-assuredness, totally opposite of my former self. Some would say I might have been too "full of myself." Nonetheless, I walked into the DJ booth into what became an unexpected humbling experience. In front of me were two popular radio DJs performing their cool antics live on the air: Rudy Rocha and "Little Junior Jesse" Vallado.

Henry "Pepsi" Peña

In another part of the studio, I caught a brief glimpse of Henry "Pepsi" Peña who was on his way to another job as the host of a new teen dance show to air on KWEX-TV.  All three were already established as the key members of KUKA's Top Teen Tunes radio show. Their level of creativity, talent and loquaciousness, along with their ability to communicate to the masses kept me in total awe. In my state of starstruck bliss, I recall thinking to myself there's no way I can match up to these guys. I admit my self-confidence suffered a little that day but after a few days of introducing songs and reading "KUKA Power dedications" on the air, I was hooked on radio broadcasting. To this day I hold Rudy, Henry and Jesse in the highest regard for their mentorship and guidance that later led to many successes in my own career. I am happy to say that a little bit of their coolness rubbed off on me too. 

The Rise of Hispanic Radio 

Even as far back as the 1940s, young Hispanic kids in San Antonio were battling to fit into two cultures - American and Mexican. Many of them were first- or second-generation

Mexican Americans who embraced rock and roll and American pop music to the dismay of their parents who were still listening to traditional Mexican bolero ballads and conjunto music on KCOR-AM. 

Thanks to the foresight of people like the Coe Family, owners of KUKA-AM and the Davila Family, owners of KEDA-AM, several young Hispanic DJs began appearing on the radio, spinning music that reflected the musical tastes of a young and flourishing demographic. In essence, this type of radio programming became the foundation for what we now call Tejano music.

Today, Tejano music accounts for a substantial portion of the $1.1 billion Latin music industry, according to Variety Magazine. Tejano is undoubtedly deeply ingrained in the culture of South Texas and many parts of the American Southwest. 

However small and insignificant my role might have been, I am grateful to have been a part of its beginning.

Roy Ortega may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com. All comments are welcome.

Related Links: 

Earning a place on the dial: Raoul Cortez, KCOR, and Spanish-language radio | National Museum of American History (si.edu)

Latin Music Revenue Hits Peak of $627M in 2023, Música Mexicana Up 56% (variety.com)

H-E-B Heaven Can Wait

By Roy Ortega

 A recent article in a San Antonio newspaper asking why there are no H-E-B food stores in El Paso got me pondering the same question. However, my conclusions differ radically from those reached in the article. Frankly, H-E-B is not really a good fit for El Paso.

First, full disclosure. I am a confirmed El Pasoan. My bonafides were strictly forged in El Paso. But I wasn't born in El Paso. I was born in San Antonio, home of H-E-B. My loyalties over the span of 50-years have been almost equally divided between the cultures of two great cities.  

What Works in San Antonio Doesn't Necessarily Work in El Paso.   

One of El Paso's strongest appeals is that it is nothing like the rest of Texas. Call it the "un-Texas." I have often argued that El Paso is so different from the rest of Texas, it doesn't even belong in Texas. 

El Paso is located on the farthest reaches of the realm. It is so far to the west that it exists in a different time zone. The landscape is notable for its high deserts and mountains that are found nowhere else in Texas. West Texas politics are totally opposite of the wide conservative stripe that tends to run everywhere east of the Pecos River. El Paso's dry and cloudless weather differs dramatically from San Antonio's often hot and steamy weather. I say it again. El Paso is not like the rest of Texas. Period. 

Over the years, there have been numerous efforts by some well-meaning El Pasoans to emulate the successes of San Antonio. Among those was a silly attempt to redirect the Rio Grande near downtown El Paso to create a River Walk. Of course, those plans ended up flowing downstream unrealized.  

Another effort was a private endeavor to establish a "La Villita" shopping district complete with reenactments of old-west gunfights and shady ladies. Another fail. 

Tejano music and Tex-Mex food: Not Really a Thing in El Paso 

Truth is that Tejano music was never fully embraced by El Paso music lovers. Even at the height of the Tejano music craze of the 80s, 90s and 2000s, El Paso Hispanic music tastes remained loyal to the popular northern Mexican norteña and banda genres.

Finally, when it comes to food, don't mess with El Paso. Chico's Tacos reign. Over the years, Tex-Mex cuisine has been largely ignored in El Paso. Restuarant chains like Austin-based Chuy's and San Antonio-based Taco Cabana have made noble efforts to lure diners away from the typical Chihuahuan and New Mexican-style menus that dominate in El Paso. Again, few takers. 

Photo Credit: L&J Restaurant

Don't get me wrong. I would love to see H-E-B establish a presence in El Paso. But regionalism is a strong current to run against. El Paso is nothing like San Antonio. It doesn't want to be.

 H-E-B heaven can wait. 

Comments and criticism are welcome. Roy Ortega may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com. 

H-E-B has stores in Texas cities big and small. Why not in El Paso? (expressnews.com)

Don't Tell Me the Border Is Not Secure

By Roy Ortega

Every election cycle, the immigration issue becomes the easiest, most convenient target for politicians seeking to trigger emotions and generate votes. Today's news is dominated by breathless shouts of invading immigrants and a severe border "crisis" that threatens the safety and security of an entire nation. 

As a 50-year resident of the U.S. - Mexico border, I'm here to say, "puras pendejadas!"  (Pure nonsense) 

We've Seen This Before

Let's get a few facts in order. What is happening on the southern border right now is nothing new and certainly nothing to get worked up about. Contrary to what right-wing politicians and conservative media pundits say, there are no massive waves of desperate, wild-eyed immigrants looting, raping, pillaging and terrorizing our border communities. It's just not happening. The images you're seeing on Fox Entertainment TV represent a ridiculously small part of our border reality. I happen to live a few minutes from the Mexican border and I can tell you first-hand that life in my community is no different than in any other American city. I feel as safe in El Paso as I do when I visit my kin folk in Des Moines, Iowa.

Border Security  

Photo credit: Reuters

Fears of an impending invasion by rampaging hordes of immigrants are completely unfounded. It's also comical to suggest that a foreign government could easily penetrate the border.  At this writing, the southern border has more than 20,000 U.S. border patrol agents and a total of 5,000 local police, state troopers and sheriff's officers on duty at all times. On top of that, numerous military installations are located all along the entire length of our 1,254-mile border with Mexico. In my border community of El Paso, Texas, Fort Bliss is situated a stone's throw away from the border. The massive army post is home to 38,500 active-duty personnel and 1,000 reservists. Also, there are over 21,000 active-duty personnel stationed at nearby Holloman AFB.  If you try to argue that our border is not secure, you are wrong. 

Immigration History

So, for the sake of understanding, let's take still a larger view of this hot-button issue. Truth is, immigration matters are a constant feature of American life and have been for decades. Historically, there have been frequent dips and spikes in the numbers of people attempting to migrate into the U.S. Every time a Central American country erupts in turmoil, immigrants make their way to the U.S. in search of safety and security. This has been going on for the better part of the last 80-years or so.

Sure, you can argue that the number of immigrants fleeing violence and economic turmoil from mostly central and south American countries is alarmingly high right now. But let's put it all in correct perspective: Following the Vietnam War, the U.S. allowed more than 1.6 million refugees to enter. In time, almost all blended respectfully well into American society. Today, Vietnamese Americans can accept credit for their impressive contributions to every aspect of American culture. In 1980, more than 120,000 Cuban refugees were processed into the U.S. during the Mariel Boatlift. Again, the vast majority of this group has made positive contributions to the fabric of America including business, science, the arts, education and government. 

Under every surge in immigration we've seen, immigrants were allowed to enter and stay under existing immigration laws and policies. It's no different today. Of course, the number of illegal entrants is something to take seriously. Illegal apprehensions are high, but that's a good thing. That means the U.S. Border Patrol is performing its job admirably. 

Border Crime

If you're concerned about crime along the border, let me assure you the vast majority of American citizens will never be affected by illegal activity at the hands of Mexican cartels. Again this year, El Paso and other American border communities were ranked among the safest, according to FBI crime statistics. But if you want to quibble over border crime numbers, let me make one more glaring comparison to illustrate my point: According to the Citizen Council for Public Security and Criminal Justice, the city of New Orleans, Louisiana had a murder rate of 70.56 per 100,000 residents in 2023. That's higher than Ciudad Juarez which had a murder rate of 67.60 per 100,000 residents.

To conclude, one can't help but wonder when the truth about immigration will finally get a fair airing. Not any time soon I suspect and certainly, not during a presidential election year. 

Your thoughts and criticisms are welcome. Roy Ortega may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com. 

Related link:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_cities_by_homicide_rate

The Life of Mamá Grande

Author's note: The following narrative is based on an expansive volume of known family history, both written and oral, which was reconciled and supplemented with publicly available historical facts and documents. A dedicated effort was made to convey an accurate portrayal of the life of Dolores Valenzuela Ortega. 

 By Roy Ortega

She was known affectionately by everyone as "Mama Grande." But in my family, we called her

"Granny." She was a beloved and colorful figure whose diminutive stature belied her strength through decades of hardship, tragedy, pain and occasional triumph. By description, she was a small and feisty woman with a firm character and a loving nature. Over the years, she became the strength and soul of the large and burgeoning Ortega family. 

Maria Dolores Valenzuela was born on January 10, 1888, in the village of
Huánusco located in the Mexican state of Zacatecas to Jesus Valenzuela and Carmen Rodrigues. The Valenzuela family lived among other farming and ranching families at the beginning of a long and protracted period of uncertainty and political turmoil. The growing economic crisis during the reign of President Porfirio Diaz eventually lead to a bloody revolution that lasted from 1910 to 1920 and claimed the lives of as many as 2-million people.

Huanusco, Zacatecas

By the early 1900s, Dolores had met and married Froilan Ortega, a member of a neighboring ranching family. The couple began their lives together in the arid semi-mountainous scrublands between the tiny villages of La Cienega, Jalisco and Jalpa, Zacatecas. 

Froilan Ruiz Ortega

In 1906, their first daughter Amelia was born followed by Blas in 1908, Consuelo in 1914, Amparo in 1916, Hortencia in 1917, Adela in 1922 and Luis in 1925. Three other children - Salvador, Lupita and Mercedes - were born later in the U.S.

Life for the hundreds of ranching families in Southwestern Mexico was not easy, even before the start of the revolution. Most people lived in small impoverished ejidos and scratched out a meager living on communal farms or individually owned haciendas in the area. Some ranch owners were direct descendants of Spanish landholders who vehemently resisted calls for land reforms. During the Mexican Revolution, pitched disagreements over land ownership were a bitter and oftentimes violent matter between neighbors. But it was a sad and tragic episode that eventually drove Froilan and Dolores to leave Mexico. 

Cultural and Political Woes in Mexico

Historical accounts of the life and culture of Zacatecas in the early 1900s describe the presence of several ruling clans

that controlled nearly every aspect of the local culture. Among them were members of the Camino and Reyna families who were known to hold strict and brutal governance over thousands of residents.

Click on image to see a closer view.

In a Web posting about the life and culture of Zacatecas in 1913, a descendant of one of the controlling families wrote that families in this part of Mexico routinely arranged marriages for their young people. Worse, they were subjected to strict rules and protocols that
were often brutally enforced. "All were related. So, I think that's why my grandpa says our family got away with all sorts of things. Like tio would be the sheriff or the cousin the bishop or another cousin the banker and so on," wrote the descendant.

Trouble Stirs Between Families

According to family accounts, Froilan and Dolores' 19-year-old daughter Amelia caught the eye of a powerful, older man in the community named Manuel Reyna who allegedly kidnapped her and announced his intention to marry her. Despite desperate protests from Froilan, Dolores and Amelia herself, Reyna literally carried her away. 

My cousin Josie Martinez, whose mother Adela Ortega Martinez often regaled her with family lore, gave this account of the episode:

"When Grandpa and Grandma went to tell the authorities, the answer was, don't worry, he always does that, but he'll bring her back at a later day. They went higher, after going several times to the authorities but were told to be grateful because he was going to marry Amelia."

In other words, Reyna had no intention of releasing Amelia, and the local authorities had no intention of helping the Ortegas. 

Frightened and weary by their inability to free Amelia from a forced marriage, Froilan and Dolores grew more distraught. Combined with the growing economic and political unrest in the country, the couple made a decision to flee northward into the United States. 

Immigration records show that Froilan Ortega and his four brothers crossed into the U.S. at El Paso in 1925. Once safely in the U.S., Froilan sent for his family. Sadly, Amelia was left behind, hopeful of a future reunion. 

For Dolores and her other children, the youngest Luis still a mere infant, the trek northward was undoubtedly a difficult journey filled with indescribable dangers and obstacles. Dolores and the children are said to have literally walked most of the way to the U.S. border, a nearly one-thousand-mile journey that lasted several months. Once united with Froilan, the family spent most of 1926 making its way first to Mississippi, Arkansas and later to Northern Iowa and Southern Minnesota. Along the way, they worked as itinerant farm workers moving from location to location during the summer and fall harvests. 

Buffalo Center, Iowa

During their time toiling the land, it was Dolores who devoted all of her emotion, time and energy to ensure the safety and welfare of the growing family. While Froilan and his older son Blas labored in the fields, Dolores tended the wood fire making tortillas, rice and beans. The older girls, Consuelo, Amparo and Hortencia, all pitched in to care for the younger children. 

In 1927 Dolores gave birth to twins Salvador and Lupita in an open

Salvador, left, and Lupita as infants.
Sadly, Lupita died shortly after
this photo was taken. 

sugar beet field near the town of Helena, Arkansas. Still another heartbreak for the family occurred less than a year later when little Lupita died. But life wore on. Three years later, Mercedes was born while the family remained encamped in Northern Iowa. By 1929, the family had settled in one of several migrant camps in the town of Buffalo Center in Winnebago, County, Iowa near the Minnesota state line. 

Life in Iowa was unbearably difficult made worse by the calamitous stock market crash in 1929. The Great Depression impacted every segment of American society. Froilan and Dolores struggled furiously to keep their young family fed, clothed and sheltered. The harsh winters in the Midwest made life even harder for Froilan and Dolores who carried the physical and emotional burdens of a family that by now had grown to eleven people. Despite the hardships and heartbreaks, Dolores remained confident of a better future. 

Sadly, times were about to get worse for the Ortega family. 

Tragedy Strikes Again

By 1930, oldest son Blas was 22-years old and decided to strike out on his own. A few years later, he made his

The grave of Froilan Ortega
is located in the 
Riverside Cemetary in 
Blue Earth, Minnesota.

way down to Des Moines to raise his own family. Meanwhile, Froilan continued working as a laborer in the fields. The work was backbreaking and difficult, but he pressed on.  

On a cold and dreary day in the middle of winter of 1930, Froilan began to feel the effects of the long years of hard physical work on his 47-year-old body.  A few weeks after the onset of a severe fever, Froilan died of pneumonia. 

The family was devastated. Dolores was suddenly faced with the grim reality of surviving without Froilan. With no main income-earner and no emotional support, Dolores and her large family was suddenly forced to make a major, life-changing decision. Should the family remain in Iowa, or head back to Mexico?

Not long after Froilan's funeral, Dolores undoubtedly consulted with her older children and together decided to head south to Texas. Oldest son Blas chose to remain in Iowa. 

A New Life in Texas

The circumstances surrounding a decision to go to San Antonio are still unclear. According to Josie Martinez, the family had befriended members of the Huizar family in Von Ormy, Texas south of San Antonio who provided assistance to Dolores. 

Dolores and her daughters are said to have found some peace living in the pleasant community of nearby Somerset, Texas. During their stay in the area, daughters Consuelo and Amparo met and married their husbands and settled into quiet, peaceful lives, each raising families of their own. Amparo married Narciso Mireles, a tall strapping railroad worker, while Consuelo married Chale Huizar, whose family roots extended back to the establishment of the nearby San Jose Mission.

Amelia Flees Mexico

The grave of Amelia
Ortega in Somerset,
Texas

During this period (mid 1930s), oldest daughter Amelia - who was forced to remain in Mexico - managed to escape her abusive relationship with Manuel Reyna and made her way to Texas to rejoin her mother and siblings. In a fit of rage, Manuel is said to have traveled to Texas to forcibly take Amelia back to Mexico. But by now, Amelia had found solace with another man with whom she bore a son, Joe. Disheartened, Manuel returned to Mexico. The episode took a tragic turn a couple of years later when Amelia died during the birth of a second child. Sadly, the child died two days later. Josie Martinez related that shortly before dying, "She (Amelia) gave Joe to tia Consuelo and tio Chale to raise as their own son." 

Life in Texas

For Dolores, life in Texas was a varied existence consisting of her role as a firm presence and matriarch of the family. By the late 1930s, she found her way to the Southside of San Antonio where she continued to raise her youngest sons Luis and Salvador. She also met and married a man named Miguel Herrera, known to the family as "Don Miguel," and began a new phase of her life.

Dolores Ortega
with her husband
Miguel Herrera 
and son Salvador
about 1943.

One of her other daughters, Adela Ortega Martinez, lived nearby, raising her own family.

By the early 1940s, World War II had begun to rage in Europe, making it clear to Dolores that Luis and Salvador would soon be subjected to military duty. True to history, Luis was called up to serve in late 1943 and Salvador was called up in early 1945. With two sons fighting in a far-off war, Dolores spent several agonizing and emotionally draining years in constant fear of losing her sons. Luckily, both sons returned home, although Luis suffered wounds in combat from which he quickly healed. 

A Well-Deserved Peace

Dolores Ortega lived in
this house at 1330 Stonewall
in San Antonio during the
 final years of her life.

When her husband Miguel died in the late 1940s, Dolores moved next door to her daughter Consuelo at
1330 Stonewall in South San Antonio. Throughout the 1950s and early 1960s, Dolores lived a quiet and happy existence. By all accounts, she was happiest when surrounded by her grandchildren who visited frequently. Members of our family recall this period as the most joyous and tranquil time of her life. The image of her rolling her own cigarettes with tobacco from a can of Bugler and tending the tall rows of corn stalks in her garden is vivid to this day. "She sat on the porch, and I sat at her feet and watched her roll her cigarettes and then light one up," recalls my sister Etna Ortega. "I also recall seeing her working in the garden between the corn stalks that were taller than her."  

On a cold January day, my father Salvador Ortega received word that his mother had been rushed to Robert B. Green General Hospital in Downtown San Antonio. When he arrived, he was told by the hospital staff he could not enter, citing medical reasons. Salvador felt a strong sense of dread and demanded to see his mother. Finally, after protesting loudly, doctors directed him to a nearby room and informed him of her sudden death.

Dolores Valenzuela Ortega died on January 15, 1963, of a heart attack at the age of 75. She is buried at the Mission San Jose Cemetery in San Antonio, Texas. To this day, the image of my dad sitting in his easy chair sobbing remains permanently imprinted in my mind. It was the first time I had ever seen my dad cry.

Dolores V. Ortega
at the Mission San Jose 
Cemetery.

Roy Ortega may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com. All comments are welcome.

Author's note: The fate of Mercedes Ortega, the youngest child born to Dolores and Froilan Ortega in Iowa, is not known. Attempts to locate pertinent government documents about her proved fruitless. Input on this topic is welcome.

Related link:  Some History on Huanusco and La Luz before the "Rulebook" | Nuestros Ranchos (nuestrosraices.com)

This is the 1930 U.S. Census from Kossuth,
County, Iowa. The census lists Froilan, Dolores and
their children ranging in age from 6-months
old to 15 years old.

This is the death certificate of Dolores 
Valenzuela (Herrera) Ortega.

Recent photo of Huanusco, Zacatecas, birthplace
of Dolores Valenzuela

Recent photo of Jalpa, Zacatecas. Members of 
the Ortega family resided here in the early 1900s. 

This is the death certificate of Amelia Ortega.
She died during childbirth on July 30, 1938.

Religion, Humanism and Social Media

By Roy Ortega

By now, I guess it's fairly understood that I am a non-religious man who no longer ascribes to the tenets of 

organized religion. I realize that expressing brutally honest thoughts about the failings of religion is an invitation to the scorn and retribution of the deeply devoted. But here goes:

First, I must tell you that I do not disparage my religious friends and family who choose to follow the faith they were born into. It's all they know. But I have to be honest with myself and acknowledge openly that I don't easily suffer my church-loving brethren, especially on social media. I know they don't mean harm and most of them are good and decent people. Christians in particular are compelled by their religion to spread the gospel by any means at their grasp. They're born into a religion that teaches them that theirs is the only true religion in the world. More and more, however, religious people insist on using public forums like social media to proselytize and promote the message of their God and their Dear Lord Jesus Christ to the rest of us, whether we want to hear it or not. 

God and Religion Are Not the Same Thing

Someone wanted to know recently when I stopped believing in God and when I became an atheist.  Here's my truth and reality, folks: I have never said I am atheist. I don't even like the word. Nor have I ever said I don't believe in God. The only clear and unambiguous answer I can give to anyone who cares to hear it is that I accept the same notions of spirituality and morality that humanists around the world believe. Some people place humanists on the same level as atheists, but I don't. Religion is one thing. A belief (or non-belief) in God is another. 

For reasons that are my own, I stopped being a Christian years ago following a long period of introspection and soul searching. I love the teachings of Jesus, always have. But I have little faith in the religions that were created in his name. I finally came to the conclusion that religion is an invention of man's imagination and not suited to my own spiritual needs.

Fulfillment

As a non-Christian, non-religious person, I do not feel unfulfilled, nor do I lack love, compassion and empathy for my fellow humans. My moral core is fully intact. I do not feel something is missing in my life. I am not an empty soul. I feel love and endearment the same as any other human on earth. I feel hurt and pain and I grieve for the fate of my fellow humans. Truth is, most Christians see me as a doomed soul destined to eternal damnation simply because I don't share their faith in the same way they do. That they believe this truly saddens me. 

I bring up these tender thoughts only for the sake of trying to come to terms with the fact that although religious people freely and incessantly quote Bible passages and text online, they do not seem to be interested in the views of non-believers or, as I jokingly describe them, wild-eyed heathens like me.

These days, I avoid posting my views about politics and religion on social media unless I am forcefully provoked by someone with an obvious harmful or idiotic agenda. Instead, I choose to focus on using Facebook, Instagram, etc. to keep in touch with family and friends. I am genuinely interested in their lives. 

What is a Humanist?

Humanists are not what you think they are. Humanism isn't an organized entity. It is not a church, a temple, a mosque or an altar in the parking lot of Walmart. There is no humanist leader, CEO or head of state. Nothing like that. In a nutshell, humanists are people who believe the goodness of humans comes from inside the individual. It doesn't come from religion or any kind of divine intervention. It doesn't come from a holy book and it certainly doesn't come a political or religious leader. Humanism is a philosophy, a way of thinking. Humanists are simply good people who believe that the goodness of people comes from the core of the human soul. 

I do not spend a whole lot of my time trying to explain all of this to friends and family, but it is clearly difficult for the congregants of established religions - especially Christianity - to fully embrace humanism. Religion-driven genocide and unspeakable acts of violence against humans in the name of religion is a historical fact and continues to this very moment. From the teachings of Jesus Christ, you would think humanism would be the basic foundation of most religions. It isn't. 

Roy Ortega may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com. Comments welcomed.  

Opting for Spinal Surgery Is a Major, Difficult Decision. My Take

By Roy Ortega

During my extended convalescence from spinal surgery, I have heard from several friends and
family members who have been dealing with their own battles with back and spinal issues. I am always

Spinal issues can be very painful.

happy to offer some insight regarding my personal experience with nearly a lifetime of excruciating back pain and my ultimate decision to undergo tricky surgery to correct it.

The most important piece of general advice I can give to anyone considering back surgery is to avoid delaying the inevitable. If you are diagnosed with chronic spinal problems such as herniated discs, lumbar spinal stenosis, etc. it is probably best not to wait 30-years to have it addressed. In my case, I allowed my Degenerative Disc Disease to worsen over several decades causing me unnecessary long-term suffering. Waiting until you’re older to have spinal surgery can come with additional risks and complications. Clearly, opting for major surgery is a big decision. I spent literally months researching the topic and trying to decide if it was right for me. 

My recovery from a laminectomy, lumbar decompression and fusion of five vertebrae has gone smoothly, but a couple of post-surgery issues have made for some uncomfortable moments. My surgeon warned me I would feel something akin to getting hit by a truck in the days and weeks following surgery and he was right. The rehab portion of the recovery period is certainly not for the faint-hearted. It is long, painful and extremely difficult especially for older folks used to a life of lounging and relaxing, not weeks of rigorous physical therapy.   

As I mentioned to a close friend battling a case of ankylosing spondylosis - a painful form of spinal stenosis - it makes sense to consider surgery and its 3-6 month recovery period rather than spending the rest of your life in total pain and misery.

Roy Ortega responds to all messages and emails. He may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com

Message to My Mamá on Mother's Day

 By Roy Ortega

Hola, mi querida mamá,

Como estas? On this Mother's Day, I want to spend a few moments with you to express my love and share my thoughts of you since you left us so many years ago. We all miss you so much and our hearts ache for your absence. It is an ache that never goes away. But as you taught us, we will endure. 

First, I want to thank you for the legacy you left behind. It is a legacy of love and compassion that continues to shape your children's, and grandchildren's lives. Your love and nurturing helped us understand the importance of compassion, kindness and love for others. It is a legacy we promise will be handed down interminably. 

We miss you not just for your absence among us but for the little things and big things we remember. Hearing the soft shuffle of your feet in the kitchen in the early morning hours as you prepared our breakfast of bean and cheese tacos, chorizo con huevo and fresh made tortillas is a sound that remains deeply ingrained in my memory. Hearing your voice gently nudging us to wake up to go to school; "Levantesen, hijos. Se les haces tarde." Wake up children, it's getting late.

Mamá, amid the wave of sentimental memories of you, there are some things I wish would have been true when you still lived among us. If cell phones and the internet had existed back then, I would have been able to ease your constant worry and concern about my safety and well-being as I set out into the world on my own. I know you missed me and cried every day for me. I know that there were times when you were nearly paralyzed with worry and concern for me as I worked and traveled in faraway places. I know you waited anxiously for my Sunday morning telephone calls. I wish I had not brought you so much worry and pain. The heartbreaking image of you standing at the front door tearfully waving goodbye to me after a short visit still makes me cry. Ultimately, I know you accepted it all with pride for all of the success you helped me achieve in life.

Mamá, you carried a special burden for all of your children and grandchildren. I know you are proud and happy for me and Jo Anne for raising such a fine family. But in the end, you should know that I will always feel your love. I will remain forever grateful to you for my life and for loving me endlessly. 

Mi querida mamá, siempre te adoraré. Feliz día de las madres. 

My mother, Rebecca Ramos Ortega, passed away on January 4, 2003. If you wish to comment, please email me at rortega54@elp.rr.com