Rancho El Toro
from Mas Alla de El Toro by Beth Perez 2002

Vicente Salazar, son of Jose Maria Salazar and Maria Josefa Gutierrez, was born in Mexico on April 17, 1828. Although the exact location of Vicente's birth has not been discovered, his family was from Sabinas Hidalgo. What eventually brought him to Texas? Perhaps the prospect of a better life caused him to make the move. Perhaps it was simply a sense of adventure and the independance of a young man wanting to make his way in the world. Whatever the reason, in 1852, at the age of twenty-two, Vicente was a resident of Cameron County, Texas.
That same year, Vicente took a bride. He married Josefa Acosta on May 24th. The next year, their first child, Jose Maria, was born. The following years brought Bartolo, Rosaria, Benigna and Vicente Jr., born 1855, 1856, 1859 and 1861, respectively. Josefa's parents, Norberto and Petra Acosta, lived nearby, along with their younger daughter, Felicita. Vicente and Norberto were farmers, although neither were land owners during this time. They worked and lived on land owned by Louis Renaud. Louis also made his home on that land, along with his wife and children. During this period, Vicente was not as well off financially as his father-in-law nor his employer. However, he was planning for the future. Vicente's future, though, did not go as he had intended. After Vicente Jr.'s birth, Josefa died. Her parents and sister left the area soon after that. Perhaps the pain of their loss was too great; or, perhaps they were not comfortable with the fact that Vicente would soon marry again.
Francisco and Agatona Garcia had lived in Cameron County since at least the mid 1840's. During the 1860's, they were one of the many families living on and farming Louis Renaud's land. Their home was in close proximity to Vicente's; there is no doubt the families were well acquainted. The Garcia's daughter, Francisca, was the third oldest of what would eventually number sixteen children. She and Vicente were married outside of Cameron County about 1862.
Francisca became mother to Josefa's children; the birth of her own nine children spanned the next twenty-five years.
Louis Renaud died in 1872. In 1878, his daughter, Rafaela, sold her share of inherited property to Vicente for the sum of $100.00. Louis' daughter, Dolores, also sold her share of the property to Vicente. He paid three-hundred Mexican Eagle Dollars in 1886 for possession of the land.
Vicente was now a man of property, owning and operating his 2,214 acre ranch. He called it Rancho El Toro, named for the resident bull, whose services were often sought to expand herds of neighboring ranchers. His children, for the most part, were grown and starting families of their own. Their homes were also on the ranch, the sons making their living on their father's land. In 1902, Vicente's ranch held forty-two horses, fifteen head of cattle and forty sheep. The 1902 tax records show that each acre of his land was valued at $1.00. The horses value was $210.00, the cattle valued at $120.00 and the sheep at $40.00. Vicente had planned and provided well for his family. What was life like for these families just after the turn of the century? What was it like to wake up each morning on this vast expanse of ranch land? The amount of work needed to maintain the property must have been enormous. When they rested, what kind of activities occupied the time of the families? What did they do for fun? Did any of them ever sit quietly in the midst of seemingly never ending land and just breathe in the wonders of God? Did they have hopes and dreams as we have today? Precious few details are known of these particular families......
Vicente Salazar died June 8, 1902. His wife, Francisca, died February 6, 1903. Their children were heirs to El Toro and continued to make their home there. Then came the winter of 1910 and the beginning of the Mexican Revolution. Once known as the Wild Horse Desert, the valley was an area in which legitimate business and criminal activities often mixed with each other. The Mexican Revolution only added more strain to the already tumultuous area. Accusations, thefts, murder, revenge killings, all were commonplace in the valley during this time. For Tejano ranch families, however, these occurrences were nothing new. Countless Tejano families had suffered immense hardship and pain for decades, enduring countless injustices at the hands of men who had lost sight of everything but greed.
The Texas Rangers were one of the forces given the task of attempting to restore order to the valley during the years of the Mexican Revolution. In actuality, the Rangers had terrorized Tejano ranch owners for many years prior to that time. They drove ranch families from their property by use of intimidation, threat and often, violence. Officially, the Rangers were a small band of men. However, the terror wrought by their actions matched that of an army. When the evolution began, the actions of the Rangers only continued as before. Why? The actions stemmed from the desire of Anglo ranchers to own the land and also from prejudice against a people who were seen as inferior outcasts. However, most Tejano families possessed rightful title to their lands and, unlike the Anglos, had been in Texas their entire lives.
Cecilia Almaguer Rendon, a Brownsville native, was a young child when the Rangers froced their way into her parent's home with their guns drawn. They searched the house, took the food belonging to the family, and then took something much more important. Her memories of this fearful time, as documented in Frank N. Samponaro and Paul J. Vanderwood's book, Robert Runyon's Photographs of the Border Conflict, 1913-1916, are as follows:
"They sent many rinches (Rangers) to the area where we lived because they thought we were helping the Mexican bandits....The bandits would come around and ask for food, and if you didn't give them any, they would take what was already prepared. But the bandits never came to our home because the rinches were nearby." (p. 77)
"On one occasion the rinches apprehended my cousin Encarnacion right in our farm because they thought he was a bandit. He had come from Kingsville to visit my mother, because she had raised him....He said he would sleep outside because it was too hot indoors. It was summertime. We didn't want him to sleep outside, because we had heard talk the rinches were coming around, and didn't know when they would arrive. At about 2:30 a.m. the rinches came and the first thing they found was my cousin. They got him up just the way he was; he was in his underclothes. They didn't let him put on his shoes or anything. They put on handcuffs and made him stand in front of the car lights One guarded him and the others searched the place. (p. 77)"The rinches then put my cousin in the car and left. They took him to a cemetery about a block away, placed him in front of a cross and shot him dead. We heard the noise. They left him laying there. The following morning instead of going to work in the fields as usual, we went to the cemetery. Poor cousin, there he was, just laying there. It happened that he had fallen right on my grandfather's grave, although the rinches didn't know that. He was about twenty-one years old. We didn't put him in a box. We just wrapped him in a sheet and a blanket, dug a deep grave and put him in. Then we covered him up. (p. 78)
"That was the way it was with the rinches. We were afraid to challenge them because they were like big animals and they had guns....There was no remedy but to pray to God that the rinches would go away....Many families abandoned their farms and lost their belongings. We had lots of cows, chickens, and pigs. Everything was left behind." (p. 78)
Vicente's family not only witnessed the terror wrought by those times, they experienced it first hand. Vicente's son, Gumersindo, was married to Ignacia Loya. Ignacia's sister, Carmen, was kidnapped, either by bandits or Rangers. The family never knew which group had forced their way into the home at the Rancho El Toro. The family's men were tied to the posts supporting the porch while young Carmen was taken. Only age fifteen, she was never seen again.
Esteban Salazar, grandson of Vicente, confirmed the brutality of the Rangers, remembering the fear that the family lived with on a constant basis.
Vicente's grandaughter, Amalia, also recalled those times. She remembered the Texas Rangers assaults on the innocent families and the fear within her own family at the Rancho El Toro. They lived with the constant threat that the Rangers would make good on their threats to kill all male members of the family. The experience was something that Amalia would never forget. Many years passed before she was able to put behind her the memories of the rinches, who were known to sing on their patrols, "Oh bury me not on the lone praire-ee, where the wild coyotes will howl over me! In a narrow grave just six by three, where all the Mexkins ought to be!" (Frank N. Samponaro, Paul J. Vanderwood, Robert Runyon's Photographs of the Border Conflict, 1913-1916 Texas State Historical Association, 1991 p. 78)
Thousands of Mexicans and the Tejanos who endured harrassment and worse from the Texas Rangers fled to Mexico. Like Vicente's children and grandchildren, they left behind their ranches, belongings and their livelihoods. Some later returned, as did the Salazar family. Some, however, no longer possessed a legal title to prove ownership of the land they had abandoned. Of those who possessed titles, many weren't financially able to pay steep court costs to have their lands returned. Anglo ranchers, with many sources with which to provide capital, took quick possession of the land. The Tejanos were left with the formidable task of starting over, when they had nothing to start over with.
Vicente's children fared better than many. They sold most of their land in 1912. Five-hundred acres were sold to Louis B. Puente, a local realtor, for $7,500.00. An additional one-hundred acres were sold to Claudio Leal, a longtime neighbor. Vicente's children charged Claudio a mere $1.00 per acre.
In 1918, the Salazars left their land for good. They traveled to Mexico, living in La Palma and La Solizao until their return to Texas in 1920. Having sold their remaining land, they now lived between the towns of Lyford and Sebastian. Life was quite different upon their return. For the first time in their lives, the extended family was living apart from one another. It was an extremely difficult adjustment, for the generations had been born and raised together on the El Toro. Money was now scarce and the family members had to work harder than ever to make ends meet.
Time passed and the families did their best learning to adjust to their new lives. Esteban Salazar, grandson of Vicente, recalled that period of his life. His parents, Juan and Bernardina Sosa Salazar, had settled in the little town of La Sara. However, by 1932, both had passed away. Esteban worked hard and was able to purchase enough cattle that he was financially comfortable. He was also courting Eva de la Garza and they planned to marry. At about this time, according to Esteban, Eva became quite ill. Her physician, Dr. White of Raymondville, was unable to diagnose the ailment and Eva remained very sick. There were several young ladies who were quite jealous that Eva and Esteban were to be married. Esteban believed that they used witchcraft, casting a spell to cause Eva's illness. His attempts to ward off this spell led him to lose almost all that he owned.
Eva eventually recovered and they were married in 1937. As the family grew to include ten children, Esteban worked hard in the cotton fields. His children recall that he could pick on-hundred pounds of cotton in a day, which was somewhat of a record. No matter how hard he worked, though, Esteban was never able to recoup the financial stability he had once possessed. However, being poor in one aspect didn't necessarily mean being poor in all. Esteban's family was extremely close knit and united. In his heart, this spirit of family was far more precious than money could ever be.
I met Esteban in April 1999 at his home in La Sara. At age ninety-seven, he was the last surviving Salazar of his generation. The front of his beige stone house was hidden by trees and shrubs. A stone walkway led around to the back porch where several cats were lazily sunning themselves. Entering through the patio door, I found a neatly kept home. Esteban was sitting in a chair in his bedroom, waiting to talk. A tall man, his dark black hair and eyebrows belied his years. He heard each question without difficulty and answered in a quiet, clear voice. I watched his face as he spoke, as he decscribed his grandfather, Vicente, as being a short man, while his grandmother, Francisca, was tall. This was the only person on the face of the earth, that I was aware of, who had any knowledge, albeit vague, about Vicente and Francisca! I was filled with such awe and respect for this man who had followed in the history of the Salazar family, living quietly with honesty, honor and dignity.
If he could speak one-hundred years from now, what would be Esteban's words for the young people of the family? I asked him this question and he answered without hesitation that family comes first; it is the most important element in life. He said that life is much harder now for young people because there are so many tempatations compared to when he was young. He remembered life as being kinder and gentler; a time where people helped one another, regardless of whether they were rich or poor. He also stressed the importance of having a good spouse, which he had obviously been blessed with. Eva de la Garza had married Esteban some sixty years before. She had borne ten children, all but one delivered by midwife, Carolina Moya. As did all the women of her time, Eva had worked hard on a daily basis, providing the necessities and services that a large household demanded.
Eva met me on that April afternoon with a smile and a welcoming hug. She was a tiny wisp of a person, wearing a dark jumper and a white blouse, her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a knot. She invited me to look about her home. Shelves held knick-knacks and other small gifts from children and grandchildren. Photographs of these same children and grandchildren lined walls and shelves, each frame holding images of the ones that Eva held dear in her heart. Her daughter, Diana, told me that Eva fed every stray cat that came near. She also said that during the hot summer months, she had seen Eva with a water hose, running water into the holes dug by toads, so that they wouldn't be thirsty in the Texas heat. I hold great admiration for Eva, for her small acts of love are the things greatness is made of.
Esteban Salazar died March 13, 2001, just a few months before his on-hundredth birthday. His voice sitll clear on the day before his death, he asked his family to always pray and to stay together, taking care of their mother and each other. Esteban then paryed that his physical pain would end. Shortly thereafter, he passed away peacefully in his sleep. Roughly three-hundred friends and family members attended the funeral. Young and old alike paid their respects to the memory of a man who had experienced life on the frontera as a child, probably never dreaming that his life would be remembered so lovingly by so very many. Lost with his passing are the last firsthand memories of generations past who were pioneers in their own right. Esteban lived by the values that he esteemed dear, his simple and honest life leaving an indelible imprint on the generations to follow.
Sadly, I have found very little information about the lives of Marcela Salazar and Guadalupe Sosa. Marcela is remembered as having a dark complexion and being a quiet and reserved person. I have been told a story of Marcela living alone in an isolated area with her children while Guadalupe was away. During this time, Marcela was attacked and bitten by a wild coyote. The animal was supposedly rabid, but there is nothing to substantiate the claim. Marcela was said to have been extremely ill, but did eventually recover. It is quite unlikely that she had rabies, becaue the condition was not one from which a person recovered at that time. Family members old enough to remember hearing such a story cannot substantiate it. It is quite possible that Marcela's wound became infected, thus causing her illness.
The only details recalled about Guadalupe were that he was fair skinned and died as a result of probable cancer of the mouth. He was under the care of a physician jokingly known as "Dr. Tongue", who prescribed the same oral medication for all aptients, regardless of their illness. Fortunately, far more memories exist about the life of their daughter, Amalia. Here begin the next generation....
Amalia Sosa was born January 11, 1902 on the Rancho El Toro. She was a spunky child who, by her own admission enjoyed playing tricks to get out of doing household chores. On May 2, 1919, she was married to Eugenio Perez in Matamoros, Mexico. Eugenio and Amalia were parents to five children. They were Elia, who died at a young age, Santos, born 1924, Elida, born 1926, Ramon and Juan.
Eugenio's father, Cesario Perez, operated a general store and meat market in La Feria. After his parent's deaths, Eugenio continued to operate the businesses for a time. He and Amalia moved their family into Cesario's home, located in the same building as the store. It is said that Cesario's spirit still lived within the house. Amalia and Eugenio's son, Santos, recalled an experience he had as a small boy.
He remembered a night when he awoke to see Cesario standing before him with his arms outstretched, as if to embrace him. Just a child, Santos called out in fear and Cesario disappeared. Many family members stated that unexplained sounds occurred in the house in the years following Cesario's death. Perhaps the strangest thing of all was the fact that the outdoor water pump was often heard to be operating by itself. The house was eventually sold, with the new owners moving it from the property. They did so, as the story goes, in an attempt to leave behind the spirit of Cesario.
Amalia operated two restaurants in Raymondville from the late 1950"s until the mid 1960's, "El Rancho Grande" and "The Port Cafe". Her reputation for delicious tamales was still remembered in 2002, and many Raymondville citizens recalled one of Amalia's brothers delivering tamales about the town. Everyone seemed to have fond memories of the restaurants.
Amalia and Eugenio eventually moved to Texas City, Texas, where their daughter Elida and husband, Gustavo, had settled. Amalia, however, traveled frequently to the valley. Eugenio died in 1973 and Amalia lived the rest of her live with different family members in Texas City.
She was a courageous woman who seemed to have no fears. In a marriage that was not always easy, she consistently worked to provide for her children. When they grew up and married, she helped in the care of her grandchildren. Whenever there was a problem, large or small, within her family, Amalia was the person that was called to solve it.
I was told of a story that, to me, exemplifies the pluckiness that Amalia possessed. Her young grandaughter, Gloria, had a pet chicken. This particular chicken lived in the house and was quite tame. One day, Gloria's mother, Virginia, was sitting in a rocking chair and accidentally rocked over the chicken. Blood was everywhere from a gaping hole in the chicken's body as it lay writhing on the floor. The chicken was screaming loudly. At the sight of her beloved pet, Gloria too, began screaming loudly. Upset at the fact that she had injured the chicken, and at the sight of the blood, Virginia added her screams to that of the chicken and Gloria. She hurried next door to get Amalia. When Amalia arrived, she assessed the situation. Examining the chicken, she told Virginia to find aneedle and thread. She sat down and calmly sutured the chicken's wound as it fought to escape. Unbelievably, the chicken survived and lived a long and happy life.
This little story gave me so much insight as to Amalia's personality and the character with which she approached life. She walked into a chaotic situation and maintained calmness. Instead of putting the poor chicken out of its misery, she opted to try and save it. When this story was being related to me, everyone in the room was grimacing at the thought of suturing an injured chicken. Amalia's gutsiness, however, enabled her to handle the task as though it was nothing. It seems she approached most all the hurdles of life with this same character.
Amalia was also a midwife, delivering countless babies to mothers in the valley. She was an excellent seamstress, sewing countless dresses for her little granddaughters. Her reputation for being an excellent cook preceded her, not only in relation to her restaurant, but with her family. She was said to make the best tamales of anyone arund and continued into her later years, teaching her skills to her granddaughters.
I am fortunate to have my own memories of Amalia, who died nine years after I married. She spoke no English and I spoke only the tiniest bit of Spanish, but we were always able to communicate. She was always happy to see me, greeting me with a big smile and open arms. "Mija!" she would exclaim, as she hugged me. I always felt loved. In the late 1980's Amalia lived for a time with her grandson Hector and his wife, Missie. As Missie and I spent a lot of time together, I was able to also spend quite a bit of time with Amalia. There were no grand events during that time, but I have wonderful memories of the time spent.
In the last years prior to her death, Amalia had many health problems. She was in and out of hospitals and nursing homes. I remember many visits to her in these facilities. I believe that even in those difficult times, Amalia was happy in just seeing her family. Near the end of her life, Amalia's leg was amputated. After that, it seemed that she lost her will to live. In September 1988, we were forced to evacuate our home due to a hurricane. On the 15th, we were staying at a hotel located in Lufkin when we received the call that Amalia had died during the midst of the storm. Her funeral was held on September 20th, my 30th birthday. Now, nearly fourteen years after her death, she is still remembered with love by all her family.
In 1941, at the age of seventeen, Amalia and Eugenio's oldest son, Santos, joined the Civilian Conservation Corps. This program was created by President Franklin Delanore Roosevelt in 1933. It was the time of the Great Depression when at least 13,600,000 Americans were jobless. The CCC, established within existing governmental departments, served unemployed, unmarried young men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. Approximately five-hundred-thousand young men enrolled. The enrollees were provided with room, board, clothing and tools. They were given the opportunity to further their educations while also learning new work skills. The young men worked forty hours weekly at various projects. For this work, they earned $30.00 monthly. They were allotted $5.00 for personal use, with the remaining $25.00 being sent directly to their families.
At a difficult time in American history, the CCC provided a great opportunity for the young men who, in turn provided a great service to this country. Among the accomplishments of the CCC around the country was the construction of 46,854 bridges, 27,191 miles of fences, 8,065 wells and pump houses, and 3,116 lookout towers in parks and historical sites. In addition, eight-hundred state parks were created, along with 4,622 fish rearing ponds. Five thousand miles of water supply lines were laid around the nation, 3,980 historical structures were restored, 3,462 beaches were improved, 1,865 drinking fountains were installed and three billion trees were planted.
Santos was assigned to work in Rodeo, New Mexico, and participated in the construction of bridges during his six month enrollment. In March, 1943, Santos was drafted by the U.S. Army to serve in World War II, receiving basic training in Texas, California, and Massachusetts. Just as he was preparing to be sent overseas, the invasion of Normandy occurred. All soldiers at the Massachusetts training camp were given one week of furlough. Santos wired his mother, requesting money to pay for a bus ticket to La Feria. Unable to receive the funds in time, Santos decided to hitchhike, making the journey with a fellow soldier. Given tht they were in uniform, they had no difficulty finding rides along the highways. In addition, many drivers also insisted upon giving each of them a few dollars. One extremely dark night, Santos and his companion decided to rest along the roadside before continuing their trip. It was difficult to see any distance, so instead of seeking shelter, they simply slept in what appeared to be a field near the roadway. They were quite surprised when they awoke the following morning to find that they had spent the night in a cemetery! The trip took the better part of Santos' week of furlough, and after a short stay in La Feria, he returned by bus to Massachusetts. Shortly thereafter, he began his service in Europe. Arriving in Liverpoos, England, Santos was deployed to Germany, where he served as a "cannoneer" with the 124th Anticraft Gun Battalion. He also served in Belgium, France and Austria. Along with thousands of other young men, Santos was witness to scenes so horrific that we an only imagine. As is also the case with many veterans, he never shared much information pertaining to his experiences. One of his duties was to man the gun mounted atop the Army tanks. He participated in ground combat against the Germans, returning home with both a handgun and a rifle, which he had confiscated from a German soldier. Santos also saw the horrors of a concentration camp. He was assigned to ride in a jeep, providing armed protection for a general who was traveling to a camp. The unit had custody of many German soldiers, some high ranking, who had been captured and were now prisoners of war. No Jewish survivors remained at this camp when the Americans arrived, post liberation.
They found only bodies. Many of the bodies were hanging from wall shackles and had been there for so long that they were only skeletons. As the Americans surveyed the terrible scene, the General became incensed. He ordered the German prisoners into the buildings of the camp, telling them to witness firsthand the atrocities committed by the armies of their country. Many of the soldiers were reluctant, which angered the General even more. He ordered Santos, still armed and in the jeep, to shoot any German prisoner who refused to obey the order. Only under this threat, did the Germans comply. Santos recalled that upon leaving the camp, many of the Germans were either in tears or vomiting.
A more pleasant memory, taking place in Belgium, was fondly remembered by Santos. He and a few other soldiers were traveling by foot to rejoin the remainder of their unit. They were in an unpopulated area consisting of only country roads surrounded by fields, when they came upon a cow. She was lying on the side of the road, attempting to give birth, but was having great difficulty. Not knowing what to do, the men simply watched helplessly as the cow's dilemma grew worse. Santos sprang into action, saving the lives of both mother and baby by turning the unborn calf and literally pulling it into the world. The youn soldier rejoined his unit with a memory of life anew amidst the seemingly endless scenes of war and death. Awarded the American Theater Campaign Medal, the Eame Campaign Medal with four bronze stars, and the Victory Medal, PFC Santos Perez was honorably discharged in January 1946.
Within a few weeks, he became husband to Virginia Hernandez, marrying in a civil ceremony on February 6th. By the end of the year, he was father to his first child. The family continued to grow, with eight additional children being born by mid 1959. One of these children, born in 1956, died shortly after birth, as did another born in 1965. In the early 1950's Santos and Virginia repeated their marriage vows according to the rites of the Catholic church.
Santos took an active role in helping with the care of the children during their early years. While Virginia was primary caregiver during the day, it was Santos who assumed the responsibility in the evenings after returning home from his job. He was extremely particular as to their care, comfort and safety. On land that had been home to at least two previous Perez generations, Santos built a house for his wife and children. Over the years, he added rooms to the house to accommodate his increasing family. He was a sort of "jack of all trades", who could accomplish nearly any task pertaining to construction, electrical or plumbing work. During these years, Santos and Virginia also traveled across the country, obtaining seasonal employment picking various crops. The children accompanied them and, even through difficult times, the family always remained together.
In 1947, Santos' sister, Elida, moved to Texas City, Texas with her husband, Gustavo Perez. He was seeking a better job than the slim choices offered in the Rio Grande Valley. In Texas City, Gustavo was hired by Monsanto and was an employee at the refinery at the time of The Texas City Disaster. Close to six-hundred people lost their lives when the Grand Camp, a ship docked nearby, exploded. Fortunately, Gustavo was not injured.
By the end of 1963, Santos and Virginia also moved their family to Texas City. They lived for a short time with Elida and Gustvo, before moving to an apartment and then purchasing their own home. They also kept their home in La Feria, returning frequently to visit family and friends. Eventually, that house was sold and home for the family was permanently established in Texas City.
Santos found employment with a local nursery, and over the years, gained great knowledge pertaining to plants, trees, and all things green. He enjoyed the simple pleasures of life and as he grew older, preferred to stay close to home. He died on August 22, 2001.
Virginia still lives in the house they shared since 1964. Their children are grown, as are the majority of their twenty-one grandchildren. The great-grandchildren, now twenty-six in number, play in the same yard and climb the same trees as did their parents and grandparents. The little house has seen many events, both joyful and tragic, over the past nearly forty years, and will always remain as home.

Tejano Roots