>> I have one thing on my dad.
Would you like to hear that?
Just a brief piece.
Now this is a true irony because my father lived his life in Spanish, mostly.
He was an American citizen but he lived because of the proximity to the border and he was born
on the north [inaudible], as we have been for years.
But --
-- Tomás is responsible for this.
He was editing the second number of a review now called -
The review is now called The Americans Review and it's 14, 15 years old.
At that time, it was called La revista Chicanorriqueña and it was based at Bloomington
and then at Gary, the Indiana University [inaudible] after it started at Bloomington.
And Tomás needed two pages and it had to be in English.
And at that time, I was writing [inaudible] Spanish.
Tomás was a great salesman.
I kept saying you know and he kept saying double space, 20 bond paper
and electric typewriter, double space and I need it by Wednesday.
And I kept saying no, no, no, no.
Anyway, it's called E Pluribus Vitae.
It means out of many lives.
At what time, in his youth, in years before I was born, my father was an active revolutionary?
He gave of himself, of his time and much of his own personally hard earned money
to support the Mexican Revolution, as well as to support emigrates of all stations
who found themselves in the United States.
As I mentioned earlier, I didn't know him.
In fact, I didn't know my father until I was four years old,
when he finally came home to stay.
Now, many years later, a third of a century since his death,
I imagine that it must have been a frustrating trying condition for him to settle down
or to stay put as an ordinary townsend.
I do know now that although he owned our home and a few lots in and around Mercedes,
his earnings and savings went out to other revolutionaries whom he'd considered
less fortunate.
Because of this and other acts, we accepted the fact that we had to do without some things.
I forget now what they were.
But surely they must have been important then.
All of the preceding is but a bare mention of the many lives led by my father,
Manuel Hinojosa, who in his 65 years also worked as a peon, as a Gandy dancer,
as a shepherd in Wyoming, as a farmer in the Gulf Coastal [inaudible] and as a gambler.
In another set of lives, he also owned a dairy farm and three dry cleaning shops.
He must certainly have had other dealings of which I personally did not know about.
This information, then, was gleaned for the most part subconsciously as I sat playing
in the living room floor when people of all sorts would come to call on him and I learned
of his many lives through others and never from him.
I remember playing on our side porch one afternoon,
when our car suddenly appeared as if by magic.
I must have stood on the running board, there being no other way for me to see inside the car.
And what I saw was a man who had borrowed my father's car
to make a business trip or something.
And as I stood there on the running board, I saw the man was bleeding.
Again, as if by magic, people appeared and the man was taken inside our home
and directly to my father's bedroom.
The man recovered and lived with us during his convalecence.
In gratitude, he gave me a calf.
Later, the man had a falling-out with my father.
My father never spoke harshly of the man, although the man's name would come
up in conversation from time to time.
A year before my father died, the man came out to our house
and asked my oldest brother for permission to see my father.
The man removed his hat, walked over to my father's bed and offered his hand.
We were all standing there, watching a small solemn event in the life of the man.
My father was also a policeman and in by virtue of this authority in a small valley town,
he also served as advisor and counselor to whomever needed help and advice.
He gave unstintingly of himself to others and although we didn't know it at the time,
he was showing us still another one of his many lives.
Through reflection and induction and by means of countless conversations among ourselves,
the children, we also found out that all of his lives were made possible by our mother.
Our mother didn't stand in his way.
A strong, resolute woman, my mother inculcated the love and the respect for him,
which are still very much a part of our own lives, her strength then went hand in hand
with my father's manner of living.
I too have lived many lives although by comparison, they pale and fade away.
My lives and the idea of living several lives, however,
were made possible in great part by his example.
All of this came to mind at a party I attended years ago.
And again, recently at another party.
Everyone talked of what they had done at one time or another.
I confess that I too fell into that trap.
It was seldom that anyone there talked about was happening now and that,
I discovered, again, was the main difference.
My father always talked of what was happening now, what would happen in the future.
I believe that I've maintained the same outlook as he did.
Now, as look ahead to my life, I find that I had a happy childhood and for this I'm grateful,
but more so for his love of life and for the many lives he left me.
Thank you very much.