Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Son of a farmer - Julio Guerrero - The Nicaragua Years

My father has been telling me stories about his life all of my life. Everything from when he was a kid, to when he was head of security for a government agency. Today I grabbed my pad and sat down with him for a rundown of his best stories.


Julio Cesar Guerrero Chavez was born to Jesus Guerrero Carbajal and Carmela Chavez Hernandez on August 10th 1938. He was born at home in a town named Ticomo, which is a suburb of Managua, Nicaragua. Although he was born on August 10th his birth certificate states he was born on September 15th 1938. The discrepancy on his official papers is due to when he was registered, back in those days (especially since he was born at home) you had a month to register your child with the city. After one month you would have to pay a fine. To avoid the penalty people would change the date.

He was next to last of his 12 siblings. There were only 10 living, because 2 of them died very young, before he was born. The Guerrero last name in Nicaragua originated in Leon. That is where my grandparents lived prior to moving to the outskirts of Managua. Leon is in the Northwest of Nicaragua, and is the second largest city in the country. There are also extensions of the last name found in Chontales and Granada.

My Grandfather Jesus Guerrero was a farmer. The family had two large farms, and also rented parcels for a variety of crops. They made a living growing pineapples and tomatos. He also grew plantains, avocados, yucca, bananas, oranges and lemons mostly for consumption. On the land he rented he would grow corn, wheat and even rice. My Grandmother Carmela was in charge of selling the end product. My father still remembers being very young accompanying his mother to the market. They and at least one of my uncles would make the 3 hour trip to the market every morning by bull drawn carriage. They would travel to Managua to El Mercado Oriental. El Mercado Oriental is one the major open air Markets in Managua. It is also a landmark and a must see for the adventurous tourist. There you can get everything from meat, cheese and fresh fruits and vegetables to souvenirs, cigars, and robbed.

My father was only able to attend school until the 3rd or 4th grade. He needed to work to help the family. At the age of 12 he became carpenter's apprentice. That is where he learned everything he knows about woodwork which helped him thrive later in life especially here in the U.S. If you've ever visited our home you may have seen one of many pieces of furniture that he hand crafted over the years. At about age 15 he began working in a mechanic shop. There he learned how to drive and how to fix cars. One day the shop owner asked my dad to move his Willis Jeep from the street into the garage. My father had never driven but did what he was told. He got the jeep in gear drove down to the end of the street. He then U turned. All he had to do was turn right to drive the car into the carport. He instead turned too soon and hit the corner post and knocked the whole carport down. He took what he learned there and worked in a variety of shops in the city. He even worked for a tractor and farming equipment dealer named International Harvester. For a time he even drove a taxi cab. My grandmother had sold a piece of land and used the money to buy him a cab. His cab was a British automobile made by Vauxhall. In Nicaragua, prior to 1957, all cabs were horse drawn carriages. The first commercial taxi in Managua was manufactured by Renault.

Around the same time that he began working on cars, he also took up drinking. My grandfather was also a drinker as were most of my uncles. My dad said that he drank moderately at first. When he was 19, and after his mother passed away, he began drinking heavily. He was a functioning alcoholic for the better part of 20 years. He didn't stop drinking until he joined Alcoholics Anonymous in the early 80's. He developed Diabetes and aggravated his Epilepsy due to years of alcohol abuse.

After having various occupations my father decided to become a driver or chofer. He began by driving a car for a female government worker. She worked at El Palacio Nacional (The National Palace). Which in those days was where all national business was conducted. He would pick her up to and from work everyday. He then became friends with her husband. He was a respected bacteriologist. He would run errands and drive him after his regular shift. He eventually had a falling out with the lady and quit working for them. He returned to the Palacio Nacional where he had made many friends.

He was hired as a "contraband agent". He was basically Managua's answer to Elliot Ness. He was part of a team that would travel into subdivisions looking for bootleggers and illegal liquor operations. It was mostly to stop the sale of liquor that was untaxed. They also made sure cigarettes were taxed and sold properly.

After having some run-ins with other agents for being "too honest" he was hired as a driver for a high ranking government official. He was the Director of Income for the Nicaraguan Government. My dad isn't sure what his title meant, but he does remember that this guy went to the movies everyday. My father would have to drive him. While he was in the theater my father wasn't allowed to go anywhere, with or without the car. He said that the guy would feel the tires after coming out of the movie to see if it was warm from being driven. The man he worked for happened to be the nephew of the president. The president suddenly dies, he loses his job.

The same guy offers my dad a job in his bookstore. He worked the counter and was even given the use of a motorcycle. My dad would do deliveries for the book store. While working there he went to visit his friend the Bacteriologist. He mentions to the man that he was considering applying for a job at El Banco Central de Nicaragua (The Central Bank of Nicaragua). This was the government's bank, and also the sole issuer of Nicaraguan currency the Cordoba. The president kept his money there. The Bacteriologist tells him he knows a guy and to go there immediately. He shows up, talks to the guy, fills out some paperwork and a few hours later he was hired as a driver and messenger.

He began his career at the bank driving for Dr. Jaime Incer Barquero. Jaime was a scientist. The bank would sponsor his environmental experiments. Jaime had degrees in Pharmacy, Chemistry and Biology. My father says that the bank would pay for them to go into the wild and hunt birds. The birds would be later stuffed. My father was in charge of the hunting. He earned a reputation for being handy with firearms.

You may ask why would a bank sponsor a scientist to do nature studies? Simple his brother owned the bank. Dr. Roberto Incer Barquero was the founding president of El Banco Central. Being such a high profile person it was a must that he have a security detail especially since he was recently married and starting a family. His brother recommends Julio Guerrero, his driver, the one that is good with guns.

My father's first assignment with the Incer's was to go to the hospital and pick up all the bouquets of flowers that well wishers sent to the wife after there first son was born. He quickly became the head of Incer's security detail. Not only did he know guns, but he knew every side street and short cut in and around Managua. His common sense, easy going manner, and attention to detail also helped him secure the role. Dr. Incer's security detail was soon known as the best in Managua. They never were hit while my father was at the helm. He does recall two occasions when things could have gone totally wrong.

One night they were driving the family home in a convoy formation. They travelled in armoured Land Rovers and the family was in an armoured Mercedes Benz. There was a security vehicle leading, the family's vehicle was second, and my father rode in the tail vehicle as a passenger. As they approached the home, my father notices a strange vehicle parked across the street from the house facing them. He becomes alert, because the guys working the guard booth at the entrance were ordered to never allow cars to park in front of the house, especially when the family was in transit. My father radios the booth and asks what the hell is going on. The lead vehicle and the family enter the gate and are quickly rushed into the house. My father and his driver stay in the street watching the strange vehicle. Suddenly a woman emerges from the car and walks to the guard booth. She claims that the guy in the car is drunk and being abusive. Next thing you know the man in the car pulls out a gun and points it at the lady. My father and his driver immediately exit the car and take aim at man with the gun. He politely  asks the man to drop the gun. Since the car was on an incline the guy removes the emergency brake and rolls away. He was arrested by the police before he got out of the neighborhood. It turns out that the guy was the son of a ranking official in the army, he was drunk and didn't realize whose house he had parked in front of. The funny part was that he was also a Guerrero (no relation).

Another time they were driving to the beach. As usual they were in convoy formation. Except this time they weren't on city streets. They were moving through rural towns that weren't even paved. There maneuvered through a small town call Terra Bona. This place had a bad reputation for breeding armed robbers and gun fighters. Their finest citizens would post up on the main road. They would block the road with a car and rob anyone passing through. This particular night my dad's team is making it's way through the town. My dad is in the lead vehicle. He notices the road block. Its two cars across the road. He already knows where they are. Stopping is not an option and the road is too narrow to turn around. My dad jumps out of the car with his machine gun on his shoulder. He says nothing. He walks to towards the road block. He realizes that there is just enough space between the cars for the convoy to pass. He safely directs his team through. Gets back in the car and keep going. He knew that one false move and it would have been a blood bath.

One day my father was in the open air market with Dr. Incer. He was armed as usual. A police officer noticed my fathers gun. He then tried to relinquish the gun and arrest my father. His main objective was to get Dr. Incer to his vehicle. So my father rushes him towards the area where the vehicle is waiting. The officer is just behind him. Dr. Incer gets in the car where the driver is waiting. My father immediately hands the gun to officer and gets arrested. His driver and Dr. Incer follow close behind as my dad is driven to the precinct. The officer takes my father into the building, as soon as my dad sees the lieutenant, he begins to berate the officer for arresting my father.

President Anastasio Somoza Debayle was the 73rd and 76th president of Nicaragua. To some he was a great man to others he was a ruthless dictator. The years he wasn't elected president, his sons were in power or others were elected by his choosing in a puppet regime. Dr. Incer was a close and personal friend of Somoza. They were friends before Somoza went into power and during his presidency they continued their relationship. It was even said that Somoza had asked Dr. Incer to run for president during his time in office but he kindly declined.

One of Somoza's brain child's was La Guardia Nacional (The National Guard). They were named that after American National Guardsmen were sent to Nicaragua to help train their men. La Guardia as they were know were a personal police force used to enforce the will of Somoza on the people. There are countless stories of corruption and murder. In those days you would have to be a Guardia to enter the presidents home. Meaning you had to have special credentials to pass the three levels of security. Dr. Incer would quite frequently visit Somoza to discuss official business. My father would have to be able to get to Dr. Incer in case of emergency at all times. Even when he was meeting with the president, so my father was one of the few men outside of La Guardia that had total clearance to enter the president's home.

On June 19th 1979 the reign of the Somoza's Dictatorship ended when he was overthrown my Daniel Ortega and the Sandinistas. Of course my father being the savvy man that he was, saw this coming. He remembers the early days when the Sandinistas were recruiting and raising funds for their revolution. He says that they were selling coupons for 10 cordobas. The coupons were signed by founders such as Thomas Borge and Daniel Ortega. The Sandinistas took there name from Nationalist folk hero Augusto Cesar Sandino (Who I am named after).

Leading up to the takeover the government my dad was in Costa Rica. He returned to Managua on June 21st 1979. Less then 2 month's later I was born on September 4th 1979. My father started to weigh the pros and cons of relocating and starting over. He had 6 kids and my mom had 4 with the latest addition. An ex-coworker of his, years prior, had moved to Venezuela and was trying to persuade him into going there. He eventually decided to try to come to the United States. His plan was to later bring my mom and the kids. He also thought that he would eventually return. In his mind it would take about 3 years for it to get good enough to return. Partly he was leaving because of the instability of the nation, also because he despised Communism, and lastly because communist sympathizers in the neighborhood equated his position at the bank to being a member of the overthrown government and were pointing fingers. He knew it was only a matter of time before they would come looking for him, and kill him.

On February 25th 1980 he started his fateful journey to a new life and better future for him and his family. He saved up some money and bought a ticket to Mexico City. Before the bus left Nicaraguan territory it was intercepted. A troop of Sandinista soldiers commandeered the bus and led it to a desolate dirt road. They then ordered everyone to give up their jewelry and money. Of course my dad expected something like this to occur. A few nights before he left, he asked my mom to sew a hidden zippered lining in the waste of his pants. He hid the bulk of his money there. He kept a couple of Mexican Pesos in his wallet for would be robbers. After they took what they wanted, the soldiers blew the tire and left in their jeep. They managed to get the tire fixed and continue on with their journey. Some got off in Honduras. The rest made it to Mexico. The plan was for the entire group to meet in Northern Mexico before entering the U.S. After arriving in Mexico, my dad followed part of the group to Guadalajara, Mexico where they hung out for 2 weeks before the rest of the group arrived. From Guadalajara to the Border, they traveled by freight train, sometimes inside, sometimes on top.

On March 16th 1980 they made their move. They jumped the fence into southern California. They were immediately caught and taking to the El Centro Correctional Facility. My father was given a public defender and weighed his options. The lawyer told him, if they wouldn't grant him political asylum, he would have to leave. Of course he didn't want to go back to Nicaragua, at least not at that time. The lawyer informed him, they would send him to the country of his choosing. He told me that he contemplated going to Australia. After a month, they granted him political asylum. The problem was he didn't have the thousand bucks he needed for bail. At the time he only knew 3 people in the United States. Newton, and old friend that lived in L.A. Rosita, an ex-coworker from the bookstore. The third was his charge, Dr. Roberto Incer Barquero, ex-president of El Banco Central de Nicaragua. When the government was overthrown, he had his family flown to the states and they settled in Northern Virginia. He gladly sent my dad the bail. Rosita who resided in Southern Maryland sent him $300 bucks for a Greyhound ticket. After 45 days he was released, and got on a bus to L.A. His friend Newton met him there. Newton tried his darnedest to convince my dad to stay in California. Instead he got on that bus. It took him 5 day to arrive in Washington D.C. when the station was on New York Ave.

I would not be sitting here if it were not for the decisions and sacrifices my father made 31 years ago. I will always appreciate the life that he has given us. Truth be told, it would have been cool to have grown up in Australia or California. I grew up listening to these stories over and over again, and I never grew tired of them. I will tell my daughter these and my own stories throughout her life. I just hope she understands the magnitude of how this affected my life and hers.

My grandfather Jesus "Chu" Guerrero and my father Julio Guerrero

My dad about the age of 19

My parents in the early days

My dad and his friends hunting (No the guy in the lower left hand is not Daniel Ortega)

His first trip to Mexico City with El Banco Central

My dad with his men in Guatemala

1 comment:

  1. I decided to check out this blog about your father after reading your comment on my blog! What a colorful and diverse life he has had. I see him in so many people we have met here and I never tire of hearing/reading about people's lives. We find the majority of Nicas to be warm and wonderful people who truly have the gift of hospitality. You have demonstrated this yourself by inviting the rest of us in to see a glimpse of your father's life.
    Bendiciones,
    Lynne

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