LETTER to my Dad's Neighbor's

Luis Franco, The Father… Born July 5th 1931... Died July 13th 2020

Luis Franco, The Son…

That’s how we referred to ourselves in the Morgan Hill Photography club.

My Dad was born in Mexico City on July 5th, 1931. He came from a family of

8 siblings- 6 sisters and a brother. He passed away on July 13th from a head

injury he sustained from a fall caused by his heart giving out. He is survived by

his wife Esther, sons Luis and Fred, Daughter-in-laws Julie and Sheri,

grandchildren Jennifer, Chris, Lauren and Jeff, Grandson/daughter-in-laws

Jamie, Isaias and Chase, and Great Grandchildren Leila, Chris, Zoey, Noah,

Joaquin and Wyatt.

Dad graduated High School and was going to a Technical School part time.

When he was 22 years old, he decided to leave his home and came to this

country to work for my great uncle in his restaurant in San Jose, CA. El Charro

was located on First Street just before downtown heading north. Very popular

place a long time ago.

After about a year of working in the restaurant, he chose to serve in the

military. He enlisted in the US Army. After serving a year in the Army, he was

granted a months leave and he went home to Mexico City. This is when he

married my mother. I’m guessing he wrote some pretty steamy letters since they

never really dated. After getting married, he returned to the Army and finished

his two year term. In his second year in the service, he became a citizen and

managed to convince my mother, whom he had left behind to live with his

mother, to come to the US. So glad she did! That’s why I was born in San Jose

Hospital.

After leaving the Army and getting my mom to the US, he went to work for IBM

in January of 1957. I was born the same year on the 14th of December and my

brother a year after that on the 13th of December.

My Dad’s career in IBM was a long one. He started in the Mail Room and then

was promoted to work in the Order Department. His responsibilities were to work

with the engineers to track and document all changes to the large computer

systems before they shipped to customers. Yes, this was all manually done up to

the last 5 years of his career when it all became automated. Back then, IBM did

not have layoffs. Instead, he was retrained to use CAD systems to track changes

and improvements in building blueprints for all services (electrical, plumbing, etc.)

He retired at the age of 62 after serving 36 years in IBM.

My parents moved to Gilroy in 1992 to be closer to their granddaughters and

have been your neighbors ever since. My daughters had the great opportunity to

have my parents in their life as they grew. They are now “young” women and

mom’s. Yes! I’m a grandpa!

One of my Dad’s passions was Fútbol..(soccer). He played in IBM leagues,

pick-up games at lunch, and with anyone that was interested. I remember going

to watch games at Spartan stadium before soccer was popular in the 60’s. He

broke his collarbone, knee and shattered his ankle playing the sport. After he

broke his knee, my mom threatened to break his neck if he played again. So of

course my Dad hid his gym clothes in the bushes at work so he could still play at

lunch time. And of course my mom knew, so she told him to wash his clothes.

He did finally realize he should stop playing around the age of 72. Glad my

sports passion is Golf! I can play until I can’t swing a club.

Since my Dad had to give up Fútbol, he took up Tai Chi and practiced daily.

He also took classes at the senior center twice a week. Walking was one of his

other daily activities. We all tried to get Mom to walk with him, but no luck. That

didn’t stop him. He was happy to walk alone. Later my mom did restrict him to

only walking around the block since she was worried he would get hurt and be

too far to get help. But that was ok with my Dad. He just did laps.

Dad was alway trying to learn new things from books. How his body worked or

didn’t. Books on Buddhism inspired him. He loved the Aztec and Indian history

and culture. It was pretty ingrained in my brother and me. Any time they asked

in grammar school if there were any Native Americans in class, we’d raise our

hand and say yes. Aztec. Dad tried to learn the guitar. His neighbor Rick helped

him. You must have had a lot of patience Rick! As my Dad aged, new

technology was hard for him to grasp. But he never stopped trying.

My dad also loved to write poems that had deep meaning. I believe it was a

way of expressing his true emotions that sometimes were difficult to say. I got

married young (19) while I had just started college. He didn’t approve. He

thought I was going to fail. But he forgot he raised me well. I worked hard and

never gave up. Still married like the Davis’s down the street! So he wrote me a

poem confirming I was wise and had made the right decision. Here’s a poem he

wrote for my mother on their 42nd wedding anniversary.

“Lombricita, (little worm)

Everyday I think of you as a

flower in the garden

time to grow

Sun rays cover you

Time still, reveals the beauty

in you

Happiness for me

Every day I live with you

Roses, lilies, violets,

beautiful as you

Happy Anniversary #42

Tu Lombriez Negra (your black worm)”

One of his other passions was art. He went to City College and received an

AA degree in Art. Dad struggled to put what he felt and saw on canvas. Ok, he

wasn’t a very good painter or sketcher. However, he discovered photography!

And wow! He did amazing things with the tool. It’s pretty easy to learn the

technical aspects of photography. It’s another thing to know how to compose a

photo. You have to have imagination. He belonged to a few camera clubs where

he competed and won prizes. In his later years, he went from a film SLR to a

point and shoot digital camera. Now it took me years to convince him to go

digital. Later we found out about Morgan Hill Photography Club and we joined

eleven years ago! We went once a month. He loved Image Share and talking

with everyone in the club. Glad I had that special time with him.

Of course you all know him from his photographs of you, your house, your

kids, or flowers on your property. That was his subject for his canvas. He loved

talking to you and sharing his thoughts on life.

He saw life in a very different way than most. He was raised Catholic and he

raised my brother and me in that faith as well. When I was in eighth grade I

shared with my parents that I was not a believer. I thought I was going to get in

trouble. Instead, my Dad said ok and we never went back to church. He later

studied and joined the Rosicrucian Order for several years. He believed that we

were all connected through the atoms in our cells and that the universe that we

see is also the universe inside of us. He felt a strong connection to nature and I

think that’s why he loved taking pictures of it.

I thank you all for taking the time to listen to my Dad when he spoke his truths

with you. He was an amazing role model and Dad. He survived and succeeded

in a time when a man of color was not accepted and maybe still isn’t. Yes, he

was different, but not because of his color. He was different because he

challenged what we thought about life, it’s purpose and how we all fit in it. He

taught me that “different” is what makes us strong. He taught me to always do

my best no matter what job I was tasked to do. Never give up. From cutting the

grass, washing dishes, learning at school, building things with my hands or

inventing things at IBM as I later did.

You will be missed Dad, but never forgotten. And always Loved.

Your Son,

Luis