When I bought this house a wonderful old gentle man was tending its garden. For years, each Tuesday we would take a few moments to visit and over time I learned of his long life, his family and his point of view. He had been born to parents who crossed the US-Mexican border long before this act became illegal. He told me that all his parents did to legally enter the US was put a dime into a bucket. Santos shared stories of Pasadena that most history books don't record. Living in restricted housing, playing baseball with the late great Jackie Robinson when he was a kid, fighting in the war as part of the "other" soldiers. But he was not bitter at all. He reflected a positive point of view always. In the last few years Santos lost his sight and could no longer tend the garden. He had trained his crew to carry on and when he could no longer help he gave his crew the business. Santos saw the nuances in every plant in the garden. He knew when something needed iron and he recognized when a fruit tree was being strangled by a stray root. He was my friend and I will miss him. Rest in Peace, Santos.
Artfully yours, Chris