Danny Cross called me one day and asked if I could go with him to see some of the fountains he had been looking at.
“We already have a fountain-maker,” I said to him.
“It won’t hurt to have a few alternatives, come with me, and let’s at least know we made the effort.”
I should have declined, called in sick or something. I didn’t. We drove to one of those places by the side of the road where they sell all kinds of garden decoration trinkets. They had a good selection of fountains that you could buy in pieces and put together in any configuration you wanted, even going as high as you wanted.
I want to forget what happened next. It is very embarrassing. He talked me into the convenience of buying a pre-made fountain that could be installed by the resident’s volunteer rather than waiting for months for the completion of a custom made fountain by an artisan that we knew nothing about. The artisan was Mexican. Danny Cross was not. I failed the Barrio again. I gave in. Danny Cross was a board member, intelligent, educated, eloquent, a great supporter of all that we had been doing, and I felt a little guilty for not giving him some support for the type of design not used that he had favored for the park, after all, he had lost his version of the plan concept. Anyone who really knew what was going on underneath the surface would call me ugly names for giving in and I would not blame them. I deserve plenty of insults for this one.
However, good things can come out of the ashes of defeat. Someone proposed one of the most brilliant ideas ever. I don’t know who, but the most influential people are often not known, at least not by me. Besides, I found out later, for reasons I will not go into here, that the artisan would not have been free to finish the fountain had he undertaken the job.
“Why don’t we buy white tiles and give them to the school across the street. We will have the children paint and sign them. Then they will glaze them and glue them to the fountain edge.”
Brilliant! And this idea may not have worked in the other fountain design. A teacher from the school knew all about glazing techniques and types of paint for tiles. We used ARCO’s money for this project and others pitched in too. There was nothing green about the idea, but what you don’t tell, sometimes won’t hurt. We asked the kids to use green color tiles. They would have approved anyway and they did. The kids were part of history in the making. Their art and names in their Barrio Park would show their grandchildren in years to come of their participation. Family, Pride, and Hands. Whoever came up with the tile idea deserves a lot of credit. Maybe it was group thinking. I only wish I had noticed and remembered who it was, so I can pay them the deserved credit.
Our fountain now is our fountain. The first working day came up and the site was crowded with people from all over. Glen Owens from ARCO made his appearance in the Barrio in an impeccable three-piece tailored suit. You could not laugh because he was the epitome of what he represented. It was not only his clothes, but also his person, behavior, and posture. He represented quality. That man spent three days with us. He never took his coat off. He never broke a pebble of sweat. What an impressive personality! Always respectful and positive.
I had the impression that Mr. Owens was really happy to be there. Why was a Vice President, the President of Public Relations of a worldwide multi-million-dollar corporation spending time in the Barrio surrounded by sweaty, happy, loud-mouthed people of foreign culture to him? A commitment which was pennies to them, what was it to them to see trees with thorns planted in a distant desert soil, surrounded by adobe houses that were collapsing due to rainfalls, and a central fountain with children’s art? If it wasn’t for it been written here, no one would know about what this corporation did, but they did it anyway and to the people that it made a difference to, it made a big difference. For those in the Barrio, these pennies had the benevolent potential to grow into a beautiful and lovable Barrio Park built with tender loving care, a trickle up experience, which it did. The park is today called the Rosendo Perez Park in memory of an exceptional and honest human.
I looked at Glen Owens and then at Sr. Peréz, and I saw two of the same. One other exceptional person That I could compare, and with whom I would soon interact daily with in the future rehab crew was Cachano. Quality can be found all around us. What ARCO’s faith in humanity did to help stabilize the existence and transformation of a Barrio, full of residents who otherwise had little hope and little support to get their lives back on track, was a significant step which really resurrected trust in human nature. Was it ARCO or Glen Owens? Who knows? I can only thank both for what they did. They never asked for gratitude nor personal or corporate compensation.
Glen came again to Tucson for the completion celebration ceremony. I am only human, and I can be influenced by the news, but when I read about the ugly capitalistic exploitation of the oil companies, true as in some cases that may be, it slides off my shoulders only bringing to my eyes the visuals of the unique El Parquesito del Tiradito. We are easily persuaded by others who, out of envy or evil intent, use convincing emotional negativity to present only one side of human nature or one side of a political ideology to obscure the full picture. In the future, I will dedicate a big part of my life to looking for positive aspects in man while trying to correct the negative with positive replacements. To me, Glen’s contribution has always been an inspirational example of humanity at its best, and he was not alone.
Details add up. Among the many people who were pillars of the Barrio, and always present, a few stand out in my mind because of their unbending commitment and good example. One was Panchita, a hard-working lady of overflowing benevolence. The other was Isabel, the friend of Charlene, who represented the future and the hope of the Barrio. If her future could only be set free. She was young, eager, and inquisitive, in the pure way of the young. Her life was taking shape through her experiences and we had to be conscious of placing in front of her the best and brightest. Bertha Santa Cruz was also indisputably one of the pillars of the Barrio, as was Carmen Valenzuela. Señor Peréz and his family and Bobby Galvez, a musical man with strong convictions were also among the pillars, as were Cachano and Tiny, and countless others.
I had learned my lesson and tried to stay out of the way. It was amazing what so many people were able to accomplish in two weekends. Different from the swimming pool effort, this one was at a level where everyone could participate. Drip irrigation. Holes were dug with shovels and plants were planted (the real ones, not the people representing them) fertilizers were added. The fountain was put in place by twenty helpers. Those were the days!