By Amanda Roberson
When Raymond Muñiz came home to Corpus Christi, Texas, after serving his country in World War II, he expected to see greater equality for Mexican Americans: more Latinos in city positions such as mayor, for example.
Unfortunately, Muñiz says he didn’t find this to be the case: Anglos were still in charge and Mexican Americans were virtually powerless.
By Erin Peterson
Minorities living in Texas owe Joe Bernal a favor. As a first-term State Representative from San Antonio’s West Side during the 1960s, Bernal’s first bill aimed to wipe discrimination laws off the books.
At a time of heated political debate regarding racial tensions wrapped around the country, he not only actively sought out change, but ushered in that change.
By Caleb Miller
As he picked crops in Texas during his youth, Jeronimo Dominguez never imagined that one day he'd be taking shelter in a German foxhole while his comrades died around him.
Dominguez, who was born in March 1913 in Medina County, about 40 miles southwest of San Antonio, only had an eighth-grade missionary school education. Before the war, he had traveled as far as North Dakota, to pick beets for $100, quite a haul in those days. That all changed, however, when he joined the Army.
By Janet Herrgesell
For Eriberto Rodriguez, the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor provided ample motivation to fight in World War II.
Rodriguez was a teenager on Dec. 7, 1941 when he heard about the bombing.
By Layron Livingston
Before entering World War II, Richard M. Bustos, Sr. endured a different kind of battle. As an adolescent in rural southeastern Texas, he encountered racial segregation and discrimination daily.
“On signs, you’d see ‘No Mexicans’ and ‘No Blacks.’ … You couldn’t drink water from the fountains. … At restaurants, you had to go to the kitchen to get something to eat,” Bustos said.
In many ways, the postwar years of Felipe L. Cantú represent a quintessential profile of a World War II veteran, quietly resuming his life, but with a modest hesitancy to discuss combat experiences or express his feelings. In many other ways, however, Cantú’s story is atypical: a journalist who wrote vividly of the war and an artist whose works include scenes from the front lines.
Willie Murillo was the third of five brothers who served in World War II.
Older brother David joined the Air Force; Gonzalo joined the Army; Mike and Mario, the two younger brothers, served in the Navy and Merchant Marines, respectively.
Before the brothers left for service, their father took them aside and said, “I hope you never find yourselves on the front line; but if you do, always remember one thing: The enemy fires the shots, God is the one who separates them.
By Yazmin Lazcano
As a young girl, Bernarda Quintana and her brothers and sister carried heavy buckets of water to their father, who mixed straw and adobe to create their home in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. When Quintana was 12, her father was shot to death after publicly opposing the 1940 presidential winner. Quintana quit school to help support her family, first by doing odd jobs, then as a seamstress making uniforms for soldiers.
By Cheryl Smith Kemp
"I have a letter from my Secretary of War that's saying that I'm a hero," said World War II veteran Frank Segura of an Oct. 31, 1945, statement about him by then-Secretary of War Robert P. Patterson.
"I think my buddies that didn't come back are my heroes," Segura added, noting that he doesn't consider himself special.
One Valentine's Day, Mike Vasquez knocked on the door to the Cooremans' house with three boxes of chocolates for the daughters still living at home. Fourteen-year-old Wilhelmina, the youngest, answered the door. She was so shocked to discover the biggest box was for her she slammed the door and left Mike outside until her mother reminded her of her manners. Though Wilhelmina was too young for a relationship, the two kept in contact.
