I arrived in Michigan It was a foggy summer afternoon when I arrived in Michigan fifty-two years ago. The year was 1968. I had an uneventful four-hour flight from Guadalajara, Mexico to Chicago. The 45-minute trip from Chicago to Flint was on an old prop engine commuter airplane. My brother in-law Robert Gatrell, my sister Connie and my niece Ana Lourdes picked me up from the airport, I had been admitted to the US as a foreign student. I was a high school drop-out in Mexico. I did not know what to expect regarding high school requirements to obtain a diploma in the US, but I had the most fervent desire to graduate. My English vocabulary was rudimentary at best; my slang vocabulary was non-existent. I had previously met Bob some years back when he married my sister. I knew little about Bob. He was previously married, and he worked as a general foreman. Bob’s kids from the previous marriage were all adults, except for Mark, a sixteen-year-old who was also a member of Bob’s fa...
This blog pertains to my assimilation as an immigrant to the US. It also pertains to the family roots of Spanish families who settled in southwestern Mexico in the late thirteen century. Este blog contiene las raices de varias familias que se establecieron en la parte suroeste de Mejico, en el pasado. Este blog tambien contiene pensamientos que me ocurren acerca de mi experiencia como imigrante a los Estados Unidos de Norteamerica