Bearing Witness was conducted by Museum CEO Francisco Guajardo, Ph. D., and Exhibits & Collections Coordinator Melissa Peña. Stories were published weekly on Mondays in The Monitor, Valley Morning Star and The Brownsville Herald.
While the museum’s Bearing Witness initiative has come to an end, unfortunately the COVID-19 pandemic has not. Lives are still being lost, and we recognize that community members still have stories to tell. The museum encourages people to write their own witness statements and reflections of their lost loved ones. These stories can still be contributed to the Margaret H. McAllen Memorial Archives where they will be safely preserved, and memories can continue to live on. If you wish to contribute your story please contact archivist Kelly Francis-Love at Kfrancis-love@mosthistory.org or filling out the form below.
Covid-19 Form
Much like the rest of the nation, Valley families are reeling having lost 3,000 local souls and counting. People who’ve succumbed to this deadly disease have left voids in their families’ lives, and in their communities. Left are their legacies, waiting to be told by their loved ones. For the Museum of South Texas History, the virus hit too close to home when one of their own, Sandra Luna, fell ill with the virus and died on July 12.
College life presented Luis with unique challenges. His siblings had since moved out, and Felix, his father, became too sick to work, leaving Luis with the responsibility as sole bread winner of the family. Throughout college, he worked 70 hours a week at the H-E-B in Elsa, carried a full college load, while hitchhiking every day to and from Pan Am. Though tempted to quit college many times, especially when his father died, Luis knew that continuing college would be the best way to honor him.
When Daría was 19, she worked as a melon picker, earning 40 cents an hour to pick cantaloupes, a wage much lower than what other laborers earned. Daría did not like that, and she did not like the fact there were no bathrooms available to women working in the fields, nor was there running water, or access to other basic laborer necessities.
On the east side of the city of Edinburg, behind Albores Courts, the small frame house where Freddy lived and died stands as a testament to his life—one of family love, motherly devotion and dedicated service.
Guadalupe “Lupita” Alanís and her husband José Luis celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on Aug. 23, while interned as COVID-19 patients at McAllen Medical Center. They could not be together, because of virus-related protocols, but José Luis asked his children to play the song “Mi Linda Esposa” to his wife to celebrate their 50-year commitment to each other.
Before they carted her off to the COVID-19 unit, Eli asked, “What are you thinking about, mother?” She responded, “I’m just worried. I’m worried about my kids.” And they exchanged their last words, “I love you.” That was the last time Eli and Graciela spoke.
“Everything my mother did in her life was about her family. She cared for us, and we cared for each other, so being sick and not having anyone to fight the sickness with, that alone could have killed her,” Veronica added. “She could’ve had a chance.”
Moments later, she was whisked away to McAllen Medical Center, where she died of COVID-19 complications on Dec. 4, at age 63. She was born in Edcouch on May 21, 1957.
After he graduated from Edinburg High School in 1989, Albert continued to farm and eventually became an agriculture specialist at the University of Texas Pan-American, now UTRGV. Through that position Albert took part in training at least one generation of new farmers in the Rio Grande Valley. After more than 20 years at UTPA and then UT Rio Grande Valley, he leaves an enduring legacy in his role as mentor and friend to farmers, and many others.
Whoever said, “Don’t tell people your dreams because they will tear them down,” never met Pete. When he was young and uprooted for back-breaking farm work up north, music refreshed him, and just hearing it was not enough.
He put a band together and made music. And he composed songs. His music began with the basics of traditional Mexican rancheras, but he then surprised you with the blues of B.B. King, the rockabilly of Jerry Lee Lewis, and a particular Elvis song, “Treat Me Nice.”
“She had so many things going for her,” said Heidi’s sister Jessica, who bore witness to Heidi’s entire life. “She often lacked self-confidence, but she was smart, fearless, beautiful, and just a great mom.”
When Henry fell victim to COVID-19 on Nov. 28, 2020, at DHR Health in Edinburg, he had just experienced the most glorious four-day period next to Margaret, who also checked into the same hospital after being diagnosed with the virus.
Jessica recalls her father telling his brother, “Chico, ojala que me muera yo primero porque no voy a poder cargar tu caja (Chico, I hope I die first, because I won’t be able to carry your coffin).”
José Alaniz created a comic strip about his uncle who died from COVID-19.
We have felt the loss acutely. No one has been spared. Todas las madres han perdido hijos in this cruel moment.
The pandemic has forced us to find new ways of being. How can we be different, and better, as we emerge more resilient, more empathetic, more aware?
Families, neighborhoods, communities, organizations — we’ve all taken a hit.