Updated: Jun 16, 2021
Before I started to write about my father, I asked some of his grandchildren to describe their grandfather. I received the following: He was unique, compassionate, generous, and humble, He valued education, was a Los Angeles Dodger fan, he loved sharing a meal, and he was funny in his own way.
My father, Eugene Cardiel, better known as “Indio,” was born in 1910. His education stopped in the sixth grade, when he started working to help support his family. He served in the United States Army during World War II, where he was assigned to Europe, and he was discharged in 1946. I have a few pictures, and a post card, that he mailed me when I was born. I was surprised to see one of these pictures in my son Angelo’s locker, when he completed basic training in the Army. Yes, our father was a proud veteran and humble about his service.
Compassionate and generous, truly, were my dad and mom. We had shelves with canned goods in our home, along with bags of flour and beans. We moved to Norwalk, California, in 1949, to an area known as the barrio, my father's grandfather, father, and uncle lived in the same area. Most of the men worked in construction, as did my father. During the winter, they would go for weeks without working. My parents had no problem sharing canned goods, eggs, flour, and beans with our neighbors when unemployed due to the weather; my parents would buy a crate of eggs, 100-pound bags of flour and beans. When my siblings and I visited my parents, we went home with a box of groceries, baby food, fruit, and vegetables. My dad continued doing this after my mother passed away, and it is remembered as “Grandpa Gene’s Way,” (of loving our family).
Education was important to my dad. He attended as many of his grandchildren’s high school graduations as possible. My niece remembers his huge, happy smile when she graduated. He helped me to pay for classes and books; to earn my Associate in Arts Degree. No grants were available at that time.
He loved the Dodgers, and would call to tell us, “The Dodgers are on!” And then he would hang up the phone. (This was the only reason for the phone call.)
He came to visit one day in the summer, and noticed that our television was gone from the living room. Afterall, it was baseball season. He said, “What happened to the TV?” I said, “It’s broken.” He said, “Get in the car.” So, off we went to May Company, to buy a new TV. He then said, “How were the boys going to watch the Dodgers with no TV?”
Sharing a meal – He made the best fresh chile, using California green chiles, yellow chiles, fresh garlic, tomatoes, and salt. He used the “molcajete” to make his chile. Sometimes it was mild, and other times hot. We would bring some home to make with pork meat. His molcajete is still used in my kitchen.
He made the best chicken soup! Not a lot of ingredients, but the chicken was slowly cooked, not boiled. Sometimes, he would make noodles to go with it.
My father helped in the community when we were young. He belonged to an association that cleaned up the neighborhood (barrio), petitioned the county to install street lights, had Christmas parties for the kids, and took the kids to the mountains. He was a member of the Laborers and Plasters Union for over fifty years, and attended the monthly meetings.
He was a “Chicano!” He passed away in 1998. To this day, he is still living in the hearts of his family.
My dad was a very generous person, we called him the "Bank of Gene." When we went to clean his house, after he passed away, I found pieces of paper with names, dates, and funds loaned to friends. This really touched my heart to know that my dad was such a good man.
Happy Mother’s Day to my beautiful mom, Eileen.
This is a picture of my mom, Eileen and me, Marissa.
Eileen Roseanne Sena, born in La Junta, Colorado, moved to the east coast in her mid-20’s and had three children. Her first child was Paul Thomas Klaas. He and his wife Crystal have three boys, Declan, Jude, and Silas. Her second child was Philip Matthew Klaas, and third was daughter; Marissa Eileen Klaas, born in New Jersey.
Our family grew by three additional boys, when Eileen married Philip (Phil) Loughnane, II, in 1997. Phil’s sons are: Rory, Patrick, and Philip III, Loughnane. Rory has a son named Harlon, he and Tiffany Bakos have a daughter named Lilah. Philip III and his wife Liz Loughnane have a son named Drew and a new baby girl on her way.
They have a total of seven grandchildren, so far!
This picture was taken at my wedding: Standing, left to right is my mom Eileen, my husband Jake, me (Marissa), and my stepdad, Phil.
While we would never be described as tall or lanky (like my great-great grandma Abelina Duran Fajardo), we don’t fall far from the description of boisterous and/or commanding. We may not have the same physical features as each other, but our mannerisms are almost identical. Our strong presence can change the temperature of a room. Our loyalty to each other doesn’t falter under circumstance.
The connection between “mother and daughter relationships” is the real generational wealth; it has nothing to do with finances, and yet everything to do with our souls.
“My mom, Eileen and Grandma Della had a very close relationship. They
laughed and cried together. My mom describes their relationship as always supporting each other and as best friends.”
This picture of Grandma Della was take around June 1997 and she passed away in June of 1998.
My grandmother, Maria Deluvina Madrid (Della) had a close relationship with my great-grandma, Rebecca (Madrid) O’Canas (Becky), and with my great-great grandma (abuelita), Maria Refugio (Encinias) Madrid.They were all very close and spent a lot of time together.
I feel very blessed to know that our family is able to trace our "maternal" side back 12 generations.
I love this picture of Grandma Della and me! I tried to imitate her look in this photo. My mom and her siblings, all say that I look like her. I can definitely see the resemblance, and everyone says that Grandma Della was a “BEAUTY!” She was a really great dancer. She and Grandpa Rolando loved to dance. They would lead the “LA MARCHA” at the wedding dances for family and friends.
In my family, it’s a generational trait to be independent women, to stand strong alone, or together as a family. The impact we have on each other cannot be described using the words of this world. We are strong in our faith, and know we have the responsibility to love unconditionally. We share our worldly home with adopted family from New Jersey. We laugh, cry, sing, dance, and we enjoy welcoming family and friends into our lives. Another long family history of tradition, is that family always comes first. People enjoy coming to our home for fun and non-judgmental acceptance in good times and in bad. With great awareness brings great tragedy, joy, grief, and love. To understand darkness and still be a light, will be our legacy, whether we are together or apart.
This is our blended family. This picture was taken in the mountains, when I got married to my husband Jake Valentine in Grandby, CO.
Starting from the left side of the picture:
Rory Loughnane and Tiffany Bakos,
Philip, III and Liz Loughnane, and son Drew,
Jennifer Bero and Philip Klaas,
Eileen (Sena) Loughnane,
Jake Valentine and Marissa (Klaas) Valentine,
Phil Loughnane, II,
Patrick Loughnane,
Crystal and Paul Klaas, standing in front of them are their sons: Declan, Silas and Jude
So, "Happy Mother’s Day to all our moms, grandmothers, pet moms, and those who are in heaven waiting for us on our next journey home!"
From our Sena, Klaas, and Loughnane families.
The two most devout Catholic women I know are my mother, Fabiola and her mother, Maria Rebecca de los Dolores Barela. My grandmother, Rebeca, “Becky,” was born on August 23,1901, in Costilla, New Mexico. Although born a Barela, she was raised by her mother’s side, the Trujillo’s. As I was researching her side of the family this summer, I discovered in the 1910 and 1920 census records, that she was residing with Donaciano and Maria Dolores Serna Trujillo, her maternal grandparents. Within the last year, my mother found Grandma’s 8th grade diploma, showing her name as “Rebeca Trujillo.” Were we surprised? Yet, we understood that back then, people would assume last names without any legalities.
I have fond memories of the many times I stayed with my grandparents. My grandmother was a wonderful cook, and she also kept a clean and tidy house. During the 1930’s, in Costilla, she cooked for the nuns of the Sacred Heart Parish. The nuns, all from the east, were accustomed to gourmet cooking. So, my grandmother learned various cooking methods with wine and brandy, and she learned to make special sauces. I can still smell the various vegetable flavors as she made Irish stew. Her secret was browning the seasoned meat in red wine, and blending various herbs. Every holiday was a festive occasion at her house. Aunts and uncles, and their families gathered. The adults would be served first. Then, we grandchildren would eat at the “2nd shift,” after the adults. Grandma’s Easter ham was her specialty! Her special glaze made it so mouthwatering and flavorful! Oh my! Her turkeys for Thanksgiving and Christmas were a sight to behold! The little tricks she learned from the nuns, served her through her lifetime. Her cooked turkeys were golden and moist, and so picture perfect. The cranberry and orange relish she prepared, had a balance of sweetness and tartness. At least two weeks before Christmas, my father would hold a "matanza"(the butchering of a young hog). What a production this was! Every adult had a role; my maternal grandfather would kill the hog and pierce the heart to collect the blood in a pan. My role was to carefully take this pan to my grandmother, so she would make "morsillas" for lunch, to celebrate this event. At this time, I will not go into the other aspects of the "matanza", which can be difficult for some readers to visualize.
After processing the animal, my father would give the tenderloins to Grandma, so that she could make some “empanaditas” (mince meat filled turnovers.) I recall Grandma using her family's "molino" (a gift from her maternal grandmother) as she shredded the boiled pork. She would season it, and add the right amount of brandy for that unique taste. We grandchildren couldn’t wait for Christmas dinner at Grandma’s. She took so much pride, and used so much energy, to make everything taste right.
As a devout Catholic, she attended mass every Sunday, and twice a week. I remember as a school age boy, walking with her six blocks to St. Patrick Catholic Church in Pueblo, Colorado. She also prayed a lot at home. She prayed the rosary and novenas for those special intentions. Her faith was so important to her and her family, that prayer and religious traditions were seen at all family functions and holidays. My mother, her oldest daughter, is much the same as she was, raised in a humble family with strong religious beliefs.
This is a photo of my maternal grandparents, Rebeca Barela Santistevan and Juan Santistevan.