On a fateful afternoon more than 50 years ago, Isidro Hernandez Tovar survived one of the worst accidents in Salinas Valley history.
Hernandez Tovar, 70, remembers it well. He was 19, and had just finished picking celery in a field near Chualar. He returned with other farmworkers to their bus — really just a flatbed truck with aluminum sidings — and made his way to the front to gather his belongings.
He never heard the train whistle, but he felt the impact when the locomotive struck the rear of the bus.
He awoke to find bodies already covered with orange tarps, but he soon lost consciousness again. He was released from the hospital almost two months later.
Hernandez Tovar returned to his native Zapotlanejo, Jalisco, Mexico. He has been hungry for news of the accident, wanting to know if the site is remembered, the event commemorated. He returned to the railroad crossing just south of Chualar two years ago, and found nothing — no marker, no celebration.
About a week ago, he read an article in The Herald from 2013 that told the story of a man believed to be the only remaining survivor of the accident. He called the reporter and said, “I”m also a survivor.”
On Thursday, Hernandez Tovar, his wife and son traveled north to visit the site of the accident and to talk to local researchers documenting the history of the bracero program, of which he was a part.
He stood on the corner of Foletta and Broome roads, where the train struck the bus. The country road is like many others in the Salinas Valley: deep agricultural lands as far as the eye can see to the north and south, mountains framing the valley in the east and west.
This time, there was a marker. It”s a white cardboard cross that reads: “RIP 32 braceros. Sept. 17, 1963. 4:25 PM.”
“Here is where I was born again,” he said.
Life as a bracero
Thousands of workers came to the United States from 1942 to 1964 under the bracero program, a guest worker initiative to alleviate labor shortages caused by World War II, mostly in agricultural enterprises. Like thousands of men from agricultural regions in Mexico, Hernandez Tovar signed up for the trip north.
“I had a relative, he was big in my town,” he said in Spanish. “I was charged 700 pesos to sign up — but I did not have the money to pay until I was here. Four men from my town came here.”
In Sonora, Mexico, the men stopped to receive their assignments.
“Frankly, they treated you like a little animal, they sent you from here to there,” he said. “(The employers) were the ones who did everything. They would tell you to either go to Coachella, the Imperial Valley or Salinas. Three of us from my town came to Salinas.”
The men worked on crews of 30. One crew cut celery to sell whole, another cut it up and bagged it. There were two crew leaders, and all the men lived in a labor camp in Salinas.
The day of the accident, Hernandez Tovar had left a satchel with his belongings tied to a table used as a seat near the emergency exit at the front of the bus. There were four boards, two in the middle of the bus and two on the sides, where the workers sat. When everyone was ready, the vehicle began to move.
Hernandez Tovar said he does not remember hearing a train whistle. All he remembers is feeling the impact and thinking, “There”s another hit coming.” He believed the bus would hit a wall, a tree, another truck.
But there was no other hit. The bus lost speed and eventually stopped.
“There was some light trickling in, and I remember seeing somebody moving. I must have fainted for a while, then I woke up, and I saw ambulances and many people. The bodies were already covered with an orange tarp,” he said. “I was looking for my friend, Sixto Robles Urzua, also from Zapotlanejo, but I didn”t see him. I walked to the bodies, uncovered the tarps, saw two or three bodies, but I didn”t recognize any of them. They were completely disfigured. I kept walking and when I couldn”t walk anymore, I sat by the edge of the field. Next day at the hospital I couldn”t even write a letter.”
A woman offered to write a letter and hand-deliver it to his mother in Mexico, he said. Robles Urzua, his fellow countryman, died at the accident site.
“It was a hard blow for his relatives in Mexico,” he said. “She told my mom that I was OK, not to be worried. I was all banged up, my shoulder blade was broken, but I could walk. I was sitting up front (on the bus). I think that”s what saved me.”
Twenty-eight people died at the scene. Four died later.
Research
The Chualar bus accident, declared by the National Safety Council as the biggest fatal vehicle accident in United States history, has long been a rallying point for immigration rights activists in the Salinas Valley. To them, it demonstrates the abuses these men were subjected to.
Researcher Ernesto Galarza did a yearlong investigation of the tragedy and concluded the growers” disregard for the safety of the workers was exemplified by the practice of converting flat-bed trucks into unsafe buses.
Activists lobbied for years to have a portion of Highway 101 named the “Bracero Memorial Highway.” The name was dedicated during the 50th anniversary of the Chualar accident in September.
Former Everett Alvarez High School history teacher Ignacio Ornelas continues to document the history of braceros. As part of his research, Ornelas arranged to have 10 braceros honored Thursday at Stanford University. During the ceremony, Stanford professors talked about the importance of the bracero program in the history of immigration from Mexico to the United States. According to Mariano-Florentino Cuellar, director of the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies, the program paved the way for further immigration in later years, brought families that became established, and can be credited for transforming the demographic makeup of California, which is now more than 38 percent Latino.
Among the honorees were Salvador Flores Barragan, the only other known survivor of the Chualar crash, and Rafael Silva Puentes, a patriarch of much influence in the Alisal neighborhood of Salinas.
For his research of braceros, Ornelas aims “to capture their voice, record it, and also make sure we record their history,” he said. “If scholars or families ever want to study what it was like for someone of that generation, specifically in the Salinas Valley or Watsonville, we have something recorded. This was a major program, and they”re proud of their work and the major contribution to labor history and the United States.”
Ornelas interviewed Hernandez Tovar for his project on Friday.
Part of history
After spending two months convalescing in a Carmel hospital, Hernandez Tovar returned to Zapotlanejo. He spent 10 years in his hometown, traveling back and forth to Mexico City to be interviewed by the insurance companies and other officials. Sometime around 1968, he received compensation of about 92,000 pesos.
“During those visits, I used to see some of the remaining survivors, the widows and the mothers,” he said. “After we got the money, I lost track of everybody. I”ve always thought about the event, but I lost touch. Until now, when my son encouraged me to look things up. He said, ”Dad, you”re part of history.””
Claudia Meléndez Salinas can be reached at 753-6755 or cmelendez@montereyherald.com.
