A New Battle : Latino Veterans Fight to Protect East L.A. Memorial

Lou Salazar and his buddies at American Legion Post 804 in East Los Angeles get mad every time they see one of the city’s oldest monuments to Latino war veterans defaced by graffiti or cluttered with trash.

For years, the obelisk-like monument at a five-point intersection of Brooklyn Avenue and Lorena and Indiana streets behind the Evergreen Cemetery has been the center of Memorial Day homages to Latino veterans. Last year, more than 150 people turned out for the flag-saluting ceremony to honor the community’s war dead.

But as Memorial Day approaches, ropes on two flagpoles have been cut by vandals, and Salazar and the men from Post 804 complain about what they say are problems plaguing the site: unsavory loiterers, debris, cracks in the stonework.

Salazar, 39, a Marine Corps machine-gunner in Vietnam, is trying to organize a campaign to attract attention to the memorial. He complains that despite city efforts, more needs to be done.

“I pass by and see piles of people sleeping. You would be surprised at all the trash they dump,” agreed Amador Amer Garcia, a 62-year-old veteran of World War II who made sergeant in the 11th Airborne, saw combat in the Philippines and bears war-era tattoos on his thick forearms.

Never mind that the monument appears to have survived the ravages of time and the even-more-perilous ravages of life on a busy urban corner better than most public structures. Never mind that the monument has actually received more than the usual amount of city-sponsored upkeep, including a new sprinkler system and regular visits by a grounds crew.

“It is being pretty well maintained now, if you ask me,” said Armando G. Ramirez, deputy to City Councilman Richard Alatorre, who represents the area. “It’s in a very busy area (with) a lot of traffic, but I can say it’s never been overly neglected.”

Such reassurance seems to mean little to the men of American Legion Post 804. For them, it is an emotional matter, a matter of pride. They hold the monument dear. It is sacrosanct. And for a group that feels it hasn’t always received its due credit in U.S. war history, the Latinos at Post 804 take care of the monument very seriously.

“It makes you feel bad,” said Robert Lerma, 58. “Bad.” Lerma lost both legs during the Korean War when he was caught in machine-gun cross-fire. He walks on two artificial limbs.

The intersection of Brooklyn Avenue and Lorena and Indiana streets is actually the site of three monuments. First, there is the obelisk dedicated on May 30, 1947, by the Latin American Civic and Cultural Committee “to the sacred memory of the American soldiers of Mexican descent who gave their lives in World War II, 1941-45, for the survival of the principles of democracy.” An estimated 300,000 Mexican-Americans served in the U.S. armed forces in World War II.

A copper sculpture in the shape of a flame tops the obelisk, which is encircled by a two-foot-high wrought-iron fence and flowers. It sits on a grassy island, flanked by shops that peddle handmade tortillas and tamales. After the Korean War, the American G.I. Forum, an organization that specializes in Latino veteran affairs, placed next to the obelisk a plaque in memory of Latinos killed in that war.

And across the street, a granite slab honoring “author, soldier, patriot” Raul R. Morin is the cornerstone in the Raul R. Morin Memorial Square. The small plaza, dedicated in 1968, contains two flagpoles and two benches.

Morin, a World War II vet and activist in Mexican-American politics, wrote “Among the Valiant,” a tribute to wartime heroics of Latinos told through the stories of 17 Mexican-Americans who won the Medal of Honor in World War II.

On a recent visit to the square, the monument was blighted by a small amount of graffiti scrawled by a girls’ gang, a few discarded newspapers, beer bottles, a shoe and an overturned shopping cart.

Officials say the memorials are in pretty good shape and are visited by city maintenance crews every three weeks.

“It’s not that much different in appearance from the (surrounding) area,” said Alatorre spokeswoman Rosa Martinez. “It reflects the area. It gets the same kind of attention the neighborhood gets, except we have spent time trying to keep up that corner.”

Maintaining the memorial site has been something of a community affair. Alatorre’s office replaced a guardrail destroyed in an auto accident last summer, and the city Public Works Department does sandblasting to remove graffiti.

Nearby Belvedere Junior High School supplied roses and birds of paradise, Post 804 buys the paint and a local lumber company gives boards and nails to repair the benches, said Tony Jurado, a 70-year-old retired railroad machinist who regularly helps clean up the place and paints the railings every year just before Memorial Day.

“Everybody pitches in,” said Jurado, a Boyle Heights native and World War II vet who fought under the command of Gen. George S. Patton.

But someone stole many of the flowers, Jurado said. And after gang members cut and burned the flagpole ropes last year, the vets have not been able to raise a flag.

“It makes you feel terrible,” Jurado said. “I go and get so angry. I tell those people (sitting) around the monument they’ve got to respect it. If it weren’t for those men who died you wouldn’t be here, I tell them. You are supposed to respect our men.”