Homecoming : Last Returnee Says He’s No Hero, but Neighbors Disagree

Although the fighting in the Persian Gulf stopped four months ago, the war ended on La Verne Avenue at 11:35 a.m. Saturday, when the last of the boys came home.

Navy SEAL member Timothy Reyes, who was aboard the aircraft carrier Saratoga during the fighting in the Gulf, appeared at La Verne and Verona Street and slowly walked down the brightly decorated street to hug a neighbor, whisper a greeting to a childhood friend or wipe away an occasional tear.

By the time the sailor got to his parents’ modest green and white home, he was speechless.

“I can’t believe this,” Reyes, 20, murmured, fighting back the tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

But those waiting for him knew the right words.

“Hey, dude, welcome home!” a friend from nearby Fraser Avenue cried out.

For La Verne Avenue, Reyes’ return to East Los Angeles was a widely anticipated event in the working-class barrio he calls home. Of the five boys that La Verne Avenue had sent off to war, he was the last to return home safely.

Although the Pentagon said it keeps no records of such matters, the residents of La Verne certainly believe that their block contributed more than its fair share to the war effort.

Residents had vowed to keep their U.S. flags flying and their yellow ribbons prominently displayed until all five were back.

For some, La Verne came to symbolize the continuing tradition since World War I among many Chicano families that send their young off to the military. A common sight in many of these homes is a special place where the photos of sailors, soldiers and airmen are proudly displayed.

La Verne made it a point to celebrate the return of the five boys. When Spec. 4 Adrian Yracheta, 20, of the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division returned in early April, some residents turned out for a festive mariachi party at the hamburger and taco stand where his mother works.

A raucous barbecue marked the arrival in early May of 20-year-old William Martinez, also of the 82nd Airborne.

The later celebrations for Marines Ramon Sandoval Jr. and Manuel Castro, both 23, were more tame, but the street noted with satisfaction that they, too, had returned safely.

So for Reyes, the last of the returnees, the street pulled out all the stops.

A 60-foot banner, proclaiming “We Love You and We Missed You, Timmy! You Come a Long Ways, Baby,” was hung across La Verne. Brightly colored ballons were placed on each home’s front fence, marking the way to Reyes’ parents’ home.

Each home on the narrow street displayed a “Welcome Home, Tim” sign.

And more than 150 people, including strangers who were drawn to La Verne because of the publicity that the street had attracted, crowded into the Reyes’ front yard for a jubilant afternoon party that was expected to go well into the night.

Ambulance drivers and sheriff’s deputies, occasionally sounding their sirens, cruised by the party to extend their greetings.

The emotional outpouring was in part because La Verne residents had been concerned about Reyes.

Reyes was aboard a ferry that capsized Dec. 22 in rough waters off the Israeli port of Haifa. Twenty-one sailors serving on the Saratoga died, but he was among others who dived off the ferry and swam to safety.

“I don’t remember a thing about what happened,” Reyes said Saturday. “The first thing I remember is taking off my shoes and coat (ashore).”

And it was Reyes, in a January letter to parents Steve and Rachel Reyes, who concluded an otherwise cheery letter with a haunting, unexplained afterthought: “Rose Hills.”

His distraught parents, after reading the letter over and over, concluded that their son was sending an unmistakable message in case something happened to him.

The young sailor admitted Saturday that he wrote the letter during an especially difficult time for him. “I think the letter speaks for itself,” he said.

Reyes was adamant about one thing during Saturday’s celebration, which began when his jetliner landed at Los Angeles International Airport. “I’m no hero,” he said.

That did not dissuade the more than 50 people who clapped, cheered and hollered for more than 20 minutes when the sailor stepped off Delta Flight 79.

“I don’t get it,” one perplexed onlooker said. “Is that guy a celebrity or something?”

“He’s a homeboy from East L.A.,” replied one of Reyes’ friends. “And he’s home from the war.”