Bonds of War : La Verne Avenue Drawn Together by Love, Family

A year ago, La Verne Avenue barely knew about El Golfo Persico .

Now, the residents of this East Los Angeles neighborhood know all about the place where five of its sons served during the war against Iraq. Along the way, they also learned about love, family and neighborhood togetherness. One father said he learned how to cry.

“Before, you just waved ‘hi’ to a neighbor,” said Rachel Reyes, whose son Timothy served in the Navy during the brief but brutal Gulf War. “Now, we hug each other and you can feel it. . . . Not just the hug, but the love and emotion behind it.”

Such are the lessons of war.

Fortunately, the neighborhood’s lessons did not include death. All five of La Verne’s boys came home without a scratch.

Before their return, La Verne Avenue--a tiny sliver of worn stucco and wood-frame homes sandwiched between Whittier and Olympic boulevards--became for many a symbol of Southern California’s connection to the war. Although the Pentagon keeps no figures on such things, the residents proudly proclaimed that their street contributed more than its fair share to the U.S. military presence in the Persian Gulf.

Latinos took special joy in the street’s prominence because it reinforced a tradition of many Mexican-American families who send their young into military service.

Today, the first anniversary of the start of the war, the street at first glance seems the same.

For example, the Buffalo Bills, who got little support from neighborhood kids in last year’s Super Bowl, still will get no respect in the upcoming NFL finale from the regulars who play touch football in an alley near Olympic Boulevard.

“ Orale, the Redskins will kill the Bills!” Roberto Avila, 11, screamed.

But the war dramatically changed the street.

No longer do La Verne’s residents take each other for granted.

Steve and Rachel Reyes, the unofficial leaders of the five families, said they talked monthly before the war with son Timothy, a Navy SEAL still stationed aboard the aircraft carrier Saratoga.

“We were kind of lax about it,” Steve Reyes said. “But now, we talk every weekend. I mean every weekend. When I think about what could have happened to him, I started to . . . “

The father stopped to fight back the tears.

“I used to be macho,” he said after a long pause. “But I love my boy. I guess it took the war to really realize that.”

Then, the tears flowed again.

Timothy--the youngest of Steve and Rachel’s three children--had the closest brush with death of the La Verne Five.

The sailor was aboard a ferry that capsized Dec. 22, 1990, in rough waters off the Israeli port of Haifa while headed toward the Saratoga, anchored nearby. Twenty-one sailors serving on the Saratoga died, but he was among others who jumped off the ferry and swam to safety.

The incident left the family shaken and forever changed. The other four young men changed, too.

Here’s where they are now:

* William Martinez, 21, of the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division, is still with his paratrooper unit at Ft. Bragg, N.C. To the surprise of many, the quiet man eloped with a neighborhood sweetheart to Las Vegas. The couple are expecting a baby by early spring.

* Adrian Yracheta, 23, also of the 82nd, is scheduled to be released from active duty this weekend, but his plans are unresolved. His mother, Irene, still toils away at a taco stand on 3rd Street, a favorite haunt for many La Verne residents.

* Ramon Sandoval Jr., 24, a Marine who became a civilian again last October, wants to be a police officer. His father roundly praises Our Lady of Guadalupe, Mexico’s patron saint, for bringing “Junior” home safely.

* Manuel Castro, 24, is still a Marine. Family members, who kept their thoughts to themselves during the 43-day war, report that he is gaining weight, courtesy of the generous portions of Mexican food available to him stateside.

* Timothy Reyes, 21, is still stationed aboard the Saratoga in Mayport, Fla., but is hoping to get a transfer to San Diego for more SEALS training and to be closer to his family. His current hitch in the Navy will end in 1994.

One La Verne habit that grew out of the war--the prayer meetings--still continues. But instead of focusing on loved ones overseas, the meetings deal with neighborhood problems such as loitering, drinking and loud music.

Martha Martinez Cooper, the street’s Neighborhood Watch leader, reported that up to 20 neighbors regularly show for up for gatherings. Before the war, only four or five attended, she said.

“The war definitely brought us closer together,” Cooper said. “We now have meetings to talk about petitions to get the sheriff’s vice squad to take care of a prostitution problem in the area or some other things.

“La Verne absolutely is a better place now.”

There have been some other surprises on La Verne, as well.

For example, a stepsister that Steve Reyes had not seen for 21 years turned up on his doorstep recently. Explaining that she learned of the street because of the wartime publicity, she nearly brought tears to his eyes with a simple question: “Do you remember me?”

And Reyes’ son Timothy was shocked to find himself meeting one of the total strangers who wrote to him as a result of articles about La Verne Avenue in The Times.

Over the holidays, he gave a big hug to Carrie McCoy, a ninth-grade teacher whose students adopted him as a pen pal after he wrote a troubling postscript to an otherwise cheery letter home.

The letter ended with the words “Rose Hills”--a reference to the Whittier-area cemetery where his grandmother is buried. It was an unmistakable message he wanted to convey to his parents in case something happened to him.

McCoy’s pupils at MaclayJunior High School in Pacoima were touched by the letter and decided to write to Reyes.

Months later, he met with their teacher for a McDonald’s dinner and a movie. “I now can see (and understand) the people in the military uniforms,” McCoy said.

There have been disappointments, too.

Some of the boys’ mothers privately complain that relationships with their sons have grown more distant since the war ended.

The young men are more independent now, they say, and some seem to share little of the parents’ pride in their heritage.

“Well, they’ve grown up,” Steve Reyes said, summing up the feelings of many. “They’ve matured. I guess we all have.”