A Leader Takes Leave

In the final months of his life, Hector Godinez could hardly stand up and get around by himself. Every day, the retired postmaster, nicknamed “General” in tribute to his commanding character, was at war with the Parkinson’s disease that was invading his body.

Now in his old age, Godinez had to force his rigid muscles and trembling left limb to carry out his orders. And he didn’t want help from anybody. He had been a tank commander under Gen. Patton and he was too proud to be helpless.

Stop shaking, he commanded his arm. Get up and walk, he ordered his uncooperative legs.

Yes, it was a battle, but Hector Godinez just loved to go out to lunch.

He would take a booth at Norm’s or at El Tapatio in Santa Ana, often accompanied by his friend Gilbert Garcia. He’d order soup or caldo, but he would hardly eat. He didn’t have much of an appetite, but he also didn’t have time.

Wherever he went, from the Ritz-Carlton to Casa Garcia, people came up to greet Hector Godinez, the mailman who made it big.

Some were former postal employees who had worked for the country’s first Mexican American postmaster, appointed by President Kennedy in 1961. Some were community leaders who respected his commitment to the fight against school segregation and job discrimination.

But many were just average folks who never forgot that such an influential man had gone out of his way for them, helping them find a job, fill out an immigration form, or gain access to a government official.

They all filed past his table like he was holding court.

“He wanted to be among people,” said Mary, his widow and wife of 53 years.

“He thrived on it,” said his daughter, Linda Godinez Miller.

After his social lunches, the war would start again. His arms would shake when he tried to push himself off the table, and people felt obliged to help him up.

“Don’t touch him,” Garcia would warn. “He wants to do it himself.”

Then they’d head back to the home Godinez had built a quarter-century ago on classy Santa Clara Avenue in North Santa Ana, where the former Delhi barrio boy used to deliver mail to the city’s government and business elite. He was so proud of this house, with its mission-style arches and red-tiled roof, that Mary still remembers the exact date they moved in: July 14, 1974.

But the house, like his body, had become a sort of prison. The door would close and loneliness enveloped once again the dapper man with the quick wit who always remembered everybody’s name and even remembered the names of people’s mothers or nephews.

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Back home in those final months, until his illness forced him into a convalescent home, all Hector Godinez had left were his memories.

“All these other people disappeared,” said Garcia. “Nobody was coming. Nobody was calling.”

That’s why the old postmaster fought so mightily to go out to lunch.

“It was very hard because he found himself, well, alone, and he couldn’t do as much as he used to,” said Mary on Thursday, the day after her husband’s funeral. “He would tell me that it hurt him very much.”

At one time, Godinez commanded 50,000 employees as a regional boss for the postal service. He had started as a mail carrier after World War II, coming home to his beloved Santa Ana a decorated veteran.

He was a pioneer member of the League of United Latin American Citizens. He served on the board of the Rancho Santiago Community College District for 17 years. He was named president in the mid-1970s of the Santa Ana Chamber of Commerce, which had earlier opposed his appointment as postmaster.

He was a man with no hobbies except hosting; into his home came a constant stream of friends, co-workers and community leaders. On any given day, he’d announce to his wife that he had invited half a dozen people home for dinner.

He’d offer his tiled living room and ample patio for Christmas Eve employee parties and for political fund-raisers. On Sundays, Miguel Pulido and his father would come over for breakfast. The younger Pulido, who’s now the mayor, would bring his guitar and they’d all sing.

They had reason to be festive. Godinez had helped save the Pulido family muffler shop from city wrecking crews, a fight that rallied Latinos and launched Pulido’s political career.

“He knew how to envision,” the mayor said after the funeral. “He knew how to think about a different future and how to get there.”

Even after he retired in 1992, Godinez would call to offer political advice. Pulido appreciated the sage counsel from the postmaster who had mastered the art of compromise, of reconciling opposing forces.

Stay on track, Godinez would say. Don’t let your Latino critics force you to play minority politics.

“You have to keep the city integrated,” he’d tell the mayor. “Don’t let it polarize.”

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Godinez practiced what he preached--even in death.

His funeral Mass was brimming with people of all persuasions. Friends and foes, allies and enemies gathered to pay their final respects to the man eulogized as “the great unifier.”

The services were attended by a Who’s Who of Santa Ana city politics. The current and three past mayors. The police chief, the city manager, the school board president and the superintendent. The area’s new state assemblyman and the county’s new district attorney. Plus pew after pew of veteran community leaders.

But the common folk also came. There was the cook from El Tapatio, with her hair in a long Mexican braid, who remembered that Godinez would often stop in the kitchen to say hello and always addressed her as comadre, almost like a relative.

“He was always good to the little person,” said his daughter Linda.

Rosemarie Fernandez once worked under Godinez at the post office. One day, she recalled at the vigil Tuesday night, her ex-boss noticed that she was looking glum and he asked her how she was doing. Fernandez shared the bad news: Her father had been diagnosed with cancer.

Godinez gave her a hug and a few words of encouragement. Later she was touched to learn that her father had received a letter of sympathy and support from the busy postal chief. She never forgot that Godinez had taken the time to reach out to a sick man he had never met.

Fernandez succeeded her boss and also broke employment barriers, becoming the first female postmaster for Santa Ana. She’s now in charge of all postal operations for south Orange County.

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At the Godinez home after the vigil that night, Linda looked over to the kitchen and saw a scene that made her cry. There at the table were her father’s real compadres, the godfathers of his two sons and two daughters, as well as men who had made him godfather of their children.

Her father would have loved that, she thought. He would have fought his crippling disease for one final chance to play host at his house, insisting that everybody eat and drink and getting offended if they didn’t.

“He would have been in his glory,” Linda said.

At the Mass the next day, there was an invitation extended for a final feast of carnitas, birria, rice and beans. It was made from the pulpit by Rudy Montejano, a former community leader who returned to Santa Ana to deliver the eulogy for Godinez.

Montejano magnanimously invited the entire cathedral full of mourners to drop by his old friend’s home after the service. He announced the Santa Clara address but figured it wasn’t really necessary.

“I think everyone knows where the Godinez residence is,” he said.

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Agustin Gurza’s column appears Tuesday and Saturday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714) 966-7712 or agustin.gurza@latimes.com