Nellie Esquibel reflects on Mexican Village as she prepares for dedication of new Cathedral
Editor's Note: The following article was written in 2000. In September, 2010, she attended the Mexican Village reunion held at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
Nellie Esquibel, one of the few people living in Dodge City to have attended the very first Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in what came to be known as the “Mexican Village,” is hoping God will grant her the strength to attend the dedication of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe Dec. 9.
The 87-year-old could easily pass for 65, and although quick out of her chair and across the room to search for a photo or to answer the phone, age has a way of creeping below the surface. A severely broken ankle 12 years ago from which she still suffers doesn’t help.
“I will attend the dedication, God willing,” she said. “I prayed, ‘Please Lady, give me the strength to attend.”
Nellie has lived nearly her entire life in Dodge City, having moved here from Hutchinson when an infant. Soon after she was born, her parents separated; Nellie’s father stayed in Hutchinson and she and her mother moved to Dodge. Soon after their arrival, her mother, pregnant with another child, turned Nellie over to the child’s grandparents to care for. Nellie said her mother was simply too poor, and her quarters too cramped, to care for more than one child.
“My grandparents owned a grocery store,” Nellie said. “This was the store.” Nellie looked around the living room of her house. “We had the store and our house moved here from the Village 40-some years ago. It cost about $250 to move.
“The house we lived in back then is next door.” Nellie pointed out the window to a small building, not much bigger than a one-car garage. “We had water and electricity, but we didn’t have indoor bathrooms. We would pay our rent at the old freight-house — where the trains came in.
“It was 50 cents a month,” she said, grinning.
After moving the store and their home to the east side of Dodge City, the family of six continued to live in their small home until they had totally refurbished the larger store into a house.
What came to be known as the Mexican Village was a small community of mostly Mexican Americans and immigrants. Around the turn of the last century, the Santa Fe Railroad was actively hiring laborers from Mexico. Both Nellie’s father, and later her husband, worked for the Santa Fe.
Around 1915, Father John Handly built a chapel to serve the Village, partitioning off part of it as a school. During the pastorate of Mexican priest Father Jose P. Grajales, the chapel was given the name Our Lady of Guadalupe.
“It was very small,” said Nellie, who attended both Mass and school in the small structure. After school, she’d work in her grandparents’ store and, on occasion, attend dances at a local dance hall.
“I loved to dance,” she said, smiling. “We used to dance all night. Some nights, I couldn’t even take my shoes off. We’d dance with everyone, old and young.”
In 1933, at the tender age of 19, Nellie met her life’s love, Baltasar, a “grease monkey” with the Santa Fe who moonlighted as a saxophone player with a popular local swing band called the “Rhythm Aces.”
“They played all around,” Nellie said, displaying several photos of the band from the late 30s and early 40s. “His name was Baltasar, like the Wise Man. When people would ask him, ‘Where’d you get that name?’ he’d get annoyed and say ‘If you were Catholic, you’d know.’”
“He’d get so mad, so we started calling him Freddie.”
In the mid-40s, the community began fund raising for a new church. Amid fiestas, bingos and dances, Nellie and a circle of friends began making burritos to raise money for a new parish.
“I had 30 pound bags of flour,” she said, raising her hand up to her chin. “I didn’t think that flower would ever go down.”
On May 11, 1949, Nellie found herself posing for a picture at the groundbreaking of the second Our Lady of Guadalupe Church. During its construction, she helped carry bricks to the site.
“They said if we wanted bricks to build the church with, we’d have to help go get them and clean them,” she said. “We were young, and we wanted to help.”
In 1956 the city decided to close the Village, and Nellie, her husband and four children – Baltasar, Jr., Larry, Patty and Debbie — were one of several families who moved their houses to the east side of town. Others simply left their home and found housing elsewhere.
As the old Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish closes and the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish opens, Nellie is concerned about the ability for people such as herself to travel to the church, no longer in the seat of the community. But yet, she understands the need for a new church. She said the noon Mass was “very crowded.”
“We just have so many families, we just needed a bigger church.”
Life’s chapters never end without leaving a host of memories. When asked some of her best
memories, she sat quietly for a moment, smiled, and said, “We had a phone at the store. You had to call the operator to dial out. One time my grandmother, who didn’t speak very good English, tried to tell the operator to dial 5 for a taxi for someone. The operator misunderstood what she said, and in a little while, here comes a fire truck!”
She also recalled the kindness of one of Our Lady of Guadalupe’s memorable priests, Father William Vogel, who died last year.
“He celebrated our 50th anniversary Mass,” Nellie said. “When my husband died seven years ago, he came here and spent the whole day with me. I hated for him to move.”
Nellie Esquibel, one of the few people living in Dodge City to have attended the very first Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in what came to be known as the “Mexican Village,” is hoping God will grant her the strength to attend the dedication of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe Dec. 9.
The 87-year-old could easily pass for 65, and although quick out of her chair and across the room to search for a photo or to answer the phone, age has a way of creeping below the surface. A severely broken ankle 12 years ago from which she still suffers doesn’t help.
“I will attend the dedication, God willing,” she said. “I prayed, ‘Please Lady, give me the strength to attend.”
Nellie has lived nearly her entire life in Dodge City, having moved here from Hutchinson when an infant. Soon after she was born, her parents separated; Nellie’s father stayed in Hutchinson and she and her mother moved to Dodge. Soon after their arrival, her mother, pregnant with another child, turned Nellie over to the child’s grandparents to care for. Nellie said her mother was simply too poor, and her quarters too cramped, to care for more than one child.
“My grandparents owned a grocery store,” Nellie said. “This was the store.” Nellie looked around the living room of her house. “We had the store and our house moved here from the Village 40-some years ago. It cost about $250 to move.
“The house we lived in back then is next door.” Nellie pointed out the window to a small building, not much bigger than a one-car garage. “We had water and electricity, but we didn’t have indoor bathrooms. We would pay our rent at the old freight-house — where the trains came in.
“It was 50 cents a month,” she said, grinning.
After moving the store and their home to the east side of Dodge City, the family of six continued to live in their small home until they had totally refurbished the larger store into a house.
What came to be known as the Mexican Village was a small community of mostly Mexican Americans and immigrants. Around the turn of the last century, the Santa Fe Railroad was actively hiring laborers from Mexico. Both Nellie’s father, and later her husband, worked for the Santa Fe.
Around 1915, Father John Handly built a chapel to serve the Village, partitioning off part of it as a school. During the pastorate of Mexican priest Father Jose P. Grajales, the chapel was given the name Our Lady of Guadalupe.
“It was very small,” said Nellie, who attended both Mass and school in the small structure. After school, she’d work in her grandparents’ store and, on occasion, attend dances at a local dance hall.
“I loved to dance,” she said, smiling. “We used to dance all night. Some nights, I couldn’t even take my shoes off. We’d dance with everyone, old and young.”
In 1933, at the tender age of 19, Nellie met her life’s love, Baltasar, a “grease monkey” with the Santa Fe who moonlighted as a saxophone player with a popular local swing band called the “Rhythm Aces.”
“They played all around,” Nellie said, displaying several photos of the band from the late 30s and early 40s. “His name was Baltasar, like the Wise Man. When people would ask him, ‘Where’d you get that name?’ he’d get annoyed and say ‘If you were Catholic, you’d know.’”
“He’d get so mad, so we started calling him Freddie.”
In the mid-40s, the community began fund raising for a new church. Amid fiestas, bingos and dances, Nellie and a circle of friends began making burritos to raise money for a new parish.
“I had 30 pound bags of flour,” she said, raising her hand up to her chin. “I didn’t think that flower would ever go down.”
On May 11, 1949, Nellie found herself posing for a picture at the groundbreaking of the second Our Lady of Guadalupe Church. During its construction, she helped carry bricks to the site.
“They said if we wanted bricks to build the church with, we’d have to help go get them and clean them,” she said. “We were young, and we wanted to help.”
In 1956 the city decided to close the Village, and Nellie, her husband and four children – Baltasar, Jr., Larry, Patty and Debbie — were one of several families who moved their houses to the east side of town. Others simply left their home and found housing elsewhere.
As the old Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish closes and the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish opens, Nellie is concerned about the ability for people such as herself to travel to the church, no longer in the seat of the community. But yet, she understands the need for a new church. She said the noon Mass was “very crowded.”
“We just have so many families, we just needed a bigger church.”
Life’s chapters never end without leaving a host of memories. When asked some of her best
memories, she sat quietly for a moment, smiled, and said, “We had a phone at the store. You had to call the operator to dial out. One time my grandmother, who didn’t speak very good English, tried to tell the operator to dial 5 for a taxi for someone. The operator misunderstood what she said, and in a little while, here comes a fire truck!”
She also recalled the kindness of one of Our Lady of Guadalupe’s memorable priests, Father William Vogel, who died last year.
“He celebrated our 50th anniversary Mass,” Nellie said. “When my husband died seven years ago, he came here and spent the whole day with me. I hated for him to move.”