Ricardo Romero’s ideology knew no borders.
In the past five to six decades, many have been called to join the Chicano Movement, but only a few, and Ricardo was one, can be credited with shaping its ideology. A remarkable feat for a self-educated man who taught himself to read and write as an adult.
“Public Schools left me illiterate in Spanish and English,” he used to say.
Ricardo passed away April 28 at the age of 86. He was born June 17, 1936, in Brighton, CO. A memorial tribute and celebration of his life was held in Denver on May 16 of this year. The four-hour event was a complex mixture of heart-felt recollections from family, friends and followers combined with the sounds of a solo flute, the pounding drums and feet of Aztec danzantes and the rich strings, horns and vocals of the mariachi.
The banquet room, filled to capacity, was thick with the sweet smells of burning sage and copal.
More than a funeral or celebration of a life, the event was a reunion of civil rights veterans, representatives from the indigenous struggles in Puerto Rico, and Mexico, and a new generation of activists exchanging handshakes, abrasos and fist bumps.
Dr. Priscilla Falcón, Ricardo’s spouse for the past five decades, was one of the first of many speakers. She talked about the early days of El Movimiento.
“There were many political currents inside the Movement. Chicanismo, cultural nationalism, socialism, anarchism, and all that mixed together,” she said. “We were on fire! We were in protests at the high schools, universities, communities, with sit-ins, and pickets.”
Ricardo gave more than six decades of service to La Raza she said and gave an outline of his involvement during only one of those decades as an example.
In 1968, he was arrested when he joined the Kitiama strikers in Brighton, CO.
Two years later he was arrested at the Chicano Moratorium in Los Angeles where police disrupted a large antiwar rally and where journalist Ruben Salazar was killed when he was struck by a tear gas projectile fired by a deputy sheriff into a crowded bar.
“Many people ask, ‘What did we accomplish?’ “We created affirmative action, we helped stop the war in Vietnam, we gave you the Civil Rights Act, we gave you bilingual education. We gave you Chicano, Black Native American, and Puerto Rican studies.
Ricardo Romero
“1973 was heavy year,” Priscilla said. “Ricardo coordinated the resistance at Wounded Knee; Luis “Junior” Martinez was killed and Ricardo met Hortencia Allende, widow of Salvador Allende, the assassinated Chilean president. Ricardo organized pro-Chile rallies throughout the United States.”
By 1970, Ricardo had connected with leaders and campesino liberation movements in Oaxaca and Guerrero, Mexico.
“Today, historians are beginning to discover the relationships between Chicano/Chicana activists and revolutionaries in Mexico,” said Priscilla, a recently retired professor at the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley.
“By 1977, it was really getting intense,” she said. “Ricardo was arrested and imprisoned for contempt of court for refusing to testify before a federal grand jury investigating the Puertoriqueno Independence Movement.”
In 1981, Ricardo was sentenced to three years in federal prison for criminal contempt of court.
“Pris, they’re giving me a tour of the federal prison system,” he told Priscilla at the time. During his three years of incarceration, he served time in Colorado, Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Arizona, California, Virginia, Alabama, and the District of Columbus.
“There is no shame when you go to jail if you go to jail for your people,” Priscilla said.
In a video played on multiple monitors in the salon, Ricardo talked about his time in prison.
“I went to prison supporting Puertorican independence and people ask, ‘Why did you go to prison for that? You’re Mexican.’ “And I say, why did Che Gueverra fight for the Cubans when he was Argentinian? I’m an internationalist. I believe in people. I believe in all the people of the world. Until the day I die I will struggle for that. Until there is human dignity for every man, woman and child in this world.”
More than a dozen speakers, including many of the performers, talked about how Romero had impacted their lives. One remembered him as a history teacher at the Escuela Tlatelolco; others told of accompanying him at meetings with leaders of other movements in Los Angeles, Chicago, New York and numerous Mexican cities and villages.
The following day, May 17, Romero was interred at the Cemetery of Los Valdezes near Del Norte in the San Luis Valley. About 60 people gathered at the gravesite for the burial. According to the crew of volunteers, it had taken three days to dig the grave in the soil mixed with large chunks of marble and lava rock.
Los Valdezes Cemetery land was part of an 1800’s Mexican Land Grant, a woman told the group. “Our great grandparents are buried under the church,” she said pointing to the small church on one edge of the grounds.
The graveside services started with Native American drumming and a woman explaining the tribute to the four directions and the spiritual significance of each.
Daniel Soliz, an El Paso, Texas organizer who accompanied Romero to meet with the Zapatistas in Chiapas, Mexico, was one of the last speakers.
“In Chiapas, two children out of 10 die before they reach the age of 5,” Soliz said. “That’s what the Zapatistas are fighting for and if you knew Ricardo, that’s what he was fighting for as well. He never hung around with those who had it (money), he always hung around with el pueblo — the people. He was
the salt of the earth.”
Romero’s bronze coffin was lowered into the grave using a sling comprised of three long ropes. The men, women and children took turns shoveling the dirt and rocks into the grave.
