Elaine D. Briseño
el defensor chieftain
In their yard, on blocks, sits a white
Chevy Corvair that has not had a driver since 1967 — the year
Josie and Bennie Baca's son, Isidro, went off to defend his
country in Vietnam.
The car belonged to Isidro. Over 30 years
after Isidro died in the Vietnam War, Bennie said he still
cannot stand the thought of seeing someone drive his son's car.
"I don't want to see someone driving
that thing around town," he said.
Isidro died when his convoy was attacked
as he was returning from R and R, a time of rest and relaxation
away from the war, in China. He had served almost a full year of
a 13 month tour of duty when machine gun fire killed him in
August of 1967. He was 19 years old.
Isidro was the first Vietnam casualty in
Socorro County. As a result, local leaders came together and
created a memorial. That structure stands in what has now become
Isidro Baca Memorial Park, located between the Plaza and the
courthouse. The memorial became not only a dedication to Isidro,
but to all the men in Socorro County who died in the Vietnam
War.
When the park was dedicated, it had little
grass and no trees. The original monument was a square brick
structure. It was replaced with the prism on a rectangular
structure in the 1980s according to Bennie.
The government did not draft their son, he
went willingly as a Marine, his father said. Isidro came from a
line of military men. His grandfather served in World War I and
his father, Bennie, in World War II.
"We have been military all our
lives," Bennie said. "I followed my dad and my son
followed me."
However, Josie was not so accepting of the
idea that her son wanted to join the military during war time.
"The recruiter would call and say
'May I speak to Isidro,'" she said. "I would say 'He's
not here!' and hang up the phone."
Eventually, he was home and the 1964
graduate of Socorro High School did sign up.
The Bacas said the day they were notified of their son's death
seems like yesterday.
A few weeks before his death, Josie said
they did not hear from Isidro for a month. They feared the worst
had happened. When they finally heard from him, they received
three letters. Shortly after that, the letters stopped coming.
"When they notified us, Josie was
home alone," he said.
Josie said a Marine and a priest came to
her house and she knew then.
"When I answered the door I said 'Is
my boy dead?'" she said. "You can lose your mom or
your dad, but oh, not a son."
Bennie agreed that the pain from the death
of a child stays with people.
"You never get over a thing like
that," Bennie said. "When he was killed, our world
collapsed."
And his world was still collapsing even
years later. He said his anger was so great that he could not
stand the sight of a Vietnamese person.
"We were invited to the dedication of
the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington DC," he said.
"We went down for breakfast and we had a Vietnamese waiter.
I started yelling at him about how his people killed my boy. A
few years later I realized I was wrong, but for a while I could
not stand the Vietnamese."
He said every day gets better. In the end,
reluctantly Baca gave into his wife's wishes and agreed to sell
the car. But not to anyone in Socorro. However, another day sets
and no one turns the key and revs the engine. The car serves as
its own memorial to a life cut short.
As for dealing with it now, Josie has her
own way of coping.
"In a way I don't feel that
bad," she said. "He was an altar boy and I know his
soul is OK."
This
Corvair has been sitting on blocks since 1967
