AND THE INGLEWOOD TRIBUNE, CARSON BULLETIN, WILMINGTON BEACON, THE CALIFORNIAN, THE WEEKENDER & EL MONTE BULLETIN WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6, 2018
AN AMERICAN PRINT MEDIA PUBLICATION
‘Nobody Is Left’: Guatemala Volcano Ravaged Entire Families
ESCUINTLA, Guatemala— Lilian Hernandez wept as she spoke the names of aunts, uncles, cousins, her grandmother and two great-grandchildren—36 family members in all—missing and presumed dead in the explosion of Guatemala’s Volcano of Fire. “My cousins Ingrid, Yomira, Paola, Jennifer, Michael, Andrea and Silvia, who was just 2-yearsold,” the distraught woman said—a litany that brought into sharp relief the scope of a disaster for which the final death toll is far from clear. What was once a collection of verdant canyons, hillsides and farms resembled a moonscape of ash, rock and debris on Tuesday in the aftermath of the fast-moving avalanche of super-heated muck that roared into the tightly knit villages on the mountain’s flanks, devastating entire families. Two days after the eruption, the terrain was still too hot in many places for rescue crews to search for bodies or—increasingly unlikely with each passing day— survivors. By afternoon a new column of smoke was rising from the mountain and Guatemala’s disaster agency said volcanic material was descending its south side, prompting an evacuation order and the closure of a nearby national highway. Rescuers, police and journalists hurried to leave the area as a siren wailed and loudspeakers blared, “Evacuate!” On Sunday, when the volcano exploded in a massive cloud of ash and molten rock, Hernandez said her brother and sister ran to check on their 70-year-old grandmother on the family’s plot of land in the village of San Miguel Los Lotes. “She said that it was God’s will, she was not going to flee,” Hernandez said. “She was unable to walk. It was hard for her to get around.” Her brother and sister made it to safety, but their grandmother has not been seen again. Hernandez and her husband, Francisco Ortiz, survived because they moved out of Los Lotes just two months ago to begin a new life on a small plot of land. The couple has been staying at a Mormon church in the nearby city of Escuintla and going to a
Pushed by Voters, GOP Moderates Rebel on Immigration
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By Alan Fram and Nicholas Riccardi
AP Photo/Oliver de Ros A firefighter carries the body of a child recovered near the Volcan de Fuego, which means in Spanish Volcano of Fire, in Escuintla, Guatemala, Monday, June 4, 2018. morgue there to await news. So far the official death toll of at least 70 only the body of one relative, her was sure to climb and fears spread 28-year-old cousin, Cesar Gudiel that anyone still stuck in the buried Escalante, has been recovered and houses was dead and would remain identified. entombed there. “The people ended up buried in At a roadblock, Joel Gonzalez nearly 3 meters of lava,” Ortiz said. complained that police wouldn’t “Nobody is left there.” let him through to see his family’s Other families experienced similar tragedies. “Mr. President, my family is As President Jimmy Morales toured the area and missing. Send a helicopter met with survivors on Monday, a woman begged him to to throw water over them help her loved ones in Los because they are burning.” Lotes. “Mr. President, my family is missing. Send a helicopter to throw water over house in the village of San Juan them because they are burning,” Alotenango, where his 76-year-old she said. “I have three children, a father lay buried in ash along with grandchild, and all my brothers, four other relatives. my mother, all my family are there. “They say they are going to leave ... More than 20 have disappeared.” them buried there, and we are not The fast-moving flows with going to know if it’s really them,” temperatures as high as 1,300 de- the 39-year-old farmer said. “They grees Fahrenheit (700 Celsius) and are taking away our opportunity to hot ash and volcanic gases that can say goodbye.” cause rapid asphyxiation caught A spokesman for Guatemala’s many off guard. disaster agency, Conred, said that On Tuesday, it was clear that once it reaches 72 hours after the
Busboy Who Held Dying RFK Speaks of Lingering Pain By Russell Contreras LOS ANGELES—Juan Romero was a teenage Mexican immigrant working as a hotel busboy 50 years ago when he was thrust into one of the seminal moments of the decade.
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OMERO had just stopped to shake the hand of Robert F. Kennedy on the night of his victory in the California presidential primary on June 5, 1968 when a gunman shot the New York senator in the head. Romero held a wounded Kennedy as he lay on the ground, struggling to keep the senator's bleeding head from hitting the cold floor of the Ambassador Hotel kitchen. For almost a half-century, Romero blamed himself,
wondering if he could have done more and often asked, what if Kennedy hadn't stopped for that brief moment to shake my hand? The torment ate at Romero so much he fled Los Angeles and resettled in seclusion in Wyoming. Today, nearly 50 years after that tragic early morning, the 67-year-old Romero doesn't bear the same guilt, thanks in part to the support of RFK fans who say the former busboy was an example of the type of people Kennedy sought to help in making racial equality and civil rights a cornerstone of his life's work. Romero grants few interviews but recently made himself available for the Netflix documentary “Bobby Kennedy for President,” StoryCorps and others to talk about the hope RFK inspired that remains with him 50 years
eruption, there will be little chance of finding anyone alive. “We don’t rule out the possibility of some person alive, but the condition in which the homes are makes that possibility pretty unlikely,” said the spokesman, Juan Sanchez, adding that some of the ash was still at temperatures between 750 and 1,300 degrees Fahrenheit (400 and 700 degrees Celsius). In the devastated town of El Rodeo, gray soot coated trees and homes and an ashcovered deer lay dead in the debris. Rescuers wearing hard hats, masks and goggles used shovels to dig through homes, unearthing at least one body burned beyond recognition. Amid the destruction, there was one glimmer of hope: The rescue of a black-and-white dog found alive in a home where four people lay dead. “He is called Rambo,” said volunteer firefighter Sergio Vazquez, who carried the dog on his shoul-
OMESTEAD, Fla.—Cipriano Garza says Rep. Carlos Curbelo is “a decent man, a family man.” He lauds the South Florida Republican for defiantly pushing his party to protect young “Dreamer” immigrants from deportation. Founder of a nonprofit that helps farm workers, Garza happily hosted Curbelo at a reception honoring high school graduates last week at the massive Homestead-Miami Speedway. But his praise came with a warning about this November's elections. “He better do what's right for the community,” said Garza, 70, himself a former migrant laborer. “If not, he can lose.” Across the country—from California's lush Central Valley to suburban Denver to Curbelo's district of strip malls, farms and the laid-back Florida Keys—moderate Republicans like Curbelo are under hefty pressure to buck their party's hardline stance on immigration. After years of watching their conservative colleagues in safe districts refuse to budge, the GOP middle is fighting back—mindful that a softer position may be necessary to save their jobs and GOP control of the House. “Members who have priorities and feel passionate about issues can't sit back and expect leaders” to address them, Curbelo said. “Because it doesn't
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n Immigration, see page 2
When I listened to Robert Kennedy, I felt he wasn't talking at us, but talking to you personally. Juan Romero
later. “I still have the fire burning inside of me,” Romero told The Associated Press. Born in the small town of Mazatan, Mexico, Romero moved to Baja California until his family received permission to bring him to the United States as a 10-year-old. The
family lived in poor East Los Angeles and he attended Roosevelt High School the year that Chicano students started organizing walkouts to protest discrimination against Mexican-American students. But Romero's stepfather “ruled with an iron hand,” and the teen feared he'd face
trouble at home if he took part. Instead, Romero got a job at the Ambassador Hotel as a dishwasher and later a busboy. At the time, the young Romero didn't understand politics. Yet he knew that President John F. Kennedy had traveled to Mexico and saw footage of Robert Kennedy
visiting Mexican-American farm workers in California. When Robert Kennedy announced he would run for president, Romero got caught up in the excitement. “When I listened to Robert Kennedy, I felt he wasn't talking at us, but talking to n Busboy, see page 8