Things I Learned About My Father

Since writing this blog, I’ve learned two new things about my father. When I wrote about one of our popular metaphors for working here -- rowing in a slave ship -- my father emailed me to say he had been in Los Angeles in 1959 and saw Ben Hur at the Egyptian Theater.

He wrote, “Ben Hur was one of the best and most beautiful movies I ever saw, you were not even born. I saw it in the Egyptian Theatre in the early 60's and I don't think I will ever forget that rowing scene. In reading your post, I could hear the rhythmical sounds of the drums. However you are not condemned for life, only for one year, so keep on rowing and very soon, like Prince Juda Ben-Hur, you will return home victoriously.”

I was so touched by what he wrote. He knew exactly what I meant by evoking that scene from Ben Hur. Here, we often say, “row well,” to each other as a way of commiserating our long work hours. More importantly, he reminded that my experience here isn’t permanent although it seemed so when I first arrived. I had no idea he had seen the movie and I hope that when I get home we can see it together.

When I wrote about going to church in the International Zone and that we recited the prayer to Saint Michael at the end of every mass, my father emailed me to tell me he recited the same prayer in Spanish while growing up in the small city of Cananea.

He wrote, “I was touched by what you wrote on St. Michael The Archangel. This, as far as I can remember, was one of the first prayers I learned when I was a little boy in Cananea, and of course it was in Spanish:

San Miguel Arcangel, defiéndenos en la lucha. Se nuestro amparo contra las acechanzas y perversidades del demonio. Que Dios manifieste sobre el Su poder, es nuestra humilde súplica; y tú o Principe Celestial, con el poder que Dios te ha concedido, arroja a Satanás y a los demás espiritus malignos que vagan por el mundo para las perdición de las almas.

He also told me this prayer was recited, also at the end of mass and in English, when we used to go to church as a young family in Downey, California. He found it interesting that this prayer from his childhood was recited at this church in the United States. He also told me that when he visited hist long time friend, who is also my God Father, in a remote village in Mexico, the local parish was called Saint Michael the Archangel. Lastly, he told me that on a recent trip to Hawaii with my mother, the local Catholic Church was called Saint Michael by the Sea.

I had no idea Saint Michael would play such an important role -- in both our lives.