La Verne Avenue Can’t Get Away From Persian Gulf

Every time the Kitty Hawk is in the news, hearts beat a little faster on La Verne Avenue.

The aircraft carrier is in the Persian Gulf, having arrived there shortly after Christmas from the coast of Somalia. The Kitty Hawk steamed in as a front-line example of the United States’ willingness to use force in its latest showdown with Iraq over enforcement of a “no-fly zone” in the southern part of that country.

Among the sailors abroad is 21-year-old Timothy Reyes, who grew up on La Verne.

Seems this tiny street in East L.A. can’t get away from Saddam Hussein or El Golfo Persico .

Remember La Verne? It was a focal point of pride for many Latinos two years ago when it was reported that a single block of the street--between Whittier and Olympic boulevards--had five sons, including Timothy Reyes, in the Persian Gulf War zone. To its blue-collar Chicano residents, La Verne contributed more than its fair share to the U.S. effort against Saddam and it was proud of that fact.

That pride prompted ceremonies and parades staged by local Latino dignitaries. Strangers from as far away as Iowa arrived to shake hands with the parents of the La Verne Five. Television cameras became as commonplace as the street’s barking dogs. U.S. flags, signs and patriotic bunting decorated the street.

With Saddam and the Persian Gulf back in the news, I decided to return to La Verne.

Unlike two years ago, there is little flag-waving as the U.S. and the Iraqi strongman exchange tough words these days.

“La Verne is getting used to this military thing,” one resident pointed out.

Steve Reyes, Timothy’s father, is treating his son’s involvement in this current episode with studied casualness. “I don’t think about it as much as I did two years ago,” he said. “Then, I was charting the position of Timmy’s ship every day.”

Although the prospect of imminent U.S. military action has dimmed for the moment, the worrying has not disappeared.

“You don’t think Saddam will do something crazy?” Rachel Reyes, Timothy’s mother, asked the other day. “I hope Timmy will be safe, but you never know.”

She stopped folding laundry in her modest living room to contemplate the unthinkable. “If Saddam was here,” she said finally, “I’d punch him in the nose.”

On La Verne, the small front-yard gardens and noisy kids are still plentiful. Neighbors still gossip about the latest news. And, there’s an occasional U.S. flag on display.

Of the five La Verne boys who were in the Gulf War, only Reyes, who dreams of being a Navy SEAL, is in the thick of it this time. Like the others, Reyes came out of combat unscathed but longing for a less adventuresome assignment. He transferred from the aircraft carrier Saratoga, which was in the midst of the air war with Saddam, to the Kitty Hawk. “This should be safer,” he told his parents.

“Not!” as his buddies on nearby Fraser Street would say.

The parents of the other four come by occasionally to inquire about the Kitty Hawk sailor. “We still say our prayers in meetings in our home like we did two years ago,” Rachel Reyes said.

Two of the boys, Army Spec. 4 William Martinez, 22, and Marine Ramon Sandoval Jr., 24, are with their units stateside. The two others, Manuel Castro and Adrian Yracheta, have been discharged and are at home.

What struck me most about the visit was the quiet acceptance on La Verne that it once again had residents in a trouble spot overseas.

“It’s not a big deal to us that our boys go into the military and do their part,” said La Verne resident Andres Gutierrez, whose two sons served in Vietnam.

“There’s no shame in that. People here think that the U.S. soldiers over there will do a good job and come back safely. But if something happens, the mijos of La Verne will fight. Haven’t they always?”

Said another resident, “There are a lot of La Vernes all over the place. We just do our part. To us, serving in the military is just as normal as speaking English or Spanish.”

La Verne is continuing the military tradition that many Chicano families have of sending their young off to war. Just about every family on the street had a brother, son or uncle in Guadalcanal, Korea, Vietnam or the Gulf.

Rachel Reyes was finishing her laundry when she stopped to mull over La Verne’s place in U.S. military history.

“Our boys are doing their best for us and for our country,” she said. “We’re just people from East L.A. who like living here. But that Saddam . . . “

She was making a fist.