María Perez Molinar. Amá. Our Mother. Abuelita. Our great-grandmother. Our present. Our past. Our future. Our history. Johnstown history. Like the passing of Thurman Hays, Doña Santanita Córdoba or Mary Martínez, the life of María Pérez Molinar represents the history of Johnstown, the history of the Colony. Amá has been the center root of a family tree that has branched out and flourished in Johnstown, that has included families like the Molinares, the Riveras, the Holguines, the Cantús and countless others. Today we are gathered here to honor and to pay our deepest gratitude and respect to María Pérez Molinar for all that she symbolized in our family, in our own personal lives and in the town history of Johnstown.

In honoring Amá's ninety-six years of life, a long life of beauty surrounded by the memory of her deceased husband, Saúl, her eight sons and daughters as well as her more than 300 grandchildren and great-grandchildren, it is important to remember that Amá's life story symbolizes freedom. Americanism. And like those who died for our country on Sept. 11th, the life of María Pérez Molinar illustrates our search as a nation for the pursuit of justice and freedom. It was during the height of the Mexican Revolution., a time of intense political oppression in Mexico, that young María Pérez would flee the village of her birth in Salamanca, Guanajuato, in the middle of the night with her parents, Tomás and Dolores, and an older sister, Martina. Amá's father--Tomás--wanted freedom for his daughters from political oppression and oppresive regimes. In an interview, Amá told me her father, Tomás, had made the following comment in reference to Pancho Villa and other Mexican revolutionaries of the time who were taking young girls away from their families: " De que se las lleven a mis muchachas, mejor me las llevo yo."

And times were indeed hard for young María Pérez. War was raging around her in Mexico, hunger was rampant, yet María would flee through the mountains that night with her family to the El Paso, Texas/Mexican border in search of freedom and liberty. Amá would recount her entire life story to me one year when we visited in California, how her father later died of pneumonia, leaving her mother, Mamá Dolores, behind with two daughters, all those hardships they endured alone in Juárez, Mexico, " Me acuerdo que anduvimos por las calles asustadas y muertas de hambre hasta que nos recogió una señora," Amá said, recounting how things got better after Martina married our tío Juan. Then Amá recounted her beautiful love story--the night she met Apá at the local "feria" or carnaval as she was riding the ferris wheel. " Nos habíamos subido a la rueda de fortuna cuando me fijo abajo, un joven de piel morena y pelo negro nos apuntaba," Amá nostalgically told me.

Saúl Molinar would change Amá's destiny forever. Young María fell in love with Saúl that night, a love that would transcend time and space, a deep love that would take her from Juárez to the United States where she and her husband, Saúl, would live in different states, enduring more hardships while they worked in the fields. And it wasn't until 1942 that Amá and Apá would finally settle in Johnstown, Colorado, in the Colony they both loved, in the Colony where Amá unselfishly gave all of her love to those of us who adored her "como una reina."

María Pérez Molinar's love for Apá represents a once in a lifetime love that would produce nine children--Saúl Jr., Arturo, Francisca, Chonito--the baby Amá never forgot who died young--Dolores, Chuy, Esperanza, Aurora, and her youngest, Alicia. And even after Apá's death on Oct. 2nd, 1982, Amá continued to love him intensely, with every living breath, waiting almost 20 years to join Apá on October 1, 2002.

As we gather here today to bid our final farewells, we should all pay tribute to Amá's life story, for the humble life of María Pérez Molinar represents the life of countless other proud Americans whose parents came from Europe and other countries, escaping socio-economic oppression in pursuit of a better life for their children, in pursuit of freedom--the freedom to live and die peacefully in Johnstown, Colorado, surrounded by family and friends.

Amá's story is indeed our nation's story. Amá's raíces are our proud raíces. Amá's life is an important fragment of American history, of Johnstown history, of Molinar history, a history we should never forget. Each of us gathered here today should recount Amá's story to our children and to our children's children and to their children as well. Yet, the impact Amá leaves on our lives is indeed impossible to fully describe. Amá is the face I see when I look in the mirror each day. Amá is the face of your children. Impossible to fully capture Amá's strength, beauty and legacy--her countless memories, thoughts, words, images like that of Amá making tortillas in my poem, "Chicana," or the recipe for "mole" that Aunt Hope recently shared with me, proudly stating, "It was Amá's recipe." Memories of Uncle Arthur's loud booming voice as he walked into the kitchen searching for a taco of Amá's homemade food. Amá had such a giving nature that she always made food for everyone and anyone. She worried if someone didn't eat. But perhaps Amá's legacy and greatness, the love we all have for her, is best reflected in the verses of the song I wrote for her, a song I promised we would all to sing to her forever :

María Molinar es mi abuelita.
La quiero con todo el corazón.
María Molinar es mi abuelita.
La quiero con todo el alma.
Y el día que ella muera
jamás la olvidarán.
María, María eres eterna....

Sí, María Pérez Molinar nunca morirá. Aquí la cargaremos todos en nuestros corazones y nuestras almas, en nuestras raíces.

Sí, Amá, Usted es eterna.