Fermin Valdez: Memories of Costilla
On a hot summer day in 1962, my dad, Fermin Valdez, and I were hoeing our sweet corn field. With temperatures climbing over 90 degrees, my dad said, “Hijito vamos pal alamo a descansar y beber agua, esta muy caliente.” As we walked to the tall cottonwood, he said, “Let’s sit over here in the shade.” We sat on a bench, wiped the dripping sweat from our faces and necks, then he took a drink of water from his thermos…