“Everywhere we went my mother would make sure that they enrolled us in school.”
Lourdes Villanueva tells her son Roger about growing up in a family of migrant workers.
Recorded in Tampa, FL, in partnership with Redlands Christian Migrant Association.
Click here for more from Historias.
“She still thought I was in Iraq.”
Hector Vega and his wife, Leopoldina, remember the day Hector returned home from war.
Recorded in New York, NY. Click here for more from Historias.
“We saw the searchlight from the patrol boat...”
Gustavo Mestas talks to his daughter, Ileana, about escaping from Cuba to the U.S. in 1963.
Recorded in Georgetown, DE. Click here for more from Historias.
“They would allow potential parents to check you out like a library book.”
Ray Martinez remembers growing up in an orphanage during the 1950s.
Recorded in Fort Collins, CO. Click here for more from Historias.
“As he's walking away, I'm like, 'Hey, you forgot something...'”
Julio Diaz remembers being robbed on a subway platform in the Bronx.
Recorded in New York, NY. Click here for more from Historias.
“A friend of ours wanted us to be together in a scene...”
Miriam Cruz-Colon and her husband Oscar Colon remember meeting as acting students in 1959.
Recorded in New York, NY, in partnership with the Hispanic Organization of Latin Actors (HOLA).. Click here for more from Historias.
“I would see tons of doctors...”
Gloria Mengual tells her partner, Charles Gregory, about growing up with epilepsy.
Recorded in Hartford, CT. Click here for more from Historias.
“He said, 'When the border patrol changes shifts, you're going to run.'”
Blanca Alvarez tells her daughter, Connie, about crossing the border from Mexico to the United States.
Recorded in Los Angeles, CA. Click here for more from Historias.
“So I ran back to the bus, and I said, 'Sweetie, your restaurant is right here.'”
New York City bus operator Ronald Ruiz remembers one of his passengers on the City Island line in the Bronx.
Recorded in New York, NY. Click here for more from Historias.
“He went somewhere; you could see it. And there was no pain. There's a quiet dignity in there.”
Jesus Melendez telling Frank Perez about poet Pedro Pietri's final moments in an air ambulance.
Recorded in New York, NY. Click here for more from Historias.
© 2012, StoryCorps
All rights reserved
Terms of Service
Privacy Policy
Search/Sitemap
