The death of an immigrant

Migrant community bands together after loss of beloved young disc jockey

Sandra Baltazar Martínez | The New Mexican

1/5/2009 - 1/6/09

Emmanuel Tarango Galindo was always the center of attention. The only male sibling of the family, he lived a life full of laughter, pranks and aspirations until the day he died.

Emmanuel's dream was to become a famous musician, and he was in the process of starting his own norteño band. Several times he walked into the house and announced — convincingly — he had a scheduled appearance with Don Francisco, a renowned host on an entertainment show broadcast on Univision.

Other times, he would surprise his mother, María Elena Galindo, 46, while she cooked, and he would tickle her until she dropped to the floor.

His family called him "Manny"; his nickname was El Morro, or Young Boy, and people in the community knew him as DJ Morro for his work as a disc jockey.

Every Christmas, he placed at least a half-dozen gifts under the Christmas tree in huge gift boxes. But those large boxes might contain only a single pair of socks or maybe trousers. The gift tags read "From Emmanuel to Manny" and "From El Morro to Emmanuel."

"Oh, he made us laugh so much. We made him open his gifts last because he had so many. He was the joy and the entertainment of the night," María Elena Galindo said in Spanish.

But Emmanuel, 25, didn't make it to the annual family gathering this Christmas. He died in a traffic accident Dec. 15, hours after he had called his mother from Denver, letting her know he had another party to play at and wasn't going to get home until the end of the week. But for some unknown reason, he decided to drive home after all on a snowy day. In New Mexico, his parents said, he hit a semitrailer and his car exploded, killing him.

When news of his death spread throughout Santa Fe, the Mexican immigrant community mobilized.

During visitation hours before the funeral, at least 400 people showed up to pay their respects, said Bob Clifford, the funeral director at Santa Fe Funeral Options & Memorial Gardens.

The day of the funeral, Dec. 20, friends, family and strangers pooled their resources to organize a benefit dance at Club Tequila off Cerrillos Road. The response was so great that club security had to turn patrons away. The cover charge was $10 a person, and the dance ultimately earned thousands of dollars, which helped the family pay a portion of the funeral costs.

"We are very happy and thankful to everyone who helped," said Joel Tarango, 47, Emmanuel's father. "It's painful, but at the same time, it makes us happy because (Emmanuel) helped many people, and I knew they weren't going to leave him alone."

The fact that the Latino community pulled together to help someone during a time of need is not out of the ordinary, said Carlos Vélez-Ibáñez, an anthropology professor and chairman of the Department of Transborder Chicana/o and Latina/o Studies at Arizona State University.

"The basis is confianza (trust) and reciprocity. It doesn't have to do with citizenship. It has to do with culture," he said. "Reciprocity begins at the home. For the most part, Mexican and Anglo children are not raised any differently between the time they're newborns to 6 months. But the difference is that a Mexican child is in the arms of many others ... and when he grows up — what he unconsciously learned in those six months — that Mexican child expects to form more relationships with more people."

It is almost instinctive for people to form an unspoken alliance that becomes "today for you, tomorrow for me," Vélez-Ibáñez said.

The urge to help comes as second nature, especially because immigrants know they are away from their native homes and often are separated from their families.

"In a funeral ... people are coming together, even if they don't know each other. All they know is that one of theirs died — it's part of that confianza, the reciprocal systems that Mexicans are a part of," Vélez-Ibáñez said.

Hector and Virginia Franco were a part of the community that helped the Tarango family. The couple owns Hector Franco Productions, a video and photography business, and they partnered with DJ Morro for parties. For the funeral visitation, the Francos printed remembrance photographs of Emmanuel for his family and the other mourners.

Last summer, a 15-year-old girl died, said Virginia Franco, and Emmanuel, without knowing the girl's family, contacted them to organize a benefit dance and raise funds.

"He also made the parties fun. I don't remember any client being unhappy at the end of the night," Hector Franco said.

Martín Domínguez, a friend of Emmanuel's, remembers the times they worked on charity dances to help those in need. "It's painful because we used to organize dances to help people, but this time, I had to organize one for him," Domínguez said.

Latino government officials are woven into this community. The Mexican Consulate in Albuquerque said one of its priorities was to help Mexicans when someone dies.

Several years back, the Mexican government established a repatriation fund to help families ship their relative's body to Mexico. Even though the Tarango family did not request that service, the government's help is available, said Vice Consul Daniel Domínguez Cantú. In 2008, the Mexican Consulate helped return 80 bodies, he said.

In fact, the consulate recently asked funeral homes in Albuquerque to establish a network of services that can be offered to Mexicans living here.

Oscar Padilla Lam, the general consul of Guatemala in Arizona, said his consulate also helps Guatemalan families repatriate bodies. In 2008, 29 bodies were flown to Guatemala, including a man from Albuquerque.

But the Tarango family decided to keep Emmanuel in Santa Fe; all of his immediate relatives live here.

His mother said Christmas and other family fiestas will never be the same. But, Galindo added, "for me, he has not died. He is at work and hasn't gotten home."

Contact Sandra Baltazar Martínez at 986-3062 or editora@lvnm.net.