Two annual social events reward guests fascinated with Austin’s past. One luncheon benefits Preservation Austin, the other the Austin History Center.
During its recent midday gathering at the Driskill Hotel, Preservation Austin honored, among others, those who restored two historic buildings at Camp Mabry.
Soon after that, historian Chantal McKenzie gave me a tour of the Texas Military Forces base and its structures that go back to the 1890s. Expect a full report in a future story.
Backers of the Austin History Center will gather Feb. 6 for their always enlightening Angelina Eberly Luncheon, also at the Driskill. Not long ago, the center hosted a reception for the opening of the exhibit, “Austin’s Mexico: A Forgotten Downtown Neighborhood.”
The Austin native, 83, was tenderly profiled by my American-Statesman colleague Brad Buchholz in 2009. Sifuentes spoke then about the power of the American Dream. He grew up in rigidly segregated Austin among even poorer Hispanic children, yet he excelled at school. He, his children and grandchildren have achieved singular success.
His stories about his grandfather, who lived in “Mexico,” or as he calls it, “Mexican Town,” made me want to know more. Antonio Bautista Sifuentes had immigrated from Saltillo, Coahuila, in 1910, his grandson told me one cold day at Progress Coffee, a stone’s throw from his childhood home at 503 Medina St.
“He was a curmudgeon,” Sifuentes says of his grandfather, who first lived in the hard-luck Mexico near Republic Square. “He was unhappy. I think it was because of the living conditions in the First Ward — poor housing, poor sanitation, no services and rampant racism.”
Austin’s Mexico was the original site for Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church in the district near Shoal Creek’s mouth. Sifuentes’ memories of his father’s former house at 503 W. Fifth St. are vague.
“I can see a porch,” he says. “In those days all houses had porches. I can see an automobile in the front yard. My Uncle Babe loved cars and was always finding a way to borrow him.”
Despite years of research — including a trip to Spain to see the castle, river and town that share is family’s name, spelled there Cifuentes — Sifuentes has never discovered what his grandfather did in the old country. He was a strict, formal man who was proud of his ancestry.
“He never accepted the fact that in this country, up until the day he died, he was a second-class citizen,” he says. “He didn’t want to behave like a second-class citizen.”
Sifuentes’ fastidious grandfather never left the house without dressing in a coat, tie and hat. He customarily tipped his hat to passers-by.
“When you meet someone, look at him in the eye,” his grandfather told him. “And continue looking at him in the eye. If you don’t, it’s a sign of disrespect.”
His grandfather wasn’t a big talker, but he asked good questions.
“He’d nod,” Sifuentes says. “People said he was a great conversationalist. My grandma would say: ‘Conversationalist? You can’t get a word out of him.’”
When, in the 1920s, the community’s church was moved to East Austin, partly at the behest of city leaders, Sifuentes’ grandfather helped move the church bell.
“My grandpa had all kinds of tools for plumbing, carpentry, block and tackle,” Sifuentes says. “I would hear stories of how they used block and tackle, brought the bell down, drove it over to Lydia Street, then hauled it up.”
Despite the circumstances, his grandfather, who died when Sifuentes was 7, relished the move from the First Ward. He landed near the corner of Congress Avenue and East Cesar Chavez Street, where Sifuentes was born, then near Red River and West Eighth streets, in a house with a basement that became Jaime’s Mexican Village and then Pelon’s.
Over the course of five generations in Austin, the Sifuentes family witnessed the gradual end to segregation and their eventual advances through education. Perhaps Sifuentes’ grandfather foresaw that future when his first grandchild, Ben, was born.
“My grandmother said he changed,” Sifuentes says. “He was so happy. He spoiled me. He gave me the Congress Avenue Bridge. He pointed at the State Capitol and said ‘That is yours.’ He was a very proud man.”
At the Austin History Center, you can see a painting of Antonio Bautista Sifuentes and a photograph of Benito Sifuentes, Ben’s father, as a boy. The exhibit runs through March 10.