Clarence J. Garcia, Sr.

Clarence J. Garcia Sr. 87, peacefully passed on to our Lord at his home in Winchester, California on Saturday, July 18, 2015, where he has resided with his wife Mary, daughter Liz, her husband John and granddaughter, Taylor for the past 5 years.

He was born in Kingsburg, California to Manuel J. and Lillian Garcia on July 20, 1927 and raised by his Stepfather, Joe B. Perry and Lillian Perry. He has been married to the love of his life, Mary Nunes, for 64 years.

Clarence served in the U.S. Army and was stationed in Germany during the Korean Conflict. He was involved in boxing sponsored by the Hanford CYO Athletic Club and was known as “Clarence, The Wildman Garcia”, where he participated in boxing matches with his brothers Gordon and George. He was the Secretary of the Flamingo Portuguese Soccer team in 1985 and was involved with the team for several years. Although working in both the dairy business and farming, he was quite adept at construction and other handyman tasks. He was very good at overseeing and directing projects and could always be counted upon to lend a hand when asked. He was a strong willed man with a big heart, particularly when it came to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. After living in Hanford for the majority of his life, Clarence and Mary pulled up their roots and moved to Winchester with their daughter Liz and her family. Reading, planting and working in his garden quickly became his favorite pastimes. For the past 3 years he enjoyed going to the park with his wife Mary and loving care giver and honorary daughter, Irma Cabrera, who took them both on drives through wine and horse country in Temecula, and a weekly Saturday visit to Harveston Lake and In and Out burger.

Clarence is preceded in death by his brothers; George Garcia of Fresno and Gordon Garcia from Hanford and his son; Dino also from Banning.

He is survived by his wife; Mary A. (Nunes) Garcia, son; Clarence Garcia Jr., two daughters; Liz Brenner and her husband John of Winchester, CA and Alice M. Moore and her husband David of Alaska. His 7 grandchildren; Matthew A. Moore and his wife Alicia, Joshua A. Moore and his wife Megan, Nathan A. Moore and his wife Erin, Megan E. Moore all of Alaska, Lisa Petty and her husband Richard of Hanford, Sandy Olmstead and her husband David of Bakersfield and Taylor M. Brenner of Winchester. 7 Great-Grandchildren; Mackenzie and Adam Petty of Hanford, Marley Olmstead of Bakersfield, Noah and Emma Moore, Blake and Tenley Moore and Bettsy Moore all of Alaska, his brother; Ralph Perry and sister; Madalyn Jacinto as well as numerous nieces and nephews.

There will be a recitation of The Holy Rosary on Monday, July 27, 2015 at 6:00 p.m. with Visitation from 5:00 – 7:00 p.m. at People’s Funeral Chapel; 501 N. Douty Street, Hanford, California 93230 (559) 584-5591. A Mass of Christian Burial will be held on Tuesday, July 28, 2015 at 10:00 a.m. at St. Brigid Catholic Church; 1000 N. Douty Street, Hanford, CA 93230 (559) 582-2533 with Burial to follow at Calvary Cemetery; 11680 S. 10th Avenue, Hanford CA 93230 (559) 584-3937.

In lieu of flowers donations may be made in Clarence’s memory to: Cambridge Hospice; 9229 Utica Avenue, Ste. 100, Rancho Cucamonga, CA

91730.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life”. John 3:16.

Family and Friends are invited to view Clarence’s legacy at www.peoplesfuneralchapel.com and send condolences to the family.

Services are under the direction of People’s Funeral Chapel.

PEOPLE’S FUNERAL CHAPEL

501 N. Douty Street

Hanford, CA 93230

559-584-5591

www.peoplesfuneralchapel.com

Clarence Garcia Eulogy

I’m John Brenner, Liz’s husband, and I’d like to say a few words about my father in law Clarence Garcia. I have had the distinct privilege of knowing dad for the last thirteen years, and during that time the experiences and conversations we shared have given me some insight into the man that Clarence Garcia was.

Dad was born on July 20th, 1927. He grew up in Kings County during a time when life was much more difficult than it is today. Conditions were often harsh, school was a luxury and hard work was a given. Dad overcame the many obstacles which he encountered as a young man through hard work and gritty determination.

As a boy he me t Mary Nunes and was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on her. They began dating when they were teenagers and before dad enlisted in the Army in 1950 he asked mom to marry him when he returned from Germany. In 1951 he returned to Hanford and on May 18th of that year they were married in an early morning ceremony at Saint Brigids Catholic Church. Their first child Dino, named after dad’s best friend in the army, was born in 1953. Clarence Jr. came along in 1954, followed by Elizabeth in 1958 and Alice in 1960.

Dad worked hard to provide for his family over the years that followed. He worked in the dairy industry, becoming adept at managing cows, and eventually operated his own small dairy on Fargo Avenue. He did construction and became a master in the areas of concrete and framing. He raised sheep, chickens goats and cattle. He built the house in the front part of the property on Fargo Avenue and moved his family into it. He was truly a “jack of all trades” and while his bank account may not have reflected it, he was rich in the things that truly matter. He made sure that there was always food on the table for his family, and he was as good a friend as one could ask for. He was always available to help out friends and family, when they were in need. He was instrumental in the planning and construction of St. John’s Hall, and he was a fixture in the Hanford Youth Soccer League.

When his children grew older and began having children of their own, he and Mary made trips to see their grandchildren and always welcomed their visits to the house on Fargo. Barbecues and games in the yard were the order of the day. Dino presided over 4th of July fireworks in the driveway, while dad grilled tri-tip in the backyard.

While I was not present for these earlier events, I do have a dad and tri-tip story to share. During my first visit to house on Fargo I was volunteered by Liz, who was then my girlfriend, to grill the tri-tip for the barbecue that Saturday afternoon. We picked up the tri-tip at the store, drove back to the house, and I had no sooner unwrapped the meat in the kitchen when dad came in and asked “what are you gonna do with that tri-tip?” Being incredibly nervous, and not wanting to say the wrong thing to my girlfriend’s father I started to stammer something about spices, but before I could reply he said “Go out to the fridge in the laundry room and get two cans of beer”. I went and got the beer. “Pour that beer over the tri-tip”. I did as I was told. “Now get the garlic salt and pepper and rub it into the meat.” I did. “Now cover it with foil and put it out in the fridge”. Having gotten through the meat preparation I thought I was doing ok. I went out and got the grill set up in the back yard. When it came time to cook, I got the tri-tip from the fridge and went out back, only to find dad seated in a chair by the grill. He said “go get us a couple of beers” and over the next hour or so he proceeded to tell me exactly how high to set the flame, when to turn the meat, when to baste with beer and when the meat was done. As I said, he was a jack of all trades. In between directions on how to grill the meat, he regaled me with stories, stories of dairies, horses, bulls, sheep, donkeys and dogs. He told me stories of crops and construction, of cars and trucks, and of family and friends. These were the things that defined his life.

Over the years these stories were repeated to me countless times, most often over the dinner table, and I never tired of hearing them. I heard of how Mary was the love of his life. I came to know Brandy, the best dog ever, and Tonto the horse who threw Liz, breaking her pelvis, when she was a young girl. I heard about Alice’s accomplishments in the field of pharmacology, and how Clarence Jr. had become a master machinist. I was always reminded of how smart Dino was and of how proud dad was of all Liz’s accomplishments in the business world. He always spoke highly of his brothers and sisters and was happiest whenever extended family would stop by to visit. His grandchildren and great-grandchildren were his pride and joy and he valued their visits above all others, The common thread in all of these discussions was the love dad had for his family, his desire for them to succeed, and his pride in all of their accomplishments.

I treasure the time I was able to spend with dad, and take comfort in the knowledge that he had accepted Jesus Christ as his savior, and has gone on to be with our Holy Father in Heaven.

Hey Dad,

It is me your baby girl, Alice. Man do I miss you. You always worked so...hard. From the time you were a child you worked on your step Dad's ranch and learned a solid work ethic. Following your freshman year of high school, Avo removed you from school to start working full time milking cows. When I was real young we went over to Avo and Rosie’s to say the rosary in a Novena for several days. Mom would write letters to Avo’s family in the Azores in Portuguese and Avo would send foot lockers of clothes and supplies to his less fortunate family members. Over the years we joined the Perry, Garcia and Jacinto families for Easter picnics, baseball, and egg hunts at Burris Park. I remember as child going along with you to various jobs, riding tractors with you, playing in ditches while you irrigated, sitting in your truck after school at the Semas's doing homework while you milked cows, and sometimes helping feed animals; your love of animals transferred to me. We raised sheep, hogs, chickens, goats, cattle, rabbits, and of course, Tonto, the horse you bought for me. I remember when Tonto bucked Liz off and you road the hell out of him because you were so pissed off. You had Liz walk about a 1/4 mile home from the Silva's dirt road to our house. Later that evening after you found she had a broken pelvis. You walked into Liz's room, kissed her goodnight, and said "I love you" to her. You did not use those words very often. What you did do was worked hard at everything you did from: milking cows, irrigating, pouring cement, construction, minor electrical or whatever you had to provide for our family of six. We always had a roof over our heads, food on the table, discipline to keep us in line. I remember when Clarence flipped and totaled his vehicle. When he got home you made him dig out back to make sure he wasn't hurt. For Dino you built a greenhouse out of reclaimed wood from old houses that had been torn down. You and Dino butted heads a lot because you were both stubborn as shit. You never quite accepted or understood the muscular dystrophy he had developed in his teens. You were especially tough on the boys because that is the type of discipline you knew.

I can always remember you going out of your way to help friends and family in need. When my old Datsun B-210 broke down, as it often did, I did not call a tow truck. I called, my Daddy. You would pull up like a knight in shining armor in your old Ford truck and either, fix the problem or tow me to where the problem could be fixed. You taught me how to drive stick shift, ride a horse, skin a rabbit (which I did an instructional speech on my first year of college), slaughter chickens, hogs and lambs. Those are skills not too many people have anymore. I learned how to flood gopher holes and wait at the other end with a sturdy shovel and smash those suckers as they exited the hole. I love farming and all that went along with just like you. Liz was more squeamish. I chased her with rabbit heads and dead mice. You never yelled at me for that, I was your baby. Liz was terrified. We laughed. No, we never had a lot of money, but we had regular vacations to Portuguese Hawaii; Pismo Beach, where we clammed at ridiculously early hours of the morning to coincide with low tide, fished off the pier, and had family picnics at the little park. We also had Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner at our home on Fargo. Your side of the family would come at lunch or dinner and mom's the alternating meal. All the women would cook homemade turkey, mashed potatoes and fixings from scratch. The men talked bullshit: politics and farming and the kids played outside or with simple toys (no electrical devices). Those were the days. Plywood tables with folding legs and rustic wooden benches you made lined the living room from one end to the other, along with folding chairs. No matter how many people showed up there was always room and plenty of food. We almost always had a 30 plus pound turkey supplied by the Silva’s.

Over the years I brought my own family home to the ranch on Fargo. The kids would ride the riding lawn mower and in the back of your truck to check the water when you were irrigating. They played out back got in the dirt and in the garden, broke the lights of the living room fan, flushed decorative soap still in the plastic rapped, down your toilet (which you had to break and replace) and you still welcomed us home again and again. Once you and mom moved up in years and the ranch got too much to handle you moved up to Winchester with Liz's family and that became our home away from home because family is home. We played aggravation, ate Portuguese, food, farted, laughed, and had a wonderful time just being together. Because you were who you were I am who I am. I love you Daddy and know you are looking down from Heaven saying, “You fat thing, you need to lose weight, I am worried about you.” You were always direct and to the point. You were tough and calloused from a rough life, but I know you loved us all in your own special way. Love your baby girl.