The Vargas sisters (from left): Carmen, Genoveva “Geno,” Luz “Lucy,” Nieves “Nancy,” and Consuleo “Chelo.”
Atenogenes Vargas Marin was born the first son to Candelaria Marin Hernandez and Mariano Vargas Ramos on July 16, 1901, in Ameca, Jalisco, Mexico. The eldest of nine, he was an adventurous soul and family lore says he was named from a Greek calendar that Candelaria and Mariano had.
At 13, he decided he wanted to join the Mexican Revolution, so he ran off to water their horses when Pancho Villa came through town. Candelaria was firm that he was not to join and sent Mariano after Atenogenes to drag him back home.
Three years later, Atenogenes was off again, this time hopping trains and essentially backpacking into the Western United States. Atenogenes stepped off the train in the U.S. for the first time outside the new jail that had just been built in Gilroy, California. He continued on as far as Montana, where he ended up out of money and hungry from not having eaten for three days. It was freezing cold and a (in his own words) “white man” took pity on him.
After a time, he returned to Mexico, where he ended up working as a policeman, and then he eventually immigrated to California with the rest of the family in 1925. There, he worked as a machinist’s assistant, a Merchant Marine, and in a candle factory in the Mission District of San Francisco.
He married Alma Reyegonda, who was haunted by a tragic past for much of her life. When she was 18, she played Ding Dong Ditch on her mom. They lived in a two-story apartment at the time, and the second time her mother came downstairs to answer the door, she fell down the stairs and suffered a broken neck. After two weeks in the hospital, Alma’s mother passed away.
As was popular during the era, Atenogenes and Alma liked to drink and stay out late. Before long, they had three children: Art Vargas, Rose Vargas, and Carmen Vargas, all who still live in California.
On a trip to Ameca in 1972, Atenogenes sought out his old stomping grounds and found his long-lost aunt, Maria Marin, who was sitting alone in her home, which lead to a heartwarming reunion. Cousin Carmen has kept this photo of them for some years:
Atenogenes eventually died of pneumonia in 1980.
Candelaria Marin Hernandez and Mariano Vargas Ramos were born in Mexico and came to the United States after their children had immigrated and become established (family lore says that Candelaria insisted on moving after the birth of her first grandchild, George Gullicksen).
I wrote about them before, after seeing a great portrait of them hanging on the wall at Cousin Rose’s house. This photograph is from Rose’s sister, Cousin Carmen, from when we had a get-together ancestry day and swapped stories and photographs.
Candelaria was born in Ameca, Jalisco, Mexico in about 1869 and she died of uterine cancer in San Jose, California, on August 19, 1930.
Mariano was also born in Ameca in November, 1870. When they lived in Mexico, he was a door-to-door salesman and also sold goods out of a small shop on the side of their home. He died during surgery for a bladder infection in Mexico City, D.F. on February 14, 1931.
They would have been married before their first child, Atenogenes, was born in 1901; although, I do not have an exact date. They had nine children over a span of 19 years: Atenojenes (1901), Carmen (1906), Genoveba (1907), Guadalupe (1909), Consuelo (1912), Nieves aka Nancy (1914), Luz aka Lucy (1918), Alfonso (1919), and Luis (1920).
Consuelo “Chelo” Vargas Marin was married twice and lived and loved fully all her life. I remember going to her home in the Mission District in San Francisco for a party — I think it was for Thanksgiving — when I was a teenager. She was in her 90s at the time and her sisters Nancy and Lucy were helping host. They were all dolled up with their wigs, and I think it was Lucy who was wearing a leopard print shirt with tight black leggings. Some of their conversation was in Spanish as one of them carried a platter of tamales to the table, but I also remember them talking in English about going dancing and their “boyfriends.”
Consuelo was born in Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico, on March 11, 1912. She immigrated to the United States with some of her sisters in 1925 and they worked in the canneries in San Francisco. She and her sisters would frequently walked in the Mission District.
She was listed as single in the 1930 census, so she would have married Clemente Cruz (photo above) sometime after that; although, I don’t have an exact date. Her second marriage was to James Jones. I’ll try to add more information here when I find it, but I’m lacking dates and locations at the moment. If anyone has additional details or memories to share in the comments, I would love to know more.
It was noted in her obituary that, “She was always known for her good cooking skills in the kitchen; no one ever left her home hungry. Although Chelo never had any children of her own, she has been a mother figure for many in her large family. She stepped in when tragedy struck, providing a loving home to children whose mother had been lost.”
She died January 21, 2005.
My great grandmother, Carmen Vargas Marin, immigrated to the United States from Mexico in the 1920s. She was born to Mariano Vargas Ramos and Candelaria Marin Hernandez on July 4, 1906, in Ameca, Jalisco, Mexico.
She entered the U.S. through Laredo, Texas, in 1925, and married Pvt. Otto Gullickson in Harris County, Texas in 1926. By 1927, they were living in San Francisco, where their first son George Gullicksen was born.
In all, she bore four children: George, Lillian Gullicksen (1929), Carmel Gullicksen (1934), and Charles Hubert Gullicksen (1940).
She was noted in the 1930 census as living at 88B Chenery Street in San Francisco, where they paid $25 rent and lived with George and Lillian. It was also noted that she spoke Spanish in the home.
My mother remembers her as a very nice woman who would usually dye her hair a dark red. Once, something went wrong with the dyeing process and it was instead colored a bright fuchsia ahead of a family gathering.
Carmen passed away on October 30, 1984, in Santa Clara.
Note: The photo above was given to me by Cousin Carmen, also named Carmen Vargas. She is the daughter of my great uncle, Atenojenes Vargas Marin. (Thanks, Carmen!)
This is a photo my grandmother Carmen Gullicksen (n. Dominguez) showed me last year when I went to Missouri to meet her for the first time. It makes me smile just looking at it. I’m guessing it’s from Halloween from the late 1950s. From left, Christina Gullicksen, Otto Gullicksen, and my dad, Steven Gullicksen.
This photo is a little scarred, but I like how it shows a glimpse into the daily life of Klaas Siersema and Maria Wilhelmina van Erp, or Oma Doorn as I’ve always known her to be called. My mom’s side of the family has always liked dogs (we treat them like kings), and this image fits with that trend. It must have been a cold day, since Klaas and Wilhelmina are situated around a stove. Also, notice the kettle heading on the stove and Maria reading a book — a simpler time!
This is a photo of a picture my grandmother had of my great-grandmother Carmen Vargas Marin and her sisters. From the top, left to right, Consuelo Vargas Marin [1912-2005], Nieves “Nancy” Vargas Marin [1914-?], Lucy Vargas Marin [unknown], and Carmen Vargas Marin [1906-1984].
There were originally six Vargas sisters, but two of them died in their late teens. All of them were born in Mexico and worked in the canneries in San Francisco after the family emigrated, according to my uncle Art.
Here is another photo from the same day, which Cousin Carmen gave me:
This photo reminds me of half the family photos I’ve eve taken, where you hit the button before everyone is paying attention. It was sent to me by Halbo Kool and he had a go at deciphering the handwriting on the back, as well as identifying the faces he knew in the photo. Here’s what his note said:
“…Summer 1933 Her(man ?) Brouwer ( ?) ; Germ & Anni ; Hendrik & Irene ; HCK & Chr. (Hendrik 3rd from right, HCK and Chr the two on the left)”
To further translate, Christina Kolle is on the far left, and Halbo Kool (b.1873) is standing next to her. Halbo Kool (b.1873)’s brother Hendrik Kool is the third from the right with wife Irene, but we are not sure which woman she is. Germ Kool and wife Anni (Anna Hebelina Klugkist) are also in the photo, as are host Her(man?) Brouwer and another female.
As for the Brouwers, they may be relatives, but I am not sure. They may just be family friends. It’s funny, though, because my best friend and I are both interested in genealogy and she recently found some family members in her tree from the Netherlands with the last name Brouwer and so I’ve been on the lookout for connections between our families.
Recognize anyone? Let me know in the comments. I’d love to further narrow down who’s who in this photograph.
Cousin Anje has identified everyone in this photo:
1. Christina Kool (née Kolle) 1873-1957 married with Halbo Kool (b.1873)
2. Hendrik Kool 1869-1962 brother Halbo Kool, not married
3. Elsina Anna Kool 1867-1944 sister Halbo Kool, not married
4. Germ Kool 1875 – 1950 brother Halbo Kool, married with Anna Hebelina Klugkist
5. Anna Hebelina Kool (née Klugkist) 1880 -1944 married wirh Germ Kool. Her mother was a sister of Germ’s father.
6. Halbo Kool 1873 – 1943 married with Christina Kolle
7. Catharina Brouwer (née Meijer) 1870 – 1948. Married with Hergen Brouwer. Catharina’s mother was Annechiena Gezina Duintjer, a sister of Halbo Kool’s mother Gonda Margaretha Duintjer.
8. Hergen Brouwer 1871 – 1944
This kid looks like he just does not trust the camera.
This is an early 1900s photo of Cornelis “Cees” Kool, with his governess, that Halbo Kool sent me a while back and I recently remembered I meant to post it. Cornelis was born on July 6, 1900, in Groningen, Netherlands, and died a grandfather in Canada on March 27, 1979. From what I’ve heard over the years, he was a pretty cool guy. Very smart. I’ll write more on him later.