Back in 1987 I had just got out of the Navy in San Francisco and moved to Seattle where I was to live for the next 35 years. I got off work one day and headed to the local watering hole, The 5 Point Café, to have an after-work cocktail when some random Mexican dude sat a few seats over and ordered a White Spider. I watched as the bartender, Wayno, poured this guy an Olympia draft beer, a pretty standard low-end beer. I asked the dude why he called it a White Spider and Wayno said, “I think he does that to start a conversation.”
I immediately liked this guy, he introduces himself as Francisco Fornses and he worked as a line cook at Café Campagne, a high-end French restaurant. We talked about the usual stuff – sports, told a few bad jokes – man was he funny – and we parted.
I saw Francisco on and off for the next 25+ years and learned his story. He was an undocumented immigrant who swam the Rio Grande with little money, made it to Los Angeles where some other immigrants stole all his money, so he hitched to Seattle. He got a job washing dishes at Campagne, slept in an abandoned building for months, and showered at a YMCA. He kept learning the restaurant business and after a few years he had hard worked himself into the assistant chef position.
He never really was interested in girlfriends, and I met my gal, got married and he remained a close friend of ours for years. His go to line was “Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful,” a funny line seeing that his rather swarthy presence was all but beautiful.
One of the waitresses he worked with had gotten pregnant, but the guy bailed on her leaving her to raise her son alone. That was a major turning point for this Random Mexican Dude. He took one look at “The Baby” (Christopher) and fell in love with him.
From that moment on he took on the father figure role for Christopher. Hispanic culture is grounded in family values, more than many other cultures, and since he couldn’t go back to Mexico, I think that was something he felt compelled to do.
Everything changed for the better for my friend, he would always go on and on about how the baby was growing and learning. The mother, kind of a flake, took it for granted that he would be there if she needed a night out or diapers, clothes, food you name it.
Francisco had “The Baby” on Sundays and we would see them together in the park. You could tell they were like best friends. Francisco never asked the mother for anything and gave whenever he could. This lasted ‘til Christopher was around five years old. Francisco had worked hard as always and finally got his citizenship but still couldn’t return to Mexico for whatever reason.
The mother hooked up with some a guy and moved with him to Mexico taking Christopher with her, the one place Francisco couldn’t go. I watched my buddy as he didn’t openly talk about it, but you could tell he was crushed, and I saw less and less of him in the months to follow.
We always had “Orphan Thanksgiving” at our place so anyone who had no place could come and have some turkey, watch some football and be thankful. That was the last time I saw Francisco. He had gone to the Dalahia Lounge before he came over. Moved all the furniture to one side of the restaurant, shampooed the carpets, came over for dinner and after a nap on our couch went back to finish the carpet shampooing on Thanksgiving!
A few weeks later we heard he had fallen asleep at the wheel and hit an overpass and died instantly. I’ll always wonder if he really fell asleep or was too distraught to go on living after losing his best friend and light of his life.
Tom Douglas, owner of the Dahlia Lounge and longtime friend of Francisco, held the wake at his premier restaurant and the turnout was extraordinary. I saw many friends that I didn’t realize knew Francisco and all of them said “he was my best friend,” a place I had thought belonged to me.
I got to see Christopher and his mom one last time and didn’t have much to say to her. As the service progressed, the Lieutenant Governor of Washington State got up and said some very kind words about my friend, as she had worked with him on getting his citizenship. The associate editor of the Seattle Times was next, followed by several other high-ranking citizens.
I had never realized how many people knew and loved this Random Mexican Dude and I was brought to tears as we all sang a hymn in Spanish.
When I see our nation’s leaders calling immigrants all the bad names they have for them this story comes to mind. How some random Mexican dude acted so selflessly to see that a small child was provided with a father figure who helped a single mother out with no strings attached.
The Hispanic culture is magnificent in its depth of family values, art, food, religious involvement and hardworking mentality. To demonize these people is an affront to humanity and has no place in my America.
Remember we are a nation of immigrants and that has made America great and will continue to in the future. Building a wall, scaring our neighbors with terroristic violence will never deter people from wanting a better life where freedom is our core value.
“Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful” was made into hundreds of t-shirts, I still have one. He really was a Beautiful Human.
Chris Cyrus