Manuel McIntyre was the grandson of Patrick McIntyre and Bridget Stevens; the son of Bartholomew McIntyre (McIntire) and Concepcion Ramos. He was born August 15, 1891 in San Francisco and died July 19, 1950 in the Veteran's Home Hospital in Napa County, California. Manuel was a Corporal in the U.S. Army during World War I.
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Translation of letters written by Maria McIntire [Ruiz] to her sister Elena McIntire [Morales] regarding their brother Manuel’'s passing and funeral. The original letter is in Spanish and was kept as a family memento by Roberto Morales McIntire.
Translated by: Patricia Morales, Elena'’s granddaughter
Letter 1
Received on July 23rd (*appears to be Elena’'s note)
July 19, 1950
Dear Elena,
Manuel died suddenly, probably today. The hospital told Rosie that he went to bed well and next morning he did not wake up.
It is 10.30 a.m. Rosie gave the news to Mercedes at around nine. Afterwards, I’'ll give you more details. They say that Manuel requested to have the wake at Yountville, where all his friends are, and that he should be buried at the cemetery for veterans.
Maria
I will try to reach Armando. All the family opposed my sending you a cable because they said that the scare caused by scary news could be harmful to you.
Letter 2
*received on July 25, 1950
3478-19th St.
San Francisco
19 July 1950
Dear Elena,
Earlier today I gave you the news that Manuel did not wake up this morning. It is seven and a half at night. Mercedes, Rosie and Annmarie spent all day at the place where he lived. They could see him today as of 7 at night. They say that Bobby is in charge of leading the funeral. Francisca went at noon, and since she could not see him, she came back home. Today’'s afternoon she invited me to go back with her, that Irma’'s husband was going to take her in his car. I told her that I appreciated the offer but besides not being possible for me to go several times due my ill health, I also have to make arrangements for someone to stay with Maruca because she does not like to stay alone in the house.
Now Manuel is in the mortuary house in Napa. On Friday they will go back to Yountville to do the military honors at one in the afternoon. Manuel liked the tribute ceremony to veterans very much. There, I'm thinking of attending. He will be buried Monday morning at the cemetery for veterans whose location in the peninsula you must remember. I still don'’t know where he will be after the military ceremony.
Armando still does not answer his phone, I also sent him a quick delivery letter.
Annmarie is walking again. She had her big toe and the toe next to it amputated. She is taking insulin and is without diabetes.
You may receive this before the burial.
Maria
Letter 3
Scribbled on top of page: Manuel McIntyre-(two words in unintelligible handwriting), resided more than 25 years here
3478-19th St
San Francisco,
July 22, 1950
Dear Elena,
Manuel has been at the mortuary house in Napa except for yesterday that he was taken to the chapel at Yountville at one in the afternoon to have a Catholic ceremony at 1:30 p.m. Outside, there was a black flag with a white cross, a Catholic emblem, at half-mast.
Inside, it is filled with seats, nobody is supposed to kneel, and all the people are either standing or sitting, probably because it is a place for disabled people.
They placed all the floral arrangements close to the coffin, and there were many and very pretty. They opened the coffin and his comrades started approaching. Each of them made the military salute and afterwards, a military farewell. Then, they would make a movement with their feet that I think they call “Attention!” and then would walk away marching, one by one, separately.
Later came the priest; he prayed and sprinkled holy water. He stayed while the coffin was being closed. There were four flags at the altar. Two old soldiers took 2, one by one, and stood in front of the casket, ready to leave. The priest stood between the flags and the casket. Then, next to him, a protestant chaplain came; both of them were wearing a uniform from the past war. They walked next to him, at the exit of the chapel. Some old soldiers wearing uniforms from the past war placed the casket in a car.
The car drove outside escorted by eight old men in uniform on each side. Approximately half a block away, on each side of the road, there were old men in uniform in a military row. At the head of each row there was one of the old men with the two flags that were in front of the coffin. There were about 40 old men on each side, and each one of them had a physical defect, but they were all able to stand on foot, it was a long line of human disfiguration on each side. In a proper place, there was a band playing the funeral march. While we were at the chapel, they played the organ and a lady sang beautifully.
The funeral car arrived at the entrance of the hospital grounds. It stopped there. Close to the car, some guys with rifles shot a number of blank shots to the air. Then, they played the trumpet just like the ones we used to hear at the end of the day in el Sapote, remember? (Patricia’s note: el Zapote is a military barrack in San Salvador) Immediately after, a funeral car left the hospital grounds and started riding just like any other car. The first car was driven by Rosie'’s boyfriend, who drove her, Bobby, Mercedes, and a woman friend. Rosie was very pretty wearing a big black hat. Then, it was Alfred driving, and Elita, Benny and I. Then, Armando was by himself. Armando has been extremely helpful in this occasion. He offers to do anything within his reach. Annemarie did not come. At this time, maybe Vita has already come. I don’'t know how she learned about it. Burial is on Monday.
Maria
Letter 4
3478-19th St
San Francisco,
July 26, 1950
Dear Elena,
When I came back from Manuel'’s burial I found here the letter you wrote on the 19th, the day that Mel must have died. You may remember the location of the cemetery for veterans; it is a few miles south of the Catholic one and the others. It is on a large flat terrain except for the middle where there is an artificial mount. On top of it, there is a very long pole with flags. It is very tall. I didn’'t know there were such tall poles for flags. From far, we could see that the flag was at half-mast. There was a lot of room in the pole from where the flag is placed. It has a very solemn aspect, even from far. Ann Marie went, but did not come out of her car. Close to the grave there was a very fancy metal box. That was to place the casket inside before interning it into the ground. This way, the remains are preserved longer. This was paid by Rosie and Bobby who earn 3,000 a year each. All the ceremony was executed by naval military, except for the priest who led the prayers. Eight marines took the coffin into the grave. They took the flag and held it as if it was a roof about two feet above the coffin, while the priest prayed.
Once the prayers were over, other marines shot blanks in the air. Then, the trumpet was played with the same tune we used to hear from El Sapote every day at 4:30 am I believe. The difference is that this one here was executed by a true artist. It sounds like a combination of a howling dog, cries of people, and sad music. It sounded first with a tone that was hardly perceived and then became louder, slowly, until it was very loud, the same howling of dogs, a long one, they combined the tune I mentioned earlier and whose name I forget.
One man came with the folded flag at the end of the trumpet and asked who the widow was. They told him she was in the car. She was not impressed to receive it because it had been many years since she stopped loving Manuel.
Armando and Grace couldn'’t come. Elita (Patricia’s note: I assume this is her daughter Ela Concepción. Elita is short for Ela) in her car took Angelita and Lila and me. Rosie was driving another car, and took Ann Marie, Bobby, Mercedes and Betty. No one else came.
Your birthday is coming once again. I hope you have a happy one and many more years. You wrote me to congratulate me for my 67 years. I don’'t know why but I feel funny every time they call me “old lady”. On this street I am the only old lady in the neighborhood and that is what they call me. You say that you hope I live in peace. I do. Since I was in school, I have not studied sacred history. I remember that they said in those times manna was given to people and today God is giving it like back then. Every second day of the month, I receive in my mailbox 75 mannas that keep me going until the 2 of the next month when I go to the mailbox again to receive 75 more mannas.
Maria
Thank you to Patricia Morales Tijerino for translating these very personal and touching letters.
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