There were 32 people on board that day, but the names of only four were recorded for history. The newspaper articles about the crash written at the time describe an accident involving a Douglas DC-3 carrying immigrant workers from Oakland, California to the El Centro, California Deportation Center. Those accounts give the name of the plane’s pilot (Frank Atkinson), and co-pilot (Marion Ewing). They mention the name of the stewardess (Bobbi Atkinson) and the guard (Frank E. Chapin). However, the newspaper stories did not include the names of any of the 27 men or of the one woman who were passengers on that flight, victims who were buried in a mass grave at Holy Cross Cemetery in Fresno, California. Those reports simply dismissed them as “deportees.”
“I was born and raised in Coalinga and can remember going to the crash site the day after the incident. My father, older sister, and I viewed the crash and even though I was about six years old at the time, I can remember it as if it happened yesterday. It was a cold and damp day and even though the reports were that the site had been cleaned up, this was not the case. The sadness of seeing the meager possessions of the passengers and the total lack of respect by those who had the task of removing the bodies will be something I will never forget or forgive.”
Plane Wreck at Los Gatos
(also known as “Deportee”)
Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Martin Hoffman
Dylan/Baez Version (1976)
Bob Dylan & Joan Baez – Deportee (1976)
The crops are all in and the peaches are rott’ning,
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;
They’re flying ’em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back again
Barka da zuwa Juan na, ban kwana, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, Yesu ya Maria;
Ba za ku sami sunayenku ba lokacin da kuke hawa babban jirgin sama,
All they will call you will be “deportees”
My father’s own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he made in his life;
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the truck till they took down and died.
Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract’s out and we have to move on;
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
Mun mutu a cikin tuddanka, mun mutu a hamadarka.
Mun mutu a cikin kwaruruka, mun mutu a filayenka.
Mun mutu a ƙarƙashin bishiyoyinku kuma mun mutu a cikin kurmin ku.
Duk bangarorin kogin, mun mutu daya ne.
The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, “They are just deportees”
Shin wannan ita ce hanya mafi kyau da za mu iya noman manyan gonakin mu?
Shin wannan ita ce hanya mafi kyau da za mu iya noman ’ya’yanmu masu kyau?
Don faɗuwa kamar busassun ganye don ruɓe a saman ƙasata
Kuma ba za a kira su da suna ba sai “masu kora”?
ZNetwork ana samun kuɗi ta hanyar karimcin masu karatun sa.
Bada Tallafi