Walter was born in Santa Paula, a small rural town in a citrus-growing valley in Southern California. He lived there for his first three years, and his earliest memories were of his charismatic maternal grandfather, Reverend Emilio N. Hernandez, and his tightly knit Hispanic family, and the little, but thriving Latino Methodist church Reverend Hernandez was pastor of. The kindly Mexican immigrant members of Emilio’s church congregation doted on Walter. For Walter, this was a warm and magical time: Fragrant lemon and orange groves everywhere, “Tata” (Walter’s nickname for his grandfather) taking him everywhere he went in his aged sedan, singing hymns and teaching them to Walter, telling Bible stories and laughing at his own jokes, and stopping along the roads to harvest and eat the sweet, red fruit of the nopal cactus that grew everywhere. Emilio loved visiting his many friends: poor, elderly church members in their modest houses; wealthy Anglo citrus kings in their grand homes; Mexican immigrant laborers toiling in the fields and groves; or town bankers or merchants.  He knew everyone it seemed, and Emilio made no distinctions based on class, race, religion or nationality – all were equal. For him everyone was a friend… and a possible convert to Methodism. Walter grew to love “Tata” for his winning smile, caring and generous spirit, and the way everyone respected and welcomed him because Emilio was always ready to be of service and help people of all backgrounds. And especially with the Mexican immigrant community, his help was greatly needed.

The magic faded later for Walter when his parents moved far away from Santa Paula, and they began to have marital problems. Walter and his sister went to live with Emilio and Teresita, the kindly lady Emilio married after Walter’s grandmother died. Emilio was now semi-retired, a pastor of a tiny struggling church in a very poor rural community in California’s agricultural Central Valley. Emilio’s monthly pension was small and money usually ran out before every month’s end. For Walter and his sister, these were hard times, being away from parents, but being with “Tata” brought reassurance and stability, and new adventures. Emilio had a way of making all kinds of amazing things happen: materializing a huge Christmas tree for the church with one prayer; or asking the Lord to provide food for the family, as the pantry was empty, and the very same day an unexpected visitor bringing enough food for a week…

For Walter, Emilio was almost a mythical being that stood like a sentinel watching over him. And when his grandfather died in 1973, something truly important went missing inside himself. He was still too young then to know the true dimensions of what was gone, much less how to fill the void.

Twenty-eight years later, 2001, the events of 9/11 coincided with the onset of mid-life re-evaluation – a crisis of faith in humanity and in life, a profound questioning of himself and the purpose and value of his life. He became dispirited and depressed. But oddly, he became obsessed with a very old, leather-bound photo of a young man he didn’t recognize. It had mysteriously reappeared in his mother’s house, a memento she had inherited from her father, Emilio. Walter kept looking at the portrait and wondering why it had such power. Only Walter’s mother, Maria, knew anything about the youth in the photo, taken in Mexico in the 19th Century… “His name was Praxedis G. Guerrero,” she said.  He was a historic personage, a Mexican patriot and revolutionary hero… Praxedis himself had given Emilio the photo when they were young friends. Emilio had cherished it and kept it in his trunk for many decades.

Walter’s mother began to tell him what she knew about their relationship: Emilio grew up with Praxedis on the Guerrero family’s sprawling hacienda in Mexico. The family had taken Emilio in and let him stay there to live and work when Emilio ran away from home when he was just five years old. Praxedis was Emilio’s first real friend, surrogate older brother, and political mentor. Eventually they fled Mexico together to escape political persecution, and they worked for several years in the mines and railroads of the United States southwest to raise money for weapons. Their intent was to help overthrow the corrupt dictator of Mexico, Porfirio Diaz…

Though Maria knew these specifics about that era in Emilio’s early life, the rest was obscured in haze or darkness. She said Emilio avoided going into many details when probed about it; and she sensed there were too many painful and disturbing events connected to that time, so she didn’t press him… And years before, when Walter was a boy he, too, had tried to ask his grandfather questions about his early life: why he ran away from home when he was five, and why he never saw his mother again, or his siblings, for the rest of his life… and Emilio would only frown and say those were evil times and change the subject. But Walter’s mother Maria remembered that when he spoke of Praxedis, a certain bittersweet expression would come over his face, and he would just say, his voice betraying emotion, “He was my friend.”

Walter asked his mother for the photo and he took it home. The photo never left his mind for long. The handsome face in the photo was compelling – it felt like a touchstone that somehow connected Walter to Emilio. Finally, he realized it was calling to him to journey back into the past, to uncover the mystery around the early life of the man he loved and missed – Emilio. He dedicated himself to seeking out those who knew him best and get answers from them. What happened to Emilio? What was hidden there? What was in this man’s journey that shaped him into the wonderful, saintly man he was? Walter sensed that by documenting his search he might also help fill the void left by his grandfather’s death, so he undertook to record his journey on video. He thought he’d spend a few months on the project, but one door opened and led to others, and soon he realized the scope of the endeavor was much greater than foreseen…

Walter’s quest took years of extensive historical and biographic research, searching for answers by interviewing family members and others in Mexico and the United States, including world-renowned historians and authors. He never imagined the odyssey that unfolded before him.  His grandfather’s and turbulent and dangerous world emerged from the shadows of a distant past… Walter found how it was precisely because of his grandfather’s hidden past and its enormous challenges that Emilio became the great man he was, and how so many of the issues he and Praxedis grappled with are still going unresolved one hundred years later in both Mexico and the United States.

Walter’s self-perceptions evolved as he immersed himself deeper into his family history, and he found greater perspective, appreciation and pride as an American of Hispanic origins. He also saw how the process of making the documentary sparked the cooperation and involvement of his extended family, bringing the family together in unexpected and powerful ways.  And as many of his family elders died in quick succession, he understood the crucial importance of seeking them out while they are still living to encourage them to tell their family stories and preserve this history by passing it on through video.  Finally, Walter realized he had joined with the voices of Emilio, Praxedis and others echoing from his family’s past, perhaps one day to be heard by someone in the next generation…