Good roads bring all people: GN saltworks story (edited for clarity)
My late father, Frank Saldana was a Marine for 20 years, then a reporter for the Evening Tribune in San Diego for 25 years. I believe he was their
first Mexican-American, Spanish speaking reporter.
He passed away at age 87 on May 8, after a lifetime of adventures most people can only imagine (or dread).
Many of his colleagues are now sharing their favorite stories of "travels with "Sal"- as he was affectionately called. And there are many!
Here's one a reporter wrote, about his trip with my father along the "new" highway in Baja, shortly before it officially opened:
With great sadness I learned of the death of Frank Saldana. Like many of you, I have great respect for this fine gentleman and excellent
journalist. My relationship with Frank was a lifetime ago and brief, but unforgettable. As a young and very green reporter for the Trib, I was
assigned to do a story on the planned Trans-Peninsular Highway being built from Tijuana to Cabo. It would be the first ribbon of pavement to connect
the length of the Baja peninsula.
I was given an open-ended assignment to head south, interview folks in the dusty little outposts along the way and come back with a great
story. At the last minute, because of my lack of bilingual skills, Frank was sent along.
A friend and his brother came along, and with two jeeps loaded with camping gear and camera equipment we started our adventure. I was
surprised that Frank didn't have an assignment other than that of interpreter. I was going to do both the photography and the writing. But I was glad
he was along and by the light of evening campfires and in the small villages where he was the only one who could effectively communicate, Iearned what
a fine gentleman he was.
When we reached Scammons Lagoon, we decided to drop in at the salt production operations at Gurrero Negro. If my memory is correct the
operation was then owned by the Japanese and somewhat secretive. Frank was aware of the sensitivity and told me to just keep everything low-key.
Apparently it was quite sensitive. We asked at the gate if we could talk to someone about the construction of the new highway. We were
escorted into a fancy office and you could tell they were paranoid about us being there. They had suspicions that we were spying on their operations I
guess, because they became somewhat confrontational, eventually getting to the point of asking if we had work permits to be in Mexico when they found
out we were journalists.
At that point, Frank suggested it was time to leave. We did, and as we headed south on the dusty road, we saw a small convoy of military
vehicles approaching the salt works from another direction. They really did not like us being there. I'm sure without Frank along I would have found
myself in some kind of trouble. He had the good sense to understand the situation and get us out of there.
The rest of the trip was a great adventure, once we stopped looking over our shoulders. We continued on to Mulege and Loreto where we
boarded the car ferry to Hermasillo and returned home on paved roads.
I do remember Jack Gregg commenting about our expense account which frequently listed beer as an item we purchased. I simply explained that
in many places along the dusty highway the water was questionable, so we decided it would be safer to drink beer. He accepted that with some
grumbling.
Semper Fi old friend.
[Edited on 5-10-2015 by Whale-ista]
\"Probably the airplanes will bring week-enders from Los Angeles before long, and the beautiful poor bedraggled old town will bloom with a
Floridian ugliness.\" (John Steinbeck, 1940, discussing the future of La Paz, BCS, Mexico)
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