Idle American: Castro Patriarch At 100

At their core will be remembrances of commencement ceremonies, mostly where I’ve been privileged to speak. For brief and shining moments, I’ve joined graduates, families, and fellow educators in celebrating familial love, joy, and unbounded hopes and prayers that graduates might make this world a better place.

Would that our culture could emerge once more from the paintings of the late Norman Rockwell, whose artistry on The Saturday Evening Post magazine covers was reason enough to subscribe. Or perhaps reclaim the rhymes and cartoons penned by the inimitable “Dr. Seuss” (actual name: Theodore Geisel). You’ll be better for “Googling” the lives of these men and/or visiting their museums in Massachusetts and California, respectively.

 Digression aside, I’m re-claiming stand-out memories from some 300 ceremonies, spotlighting four from 1962, 1985, and 2025. At the first two, I was commencement speaker, and more recently, an audience onlooker, “punch proud” of two grandchildren who’ll be freshmen at Howard Payne University this fall. That’s where I was a freshman in 1956 and later was president, 1985-1997.

This day, the focus is on two ceremonies, both funereal in that they were the final school functions in rural locations where the good fight had been waged for several years before dwindling enrollment forced closure.

In 1963, it was London High School (near Junction), and in 1985, Old Glory (near Abilene). I was assured in both cases that my stumbling remarks weren’t totally to blame.

Weeping was heavy on both occasions. Undergirding, however, were memories of accomplishments that buoyed the communities’ souls. Both ceremonies were held in simple structures, London’s in an old barrack hauled in from a defunct military base, and Old Glory’s last school remnant now serving as the community center. London’s final class had four members, with Barbara Carpenter as valedictorian; Old Glory had three, with Maribel Castro as top student. Now Maribel Castro Garcia, she was one of a dozen children birthed by Isaac D. and Felicitas Mendoza Castro. Five siblings won the same honor.

Felicitas, born in Bryan, Texas, arrived in Mexico with her parents as a toddler. She met her true love in the State of Guanajuato, Mexico. They joined three other couples at 5 a.m. to be married following early mass.

The couple came to Texas in 1960, with the children — speaking only Spanish — arriving two years later.

Four had attended school in Mexico, but they all were Old Glory students, warmly received there. All graduated there except the two youngest who transferred to Aspermont after Old Glory closed.

So, they’re having Old Glory’s biggest party this century at 3 p.m., Saturday, May 31, 2025, to celebrate the 100th birthday of Isaac D. Castro. It’ll be held at the community center, where the couple will be honored by all 11 surviving children and spouses, 27 grandchildren, 23 “greats,” and six “great-greats.” Seventy relatives in all, they’ll eat, laugh, love, and share stories while listening to Papa’s favorite music.

It would be difficult to find a more thrilling story than the Castros’. Space precludes details, but consider this: Children are Manuel, Joe, Violet (deceased in 2010 at age 59), Eustaquio, Isaac M., Pete, Silvia, Janie, Laura, Maribel, Marcos, and Angela. They’ve become doctors, nurses, therapists, teachers, child protective service leaders, and US Navy retirees. Isaac M. Castro is currently District Attorney for the 259th Judicial District (Jones and Shackelford Counties).

It’ll be much more than a birthday party. They’ll honor a marriage of 79 years, and a work ethic spawned by the Bracero Program that enabled this wonderful family to live, learn, and work on Hal Yakey’s farm.

Truly, they’ve lived the American dream.

Rockwell and Seuss would be proud.

Live on, Castros, to serve. Live on.

Dr. Newbury, a longtime speaker, may be contacted at 817-447-3872 or newbury@speakerdoc.com. At website www.speakerdoc.com, he reads his columns aloud, sometimes without stumbling.