In the late 1920’s, the Great Depression was the motivation for many copper companies to force their Mexican employees back to Mexico, either voluntarily or by force. Millions were sent back, including children that were U.S. citizens. Joe’s Grandfather refused to go. Known as Mexican Repatriation, the edict became an ugly chapter in U.S. history, where people of Mexican descent were forced to return to Mexico. This discriminatory mandate was carried out by American authorities and took place without due process. From 1929 to 1936, the Immigration and Naturalization Service targeted Mexicans in California, Arizona, Texas, and Colorado, citing “the proximity of the Mexican border, the physical distinctiveness of mestizos, and easily identifiable barrios.” (Proximity to the Mexican border would come as a surprise to those in Colorado.) Approximately two million Mexicans and Mexican American citizens (mostly children) were repatriated during this time. As the effects of the Great Depression worsened and affected larger amounts of people, feelings of hostility toward immigrants increased rapidly, and the Mexican community as a whole suffered as a result. States began passing laws that required all public employees to be American citizens. Employers were subject to harsh penalties — a $500 fine or six months in jail — if they hired immigrants. Although this law was hardly enforced, employers used it as a convenient excuse for not hiring Mexicans. It also made it difficult for any Mexican, whether American citizens or foreign born, to get hired. The federal government imposed restrictions for immigrant labor as well, requiring firms that supply the government with goods and services refrain from hiring immigrants. As a result, most larger corporations followed suit, with many employers firing their Mexican employees. With few companies hiring new Mexican workers, unemployment increased dramatically among the Mexican population. Joe’s grandparents’ decision not to return to Mexico – a profoundly risky one — was jointly made. The stakes were dramatically high, as both grandparents were not U.S. citizens and both were at risk of deportation. Initially they were asked to leave the country voluntarily, and refused. Then his grandfather’s job was terminated and their home,provided by the copper company, was taken away. They still refused. The family was threatened and intimidated in numerous ways in what had become a highly hostile environment. Joe’s grandfather’s brother and other families decided to leave for Mexico. In sadness, Joe says,“We never heard from them again.” Many children born in the U.S., citizens by law, were forced to leave with their parents. Again, Joe’s grandparents refused. Their children, including Joe’s mother, were placed with non-Hispanic family friends so that they could continue school. This difficult decision was to insure that the children remained in the USA in the event their parents were deported … “repatriated” back to Mexico.

For years, Joe's grandparents went into virtual hiding to avoid the authorities. In the middle of the Great Depression, growing vegetables and raising livestock was the only way to survive. They stayed. They endured. And they survived. Ironically, as the economy improved and the Second World War loomed on the horizon, the mining company needed experienced workers once again. Joe's grandfather was re-employed.

This dark chapter in American history remained a hushed topic over the years, save for those whose families experienced its sadness. Indeed, it wasn't until 2005, when the State of California stepped up to the plate and passed an official "Apology Act" to those forced to relocate to Mexico.

Joe's grandfather, the courageous bedrock of the Molina family, ultimately died of Silicosis, the result of his work in those underground tunnels. He is buried in the old cemetery at Morenci, Arizona. At long last his dream of remaining in this Country forever was insured. His children and their children continue the legacy of strength and determination he left behind.

This defiance and strength of character in resisting repatriation was and will always be the defining moment in the Molina family history. As Joe eloquently puts it: "This will always be part of who are today and what could have been our family history. My grandfather put me in a position to become who I am today. He should always be remembered and honored. Every year in my home on November 1 and 2, on the Day of the Dead, I light candles, pick marigolds from my garden and celebrate his life and memory with drink and food. Throughout the year, his photo and those of other family members that have departed this life are displayed on a special home altar to remind me that the past should never be forgotten."