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Jose De Jesus Diaz-Velasco (Joe) was born in Los Angeles, California, on October 30,
1928 and died in Chula Vista, California on March 16, 2011. He left behind a loving
wife, his 5 children, 8 grandchildren, and 5 great-grandchildren. When asked recently
what he was most proud of, he responded--bewildered that the question even need
be asked-- "my family."
Despite being born in the United States, Joe spent his youth in Mexico, and his family travelled often. At 11 years old his friend, Jose "El Coyote" De La Torre, taught him to ride and care for horses. At a later time, his training and experience paid off when he was called on by El Coyote to help abduct his friend's future wife on horseback, as was the custom in those days. The deed was successfully pulled off to the chorus of gun fire from the bride's displeased family.
Despite being born in the United States, Joe spent his youth in Mexico, and his family travelled often. At 11 years old his friend, Jose "El Coyote" De La Torre, taught him to ride and care for horses. At a later time, his training and experience paid off when he was called on by El Coyote to help abduct his friend's future wife on horseback, as was the custom in those days. The deed was successfully pulled off to the chorus of gun fire from the bride's displeased family.
When Joe was 13 his family moved to Guadalajara where he finished his education,
and began taking classes at a local college with the aim of someday teaching
students of his own. Within a year of beginning his studies he had a change of
interest, as most undergraduates do, and changed his focus to aviation.
Unfortunately, he wrecked a plane during his training and was discharged by the
academy.
Unfazed by the experience, Joe founded a business with his brother Ruben, shuttling people in a small aircraft. At the time there was a diphtheria epidemic plaguing the area and it was a commonly held belief that high altitude excursions could improve patients. Lifted by a steady stream of clients, the business soared until Ruben decided to return to Guadalajara. At this time, Joe returned to the United States and worked various odd jobs for a time, making ends meet. Such jobs included working in the fields, as close as Los Angeles, and as far as Idaho.
One note-worthy job was obtained when he ran into El Coyote who was happily able to return the favor. Through El Coyote's influence, Joe worked with show horses owned by Arthur Godfrey, and enjoyed other benefits. Chief among them, Joe had the opportunity to race quarter breeds, then thoroughbreds.
His racing career began with a stumble, when the racing gates opened and his horse charged forward adamantly, leaving the competition and Joe behind in the stalls. Despite the hiccup, he raced against such jockeys as the great Willy Shoemaker, and Wanda Davis. In fact, Davis and he were great adversaries for Shoemaker, and in time Joe found himself racing successfully. Unfortunately, Joe became tangled in a sticky relationship with prize money, better food, and jockey physique and discovered independently that too much of a good thing is actually bad.
Unfazed by the experience, Joe founded a business with his brother Ruben, shuttling people in a small aircraft. At the time there was a diphtheria epidemic plaguing the area and it was a commonly held belief that high altitude excursions could improve patients. Lifted by a steady stream of clients, the business soared until Ruben decided to return to Guadalajara. At this time, Joe returned to the United States and worked various odd jobs for a time, making ends meet. Such jobs included working in the fields, as close as Los Angeles, and as far as Idaho.
One note-worthy job was obtained when he ran into El Coyote who was happily able to return the favor. Through El Coyote's influence, Joe worked with show horses owned by Arthur Godfrey, and enjoyed other benefits. Chief among them, Joe had the opportunity to race quarter breeds, then thoroughbreds.
His racing career began with a stumble, when the racing gates opened and his horse charged forward adamantly, leaving the competition and Joe behind in the stalls. Despite the hiccup, he raced against such jockeys as the great Willy Shoemaker, and Wanda Davis. In fact, Davis and he were great adversaries for Shoemaker, and in time Joe found himself racing successfully. Unfortunately, Joe became tangled in a sticky relationship with prize money, better food, and jockey physique and discovered independently that too much of a good thing is actually bad.
Left to Right:
Forrest Joyner is the short one, Doug Beeks is behind Forrest, Tom Sanderson, Cheri Lewis and George Cabaniss is kneeling.
On the other side
Left to Right:
Paul Bisdorf with Jose kneeling in front of him, not sure who the fellow with the checked shirt is, and Bob Creech.
Forrest Joyner is the short one, Doug Beeks is behind Forrest, Tom Sanderson, Cheri Lewis and George Cabaniss is kneeling.
On the other side
Left to Right:
Paul Bisdorf with Jose kneeling in front of him, not sure who the fellow with the checked shirt is, and Bob Creech.
After eating away his jockey career he drank his way into another when he was just 22
years old. One day he went out with friends for an inebriated night in town; he woke up
the next day with a hangover, and a contractual obligation to serve in the U.S. Armed
Forces, a life decision he had apparently made on a drunken dare. He went on to serve
as a paratrooper and military police officer for 3 years, including a tour in Korea, and an
assignment in Germany. During what he, in good humor, calls "the hangover that lasted
three years," he found himself promoted to Sergeant, injured in the line of duty, and
regularly driving for a general.
It was between assignments to Korea and Germany he found himself in San Diego as a stranger. To meet people he went roller skating at a rink where he passed by a beautiful young girl tying her skate laces. He asked the girl if she would accept his assistance, then went on his way, asking nothing in return, not even her name. It was years later when he met her again, by chance, as he was driving through Tijuana, Mexico. Joe spotted her first, and honked to get her attention. Perhaps recognizing him, the woman snubbed him, and turned away. From that moment onward, Joe was hers.
Joe sleuthed to find the identity of the young girl. When he described her to Gala, his sister, she knew exactly who he was referring to. Maria. He devised a cunning plan to meet her: he would invite all the girls to the beach, as long as they made sure the "Little Cutey" came along. The plan was executed and with persistence Joe and Maria began courting. One year later they were happily married.
Joe and his family lived in Chula Vista from there on, where he worked at Rohr for over 18 years. "To succeed in life," Joe said, "one only needs to work harder than the next guy." This principle was put into practice when Rohr workers organized a strike. Joe crossed the picket line every day to feed his family, earning the ire of co-workers and friends. As a result of what was seen as a transgression, the revolting workers retaliated, killing a family pet in an attempt to gain compliance through intimidation. Despite the dire consequences, Joe put his family first, and did what needed to be done, and continued to return to work.
When Joe was 49 he began a career as an architectural engineering drafstman for the M.C.R.D. and served as a Chula Vista Police Officer Reserve. His capabilities in the Police Department become so well recognized that at one time he was given a job that most would consider impossible: locate the exact location where a certain patrol vehicle had collided with an immovable object, where the officer driving failed to log the incident. All he knew was the color of the object and the height at which the damage was incurred. Later that same day he located a scuffed wall with matching features, by a Taco Bell on E. Street, where it was later verified the officer had stopped for lunch. After retiring he continued to serve in the volunteer patrol. During his 17 years of active service, he was awarded the Bob King Award in 1980, being recognized as the best reserve officer in San Diego County, and twice was awarded Chula Vista Reserve of the Year.
Throughout his life Joe was many things to different people. To his wife and "Chaparrit" (term of endearment meaning "shorty"), he was affectionate and loving, even through his senior years. To his children he was "hands off," but a consistent presence in their lives, an icon of love and support, and an example of strength. To his grandchildren he was a bit of a softy and yet the stern arbiter of disputes and the distributer of discipline; subsequently, disputes were infrequent among them or well hidden. To his great-grandchildren he was "Papa Joe", a pillar of love, the ultimate softy, the go-to man when you wanted to be spoiled.
Joe had quite the sweet tooth, and was forced to hide candy in ridiculous places to preserve his stash for himself, and away from his five children, who searched tenaciously for it. Sometimes it was found in unlikely places well past expiration, such as the attic crawl space, and Joe would remark, satisfied, "at least you didn't get to it." Joe was also known for arguing the counter-point, solely for the love of debate, and often over a plate of warm food. His political views were known to be quite conservative, so much so that he was described affectionately but in secret as, "to the right of Attila the Hun." When Joe was not spurning vegetables, or stirring up debates, he could be found napping in unusual places such as behind a couch, or the driver's seat of a parked car.
Joe liked nothing more than to be the center of family life, evidenced by an office adorned with pictures of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He was an armchair politico, a gun enthusiast, a handyman, admirably independent, and like his nickname suggests, always up for a good cup-o'-joe. Though his role in life varied depending on when you knew him, he was always consistent in exemplifying his core values and beliefs, even when things went wrong, and even when he stood alone.
Though Joe lived a full and rewarding life, dotted with experiences most people will only read about in fiction, and exhibiting resilience young men would envy, he eventually did reach the conclusion of a life-time of smoking cigarettes. When Joe was diagnosed with cancer, he thought first of his family, and not desiring to draw out the grief the situation warranted, decided to make no effort to prolong his life. He left the world as he had lived in it: dignified and brave, doing what he thought was right, and looking after his family first. He left behind the memories of a living legend, and if the world only knew, it would surely mourn its loss.
https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/bonita-ca/jose-diaz-4599528
It was between assignments to Korea and Germany he found himself in San Diego as a stranger. To meet people he went roller skating at a rink where he passed by a beautiful young girl tying her skate laces. He asked the girl if she would accept his assistance, then went on his way, asking nothing in return, not even her name. It was years later when he met her again, by chance, as he was driving through Tijuana, Mexico. Joe spotted her first, and honked to get her attention. Perhaps recognizing him, the woman snubbed him, and turned away. From that moment onward, Joe was hers.
Joe sleuthed to find the identity of the young girl. When he described her to Gala, his sister, she knew exactly who he was referring to. Maria. He devised a cunning plan to meet her: he would invite all the girls to the beach, as long as they made sure the "Little Cutey" came along. The plan was executed and with persistence Joe and Maria began courting. One year later they were happily married.
Joe and his family lived in Chula Vista from there on, where he worked at Rohr for over 18 years. "To succeed in life," Joe said, "one only needs to work harder than the next guy." This principle was put into practice when Rohr workers organized a strike. Joe crossed the picket line every day to feed his family, earning the ire of co-workers and friends. As a result of what was seen as a transgression, the revolting workers retaliated, killing a family pet in an attempt to gain compliance through intimidation. Despite the dire consequences, Joe put his family first, and did what needed to be done, and continued to return to work.
When Joe was 49 he began a career as an architectural engineering drafstman for the M.C.R.D. and served as a Chula Vista Police Officer Reserve. His capabilities in the Police Department become so well recognized that at one time he was given a job that most would consider impossible: locate the exact location where a certain patrol vehicle had collided with an immovable object, where the officer driving failed to log the incident. All he knew was the color of the object and the height at which the damage was incurred. Later that same day he located a scuffed wall with matching features, by a Taco Bell on E. Street, where it was later verified the officer had stopped for lunch. After retiring he continued to serve in the volunteer patrol. During his 17 years of active service, he was awarded the Bob King Award in 1980, being recognized as the best reserve officer in San Diego County, and twice was awarded Chula Vista Reserve of the Year.
Throughout his life Joe was many things to different people. To his wife and "Chaparrit" (term of endearment meaning "shorty"), he was affectionate and loving, even through his senior years. To his children he was "hands off," but a consistent presence in their lives, an icon of love and support, and an example of strength. To his grandchildren he was a bit of a softy and yet the stern arbiter of disputes and the distributer of discipline; subsequently, disputes were infrequent among them or well hidden. To his great-grandchildren he was "Papa Joe", a pillar of love, the ultimate softy, the go-to man when you wanted to be spoiled.
Joe had quite the sweet tooth, and was forced to hide candy in ridiculous places to preserve his stash for himself, and away from his five children, who searched tenaciously for it. Sometimes it was found in unlikely places well past expiration, such as the attic crawl space, and Joe would remark, satisfied, "at least you didn't get to it." Joe was also known for arguing the counter-point, solely for the love of debate, and often over a plate of warm food. His political views were known to be quite conservative, so much so that he was described affectionately but in secret as, "to the right of Attila the Hun." When Joe was not spurning vegetables, or stirring up debates, he could be found napping in unusual places such as behind a couch, or the driver's seat of a parked car.
Joe liked nothing more than to be the center of family life, evidenced by an office adorned with pictures of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He was an armchair politico, a gun enthusiast, a handyman, admirably independent, and like his nickname suggests, always up for a good cup-o'-joe. Though his role in life varied depending on when you knew him, he was always consistent in exemplifying his core values and beliefs, even when things went wrong, and even when he stood alone.
Though Joe lived a full and rewarding life, dotted with experiences most people will only read about in fiction, and exhibiting resilience young men would envy, he eventually did reach the conclusion of a life-time of smoking cigarettes. When Joe was diagnosed with cancer, he thought first of his family, and not desiring to draw out the grief the situation warranted, decided to make no effort to prolong his life. He left the world as he had lived in it: dignified and brave, doing what he thought was right, and looking after his family first. He left behind the memories of a living legend, and if the world only knew, it would surely mourn its loss.
https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/bonita-ca/jose-diaz-4599528
Jose and Kathy Rixham