Text and Photographs by
Eduardo Barraza

PART I

A speed limit set at 25 miles per hour
and plenty of stop signs make Avenida
del Yaqui a street of slow-moving
traffic.  Avenida del Yaqui, or Yaqui
Avenue, is the main street of the Town
of Guadalupe, one of the smallest
communities in Arizona, and rich in
traditions and customs.  The street
signs seem to set more than the pace
of the traffic; they also set the beat of
Guadalupe’s ancient heart, a heart
palpitating with contemporary rhythm.  

Upon this town of less than six
thousand inhabitants and
approximately one square-mile of
land, a century of ethnic pride and
struggle rests.  Founded around the
beginning of the 20th Century by Yaqui
Indians from Sonora, Guadalupe
retains many of their attitudes,
ceremonies and ways.  Its name,
though, symbolizes the people’s rooted
devotion to Catholicism, to which
many Yaquis converted centuries ago.  
Today, the cultural and demographic
blending spells out her defined and
unique character, and shapes her
unassuming, yet strong sense of
dignity and value.  Surrounded by
much bigger and faster growing urban
and suburban cities, the town has
preserved well her humble identity.  
Guadalupe is decidedly herself.

Avenida del Yaqui is Guadalupe’s
social and economic hub, and where
businesses and community centers
open their doors to residents and
visitors.  The streets’ names in
Spanish make a linguistic statement in
a state of English-only advocates:
Calle Iglesia; Calle Maravilla; Calle
San Angelo.  Yet, most of Guadalupe’s
people are bilingual in English and
Spanish, and some also speak Yaqui.  
Here, most residents are related or
know each other, so visitors are
spotted almost immediately.  They are
looked at with a glance of distrust, but
also with a mixture of friendliness and
shyness.

West of Avenida del Yaqui, on Calle
Iglesia, or Church Street, two white
temples stand next to each other.  
Their position in front of a large dirt
plaza, make the buildings resemble
two white doves, resting peacefully in
the middle of the desert.  They are the
Yaqui Temple and the Catholic Church.
Their togetherness epitomize
Guadalupe’s religious believes,
coexisting in fraternal proximity.  

Just north of San Angelo street, a man
sells oranges and tangerines from the
bed of his truck.  The citric colors
contrast with the somewhat somber
landscape of Guadalupe’s streets,
where people of all ages walk on this
winter morning.  Others gather in the
front yards of their homes; making
semi-circles, they stand next to each
other chatting and laughing.  Sitting on
chairs, a father and his son quietly
enjoy a soft drink, and the warm
sunlight of this Saturday morning.  A
man driving a white car slows down on
Avenida del Yaqui’s center lane, and
approaching the fruit vendor asks him
for the location of Las Fuentes Health
Clinic.  Courteously, the vendor points
out a small building south of San
Angelo, but kindly warns the visitor:  
“The clinic is closed on
Saturdays!”          

It is in this town, and on this avenue,
where an admirable story of
compassion and service for people
suffering emerges.  In the very core of
this struggling community, a man
responds to the calling of his own
heart, determined to heal the pain and
illness of his own people.  His name:
John Molina, Doctor John Molina, a
Guadalupe native, and founder of Las
Fuentes.  The son of a full-blooded
Yaqui man, and a Mexican-Apache
woman, Dr. Molina is indisputably a
predestined individual.  His work and
contribution, aimed at bettering the
health of Guadalupe’s inhabitants have
not only fulfilled its purpose, but have
created a paradigm of dedication, hard
work, and inspiration. Today, Las
Fuentes Health Clinic of Guadalupe
stands out not only for its invaluable
service to the community, but for the
inner and healing strength found in
such a small building. The clinic is
more than a caring facility; it’s a
source of compassionate force.

Dr. Molina’s departing point could be traced to 1974, when he joined the Navy.  
“That was a good experience –says Dr. Molina– because it got me outside of
Guadalupe to see another world.  Living in Guadalupe is all you know, all you live,
all you experience, good and bad.  The Navy widened my horizons, and allowed
me to see other worlds and cultures; it helped me to see my own culture from the
outside in.  During this time, I became very interested in the helping professions.  
When I looked back into Guadalupe, I saw that it was struggling, not only
economically, but with a lot of issues: drug abuse, alcoholism, and a lot of poverty.  
In the Navy I got a chance to breathe and learn on my own, but I also saw the
needs in Guadalupe.  I decided to come back and help in any way I could.”   

After that eye-opening experience, Dr. Molina became involved in social work, and
went on to pursue a degree from Arizona State University.  “When I was working on
my Bachelor’s degree, I was also a social worker in Guadalupe – he remembers.  “In
the late 70’s and early 80’s, I would visit people to help them get their utilities, food,
and other needs.  It was during this time that I saw a lot of them literally dying in
their homes.  They would not see the doctor because they did not have money, they
were embarrassed and shy to go see the doctor.  The cultural differences were
pretty obvious. People felt uncomfortable to go outside of Guadalupe to see a White
doctor; they couldn’t understand.  I saw people taking care of themselves at home;
they would take herbal remedies, go see a natural healer, but they were still sick.”

The event that really made an impression on Dr. Molina was the time when he visited
an ill man.  “I saw one of our people, this Mexican that was treating his big toe with
herbs and aloe vera.  When he showed it to me, the toe was rotten and decaying.  I
was really impacted by what people were suffering, just because they felt
uncomfortable or did not have money to see the doctor.  And those who did see the
doctor had the bottles of medication in their house, but they were not taking it
because they did not know how or why.  The doctor would explain everything to
them, but being the proud people that they are, and not to embarrass the doctor,
they would just shake their heads, say ‘okay,’ and walk away.  But they really had
no idea what was going on with them, or why they needed to take the pills.  I was
really troubled by this.”

This troubling experience and a friend impelled Dr. Molina to devote himself to a
deeper latitude of service.  The friend was Doctor Lincoln Westman, a White
psychiatrist who was working with some of Guadalupe’s residents.  “When I told him
how I felt about the people, he challenged me by saying: ‘why don’t you become a
doctor.’  I said: ‘how, me?’  I was in my early 30’s, married and had four young
children.  I did not know how I was going to do it.  I was working as a Social Worker
through a program with the Town, and finishing my degree at ASU.  Still, Dr.
Westman said: ‘maybe you should be the doctor.’ So I thought about it. With what
the doctor said, and encouragement from other friends, I decided to get in the
medical field.  I completed my degree, and I took some pre-requisite classes.  I
studied for the exam, applied, and I was accepted into the University of Arizona
College of Medicine in Tucson in 1986.”  
A MAN WITH A VISION:  Dr. John Molina, in front of the health clinic he
established in the Town of Guadalupe. His work and dedication represents
an enormous contribution of service, sacrifice, and compassion for the people.

Having been admitted into medical school represented the first step for Dr. Molina to
begin planning to open a clinic in Guadalupe.  “I thought that what this town needed
was just a small clinic, where people could feel comfortable, speak their language,
and where they did not have to worry about having to pay. A clinic that would
understand their culture and family, and would make them feel welcome, and where
they could just walk in.”  After four years of medical school, Dr. Molina graduated in
1990, and went through four more years of specialty training in obstetrics, which he
finished in 1994. He returned to Phoenix to work for a hospital.  

“That was a perfect opportunity –he explains– because having a job, I decided it was
the time, so I started looking for a place for the clinic. My family has always been a
part of Guadalupe. In fact, most of my family attends the Presbyterian Church of
Guadalupe, and I’ve been coming to this church since I was a little child. So when I
approached the church about maybe helping us open up the clinic, they let me use a
small little building to start up a volunteer clinic.”  In August of 1995, Dr. Molina and
his mother, Maria Elena Garcia, started coming out in the evenings, after work, and
on Saturdays to clean up the building, and get it ready for the clinic.  “In the
beginning, we never asked for money or grants –reveals the doctor. “We decided we
would just come on weekends and in our free time, and provide care for people.  My
first patient came to see me in September of 1995. She was a young Yaqui girl with
a skin infection.”  (To be continued.)

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Copyright © 2006 Hispanic Institute of Social Issues
Bilingual Community Expression
Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues
A hurting
community and a
man determined
to heal it
The Sorrow of my People
BARRIOZONA