(Article printed in Joaquin Magazine in April 2021)

By Jill HH Lipka

This past Thursday, my husband and I finally made time to visit La Paz, the place Helen and Cesar Chavez called home in their later years and where they are buried. 

The area is now a national monument complete with a visitors center. We knew the Center was closed but I had sincerely hoped the grounds would be open. Much to my great joy, the gates were indeed wide open!

The Monument is located in an unassuming small foothill town called Keene. The place rests snugly in a beautiful natural landscape framed by hills, creeks, mountains, and an abundance of wildlife. I have admired it through many seasons while heading up the pass to Tehachapi and beyond.

We parked as the noon hour approached and the sun was just right warming the grounds coaxing little spring blossoms and buds from their long winter sleep. My photos don’t do the place justice as they cannot provide the smell of clean fresh morning air and moist fertile soil. The sounds of birds chattering and lizards scurrying could not be captured either. With this, I am left to just tell you that except for the powerful rumbling of a train, the place is quiet and heavenly.

We were alone on the grounds with no rush to be anywhere but right there. I wandered around seeking and finding the promise of hope and renewal. I have never stopped holding in awe the miracle of seeds sprouting and growing into all the things that sustain us. Somehow in this place, a sacred place, the meaning took on much greater dimensions. I felt honored to visit the gravesite of this couple who continuously endeavored to bring hope and justice to those who literally do the backbreaking work of feeding us each day. 

I was suffused with quiet joy in recognizing the care taken in maintaining the courtyard and surrounding trails. At the same time, a part of me left feeling weary knowing the continued poor treatment of farm workers in America and specifically, in the San Joaquin Valley today. 

Please, as you raise a fresh vegetable, fruit, or nut to your lips, take a moment to recognize a human being planted, grew and harvested that gift you hold in your hand. We take their backbreaking low paid work for granted… who do you think wraps the little rubber bands around your bundles of green onions?

When we are grateful we have no time for ill will. When we are grateful we are far more able to see injustice and what role we play in the vast web of all things connected on this planet. Once injustice is recognized it cannot be unseen. Our response to things recognized is what defines our lives.

Copyright 2021 Jill HH Lipka

© 2025 Jill HH Lipka All Rights Reserved.