Yvette Ramos, Oral history interview transcription.

Interviews
Puerto Ricans--New Jersey
Oral history

A transcription of the oral history interview conducted with Yvette Ramos.

Christopher López.

Interview conducted on Friday, December 22, 2023.

Courtesy of Christopher López. Copyright held by Christopher López. Restrictions are only in regards to publication; any researcher may view or copy any document in the collection.

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[LINK TO Negron-Figueroa Family TRANSCRIPT]

PDF

English

Oral history (transcription)

1950s through 1980s

5:07 / 10:18

Yvette: Yeah, it's hard when you try when you know, you want to communicate with people that either went through it or know about it, but one, it's hard to talk about, and two, to find a lot of people from back then, and, uh, me at least when I was so young, I didn't know the older community back then, you know, it was all kids or whatever, you know, but then losing friends was, you know, during that time, sad, who was my age, you know?

Chris: So you had friends that you ended up losing?

Yvette: Yeah, it was just one boy.. And for the life of me, I tried to remember his name, because he was like, was so close to me, but I couldn't. I can't remember his name. And I think I tried to block out a lot of that time. I really did. Because it was hard. It was like, the day before we were hanging out. I think we were playing pinball at my mom's store because she had the store right across the street.

And then in the middle of the night, all hell breaks loose. And then in that same fire there was a woman, young girl you know, just had a baby, the baby was maybe weeks old, a month or so. And her husband or boyfriend at the time he was working like a shift during the night. The fire breaks out they found her at a window with a baby clutched. You know that one story? And she that's how they found her with the baby pushed by the window. And when they went to lift her up to take her out that's when everybody saw. Then her husband or boyfriend, after that lost his mind. Like he wasn't the same and he ended up on the streets. They blame themselves a lot. He literally wanted to find the person. All of them are deemed to be arsons at the time, it was like they were trying to get rid of everybody. But yeah, that was a hard one.

You know my mom went, whatever time that wasn't in the middle of the night. I was out the window screaming my eyes out. And she went down and opened the store so that the firemen can go in and figured they have to drink milk, because of the smoke inhalation. So she just opened up the store and started giving the milk and coffee and whatever they wanted families that were already out or that made it out. She made sure that they, you know, they're safe and if it they needed something. I remember the one one guy that he had his wife and I don't know how many kids he ran downstairs and told her to throw the kids out the window. And he caught them one by one caught them all. And when she jumped she lived. So he was able to save that family like that. I think later on there was a rumor like how did he get out with his whole family but people didn't know the story behind that. Beautiful beautiful.

Chris: Do you remember the family’s name?

Yvette: I can't remember that's what I'm trying because we were so young. I was trying to even look through the through the history and I can't remember the name. It was a black family. And the kids weer young, little, I don't know how many there were either, and I know he threw one one by one out the window. We were watching all that happening. The one girl that jumped another girl friend of mine from school, she jumped out the window. She wound up landing feet first. And when she did, her legs came up and her hips just collapsed into her into the upper part of her so she was like in full body cast. I don't know for how long. We saw that too, so.

That was the biggest one for me. Then there was the twelfth street, I think there was one and twelfth street and Washington Street. Well I didn't get to, well my mom tried to keep me from going to the Pinter to see what was going on but we weren't here because where I live, I was at 116 14th Street right on the first floor above the bar, that was a bar there. We were in fear, we thought it could be us, we could be next, it's a corner property that they were looking for these properties like that. Nice, good big building. It was bad, yea.

10:25 / 15:38

Yvette: I remember that through most of them my father would organize the marches. And with the group of people that you know, he used to belong to the CUNA, you know what that is, Citizens United in New Action.

Chris: They had an office on Washington Street, no?

Yvette: On Willow, he had a few places there was one on Willow further down on ninth or something where they bombed. Because they really didn't want him there. Because he was a big, big, big voice for the city and for the people. City Hall they hated him. Cappiello was back then was the man right?

Chris: Yea, well thats why I ask about your father right? Because he was a pivotal figure but there isn’t a lot of information about him.

Yvette: He wasn't liked. He wasn't wanted, he was hated to the point that they bombed the office, he wasn't there, thank God. But they they, it was either a message to shut the hell up and stop, or they expected him to be there. And what did he do? Shut it down and opened up further up on 10th and Willow. I mean, he wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to stop.

Chris: Why was your dad doing these things? Why do you think your dad was doing these things?

Yvette: I can't even I don't know. I don't know the back history of it. But I know that from the little that my mom has told me that he kind of started in New York. When they had those protests over there, you know, Spanish Harlem up there. He was sort of part of that. Remembering I guess, just remember when they had the big protests where they put, I don't know if you know the story, but they have put the garbage out onto the street. Because they they just said, well, we don't want to pick it up then this is what's gonna happen. They started burning it. And so he was kind of part of that history. And I think that stuck to him where, you know, the unfairness, he wanted to make sure that there was a quality and it wasn't. So from the city and coming down to here and then seeing what's going on here. And sitting, seeing the people that were sitting in the seats at City Hall. And mean, there's no other way to say but the racism was strong.

Yvette: Hoboken was majority Puerto Rican. It was very, very much Puerto Rican. So he wanted to, I guess, make a difference. Make a difference in their life and make a difference for the city too. So they didn't have a voice and he was their voice. And he would hold these meetings with them and he would go out in the streets and protest and to go to City Hall. I even remember an incident when they were electing the mayor and one of the elections and he was inside and we because I went with him everywhere. We're all outside just waiting. And he just said he tells me as an 11, 12 year old, “if you see me come out with a smile on my face, we're good, but if you see me come out with my face, that face, we start the chant”. And what was the chant, so he said it was basically recall, recall, recall and to keep repeating it no matter where he went no matter what he did, no matter what happened to keep repeating it. And so when I saw him come out with the face, and he said now, I went outside and he started yelling my little, my little self recall, recall (laughs). Everybody would hear them call, recall, recall, and it was big.



16:29 / 22:00

Yvette: (Anecdote from a protest on washington Street) The homeowners, basically were kind of like giving in to whatever, like they wanted either their buildings burned down, either for insurance or for the money that they were being offered at the time, which all the rumors were, because they wanted to make it what it is today with the condos and stuff. And so they wanted to kill this person and they surrounded her (a building owner). Cops were all around, but they (protesters) weren't letting the cops in. When my dad came out, the cops surrounded him. It was almost like in a movie, you see them, then the whole crowd move away from that person and surround the cops that were surrounding my dad. And they were saying you're not taking him, you're going to have to go through all of us. They shit their pants, they were like, ah, you know, they're saying why just, you know, tell you people and to calm down and let it go. And he goes, Well, you're gonna have to get away. Let me go. Because you know, in other words, I'm sure there was other words, I just can't remember the words but basically they had us separate and then this crowd surrounded my dad to protect him. And it was during that time because of the fires. They were they just any homeowner that they thought was with these people that wanted to burn the city down and burn out the Puerto Ricans. That's what he was trying to protect. You know?

Chris: It seems like your father was loved.

Yvette: He was, he was loved by the people, he was.

Chris: Was he feared?

Yvette: He wasn't feared by them. He was feared by City Hall because he would not go away. He would not shut up. I mean, to the point of bombing his office, they you know, they just didn't want him there.

Chris: Do you know of anyone in the city today that would say my family is still here because your father fought for them to be here?

Yvette: I’m sure there are, I can't, I don't remember names. There was a lot of people obviously on Willow Avenue because that's where his kind of territory was, but he was protected the most. All of it down those blocks, he would hang out on the stoops with them and all this stuff. And he was up one thing I also remember when, whenever he was with me, we would cross the street. And a car would go like this (gesture for them to cross the street). He said, “don't move” and he would tell the car to go and I always found that strange until one day, he did it all the time, and I said why do you, why if they're giving us a chance to cross, that why don't you let us you know why don't we? He goes because we don't know who they are. They could be asking us to cross to run us over. And so that was that fear also and obviously I grew up with that. So wherever I go when I'm at a corner until this day, if somebody goes like this (gestures to cross) I'm looking at the light to make sure it's red and if there’s no red and it's just whatever or if it’s a stop sign I go but it was nothing, um go (gestures for the car to go first). It stayed in my brain. He never let me cross the street if somebody said Go, because they were offering it was a crazy time. But every for every fire that would happen, and they would, you know, bring the structure down to rubble, we'd have a march and throughout the march in Hoboken, it was it was kind of planned where we would march to each location, stop at that burned location, they would either have a prayer, or he would say something. Noy say, but scream stuff, X persons died here. And whatever, the next one, it would be like, you know, the blood was shed here from our people, and blah, blah, blah, you know, all those things that, that he had.

Chris: That needed to be said.

Yvette: Yeah. And then we would just march, march, march, and then we'd always wound up at the city hall. He’d make his big speech there, and then we, you know, everybody goes their separate ways. And we did a lot of those. And he did like, he did organize them more, a lot of them. But when I was looking through some of the history myself, it never said that he did that. It said that other people would organize it and he was just kind of a part of it, or it was and it's sad because I had recordings, tapes of his meetings, some of them from City Hall, some of them in his meetings with the people what they were going to do. And you could see the feel the intensity in his voice and how he would speak and everything. And I can't I lost them, for the life of me, I can't find them and I'm sad about that.

Chris: Did you move?

Yvette: I moved a few times, so but yeah, I had those recordings and I can't find them. I'm sure there's somewhere in a old box somewhere but I've moved so many times. I don't know.

Chris: Where was your mom during all this?

22:05 / 26:50

Yvette: She wouldn't like she would go to some of the protests or the marches but not like she had you know, she had attended the store (Yvette’s mother, Delia, owned a grocery store in Hoboken). But yeah, she went through, she went through it too. They were amicable that you know, obviously for me for my sake. She didn't agree with a lot of the things that he did or maybe included me in a lot of times I would just add one database and she wouldn't know what was going because I wanted to be a part of that. I don't know why that age. I'm glad I was.

Chris: How old was he when he moved here?

Yvette: Yeah, he was young but yeah, it was yeah, he was butr my grandmother

Chris: His mother?

Yvette: Yeah, she was from Puerto Rico. And she lived a few places around town as well, always in fear. You know, with my aunt and my uncle somewhere. But yeah, he lived mostly with her but at some point he started living in the office, I think the tenth and Willow one, he started actually living sleeping there. And because it was that's another reason I think they couldn’t stand him because it was a nonprofit. Right? So he wasn't getting paid for what he was doing it was just from his free will and people would donate like whatever he, his needs were or whatever. Never asked for a dime from anybody. He would do a lot of events. Block parties, hard for him to get permits, but they could not. They couldn't deny it all the time. Because if you have, you know, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. You have to, again, that's the equality. Well, how come so and so el blanquito can have a block party and all this, but then we can't have ours and Hispanic events, you know. So in order to not hear his big voice, they made sure, you know, they wanted to keep it calm, they would approve his permits for it. But he had a lot of those he did a lot on the block, obviously. He had some on Washington. I remember down river road before it was what it is today. So yeah, mucho baile, a lot of and dancing. He would get orquestas from wherever and they would come in. And it was always obviously the, you know, the Hispanic community. And they did ask for donations, because again, it was to help the families that from the fires to help the organization. stay afloat because they (the city) were not helping.

36:27 / 38:31

Yvette: Like now, it's like when they say when it rains it pours. Like recently that in Union City they kept having one fire after the other after the other are suspicious on why? Those of us that lived during that time in Hoboken first thing that came to my mind is another Hoboken, that's what they're trying to do. And you know kind of died down a little bit but it was one after the other every week there was a fire in Union City. And you see it coming up the way it is right so. And if I didn't know, the back history of what happened here and lived through it I wouldn't like oh my god such a coincidence. There are no coincidences.

Chris: Its cause and effect homie (laughs) its context. Do not live without context; It's a dangerous business.

Yvette: To this day when I come back because obviously my sister lives here and you know, I have some friends and stuff but you know, I come down. But just coming down sometimes driving down and I’ll pass by obviously the places, you know that some of those memories will come back. And then you know, it's like I'm driving and you’ll see the blanquitos that just cross the street, not giving two flying shits about nothing. You know, and it's, you know, it's hard to say but it's like, you know, if you only knew the that desire, I want to just hit you in my car. Because you are you have this privilege, because there was bloodshed for it. You would not be walking these streets if it wasn't for the blood that was shed here.

45:09 /

Chris: I’d like to see pictures if you have?

Yvette: I look through her (mother) albums. She has a lot of pictures. One of them the album, the museum book. There's a picture of my grandfather and my my brother. My brothers, my grandfather and my mom, grandmother on her side, my mom's side sitting on the stoop across the street where from where they live that 161 14th Street used to be like something else obviously. So they live that 161 My grandfather had a cuchfrito right downstairs so he was the owner of the cuchifrito. And my mom took over the cuchifrito then that disappeared once he passed away (Delia’s husband Monroy) so it's just all this history back then everything. And for us everything was on 14th Street because we would you know we're up and down that's where my grandmother lived. That's when my mom came to live with my older brother there's with her and all this stuff so. Well, we have pictures of I think I think there's a picture that mommy has when we were sitting on that stoop. I remember and back then even young, I would be able to go up and up and down the street and the block and everybody watched out for you. You know, like, we were being raised by the, by the village. I couldn't go down to 10th Street park, a little older now, teenage years, and you know, I would smoke my cigarettes over there, escondida. And my mother would find out because there was no secrets. Yeah she, she went one day and I actually jumped out of the what do you call it, the gazebo. I saw her coming up the steps I'm like this, I'm like, uuu, and I jumped out and I ran home and I got my beating that day. Somebody, one of those viejas told her that I was there hanging out. I was young, I was really young. I shouldn't have been doing that anyway but whatever it was back then.

It's like now I tell my daughter you don't know what we, we, we drank from a hose, we, our pool was the pompa from the, from the corner, when we put a sprinkler on. And that's where you know, close to block. Nobody gave a shit that back then and that's where we we did our you know, we had our fun and we survived you know kick the can playing and all this stuff and so it was those fun times and you would like you know playing like that back then. She, my daughter came to me once said oh no we were playing this new game called manhunt. I'm like, I started laughing and laughing and laughing and I sat back I said listen my child manhunt is older than me, and I played it back in the day and we now you have a fear of going into hiding wherever you have to like very, back then we went into people's friggin houses that we didn't even know. We're playing manhunt! Okay, go hide under the behind the sofa what up because back then it's like people wherever and you were protected.

Christopher López

Yvette Ramos. Yvette is the fourth daughter of Carmen Figueroa. In the Negron-Figueroa family, Felix Negron was the first person to migrate to Hoboken from Bayamon, Puerto Rico in 1959. He moved to 1219 Willow Ave and was later joined by his wife, Isabel, and their daughter Carmen Negron. Their migration came as a result of Carmen’s pregnancy of her first born son, Wilfredo Figueroa and the lack of job opportunities on the island. Before becoming pregnant, Carmen was an au pair to a Puerto Rican family on the island that paid little money and treated her poorly. Her father, Felix, was responsible for the family’s move to the United States in search of better opportunities. In Hoboken he established a business as a cuchifrito restaurant and candy store. After his passing his daughter Carmen would take over the business. The Candy Store, as it was called, was located at 161 14th Street and ran successfully from 1966 to 1997. Felix as well lived in the building and Carmen and her children lived across the street at 116 14th Street where she raised five of her six children, Antonio, Carmen, Nilda, Yvette, and Mariyln. Wilfredo, the eldest, was raised by his grandparents above the candy store. This came as a result of having to leave him in their care as she was only 17 when she had him. Four children, Wildredo, Antonio, Carmen, and Nilda share a father, Domingo Figueroa, who left the family early on as he could not financially support them. Carmen’s fourth child, Yvette, is the daughter of the prominent Puerto Rican civil rights activist Juan Garcia who established the organization CUNA, Citizens United for New Action in Hoboken. Yvette, and Carmen’s other children, were introduced to activism at a young age due to their relationship with Juan. They participated in tenants rights demonstrations, and helped people in the community with translations for court appearances. Marylin, Carmen’s youngest child, was fathered by Jorge Monroy, an Ecuadorian migrant who spent forty years married to Carmen and who most of the children consider their father. The Negron/Figueroa family were a part of a burgeoning Puerto Rican community in Hoboken between the 1950’s and 1980’s which was ultimately devastated by violent displacement and an arson epidemic due to gentrification. Carmen Negron was the last of her family that remained living in Hoboken. She passed this year, 2024 in July.