Manrique Gonzalez

(1880 – 1976)

 Manrique Gonzalez was born October 19, 1880.  His parents, Juan Francisco Gonzalez and Juliana Rodriquez Campos, lived in a small town in the northern part of the state of Coahuila named Nadores.

Manrique’s father was a school teacher in the surrounding farming districts.  He and his wife had 15 children, ten boys and five girls.  Manrique was the seventh child.  He left home when he was 14 years old, living first with an uncle in Torreon, Coahuila, Mexico and later in San Pedro close by, but keeping his whereabouts a secret for fear of being forced to return home.

At San Pedro he was employed by American railroad contractors and for the first time heard the word “Mormon.”  He became acquainted with David A. Stevens and wife and with Samuel Jarvis and his son George.  When he came to know the principles and beliefs that actuated the lives of these men, he as most favorably impressed.  He wanted to be like them, to do the things they did, which to him seemed perfect.  They didn’t use tobacco, tea, or coffee, neither did they drink liquor, and they kept the Sabbath day holy.  Even more important, they treated their workmen with consideration and kindness.  Life could offer nothing better than to allow him to remain always in their society.  Nothing gratified him more that to take his money to Mrs. Stevens to save for him.  When it had reached the fabulous sum of sixty pesos, he sent it home to his father.

When he moved with the contractors to Chihuahua where railroad grading was continued and the job was completed, he gladly accepted an invitation to move with the company to colonia Juarez where he took up residence with the Mormons.  From 1898 until the preset time (1966) he has remained a part of society in the colonies.  The only exception to this is the period he spent in the United States in search of higher education.  In Colonia Juarez he lived with first one family and then another, all the time working to learn the English language.  Despite his age and his adult growth, he entered Sarah Clayson’s Primary Department and took his first schooling in the language with little tots in the first grade.  He was kind to them and they responded well to the friendly young man who sat on an adult-sized chair brought in especially for him because the school benches were too small.  In five years he had mastered the essentials in elementary instruction and was given the customary certificate of graduation from the eighth grade in the spring of 1903.  He was then twenty-two years of age.

His progress in the study of religion was also rapid.  His eager questions about Mormonism were answered to his satisfaction.  On September 2, 1899, at the age of  18, he was baptized by John c. Harper and confirmed the following day as a member of the church by Anthony W. Ivins.  He later said, it was “the happiest day of my life.  I was no longer alone, I had brothers and sisters who cared for me and were interested in my welfare.  I felt bound to the community in every way.”

As soon as the hands that had confirmed him and bestowed upn him the Gift of the Holy Ghost had been lifted from his head, the venerable Patriarch, John Holt arose from his seat and walked solemnly to the stand.  In the hush that followed this pretentious action, he began to speak.  His first words were unintelligible, then all realized they were listening to one speaking in tongues. When he had finished, the congregation waited eagerly for interpretation. When it came, it concerned Manrique’s conversion and future:  that if he remained true to the covenants made in the waters of baptism his power and influence for good would be felt throughout the nation; that his baptism would open the door through which many of his people would pass; that he would be a saviour to his own family. “What surprised me,” said Manrique later, “was why interpretation was necessary. I understood every word of it.”

In October, 1903, Professor Guy C. Wilson, in a characteristically discerning decision, asked Manrique to accept position at the Juarez Academy as a Spanish teacher. To fortify Manrique’s extreme lack of self-confidence, Professor Wilson promised to remain in the room to help should annoying situations arise, and bolster Manrique with his support until he grew more self-assure.  On this condition Manrique accepted. He had little formal study in the Spanish language, but because it was his native tongue, he learned quickly. In the first year he learn the fundamentals along with the other students. He also took lessons on the side. By teaching and studying together, he felt that he learned far more than he taught. He graduated from the institution in 1910 at the age of 28.

For seven years he held his place as a faculty member, taking class after class of students through De Torno’s Spanish Grammar, leading them into supplementary reading fields, drilling them on the rules to govern correct speech, and encouraging them to make use of the language in conversation groups he organize. He knew that free discussion and constant use of Spanish was the shortest road to fluency it was also his best means of learning English, and both he and the classes he taught discovered that studying two languages made each a supplement to the other.

The prediction uttered the day of his confirmation was literally fulfilled. Through him, several members of his family followed him to the colonies and life was changed for them as it had in for him. He was the first Mexican citizen to graduate from the Academy, but not the last. He was but the example that led dozens of others to follow in his steps in the years that followed.

By 1912 when the Madero Revolution broke up the Juarez Stake, he had a wife and five children. With these and little else he entered the Agricultural College in Logan, Utah, where two more children were born, and by his own efforts, coupled with encouragement from professors and friends, earned the credentials to head an experimental agricultural station. When he failed to achieve this ambition, he took position in the U.S. Department of Agriculture in New Mexico, that position he held for six years. During that time he worked for the United States government, he developed by patient experimentation and hours of hard work, the New Mexico Pinto Bean.

At the height of his career, his family life broke up and he was released from his influential position through discrimination against his religion. He returned to his native land and settled in Colonia Dublan with the words of A.W. Ivins ringing in his ears: “Manrique,” he said, “would you like to be rich and happy? “Well,” he continued when Manrique nodded vigorously, “it’s in your hands.”  In his hands! That was all he had besides what he had learned through study and experience. But with those he went to work.

He married Regina Del Palacio about 1920 and began a happy married life. In the course ofd raising six children he preached by example what he called the Gospel of Righteous Farming. First on rented lands, later on his own acres, he demonstrated correct methods of raising alfalfa, wheat and other grains and finally with orchards he used scientific methods that raised standards in farming.

Within a few years his financial standing was an enviable one. In 1966, at the age of 85 he is a contented, retired farmer living in Colonia Dublan, Chihuahua, enjoying the fruits of his labors in a comfortable and well furnished home, and is respected and esteemed by all who know him.

But only he knows how far it is from the life of a peon to the prominence of an agricultural expert, or what has gone into the fulfilling of the promise made him by Patriarch Holt, or the pride he takes in his numerous posterity. A son, Ernesto, is an eminent physician. A grandson, Carlos, appeared in “I Believe,” a column of the Improvement Era.  And there are auxiliary leaders and priesthood quorum directors and church workers sprinkled through his descendents. One grandson, Miguel, recently serving in the northern Mexican mission (1966) with his companion were having little success in the city of Zacatecas.  Other missionaries before them had failed to make successful contact, much less perform a single baptism. Returning to their room one night, Miguel said, “There must be someone in this big city ready for baptism, let’s pray about it.”  Accordingly they both knelt in first one and then the other humbly prayed for guidance to that one individual. It was 10 p.m. before their Ernest please had come to an end. Then Miguel said, “let’s go right now and find him tonight.” And in spite of the lateness of the hour they knocked on the door of the most pretentious house they could find. The doors open by the lady of the house and heard housecoat, and already for bed. “We have a message for you,” said Miguel when she met them. “Come in,” she said, and led them to a reception room. “But first,” she said, “I will call my husband to hear your message, too.”  He soon appeared in robe and slippers, having already retired. Before they could give all of the message she said, “wait! My children was hear this, too.”  Soon, tousleheaded and sleepy-eyed, they were in the room. The message was given. In six days the entire family was ready for baptism. The man, being politically influential, gained other investigators and within a few weeks a branch of 30 souls was organized.  Manrique’s determination and zeal still lives on.

Nelle Spilsbury Hatch

Stalwarts South Of the Border page 212