Post by the Scribe on Oct 22, 2012 11:51:35 GMT -5
Gilbert “Gib” Ronstadt, Class of 1928
Businessman, Community Service
“Canciones de mi Padre” a June 21, 1995 editorial in the Arizona Daily Star, pays tribute to Gilbert Ronstadt and his underlying influence on the Tucson community. The editorial is “soft-spoken”, as was the man whom it praises.
“Gilbert Ronstadt, who died in Tucson this weekend (June 17, 1995), was known to most people as the father of singer Linda Ronstadt. Some may also have known him as the inspiration of her highly acclaimed Spanish-language album, Canciones de mi Padre. “They knew only a fraction of the story. “To Tucsonans, Gilbert Ronstadt was more than a father to superstar Linda and former police chief Peter; he was, in many ways, a father to Tucson itself.
“Gilbert Ronstadt was born a decade into the 20th century, on June 1, 1911. Arizona had yet to become a state; Congress Street was a dusty road through the middle of tiny downtown. When he died, some 84 years later, Tucson would be a vibrant, growing and eminently livable city – due in no small part to him.
“As a young man, Ronstadt entertained Tucsonans with his beautiful voice, singing on both the radio and on nightclub and theater stages around town. Friends said he could have been a professional, but family responsibilities – including carrying on the family hardware business – came first.
“Ronstadt could not abandon his love of things musical, however, and when he started his own family, he made sure to pass on that love of music to his children. He filled their home with mariachi music, and encouraged the family to sing together. (Gilbert’s two other children—Gretchen (Suzy) Jacome and Michael, are equally musical!)
“Fortunately, Ronstadt could not abandon his love for his hometown, either. After serving in World War II, he returned to focus on the needs of this rapidly growing city. He founded one of its first neighborhood associations, and stressed the need to preserve Tucson’s rich cultural heritage.
“He helped improve city services, getting dirt roads paved, and chairing the group that established Tucson’s first sewage system. “He led efforts to restore and revitalize downtown, and served on numerous civic boards, including those of the Chamber of Commerce, the Tucson Trade Bureau and the Arizona Historical Society. He worked to preserve Spanish missions on both sides of the US-Mexican border, and decades before NAFTA, he helped establish trade ties between Tucson and Mexico.
“Always described as a quiet, unassuming man, Gilbert Ronstadt was content to stand outside the spotlight that shone on other members of his family. But in Tucson, his good works and love of community—like the mariachi classics he helped reintroduce to the world through his famous daughter—live on.”
In 1990 the Tucson Chamber of Commerce added a new award to its annual Man and Woman of the Year awards ceremony. That award, the Founders’ Award—for his long-term community service—went to Gilbert Ronstadt.
GILBERT RONSTADT 1911-1995
"I contacted Gilbert Ronstadt because I wanted to meet Linda’s father, but what I discovered was a rare intellect who had led one of the most fascinating lives of anyone I wrote about in these pages. He spent every Wednesday with me one summer sharing his stories. They were the best days of my writing career." Daniel Buckley
MEMORIES…of music and more
by Daniel Buckley on Oct. 26, 1994, under Living
NOTE: TWO PHOTOS/SIDEBAR/PHOTO MUG: Linda Ronstadt
Community leader Gilbert Ronstadt has led a colorful life in his 83 years here.
Memories surround Gilbert Ronstadt.
He still lives in the home he built in 1938, a home with 14-inch thick walls of adobe made with mud from his front yard. The ceiling is fashioned of pine he bought for 10 cents a log from his neighbor, artist Maynard Dixon. Within this home lie the things Ronstadt cherishes most. There are photos of his family – his wife, Ruthmary, who died in 1982, and children: Peter (Tucson’s former police chief), Suzy (Jacome), Michael and singing star Linda Ronstadt.
In the busiest room, the family room, hangs a gold record of Linda’s “Canciones de mi Padre.’ Gilbert, 83, is the proud padre who inspired the collection of mariachi music, which has fueled a resurgence in its popularity.
In another room hangs a poster of the art used on the cover of the album. Also hanging there are several of his watercolors. Many of those were featured in her “Mas Canciones’ album.
Next to the framed record hangs a charro hat given to him by Luis Donaldo Colosio, the Mexican presidential candidate assassinated earlier this year whom Ronstadt had befriended. A serape lies on the couch. It was given to Ronstadt at the 1994 Tucson International Mariachi Conference by the great Mexican songstress Lola Beltran.
“That was a big surprise,’ Ronstadt laughed. “I thought I was going to be very nonchalant and toss it over my shoulder. It landed on my head.’
It’s a warm, comfortable home, where the quiet is broken by the laughter of grandchildren, the crowing of a rooster, the singing of birds.
Memories swim through Ronstadt’s head, as well. He recalls hitching a ride to school on the buckboard of a horse-drawn dump cart. He remembers Civil War veterans marching in parades when he was a child.
He remembers watching the movie serials spilling off the narrow screen and across the stairway to the balcony of a long-gone theater. And he remembers taking the 50 cents his mother gave him and his brother for a haircut, going to a half-price barber shop, and using the rest for movies and ice cream. “We came back looking like peeled radishes’ he laughs.
Ronstadt’s father was Federico Ronstadt, who moved to Tucson from Sonora, Mexico, in 1882. He started Ronstadt Hardware Company, which sold anything that was considered hardware – from cars to tools.
Ronstadt recalls the days when he and his father would take a rifle with them on business trips and shoot their lunch. And he remembers when the six-guns he and his brothers wore on their hips convinced the doorman at the plush Santa Rita Hotel they needn’t wear neckties to enter.
He remembers being caught by his mother at 1:30 a.m. as he and his brother excitedly listened over headphones to a radio set his brother had built.
“She was ready to give us hell for not going to sleep, so we put a pair of earphones on her,’ he said. “There was a guy playing the piano in Chicago and she was entranced. I don’t think we got to sleep until 5 a.m.’
He recalls writing a check for a hotel bill in Mexico on a piece of wrapping paper – and having it cashed. And he remembers the Great Depression when, working as a bill collector for his father, whose company was in receivership, he found that everyone was in the same boat.
There are ugly memories, too, such as the Ku Klux Klan taking the collection at the Baptist church across from the Sixth Avenue house he grew up in, and prejudices against Native Americans.
In one instance, one of his father’s employees reported incredulously that an Indian wanted to buy a Buick. “Sell him anything he wants,’ his father replied to the stunned salesman. He did, and he was paid several thousand dollars in cash, from a small satchel.
Music has had a big part in Ronstadt’s life. His father, who played the flute and a little guitar and piano, formed Tucson’s first civic orchestra, the Club Filarmónico before the turn of the century. The group had disbanded by the time of Gilbert’s birth, but his father was still active musically, playing flute with two violinists and a banjo player.
“Music in those days was mostly something you made up at home or listened to on phonograph records,’ Ronstadt recalled. “Music was in every backyard in the summer time, and in the winter, too, because it provided entertainment for family and friends. Where else did you go?’
His older sister, Luisa Espinel cq, was a renowned singer of operetta and Spanish folk music. Her recitals attracted international audiences.
“She was probably 50 years ahead of her time,’ Ronstadt said. “What she did was the type of intimate expression that could work so well with television.’
Espinel has another family distinction. She put together and published a collection of Spanish folk songs, titled “Canciones de mi Padre,’ a title later borrowed by her niece.
Music became especially important to Ronstadt as he entered the University of Arizona in the late 1920s and started serenading sorority girls.
“My ploy was to sing to the young ladies, and it worked,’ he said. “It was much quicker than dancing. I made much more progress that way, and it was cheaper, too.’
Ronstadt’s voice got him a job singing with a megaphone at the Rialto Theater. Soon after, he had a half-hour show of his own on KGAR radio singing sentimental favorites such as “Among My Souvenirs,’ “I’ll Always Be in Love with You’ and “All Alone.’
He remembers people calling in requests. “I had groupies,’ he said. “Old ladies in their 40s.’
Ronstadt also sang in clubs, and once was offered $125 a week to go to San Francisco with a band. It was great money for those days, but after figuring his expenses, Ronstadt decided to stay in Tucson.
Years later, Ronstadt passed the musical torch to his children. Peter excelled, singing in the Tucson Boys Choir and in high school with a group called the Night Beats. They put out a Billboard-charting song called “Lonesome Road Rock.’ Peter, Suzy and later Linda teamed up to form a folk group called The New Union Ramblers.
Linda, of course, went on to great fame, but the rest of the family still sings together informally. At this year’s Tucson Meet Yourself, Ronstadt proudly watched as daughter Suzy, sons Michael and Peter, nephew John, brother Ed and granddaughter Mindy shared their rich family harmonies with a crowd of several hundred, singing songs of their generation as well as Ronstadt’s and his father’s.
Not all of Ronstadt’s accomplishments came from music. After serving several years in the Army during World War II, he began organizing at home, founding one of Tucson’s first neighborhood associations and getting dusty Prince Road paved.
His community organizing experiences and familiarity with water issues through work for his father’s machinery and hardware business got him appointed head of the group creating Tucson’s first sewer system.
“My kids used to call me `Mon Sewer,’ ‘ he laughs.
Prior to that, the city dumped sewage in settling ponds along Silverbell Road, where the untreated excess would run into the Santa Cruz.
Disaster was diverted by that early action, he noted.
Ronstadt served on the board of the Desert Museum and the Tucson Festival Society. He chaired the Post-war Planning Committee, helping shape Tucson’s growth in the early 1950s. And he was active in international matters as well, spearheading an effort to turn Spanish missions north and south of the border into tourist attractions, and generally improving the climate of economic and cultural exchange along the border.
He remained active in the Ronstadt Hardware Company, even after his retirement, until its demise. Competition from chain stores, the decline of the cotton industry and the closure of the mines made it impossible for the downtown landmark to compete. “I couldn’t bring myself to go down when they auctioned the merchandise,’ he said.
For all his community influence, Ronstadt is happiest with those that are musical.
“Music to me is one of the things that makes life very enjoyable,’ he said. “It can express a lot of things that can’t be expressed with words. I tell my kids that as far as performing is concerned, the real income is the connection with the audience.’
Ronstadt is proud of daughter Linda, his `star’
DANIEL BUCKLEY
Citizen Music Critic
“I’m a star,’ an excited Linda Ronstadt told her parents over the phone after “Different Drum’ pierced the charts in 1967.
“We’ve been listening to it and we’re very happy, but you’ll be a star when you can sing standards and people will buy your records,’ Gilbert Ronstadt recalls responding.
Linda remembered years later when she and Nelson Riddle collaborated on “What’s New.’ She dedicated the album of standards to her dad.
Still later, Linda produced two albums inspired by her dad. They were “Canciones de mi Padre’ and “Mas Canciones,’ recordings of Mexican mariachi favorites.
Gilbert contributed watercolor paintings to the latter release, and he translated her hit “Blue Bayou’ into the Spanish “Lago Azul.’
But like most parents, Gilbert was apprehensive as Linda and fellow-Tucsonan Bob Kimmel headed to California to seek their musical fortunes.
“I wanted her to stay in school and learn more,’ he said. “I felt that she was too young and innocent to go out into the big world.’
Linda and Kimmel landed in Venice where, with Ken Edwards, they founded the Stone Poneys. “They were lucky to make $5 a week sometimes,’ Gilbert recalled.
Even after things started rolling, dad worried.
As “Different Drum’ climbed the charts, Linda stopped in Tucson for a few days, then headed for New York for a winter-time “Tonight Show’ appearance wearing sandals, jeans and a coat more cosmetic than functional. Bad weather caused the group to land in Rochester and bus to the city. But as her proud parents watched, Linda sang “Different Drum’ on the “Tonight Show’ – in bare feet.
As her fame grew, so did the number of nut cases that wrote or tried to otherwise contact her. Gilbert became the screen for such things, opening her mail – some sent to the house, some to the Ronstadt Hardware store – to see if it was something he should forward or trash. “I got so I could tell from looking at the envelope whether it was apt to be from a crazy,’ he said.
But there have been plenty of rewards, too, such as the attention he got in in a Tokyo record store when he produced his credit card, pointed to a poster and said “That’s my daughter.’ “Oh, you father Rinda Ronstadt?’ the clerk asked, bowing profusely.
And, of course, getting to meet heroes such as Nelson Riddle, Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlan and Lola Beltran. “She’s (Linda’s) playing with a band that knows how to accompany her singing,’ Gilbert told Nelson Riddle after a show. “That’s always the way I thought it should be,’ the band leader replied.
“I’ve had a chance to cash in on all of my interests and rub shoulders with a lot of the good ones that I would have missed otherwise,’ Gilbert said smiling.
There were musical rewards as well, like when Linda returned from Nashville one time with a copy of “Long Long Time.’ “That made the hair on the back of my neck stand up,’ he said. “I said, `It’s going to be a hit!’ and it was – a big one.’
Probably the biggest thrill came from the effect “Canciones de mi Padre’ had on the mariachi world.
“I’ve heard from a number of people in Mexico that her two albums have had a good influence on the younger Mexican public,’ he said proudly. “Up and coming Mexican artists are reviving the traditional songs that had been put on the back burner. Mariachis make good music.’
As she prepared material for that album, Linda and her father kept the phone lines tied up with him translating and explaining the motivation behind the lyrics, helping her make those songs come to life.
Linda is living out her father’s dream – proving that timeless music, no matter what its origin, is just that.
Gilbert couldn’t be prouder.
PHOTOS
RICK WILEY/Tucson Citizen/Gilbert Ronstadt, above, takes time to reflect on the past at his Tucson home, which he built in 1938.
SHARA WELLS/For the Tucson Citizen/At left, members of the Ronstadt family, from left, Suzy Jacome, Mindy Ronstadt, Peter Ronstadt, Ed Ronstadt, John Ronstadt and Michael Ronstadt, perform at the 1994 Tucson Meet Yourself.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 26th, 1994 at 8:16 am and is filed under Living. Tags for this post: Citizen Music Critic, Daniel Buckley, page-1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Ronstadt patriarch helped shape city
by Daniel Buckley on Jun. 19, 1995, under News
NOTE: OBITUARY; PHOTO
Retired Tucson businessman Gilbert Ronstadt, father of singer Linda and ex-Tucson police chief Peter, dies at home of heart failure while surrounded by family and friends.
Tucson native Gilbert Ronstadt, patriarch of the well-known family that includes singer Linda and former Tucson police chief Peter, died Saturday, just three days after celebrating his 84th birthday.
For his birthday celebration, a large group gathered around him and sang his favorite songs.
He died surrounded by family and friends in his room, which looks out over his pond, plants, birds and other animals in the backyard of his longtime home off Prince Road.
Mr. Ronstadt died of heart failure, said his son, Peter.
Besides running the family hardware store, now the site of the Ronstadt Transit Center, Mr. Ronstadt helped shaped modern Tucson and was the catalyst for the rebirth of mariachi music.
Mr. Ronstadt is well-known as the inspiration behind daughter Linda’s highly successful “Canciones de mi Padre’ recordings – two collections of the favorite mariachi classics she grew up hearing her father sing and play.
Peter Ronstadt, Tucson’s former police chief, recalled last week’s birthday party: “We ended up with “Volver, Volver.’
“With Daddy’s voice still coming through, as clear as it always was,’ added daughter Gretchen “Suzy’ Ronstadt Jacome. “Linda said he always did have the best voice in the family.’
But he left it up to his children to finish the song.
“I could see him gathering strength from that music,’ said Linda. “He’d always carry the big chorus at the end (of `Volver’), and really sing out. This time he left it for us to sing the big finish.
“It occurred to me that we were the big voices now, that we had received the information and were ready to carry on that tradition.’
Mr. Ronstadt had joined his daughter Linda in duets at several of the Tucson International Mariachi conferences.
And in 1994, the great Mexican singer Lola Beltrán coaxed Mr. Ronstadt to the edge of the stage to give him the serape she had worn.
“He could have been a professional entertainer,’ said longtime friend Lalo Guerrero, speaking by phone from his home in Palm Springs, Calif. “He had a big, beautiful voice, though he was always very shy about himself. But music was his life, really.’
He was born into it. The son of Federico Ronstadt, the founder of Tucson’s first municipal orchestra (the Club Filarmonico), Mr. Ronstadt grew up in a home filled with song.
His older sister, Luisa Espinel, was a renowned singer and collector of folk songs. She bound her field collections in a volume titled, “Canciones de mi Padre’ – a title borrowed by Linda for her album.
In his college days at the University of Arizona, Ronstadt sang with a megaphone at the Rialto Theater, and had a half-hour show on a local radio station singing sentimental songs of the day.
He performed in clubs, too, and was offered a spot singing professionally in San Francisco. But he turned that down to stay and help with the family’s business, Ronstadt Hardware, located where Ronstadt Transit Center now is.
He ran the business until his retirement in 1983. His wife, Ruthmary Ronstadt, had died the year before.
But while he was in business, “You couldn’t think of buying from anyone else,’ said longtime Tucsonan Henriqueta DeMeester. “You always got personalized attention.’
After serving several years in the army during World War II, Mr. Ronstadt focused on Tucson’s growing needs.
He chaired the Post War Planning Committee, charting Tucson’s early expansion in the late 1940s and early ’50s.
During that period, he also headed the Sanitary District general committee, helping establish Tucson’s first sewage and waste treatment facilities at a critical time.
Mr. Ronstadt took the helm of the Neighborhood Associations Council, and pioneered efforts to expand Tucson’s trading ties with its Mexican neighbors as far south as Hermosillo, Son.
In the ’60s and ’70s, Mr. Ronstadt chaired the Chamber of Commerce’s Caballeros Del Sol and served on the boards of the Chamber of Commerce, the Tucson-Mexico International Exchange Commission, the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Tucson Festival Society, Arizona Historical Society, and the Tucson Trade Bureau.
He also spearheaded early efforts to restore and revitalize downtown, to preserve the Spanish missions of Sonora on both sides of the border and to keep Tucson’s cultural heritage alive.
In 1991, he was awarded the Chamber of Commerce’s Founder’s Award for his long-term service in shaping the community.
“He was a leader in almost every movement,’ said Mr. Ronstadt’s longtime friend and business associate, Cele Peterson. “He was so quiet, but he was sort of a peacemaker when troubles came up.
“He had a love of the old – Mexican and American. He was such a great person and had such a sense of humor.’
Gilbert Ronstadt was a visual artist as well as a musical artist. Several of his watercolors were used in the booklet accompanying Linda Ronstadt’s “ Mas Canciones’ album. He worked in silver and copper as well, and had a fondness for building incredibly detailed miniatures.
In addition to children Gretchen Ronstadt Jàcome, Peter, Michael and Linda Ronstadt, Mr. Ronstadt is survived by his brother, Edward; beloved companion Jeanne Ure; and grandchildren Erin Gilmore, Federico Jàcome, and Philip, Melinda, Michael, Peter, Mary and Carlos Ronstadt.
Visitation will be tomorrow from 6 to 9 p.m. at Tucson Mortuary’s South Chapel, 240 S. Stone Ave., with a rosary recited at 7. A memorial Mass will be offered Wednesday at 9:30 a.m. at Ss. Peter & Paul Church, 1946 E. Lee St.
This entry was posted on Monday, June 19th, 1995 at 8:19 am and is filed under News. Tags for this post: Citizen Staff Writer, Daniel Buckley, page-1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Gilbert Ronstadt’s family, friends gather to say goodbye
by Daniel Buckley on Jun. 22, 1995, under Local
NOTE:
The joyous sound of mariachis filled the air as mourners left the funeral of Gilbert Ronstadt.
It was music he loved – music of passion and life, like the man himself, played by Tucson’s Mariachi America.
Roughly 400 family members and friends turned out yesterday at Ss. Peter & Paul Catholic Church to say goodbye to a man who was an integral part of Tucson’s modern history. Ronstadt died Saturday of heart failure at the age of 84.
Among those present were his children, singer Linda Ronstadt and former chief of police Peter Ronstadt, son Michael Ronstadt and daughter Gretchen Ronstadt-Jàcome.
All of the grandchildren, as well as Ronstadt’s brother, Edward, nieces and nephews and his beloved companion, Jeanne Ure, attended the 45-minute service.
Friends included entertainer Lalo Guerrero, historian James Officer, James Griffith of the University of Arizona’s Southwest Folklore Center, musician Travis Edmonson, businesswoman Cele Peterson and retired Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum’s “Desert Trails’ TV host Hal Gras.
There could have been numerous stories of Ronstadt’s years at Ronstadt Hardware, his steadfast support of the preservation of Tucson and Sonora’s natural and historic riches, his artistry, his pioneering efforts to develop trade with Mexico, and his deep ties to his Mexican-American heritage.
His service to the community alone could have filled hours. The eulogies might have focused on his love of music – particularly that of the mariachi – and his passing of that love to his family.
But at the request of family members, Rev. Kieran McCarty, who delivered the homily, avoided anecdotes, asking those attending to silently recall for themselves their favorite memory of Gilbert Ronstadt and reflect upon it.
Tucson Bishop Manuel D. Moreno presided over the services with assistance from McCarty, Rev. Charles Polzer, and Rev. Van Wagner of Ss. Peter & Paul.
This entry was posted on Thursday, June 22nd, 1995 at 8:19 am and is filed under Local. Tags for this post: Citizen Staff Writer, Daniel Buckley, page-1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Bits & pieces
by Daniel Buckley on Dec. 14, 2000, under Living
Gilbert Ronstadt, a longtime Tucson hardware store owner and father of singer Linda Ronstadt, painted the world around him on scraps of paper and the backs of empty envelopes.
By DANIEL BUCKLEY
Citizen Music Writer
Michael Ronstadt keeps a tiny, stone frog his dad carved for him. He carries it in his pocket everywhere he goes.
His sister, singer Linda Ronstadt, keeps hers on the bed stand. And siblings Peter and Suzy Ronstadt have theirs as well.
“He’d go out and pick up rocks out of the driveway and the next thing you’d know you’d have a little frog or a little bird,” Tucson’s former Police Chief Peter Ronstadt recalls of his father – Gilbert Ronstadt’s – fondness for sculpting miniatures. “After he died and we were trying to divide up all those things, we wound up basically holding little lotteries – all four of us. So all of us have some of those now. They’re cool. I know they’re one of the reasons I’ll never forget my dad.”
Most people never knew the artistic side of the man whose Ronstadt Hardware store on Congress catered not only to folks needing hammers and nails but the irrigation rigs of the big farms and the heavy equipment of the mines as well. Quiet and soft spoken, Gilbert Ronstadt, who died in 1995 two days after his 84th birthday, was a community leader who helped found the Arizona Historical Society, restore the San Xavier Mission and foster trade with our neighbors to the south.
But over the years, on the backs of envelopes and scrap paper, restaurant place mats and hunks of cardboard, Gilbert Ronstadt painted the world around him. He never took it seriously. To him it was “doodling.” But there is an unmistakable quality in the images, a personality and whimsy that draws one in.
When Linda Ronstadt did her “Canciones de mi Padre” and “Mas Canciones” mariachi collections, she turned to her dad’s paintings for cover art, much to the horror of her art director. But when he saw the work for the first time, he was floored, declaring that he could never match her father’s flair for watercolors.
Son Michael and his wife, Deborah, have recently taken it upon themselves to share some of Gilbert’s drawing and paintings with the world through a series of cards (see related story in Calendar).
Though he had no formal training, Gilbert Ronstadt was a natural artist.
“He could see the desert perfectly well,” Linda recalls. “He really understood the colors and the shapes, and he could memorize landscapes and keep them in his head for years and still paint them.”
Sometimes when Peter and Gilbert would go out hunting, Gilbert would just stop.
“He’d just be standing there sketching something on the back of a check stub,” Peter recalls. “Sometimes on a matchbook cover. And then he’d take it home and out of that would come a little watercolor painting.”
“When Peter and Linda and Michael and I took Daddy’s ashes out by the old ranch to scatter out by Sasabe, we looked around and in every direction there was one of Daddy’s paintings looking at us,” eldest daughter, Suzy, says. “Out there you could see no sign of progress. No sign of technology. No phone poles or airplanes. You couldn’t hear any generators or air conditioners. It was just the mountains and the sky and the things that grow in the desert. It was just beautiful. And you had exactly the same feeling as you had when you looked at one of those pictures of Daddy’s.”
Art was a family thing with Gilbert Ronstadt. During WW II, Gilbert would draw stylized ducks where the “air mail” stamp went to amuse his kids. Bedtime stories were illustrated with impromptu cartoons. And as the kids grew older, birthdays and Christmas were special occasions because one could always count on a hand-painted card. The Ronstadt kids kept a sharp eye out for their favorite artwork.
“Once in a while we’d be over there and see one of the paintings that he had done when he was fooling around or maybe you’d watched him work on a painting,” Peter recalls. “We’d whine until he gave it to us. He was funny about that. He didn’t necessarily want to give the good ones away. But all of us have a few here and there.”
He didn’t have much time to paint and sculpt when the kids were little. But upon his retirement, it became a way for him to relax and enjoy life.
Linda’s daughter’s school had suggested always giving children good art supplies so they get into the sensuality of the materials. Following that logic, the singer tried to give her dad the best paper made.
“He wouldn’t use them,” she laughs. “I’d find them all still wrapped up in a corner of his dresser. He was stingy. We’d give him a hard time for that. So we’ve got all these piles of scraps now that we won’t ever throw away.
“Lots of times his drawings of people had our faces in them or his own face as a child. One of the ones that Mike’s just redone has a little boy running through it in the background. A little Indian boy in Mexico with a group of Indians. But it’s my dad. It’s his face. And there are a couple of them that are me. One is my sister. And I don’t even know if he even did it consciously, although when I pointed it out to them he said, ‘Yeah, you’re right. That’s you.’ ”
It’s something Michael Ronstadt sees in his dad’s work too.
“We traveled in Mexico a lot,” he recalls. “In Oaxaca, the Zapotec Indians have a certain feature with their eyes and cheeks. He liked those people a lot. He also liked the Seri Indians a lot and in Sinaloa, the Mayo Indians. He used to spend a lot of time in the Mayo Indian villages, trading. He’d always come wandering home with a bunch of artifacts. He understood those people a lot, and he was able to capture them.”
Along with the paintings, Gilbert Ronstadt’s artistic instincts pulled him into the world of miniatures as well. He made a tiny serving set with an oval platter roughly the diameter of a quarter and itty-bitty knives and forks. But what to serve on Tom Thumb’s dinnerware? The universe steps in every now and then.
“One day . . . I was working in that area and I stopped off there for coffee,” Peter recalls. “As we were sitting in the porch area, there where that plate glass was, a humming bird flew into the window and broke its neck. My dad went out there, picked the thing up, took it into the kitchen, plucked it, cleaned it, roasted it and served it on these little tiny plates like a little tiny turkey. We all had a little tiny bite.”
Little boxes became another Gilbert Ronstadt specialty. When Peter joined the police force, his dad made him a tiny box with a miniature pistol salvaged from a Western tie bar and a small badge soldered to the top.
Seeing the artwork afresh has been a joy for all the family, though tempered by the loss of his physical being.
“I wish Daddy were here right now because I have a red geranium sitting by the fountain here,” Suzy says. “I know exactly what the picture would look like if he could draw it.”
Dozens of Gilbert Ronstadt’s watercolors have now been reproduced on cards and prints. Learn more about the artist’s love of painting and his family’s decision to share the images with the public. See Calendar.
PHOTOS: XAVIER GALLEGOS/Tucson Citizen
Michael Ronstadt (above) holds the frog his father, Gilbert Ronstadt (left, now deceased), carved for him many years ago.
Michael Ronstadt and wife Deborah (above) with framed examples of Gilbert Ronstadt paintings. Michael (left) holds one of his father’s miniatures.
This entry was posted on Thursday, December 14th, 2000 at 8:58 am and is filed under Living. Tags for this post: Arizona, Art, Daniel Buckley, Family, page-1B, Painting, Sculpture, Tucson. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
companion thread ronstadt.proboards.com/thread/4570/cultural-influence-linda-ronstadt
Businessman, Community Service
“Canciones de mi Padre” a June 21, 1995 editorial in the Arizona Daily Star, pays tribute to Gilbert Ronstadt and his underlying influence on the Tucson community. The editorial is “soft-spoken”, as was the man whom it praises.
“Gilbert Ronstadt, who died in Tucson this weekend (June 17, 1995), was known to most people as the father of singer Linda Ronstadt. Some may also have known him as the inspiration of her highly acclaimed Spanish-language album, Canciones de mi Padre. “They knew only a fraction of the story. “To Tucsonans, Gilbert Ronstadt was more than a father to superstar Linda and former police chief Peter; he was, in many ways, a father to Tucson itself.
“Gilbert Ronstadt was born a decade into the 20th century, on June 1, 1911. Arizona had yet to become a state; Congress Street was a dusty road through the middle of tiny downtown. When he died, some 84 years later, Tucson would be a vibrant, growing and eminently livable city – due in no small part to him.
“As a young man, Ronstadt entertained Tucsonans with his beautiful voice, singing on both the radio and on nightclub and theater stages around town. Friends said he could have been a professional, but family responsibilities – including carrying on the family hardware business – came first.
“Ronstadt could not abandon his love of things musical, however, and when he started his own family, he made sure to pass on that love of music to his children. He filled their home with mariachi music, and encouraged the family to sing together. (Gilbert’s two other children—Gretchen (Suzy) Jacome and Michael, are equally musical!)
“Fortunately, Ronstadt could not abandon his love for his hometown, either. After serving in World War II, he returned to focus on the needs of this rapidly growing city. He founded one of its first neighborhood associations, and stressed the need to preserve Tucson’s rich cultural heritage.
“He helped improve city services, getting dirt roads paved, and chairing the group that established Tucson’s first sewage system. “He led efforts to restore and revitalize downtown, and served on numerous civic boards, including those of the Chamber of Commerce, the Tucson Trade Bureau and the Arizona Historical Society. He worked to preserve Spanish missions on both sides of the US-Mexican border, and decades before NAFTA, he helped establish trade ties between Tucson and Mexico.
“Always described as a quiet, unassuming man, Gilbert Ronstadt was content to stand outside the spotlight that shone on other members of his family. But in Tucson, his good works and love of community—like the mariachi classics he helped reintroduce to the world through his famous daughter—live on.”
In 1990 the Tucson Chamber of Commerce added a new award to its annual Man and Woman of the Year awards ceremony. That award, the Founders’ Award—for his long-term community service—went to Gilbert Ronstadt.
GILBERT RONSTADT 1911-1995
My only contact with Gilbert was when I hired some fellow resident assistants at ASU to serenade Ruthmary on Valentine's Day in 1977. They were trying to raise money for a charity here in Tempe and advertised singing telegrams. (Ruthmary and I had a mutual friend and I had lent her some of my Linda Ronstadt scrapbooks which she enjoyed immensely. Soon afterward I received a package from Ronstadt Hardware which contained a rare Stone Poney poster for a concert at Palo Verde High School. I am sure she said "Now Gib make sure you send this poster to that nice young man in Tempe" haha she was so sweet.) Anyway, I digress. So I gave the ra chicks my choice of songs for Ruthmary which was the longggg version of Long Long Time. I gave them the phone number and after much practice and some trepidation they made the call and who should answer but Gilbert! Where's your wife? She was off to some god-forsaken state like Michigan or Wisconsin visiting relatives so Gilbert ended up getting serenaded by my friends that day. He was very gracious and thanked them for the beautiful gift to his wife. What more could I ask? (two more down to Earth parents you couldn't ask for)
I wish I had photos for the below articles but I guess when they hit the online version they are deleted or just not added, unfortunately.
Anyway, this is my tribute to Gilbert Ronstadt, one of the good guys and unsung heroes of the world. Sometimes being a bright light is more important than having one shine on you. If anyone has any rememberances to add then have at it.
I wish I had photos for the below articles but I guess when they hit the online version they are deleted or just not added, unfortunately.
Anyway, this is my tribute to Gilbert Ronstadt, one of the good guys and unsung heroes of the world. Sometimes being a bright light is more important than having one shine on you. If anyone has any rememberances to add then have at it.
"I contacted Gilbert Ronstadt because I wanted to meet Linda’s father, but what I discovered was a rare intellect who had led one of the most fascinating lives of anyone I wrote about in these pages. He spent every Wednesday with me one summer sharing his stories. They were the best days of my writing career." Daniel Buckley
MEMORIES…of music and more
by Daniel Buckley on Oct. 26, 1994, under Living
NOTE: TWO PHOTOS/SIDEBAR/PHOTO MUG: Linda Ronstadt
Community leader Gilbert Ronstadt has led a colorful life in his 83 years here.
Memories surround Gilbert Ronstadt.
He still lives in the home he built in 1938, a home with 14-inch thick walls of adobe made with mud from his front yard. The ceiling is fashioned of pine he bought for 10 cents a log from his neighbor, artist Maynard Dixon. Within this home lie the things Ronstadt cherishes most. There are photos of his family – his wife, Ruthmary, who died in 1982, and children: Peter (Tucson’s former police chief), Suzy (Jacome), Michael and singing star Linda Ronstadt.
In the busiest room, the family room, hangs a gold record of Linda’s “Canciones de mi Padre.’ Gilbert, 83, is the proud padre who inspired the collection of mariachi music, which has fueled a resurgence in its popularity.
In another room hangs a poster of the art used on the cover of the album. Also hanging there are several of his watercolors. Many of those were featured in her “Mas Canciones’ album.
Next to the framed record hangs a charro hat given to him by Luis Donaldo Colosio, the Mexican presidential candidate assassinated earlier this year whom Ronstadt had befriended. A serape lies on the couch. It was given to Ronstadt at the 1994 Tucson International Mariachi Conference by the great Mexican songstress Lola Beltran.
“That was a big surprise,’ Ronstadt laughed. “I thought I was going to be very nonchalant and toss it over my shoulder. It landed on my head.’
It’s a warm, comfortable home, where the quiet is broken by the laughter of grandchildren, the crowing of a rooster, the singing of birds.
Memories swim through Ronstadt’s head, as well. He recalls hitching a ride to school on the buckboard of a horse-drawn dump cart. He remembers Civil War veterans marching in parades when he was a child.
He remembers watching the movie serials spilling off the narrow screen and across the stairway to the balcony of a long-gone theater. And he remembers taking the 50 cents his mother gave him and his brother for a haircut, going to a half-price barber shop, and using the rest for movies and ice cream. “We came back looking like peeled radishes’ he laughs.
Ronstadt’s father was Federico Ronstadt, who moved to Tucson from Sonora, Mexico, in 1882. He started Ronstadt Hardware Company, which sold anything that was considered hardware – from cars to tools.
Ronstadt recalls the days when he and his father would take a rifle with them on business trips and shoot their lunch. And he remembers when the six-guns he and his brothers wore on their hips convinced the doorman at the plush Santa Rita Hotel they needn’t wear neckties to enter.
He remembers being caught by his mother at 1:30 a.m. as he and his brother excitedly listened over headphones to a radio set his brother had built.
“She was ready to give us hell for not going to sleep, so we put a pair of earphones on her,’ he said. “There was a guy playing the piano in Chicago and she was entranced. I don’t think we got to sleep until 5 a.m.’
He recalls writing a check for a hotel bill in Mexico on a piece of wrapping paper – and having it cashed. And he remembers the Great Depression when, working as a bill collector for his father, whose company was in receivership, he found that everyone was in the same boat.
There are ugly memories, too, such as the Ku Klux Klan taking the collection at the Baptist church across from the Sixth Avenue house he grew up in, and prejudices against Native Americans.
In one instance, one of his father’s employees reported incredulously that an Indian wanted to buy a Buick. “Sell him anything he wants,’ his father replied to the stunned salesman. He did, and he was paid several thousand dollars in cash, from a small satchel.
Music has had a big part in Ronstadt’s life. His father, who played the flute and a little guitar and piano, formed Tucson’s first civic orchestra, the Club Filarmónico before the turn of the century. The group had disbanded by the time of Gilbert’s birth, but his father was still active musically, playing flute with two violinists and a banjo player.
“Music in those days was mostly something you made up at home or listened to on phonograph records,’ Ronstadt recalled. “Music was in every backyard in the summer time, and in the winter, too, because it provided entertainment for family and friends. Where else did you go?’
His older sister, Luisa Espinel cq, was a renowned singer of operetta and Spanish folk music. Her recitals attracted international audiences.
“She was probably 50 years ahead of her time,’ Ronstadt said. “What she did was the type of intimate expression that could work so well with television.’
Espinel has another family distinction. She put together and published a collection of Spanish folk songs, titled “Canciones de mi Padre,’ a title later borrowed by her niece.
Music became especially important to Ronstadt as he entered the University of Arizona in the late 1920s and started serenading sorority girls.
“My ploy was to sing to the young ladies, and it worked,’ he said. “It was much quicker than dancing. I made much more progress that way, and it was cheaper, too.’
Ronstadt’s voice got him a job singing with a megaphone at the Rialto Theater. Soon after, he had a half-hour show of his own on KGAR radio singing sentimental favorites such as “Among My Souvenirs,’ “I’ll Always Be in Love with You’ and “All Alone.’
He remembers people calling in requests. “I had groupies,’ he said. “Old ladies in their 40s.’
Ronstadt also sang in clubs, and once was offered $125 a week to go to San Francisco with a band. It was great money for those days, but after figuring his expenses, Ronstadt decided to stay in Tucson.
Years later, Ronstadt passed the musical torch to his children. Peter excelled, singing in the Tucson Boys Choir and in high school with a group called the Night Beats. They put out a Billboard-charting song called “Lonesome Road Rock.’ Peter, Suzy and later Linda teamed up to form a folk group called The New Union Ramblers.
Linda, of course, went on to great fame, but the rest of the family still sings together informally. At this year’s Tucson Meet Yourself, Ronstadt proudly watched as daughter Suzy, sons Michael and Peter, nephew John, brother Ed and granddaughter Mindy shared their rich family harmonies with a crowd of several hundred, singing songs of their generation as well as Ronstadt’s and his father’s.
Not all of Ronstadt’s accomplishments came from music. After serving several years in the Army during World War II, he began organizing at home, founding one of Tucson’s first neighborhood associations and getting dusty Prince Road paved.
His community organizing experiences and familiarity with water issues through work for his father’s machinery and hardware business got him appointed head of the group creating Tucson’s first sewer system.
“My kids used to call me `Mon Sewer,’ ‘ he laughs.
Prior to that, the city dumped sewage in settling ponds along Silverbell Road, where the untreated excess would run into the Santa Cruz.
Disaster was diverted by that early action, he noted.
Ronstadt served on the board of the Desert Museum and the Tucson Festival Society. He chaired the Post-war Planning Committee, helping shape Tucson’s growth in the early 1950s. And he was active in international matters as well, spearheading an effort to turn Spanish missions north and south of the border into tourist attractions, and generally improving the climate of economic and cultural exchange along the border.
He remained active in the Ronstadt Hardware Company, even after his retirement, until its demise. Competition from chain stores, the decline of the cotton industry and the closure of the mines made it impossible for the downtown landmark to compete. “I couldn’t bring myself to go down when they auctioned the merchandise,’ he said.
For all his community influence, Ronstadt is happiest with those that are musical.
“Music to me is one of the things that makes life very enjoyable,’ he said. “It can express a lot of things that can’t be expressed with words. I tell my kids that as far as performing is concerned, the real income is the connection with the audience.’
Ronstadt is proud of daughter Linda, his `star’
DANIEL BUCKLEY
Citizen Music Critic
“I’m a star,’ an excited Linda Ronstadt told her parents over the phone after “Different Drum’ pierced the charts in 1967.
“We’ve been listening to it and we’re very happy, but you’ll be a star when you can sing standards and people will buy your records,’ Gilbert Ronstadt recalls responding.
Linda remembered years later when she and Nelson Riddle collaborated on “What’s New.’ She dedicated the album of standards to her dad.
Still later, Linda produced two albums inspired by her dad. They were “Canciones de mi Padre’ and “Mas Canciones,’ recordings of Mexican mariachi favorites.
Gilbert contributed watercolor paintings to the latter release, and he translated her hit “Blue Bayou’ into the Spanish “Lago Azul.’
But like most parents, Gilbert was apprehensive as Linda and fellow-Tucsonan Bob Kimmel headed to California to seek their musical fortunes.
“I wanted her to stay in school and learn more,’ he said. “I felt that she was too young and innocent to go out into the big world.’
Linda and Kimmel landed in Venice where, with Ken Edwards, they founded the Stone Poneys. “They were lucky to make $5 a week sometimes,’ Gilbert recalled.
Even after things started rolling, dad worried.
As “Different Drum’ climbed the charts, Linda stopped in Tucson for a few days, then headed for New York for a winter-time “Tonight Show’ appearance wearing sandals, jeans and a coat more cosmetic than functional. Bad weather caused the group to land in Rochester and bus to the city. But as her proud parents watched, Linda sang “Different Drum’ on the “Tonight Show’ – in bare feet.
As her fame grew, so did the number of nut cases that wrote or tried to otherwise contact her. Gilbert became the screen for such things, opening her mail – some sent to the house, some to the Ronstadt Hardware store – to see if it was something he should forward or trash. “I got so I could tell from looking at the envelope whether it was apt to be from a crazy,’ he said.
But there have been plenty of rewards, too, such as the attention he got in in a Tokyo record store when he produced his credit card, pointed to a poster and said “That’s my daughter.’ “Oh, you father Rinda Ronstadt?’ the clerk asked, bowing profusely.
And, of course, getting to meet heroes such as Nelson Riddle, Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlan and Lola Beltran. “She’s (Linda’s) playing with a band that knows how to accompany her singing,’ Gilbert told Nelson Riddle after a show. “That’s always the way I thought it should be,’ the band leader replied.
“I’ve had a chance to cash in on all of my interests and rub shoulders with a lot of the good ones that I would have missed otherwise,’ Gilbert said smiling.
There were musical rewards as well, like when Linda returned from Nashville one time with a copy of “Long Long Time.’ “That made the hair on the back of my neck stand up,’ he said. “I said, `It’s going to be a hit!’ and it was – a big one.’
Probably the biggest thrill came from the effect “Canciones de mi Padre’ had on the mariachi world.
“I’ve heard from a number of people in Mexico that her two albums have had a good influence on the younger Mexican public,’ he said proudly. “Up and coming Mexican artists are reviving the traditional songs that had been put on the back burner. Mariachis make good music.’
As she prepared material for that album, Linda and her father kept the phone lines tied up with him translating and explaining the motivation behind the lyrics, helping her make those songs come to life.
Linda is living out her father’s dream – proving that timeless music, no matter what its origin, is just that.
Gilbert couldn’t be prouder.
PHOTOS
RICK WILEY/Tucson Citizen/Gilbert Ronstadt, above, takes time to reflect on the past at his Tucson home, which he built in 1938.
SHARA WELLS/For the Tucson Citizen/At left, members of the Ronstadt family, from left, Suzy Jacome, Mindy Ronstadt, Peter Ronstadt, Ed Ronstadt, John Ronstadt and Michael Ronstadt, perform at the 1994 Tucson Meet Yourself.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 26th, 1994 at 8:16 am and is filed under Living. Tags for this post: Citizen Music Critic, Daniel Buckley, page-1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Ronstadt patriarch helped shape city
by Daniel Buckley on Jun. 19, 1995, under News
NOTE: OBITUARY; PHOTO
Retired Tucson businessman Gilbert Ronstadt, father of singer Linda and ex-Tucson police chief Peter, dies at home of heart failure while surrounded by family and friends.
Tucson native Gilbert Ronstadt, patriarch of the well-known family that includes singer Linda and former Tucson police chief Peter, died Saturday, just three days after celebrating his 84th birthday.
For his birthday celebration, a large group gathered around him and sang his favorite songs.
He died surrounded by family and friends in his room, which looks out over his pond, plants, birds and other animals in the backyard of his longtime home off Prince Road.
Mr. Ronstadt died of heart failure, said his son, Peter.
Besides running the family hardware store, now the site of the Ronstadt Transit Center, Mr. Ronstadt helped shaped modern Tucson and was the catalyst for the rebirth of mariachi music.
Mr. Ronstadt is well-known as the inspiration behind daughter Linda’s highly successful “Canciones de mi Padre’ recordings – two collections of the favorite mariachi classics she grew up hearing her father sing and play.
Peter Ronstadt, Tucson’s former police chief, recalled last week’s birthday party: “We ended up with “Volver, Volver.’
“With Daddy’s voice still coming through, as clear as it always was,’ added daughter Gretchen “Suzy’ Ronstadt Jacome. “Linda said he always did have the best voice in the family.’
But he left it up to his children to finish the song.
“I could see him gathering strength from that music,’ said Linda. “He’d always carry the big chorus at the end (of `Volver’), and really sing out. This time he left it for us to sing the big finish.
“It occurred to me that we were the big voices now, that we had received the information and were ready to carry on that tradition.’
Mr. Ronstadt had joined his daughter Linda in duets at several of the Tucson International Mariachi conferences.
And in 1994, the great Mexican singer Lola Beltrán coaxed Mr. Ronstadt to the edge of the stage to give him the serape she had worn.
“He could have been a professional entertainer,’ said longtime friend Lalo Guerrero, speaking by phone from his home in Palm Springs, Calif. “He had a big, beautiful voice, though he was always very shy about himself. But music was his life, really.’
He was born into it. The son of Federico Ronstadt, the founder of Tucson’s first municipal orchestra (the Club Filarmonico), Mr. Ronstadt grew up in a home filled with song.
His older sister, Luisa Espinel, was a renowned singer and collector of folk songs. She bound her field collections in a volume titled, “Canciones de mi Padre’ – a title borrowed by Linda for her album.
In his college days at the University of Arizona, Ronstadt sang with a megaphone at the Rialto Theater, and had a half-hour show on a local radio station singing sentimental songs of the day.
He performed in clubs, too, and was offered a spot singing professionally in San Francisco. But he turned that down to stay and help with the family’s business, Ronstadt Hardware, located where Ronstadt Transit Center now is.
He ran the business until his retirement in 1983. His wife, Ruthmary Ronstadt, had died the year before.
But while he was in business, “You couldn’t think of buying from anyone else,’ said longtime Tucsonan Henriqueta DeMeester. “You always got personalized attention.’
After serving several years in the army during World War II, Mr. Ronstadt focused on Tucson’s growing needs.
He chaired the Post War Planning Committee, charting Tucson’s early expansion in the late 1940s and early ’50s.
During that period, he also headed the Sanitary District general committee, helping establish Tucson’s first sewage and waste treatment facilities at a critical time.
Mr. Ronstadt took the helm of the Neighborhood Associations Council, and pioneered efforts to expand Tucson’s trading ties with its Mexican neighbors as far south as Hermosillo, Son.
In the ’60s and ’70s, Mr. Ronstadt chaired the Chamber of Commerce’s Caballeros Del Sol and served on the boards of the Chamber of Commerce, the Tucson-Mexico International Exchange Commission, the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Tucson Festival Society, Arizona Historical Society, and the Tucson Trade Bureau.
He also spearheaded early efforts to restore and revitalize downtown, to preserve the Spanish missions of Sonora on both sides of the border and to keep Tucson’s cultural heritage alive.
In 1991, he was awarded the Chamber of Commerce’s Founder’s Award for his long-term service in shaping the community.
“He was a leader in almost every movement,’ said Mr. Ronstadt’s longtime friend and business associate, Cele Peterson. “He was so quiet, but he was sort of a peacemaker when troubles came up.
“He had a love of the old – Mexican and American. He was such a great person and had such a sense of humor.’
Gilbert Ronstadt was a visual artist as well as a musical artist. Several of his watercolors were used in the booklet accompanying Linda Ronstadt’s “ Mas Canciones’ album. He worked in silver and copper as well, and had a fondness for building incredibly detailed miniatures.
In addition to children Gretchen Ronstadt Jàcome, Peter, Michael and Linda Ronstadt, Mr. Ronstadt is survived by his brother, Edward; beloved companion Jeanne Ure; and grandchildren Erin Gilmore, Federico Jàcome, and Philip, Melinda, Michael, Peter, Mary and Carlos Ronstadt.
Visitation will be tomorrow from 6 to 9 p.m. at Tucson Mortuary’s South Chapel, 240 S. Stone Ave., with a rosary recited at 7. A memorial Mass will be offered Wednesday at 9:30 a.m. at Ss. Peter & Paul Church, 1946 E. Lee St.
This entry was posted on Monday, June 19th, 1995 at 8:19 am and is filed under News. Tags for this post: Citizen Staff Writer, Daniel Buckley, page-1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Gilbert Ronstadt’s family, friends gather to say goodbye
by Daniel Buckley on Jun. 22, 1995, under Local
NOTE:
The joyous sound of mariachis filled the air as mourners left the funeral of Gilbert Ronstadt.
It was music he loved – music of passion and life, like the man himself, played by Tucson’s Mariachi America.
Roughly 400 family members and friends turned out yesterday at Ss. Peter & Paul Catholic Church to say goodbye to a man who was an integral part of Tucson’s modern history. Ronstadt died Saturday of heart failure at the age of 84.
Among those present were his children, singer Linda Ronstadt and former chief of police Peter Ronstadt, son Michael Ronstadt and daughter Gretchen Ronstadt-Jàcome.
All of the grandchildren, as well as Ronstadt’s brother, Edward, nieces and nephews and his beloved companion, Jeanne Ure, attended the 45-minute service.
Friends included entertainer Lalo Guerrero, historian James Officer, James Griffith of the University of Arizona’s Southwest Folklore Center, musician Travis Edmonson, businesswoman Cele Peterson and retired Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum’s “Desert Trails’ TV host Hal Gras.
There could have been numerous stories of Ronstadt’s years at Ronstadt Hardware, his steadfast support of the preservation of Tucson and Sonora’s natural and historic riches, his artistry, his pioneering efforts to develop trade with Mexico, and his deep ties to his Mexican-American heritage.
His service to the community alone could have filled hours. The eulogies might have focused on his love of music – particularly that of the mariachi – and his passing of that love to his family.
But at the request of family members, Rev. Kieran McCarty, who delivered the homily, avoided anecdotes, asking those attending to silently recall for themselves their favorite memory of Gilbert Ronstadt and reflect upon it.
Tucson Bishop Manuel D. Moreno presided over the services with assistance from McCarty, Rev. Charles Polzer, and Rev. Van Wagner of Ss. Peter & Paul.
This entry was posted on Thursday, June 22nd, 1995 at 8:19 am and is filed under Local. Tags for this post: Citizen Staff Writer, Daniel Buckley, page-1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Bits & pieces
by Daniel Buckley on Dec. 14, 2000, under Living
Gilbert Ronstadt, a longtime Tucson hardware store owner and father of singer Linda Ronstadt, painted the world around him on scraps of paper and the backs of empty envelopes.
By DANIEL BUCKLEY
Citizen Music Writer
Michael Ronstadt keeps a tiny, stone frog his dad carved for him. He carries it in his pocket everywhere he goes.
His sister, singer Linda Ronstadt, keeps hers on the bed stand. And siblings Peter and Suzy Ronstadt have theirs as well.
“He’d go out and pick up rocks out of the driveway and the next thing you’d know you’d have a little frog or a little bird,” Tucson’s former Police Chief Peter Ronstadt recalls of his father – Gilbert Ronstadt’s – fondness for sculpting miniatures. “After he died and we were trying to divide up all those things, we wound up basically holding little lotteries – all four of us. So all of us have some of those now. They’re cool. I know they’re one of the reasons I’ll never forget my dad.”
Most people never knew the artistic side of the man whose Ronstadt Hardware store on Congress catered not only to folks needing hammers and nails but the irrigation rigs of the big farms and the heavy equipment of the mines as well. Quiet and soft spoken, Gilbert Ronstadt, who died in 1995 two days after his 84th birthday, was a community leader who helped found the Arizona Historical Society, restore the San Xavier Mission and foster trade with our neighbors to the south.
But over the years, on the backs of envelopes and scrap paper, restaurant place mats and hunks of cardboard, Gilbert Ronstadt painted the world around him. He never took it seriously. To him it was “doodling.” But there is an unmistakable quality in the images, a personality and whimsy that draws one in.
When Linda Ronstadt did her “Canciones de mi Padre” and “Mas Canciones” mariachi collections, she turned to her dad’s paintings for cover art, much to the horror of her art director. But when he saw the work for the first time, he was floored, declaring that he could never match her father’s flair for watercolors.
Son Michael and his wife, Deborah, have recently taken it upon themselves to share some of Gilbert’s drawing and paintings with the world through a series of cards (see related story in Calendar).
Though he had no formal training, Gilbert Ronstadt was a natural artist.
“He could see the desert perfectly well,” Linda recalls. “He really understood the colors and the shapes, and he could memorize landscapes and keep them in his head for years and still paint them.”
Sometimes when Peter and Gilbert would go out hunting, Gilbert would just stop.
“He’d just be standing there sketching something on the back of a check stub,” Peter recalls. “Sometimes on a matchbook cover. And then he’d take it home and out of that would come a little watercolor painting.”
“When Peter and Linda and Michael and I took Daddy’s ashes out by the old ranch to scatter out by Sasabe, we looked around and in every direction there was one of Daddy’s paintings looking at us,” eldest daughter, Suzy, says. “Out there you could see no sign of progress. No sign of technology. No phone poles or airplanes. You couldn’t hear any generators or air conditioners. It was just the mountains and the sky and the things that grow in the desert. It was just beautiful. And you had exactly the same feeling as you had when you looked at one of those pictures of Daddy’s.”
Art was a family thing with Gilbert Ronstadt. During WW II, Gilbert would draw stylized ducks where the “air mail” stamp went to amuse his kids. Bedtime stories were illustrated with impromptu cartoons. And as the kids grew older, birthdays and Christmas were special occasions because one could always count on a hand-painted card. The Ronstadt kids kept a sharp eye out for their favorite artwork.
“Once in a while we’d be over there and see one of the paintings that he had done when he was fooling around or maybe you’d watched him work on a painting,” Peter recalls. “We’d whine until he gave it to us. He was funny about that. He didn’t necessarily want to give the good ones away. But all of us have a few here and there.”
He didn’t have much time to paint and sculpt when the kids were little. But upon his retirement, it became a way for him to relax and enjoy life.
Linda’s daughter’s school had suggested always giving children good art supplies so they get into the sensuality of the materials. Following that logic, the singer tried to give her dad the best paper made.
“He wouldn’t use them,” she laughs. “I’d find them all still wrapped up in a corner of his dresser. He was stingy. We’d give him a hard time for that. So we’ve got all these piles of scraps now that we won’t ever throw away.
“Lots of times his drawings of people had our faces in them or his own face as a child. One of the ones that Mike’s just redone has a little boy running through it in the background. A little Indian boy in Mexico with a group of Indians. But it’s my dad. It’s his face. And there are a couple of them that are me. One is my sister. And I don’t even know if he even did it consciously, although when I pointed it out to them he said, ‘Yeah, you’re right. That’s you.’ ”
It’s something Michael Ronstadt sees in his dad’s work too.
“We traveled in Mexico a lot,” he recalls. “In Oaxaca, the Zapotec Indians have a certain feature with their eyes and cheeks. He liked those people a lot. He also liked the Seri Indians a lot and in Sinaloa, the Mayo Indians. He used to spend a lot of time in the Mayo Indian villages, trading. He’d always come wandering home with a bunch of artifacts. He understood those people a lot, and he was able to capture them.”
Along with the paintings, Gilbert Ronstadt’s artistic instincts pulled him into the world of miniatures as well. He made a tiny serving set with an oval platter roughly the diameter of a quarter and itty-bitty knives and forks. But what to serve on Tom Thumb’s dinnerware? The universe steps in every now and then.
“One day . . . I was working in that area and I stopped off there for coffee,” Peter recalls. “As we were sitting in the porch area, there where that plate glass was, a humming bird flew into the window and broke its neck. My dad went out there, picked the thing up, took it into the kitchen, plucked it, cleaned it, roasted it and served it on these little tiny plates like a little tiny turkey. We all had a little tiny bite.”
Little boxes became another Gilbert Ronstadt specialty. When Peter joined the police force, his dad made him a tiny box with a miniature pistol salvaged from a Western tie bar and a small badge soldered to the top.
Seeing the artwork afresh has been a joy for all the family, though tempered by the loss of his physical being.
“I wish Daddy were here right now because I have a red geranium sitting by the fountain here,” Suzy says. “I know exactly what the picture would look like if he could draw it.”
Dozens of Gilbert Ronstadt’s watercolors have now been reproduced on cards and prints. Learn more about the artist’s love of painting and his family’s decision to share the images with the public. See Calendar.
PHOTOS: XAVIER GALLEGOS/Tucson Citizen
Michael Ronstadt (above) holds the frog his father, Gilbert Ronstadt (left, now deceased), carved for him many years ago.
Michael Ronstadt and wife Deborah (above) with framed examples of Gilbert Ronstadt paintings. Michael (left) holds one of his father’s miniatures.
This entry was posted on Thursday, December 14th, 2000 at 8:58 am and is filed under Living. Tags for this post: Arizona, Art, Daniel Buckley, Family, page-1B, Painting, Sculpture, Tucson. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
companion thread ronstadt.proboards.com/thread/4570/cultural-influence-linda-ronstadt
