Dog Patch- Exploring Change in a Colorado Hispanic Community

Family in Dog Patch

Sylvia Fransua’s family in their home in Dog Patch, with many other family photos hung on the wall behind them (2006)

Each of the Dog Patch oral history interviews is filled with examples of families coming together. To Dog Patch residents, family represents a way that traditions can be carried on.

Selina Ozuna-Sanchez, her father Leonard Sanchez, sr., and cousin Felicia Tapia, in front of Connie and Samuel Guerrero’s house while participating in the Dog Patch Memory Walk on March 24, 2018. The Guerrero’s were Leonard’s parents, Felicia and Selina’s grandparents, and valued community members. (2018)

Many of Selina Ozuna-Sanchez’s favorite memories involve her family, especially her grandparents.

Listen to Selina's oral history from 1:09 to 3:02. Her words are typed out below.

I would be able to walk to my grandma and grandpa’s house in a matter of five minutes. And it never occurred to me that it was different for everybody else or that their family was spread apart throughout the country. I was just so used to being able to see my family and extended family on a regular basis. And part of that is this little, close-knit community. Because my grandparents were here on Dean Lane. My parents live here on Tenth St. And so Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving was just three or four blocks away.

Some of my favorite memories would probably be, one of them, when I was about my youngest son’s age, at ten, I got frustrated with my mom, and I told her, “I’m running away.” So I packed up my little purse, and I walked briskly to my Grandma Connie’s house. And I did that a couple times. And my grandma never let me know that my mom had called. But my mom would call and make sure I got there. She’d time me. She’d be like, “Okay, she should be there now.”

So she’d call, and I’d be like, “Who’s that, Grandma?”

And she’d be like, “Ah, nobody.” Because she wanted her house to feel like a haven that I can always run to, and that’s what it was. A lot of my childhood was there. Was making mudpies in the back or playing in the front with my cousins. Or just on a random day, going to say hi and having one of her enchiladas whipped up out of nowhere. Because she would do that. She would always have cheese and onion, and tortillas, and say, “I can make you an enchilada.”