Freddie John Gallegos

Born September 1st, 1943 in LA County General Hospital, Freddie was born into dangerous times. He was the son of Marialuisa and Oscar Lopez. Oscar was off at war with General Patton invading Italy. And Marialuisa was in East LA, working hard for the war effort and making Rosie the Riveter famous. It was the summer of the Zoot Suit riots, and the US Navy had declared war against well-dressed Mexicans. And while his younger brother Oscar, Jr., eventually followed Oscar, Sr’s footsteps and joined the Navy, Freddie remained forever in solidarity with the pachucos of those days. Creased and heavily starched, Freddie wore his clothes as a statement of style and defiance, representing a generation of Angelenos that helped define what it means to be Chicano.

As a boy, Freddie spent his early years in Los Angeles where he attended St. Turibius catholic school, off Central Avenue and 16th Street, where he served as an altar boy. He attended Cantwell high school, where he contemplated entering the seminary. In 1958, the family bought the first of many homes in Santa Fe Springs, where Freddie continued his studies at Pioneer high school. Freddie would never live anywhere else again, proud to consider himself “just a guy from the neighborhood.

Freddie was a true blue Los Angeles original from the old school. Rams, Lakers, Dodgers, Philippe's, In-n-Out, Al & Bea’s; he had his favorites. He loved to drive and considered taking the car out for a cruise “going out.” He listened to oldies on KRLA and Vin Scully on the AM radio and music was always very important to him. He enjoyed musical theatre and was particularly thrilled by the Los Angeles productions of The Jersey Boys (2007) and Zoot Suit (2017), both of which left him reliving his own experiences growing up in Los Angeles.

A fabric cutter by trade, he was responsible for bringing new designs to life as prototypes and then eventually as patterns for mass production on assembly lines for the drapery, bedding and furniture industries. A steady hand with the fabric shears, trusted for his precise cuts and attention to detail, he was considered one of the best in the trade. He needed little direction and naturally seemed to know how to maximize a fabric to realize a design. Esteemed by his employers, Freddie was entrusted with supervising production lines for many decades. And year after year, Freddie’s product lines made their way into the showrooms and home decor magazines where Americans dreamt of furnishing their homes.

Dedicated and hard working, Freddie was committed to providing for his family. Together with Carmen, his wife of 51 years, they fulfilled their shared dream of having a family of their own. They raised two sons, Francisco Javier and Daniel, and two daughters, Irene and Melissa. And together they welcomed many extended family members into their home when they had nowhere else to turn. Freddie was like the family’s patron saint of castaways, reserving his greatest empathy for stray dogs and lost causes.

Freddie was a gentleman and loyal friend. He had a heart of gold. His oldest surviving friend, Ron “Buddha” Rodarte of Murrieta recalls, “Not everyone knows this, but Freddie had a speech impediment: Whenever I asked him for something, he was unable to say No!”

A quiet presence in social settings, Freddie loved a good party, opening up his home over the many years to host holidays and significant family gatherings. His home served as an important meeting place for the Juarez-Gallegos extended family for over fifty years.

Freddie’s true calling, however, was as a grandfather, shining in the role as a trusted confidant, benefactor and straight man to his eight grandchildren. Along with his granddaughters, he turned his grumpy-old-man routine into a steady source of light and laughter, realizing his greatest potential as the family funny man.

He spent his last days at home with a full house, bustling with grandchildren and too many cooks in the kitchen fussing over Thanksgiving menus. On his last Wednesday, he sat at his dining room table with some pumpkin pie. On his last Thursday, he basked in the aroma of baking muffins and turkey roasting in the oven. On his last Friday, his oldest son, Francisco, and grandson, Bruce, doted on his every wish to be wheelchair driven around the house for one last tour of the Santa Fe Springs home he loved so much. On his final full day, he sat outside in his backyard one last time, relishing in the Saturday sun.

And throughout all those last days, he sat and held the hands of his loved ones for long stretches, knowing his day neared, and whispered unintelligible utterances of love and gratitude to all that had eyes to see and ears to hear. And while he held tightly to life during a painful battle with lung cancer, he died happy to be home and grateful, indeed, for it all.