Get Loaded Rob

This weekend started off like any other: girls, booze, friends and a really good time at the bars and night clubs. It was an eventful weekend and as Sunday rolled around I figured it would be the same as any Super Bowl Sunday. I'd get together with my closest friends, throw down some beers, nachos, chips and dip and watch a competitive football game. Well, it wasn't that way at all. About two minutes into the second quarter of the game I received a phone call from my mom with the devastating news that my grandfather had passed earlier that day. The cause and details about when he actually passed weren't very definitive but the fact was, "he was no longer with us," so to speak.

At the moment, I was surrounded by friends having fun watching the game and I didn't know how to react. I couldn't believe what my mom had just told me. Do I completely fall apart right here, right now? Do I smile and act like everything is ok? How and what happened? Did I really just hear that my grandfather died today? Everything slowed down and for a moment I had tunnel vision. My stomach began to ache and I didn't know what to do. I just sat there and when everyone asked what was wrong, I teared up and mumbled, "My grandpa just passed away." With those words I took a swig from my beer and tried to "man-up" and assess the situation. I left that moment and joined my family at my grandmother’s house.

I arrived at my grandparents house and my grandfathers body was still in the front yard where he had passed earlier that day. Two police cars and an ambulance were in the driveway blocking everything but I just wanted to see him. I wanted to hug him for a brief moment before they carted his body away. I didn't know what his condition was or how he looked but I just wanted to see him one last time. I wanted to touch his hands to remember the dry roughness of his skin. A roughness that only portrayed the long and hardworking life that he lived.

We all expect our loved elders to someday pass away and move on to whatever comes next but this was very unexpected. My grandpa was a very healthy and active man. He hauled and split his own wood the old way; with an axe and a toughness normally seen in a 17 year-old boy. A wood splitter was not necessary, because he was a tough son-of-a-gun. All 5'5" and 140 pounds of him were as hard as nails. His hands weathered and worn and his fingers twisting at the knuckles from arthritis showed the type of worker he was. I remember when I was a child he would haul large rocks to use for his landscaping and this was at the age of 50. At that time, I thought he was the strongest man in the world. I thought he was made from steel. Steel or not, his personality was that of a soft heart that loved those around him.

My grandfather was by no means your typical 77 year-old man. He was very active in his community and loved to be out with friends and family. He worked as a substitute teacher and was absolutely LOVED by children. Whether he was at a high school football game, basketball game or wrestling tournament watching one of my cousins or out having coffee with friends he was always somewhere doing something. He was always productive and active. Between the times of 6 a.m. and 5 p.m. you could not find him at home.

Being a teacher for 35 years he had a way with the youth in his community. Children and teenagers gravitated towards him. They loved his sincerity and honesty. They loved that he could have fun and be childish like they were but above that, they appreciated that he treated them like people and not just children. Children are keen to that. They know who's sincere towards them. It was a gift he had and that he passed on to my aunt Theresa who has been a teacher and a principal for over 20 years. He also passed that trait onto my sister who is in her third year of college and aspires to become a teacher.

My grandfather taught generations of children in Taos and Pojoaque, New Mexico. His hands extended across northern New Mexico as a teacher, a coach, a mentor and a friend to many people. People I would've never imagined knew and respected my grandfather. Many loved him and adored him. I don't know how many times I've been in a bar or some sort of social setting and dropped his name to someone to get the, "Oh my god, that's your grandfather?!?!" response. It was always amazing to me that someone so humble and selfless could attract so much attention and appreciation from those around him.

Benito Martinez, my grandfather, lived his life for others. Plain and simple, he was the most selfless person I've ever met. If any of his students didn't have lunch he would feed them. My grandmother has told me stories of him emptying the refrigerator to take to school to feed the kids that didn't have anything. That was his nature: if you were needy or just plain hungry he would feed you or bring you clothes for winter. Whatever it took, he was always helping someone. Anyone I brought to my grandparents house would eat even if they weren't hungry. That's just the way he was. Give, give, give but he would never ask for anything in return.

My grandfather has been an inspiration to me. I have always loved the way he can make friends with anyone, anywhere. He was always happy and charming and that attracted people to him. He had a personality and an aura about him that people loved and appreciated. Ten minute trips to the grocery store lasted about an hour because he had to stop and talk to everyone. His popularity was almost mythical. Only hours after he passed my family started receiving phone calls from people offering their condolences and we hadn't even said a word to anyone besides those few in our immediate family.

The world has truly lost someone great. It's been so hard to believe that he's gone and he won't be there to give me a hard time when the Broncos play. I say that because he didn't have a favorite team. He just always rooted for the team that played yours or simply the team that won. That can be attributed to his competitive nature. Until his knees gave up on him he was an avid skier, runner, golfer, and basketball player. Coming from Taos as a basketball star he played college basketball for Highlands University in Las Vegas, New Mexico. He coached boys and girls basketball in Pojoaque where he was a teacher for over 30 years. He participated in the Senior Olympics and the Senior Basketball league. Sports was a passion that he passed onto his children and grandchildren. My family is completely surrounded with sports at all levels and we can thank my grandfather for that.

I haven't processed everything yet and although I have my moments there are times when I break down. I was close to him. He took care of me as a baby when my mom went to work night shifts at a cafe. He taught me responsibility and gave me my first job cutting tomatoes for his world famous salsa. He never scolded me but spoke to me as a human being when I had done something wrong or needed to be placed back on the right path. He was my pillar and a person I could look up to.

I miss my grandfather. I miss his laugh and his expressions. I miss the way he said "ohh nooo" when he teased you. As if to say, "Hombre, you've messed up so badly my only available response is: 'oh no.'" I miss the kind heart that made me something to eat or served me grandmas posole when I walked through the door. I miss how he would offer me a "7up" even though it was a Sprite. I miss him sitting in his room with a guitar strumming rancheros and singing old Spanish love ballads he learned in Taos from his days as a young man. The sweet tempo of his old fingers picking the strings while his other hand drifted across the fret board gently pressing every note.  I miss the sound of his soft and slightly off tune voice singing in Spanish. It's the small things he did that I will miss. The things we take for granted and pay little attention to.

Grandpa, I'm proud to be your grandson and I love you with all my heart. I'm hear to carry on your tradition and love for others especially my family. I will love and remember you always...

Obituary from the Santa Fe New Mexican

BENITO V. MARTINEZ Age 77, went to be with our Lord on February 3, 2008. Benito was born to: Jesus and Feloniz Ross-Martinez on October 7, 1930, in Rancho De Taos, New Mexico. Benito was a beloved husband, father, grandfather, and pillar to his community. He was preceded in death by his mother, Feloniz; and father, Jesus Martinez; brother, Felix Martinez; sisters: Tillie Romero, Teofila Trujillo, and Dolores Herrera all of Taos, New Mexico.

Benito was married to Viola Armijo of Las Vegas, New Mexico. After serving in the Army, Benito attended Highlands University on the G.I. Bill, where he earned a bachelor's degree and the equivalent of a master's degree in elementary education. He was employed as a teacher for 35 years, beginning at Pot Creek Lumber Camp, Llano Quemado Rural School and at Pojoaque Valley Public Schools. After retiring as a teacher in 1991, Benito returned to teaching as a volunteer at Gonzales Elementary as a Physical Education coordinator and Alvord Elementary. He was an Educational Assistant at Kearny and at Carlos Gilbert Elementary. Benito volunteered as a tour guide at the St. Francis Basilica Cathedral in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

As an avid sportsman, he loved to fish, hunt, golf, play basketball, baseball, run track, and ski. He is fondly remembered for his Barrio La Canada "flag football" program, recruiting kids from neighboring barrios and organizing field days. Benito was a dedicated fan and a supporter of the young athletes of New Mexico, including accomplishments of his grandchildren, children, and those close to him from Pojoaque High School, Santa Fe High School, and Capital High School.

Benito touched many lives across Northern New Mexico as a teacher, a coach, a mentor, and a friend to many people.

He is survived by his wife, Viola Martinez; daughters: Therese Moulton and husband Joe, Margarita (Maggie) Jaramillo and husband John; sons: Benito Martinez II and Arturo Martinez; seven grandchildren: Erik and Marc Moulton, Rob and Anamarie Yardman, Benito Martinez III, Lauren Ann and Kristian Arturo Martinez; brothers: Tommy Martinez, George Martinez; sisters: Mela Chavez, Betty Martinez and husband Roy; many nieces and nephews.

A Rosary will be held on Sunday, February 10, 2008, 7:30 p.m. at Berardinelli Family Chapel. Mass will be celebrated Monday, February 11, 2008, 10 a.m. at St. Francis Basilica Cathedral in Santa Fe. Burial will take place at Santa Fe National Cemetery at 11:30 a.m. following the mass.

Serving as Pallbearers are: Antonio Trujillo, Benito Herrera, Rob Yardman, Erik Moulton, Benito Martinez III, and Marc Moulton. Honorary Pallbearers will be: Anamarie Yardman, Lauren Ann, and Kristian Martinez.

In lieu of flowers, donations can by made to a youth organization of your choice in the name of Benito V. Martinez. Arrangements are under the direction of Berardinelli Family Funeral Service 1399 Luisa Street Santa Fe, NM 87505 (505) 984-8600

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