Victim was ‘ epitome of a working mom’
Hundreds gathered at a church in the Mission District on Friday, filling the stone steps leading up to the doors of St. Peter’s Catholic Church and spilling into Alabama Street almost to the corner of 24th Street. A man who lives in one of the pastel- colored flats lining the block across from the church said he’d never seen so many people at a service in the 45 years he’d lived there.
“She must have been special,” he said.
The reason so many had gathered in all black on such a warm summer day was to celebrate the life of Lilianna Preciado, a 34- year- old plumber for the San Francisco Public Utilities Commission who died last week in a work accident. High school friends, family, co- workers and city personnel paid their respects. Many wore lilies pinned to their jackets and blouses.
Preciado started working at the PUC in 2012 as an apprentice. She quickly rose through the ranks to be promoted to lead plumber in 2016, when she was put in charge of her own crew. Preciado was one of two female plumbers working for the city.
On June 13, Preciado was killed when a car being loaded onto a tow truck became unhitched and hit her while she
was repairing a water main break on the 500 block of 28th Street.
Witnesses told NBC Bay Area that the tow truck driver had been complaining about defective equipment on the truck just before the car came loose. Preciado was transferred to San Francisco General Hospital but died later that same day.
Outside the church Friday, Iris Ledesma, wearing red lipstick and dabbing her eyes, stood and talked with her friend Becky Muzquiz. Ledesma met Preciado in 2002, when they were both working at Home Depot, and they quickly became close.
“I was going through a hard time during that time and she stuck by me without no questions, no nothing. She was just there,” Ledesma said, her voice cracking. “She was my maid of honor. She was there when I was in labor with my baby. I remember when my grandmother was sick, we went down to L. A. and she rode with me. She was a great friend. A great listener.”
“Her smile, her laughter and that funky bubble gum lipstick,” Muzquiz chimed in, rubbing Ledesma’s shoulder as tears rolled down her cheeks. “She always had her bright lipstick no matter where she went. I told her, Lily, why you wanna be a plumber? She goes, why can’t I? I can do it if they can do it.”
“They” meaning men — Preciado worked in a world of men.
Out of 300 employees working in Miller’s division of the PUC, only 40 are women. Just three of those female employees are in the trades, two plumbers and one electrician, said Katie Miller, a division manager for the district, at the memorial mass.
“She was a model employee, one of our best, most capable plumbers,” Miller said.
When Preciado got pregnant with her now 2- year- old daughter, she didn’t take a day off work. The water district set up a lactation station in the basement for her, Miller said.
“She was the epitome of a working mom,” Miller said. “She was a single mom and she balanced that with her work. I look up to her. She was my hero. We need more women like her.”
Preciado was many things to many people. A model employee. A hard worker. A good friend. A positive force. A mother.
Co- workers at the memorial often commented that Preciado’s daughter was her world. Preciado balanced duties as a doting mother with being a formidable worker. As a city plumber, Preciado excelled and demanded respect.
“She didn’t take crap from nobody and wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty,” said Sal Castro, one of her crew members. Wiping his reddened eyes, he talked about her sense of humor and work ethic.
“Whenever we got to a job, she’d grab her ponytail holder and get the job done. She always made sure her nails were done right,” Castro said, managing a smile. “Whenever we jumped in a hole and her nails got a little off, she wasn’t afraid to tell us to drop her off to get them fixed.”
Tony Lucero, a laborer for the water district and close friend of Preciado, stood with other men in her crew next to her truck outside of the church Friday. The bright green sides and white hood gleamed in the midday sun. Lucero had spent nearly four hours the day before cleaning the truck until it was spotless, and a bouquet of white lilies was taped to the windshield.
The day Preciado died, Lucero asked his supervisor if he could finish the job she had started, as well as write a note for her and bury it there. Across the street, he noticed a lily growing, so he picked it and included it with the note.
After the dirt was filled in, he spray painted on the soft earth: “Rest easy, Lily.”
“If you ever came up on a job site, she was always the one in the hole, and the guys were handing her tools,” Lucero said. “She was one of the best plumbers we had. She’s the best person you’d wanna meet with the biggest heart. I’m going to miss her.”