Walking the streets of Bakersfield
Danny Melendez was a beloved man who could be seen walking everywhere. He was usually on his way to play his harmonica at a funeral, wedding, or Mass at local Catholic churches.
Several weeks ago, at the age of 80, Danny passed away. He was a permanent fixture in the
La Loma neighborhood of northeast Bakersfield. Danny was one of the many colorful characters whose anonymous personality was part of the beautiful fabric of growing up on the east side.
You felt as though he belonged to everyone and yet few really knew Danny’s life story. He was like a positive apparition that seemed to be every place at the same time. Even when you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but smile when you heard him playing his harmonica from somewhere inside the church or graveside at a funeral.
At a young age Danny was afflicted with polio that affected one arm and a leg. Using a cane, wheelchair, or driving were options polio would not afford him. He never attended school. His mother, Rose, took care of Danny while growing up. When his mother died, Danny’s sister, Julia, came to help the family. For the past 12 years, his niece Andrea Hernandez moved in to help with him and other family needs.
“I would put money in his wallet for food and he would be gone the whole day. Everyone seemed to watch out for Danny,” Andrea commented.
Danny had every excuse to be a man of constant sorrow but choose spreading
happiness through service to others instead. His permanent limp and obvious challenges never compromised his drive help those he deemed in greater need.
Rain, sun, cold or blazing hot summer days, it was common to see Danny walking the streets of Bakersfield. To many like me, seeing him on East California Avenue or Baker or Haley streets was a sign of good luck, an omen of good fortune or improved health coming your way. Seeing him was a sign your day was going to be OK. And when you didn’t see him for a while, you worried and prayed he was alright. And I believe many like me, many of us unconsciously emotionally adopted Danny.
I asked Danny’s longtime neighborhood friend Kimberly Armendariz how many miles she thought he walked in one day. She giggled and said, “There was no way to tell. But he walked everywhere. He rarely accepted rides.”
“He was always selling tickets to the next church fundraisers,” Kimberly added.
“I am lucky he came into my life. He was an angel walking on this earth. He was a man of God with a heart of gold. Everyone looked out for Danny,” Kimberly said. “He was a blessing to many of us. Now he has earned his wings and is back in heaven.”
Danny was also social media’s predecessor. Long before Facebook, Instagram, or texting, there was Danny. He knew everything about everybody. Like a town crier, and as he was trying to sell you tickets to a fundraiser, he would share the news of someone recently lost, or an upcoming church dance.
At most of these events, Danny would be there proudly standing next to the stage with his golden smile playing his harmonica with the band regardless of the style of music or if he knew the songs. And at the end of the events, he could be seen sweeping or helping move tables while trying to sell you tickets to the next event.
During his last 10 years, Danny wasn’t able to walk his usual path in service to others.
“His mind was willing, but his body refused,” states Andrea. “I thank everyone who looked out for my uncle.”
The response from a recent Facebook posting let his family know how many people loved Danny.
“We had no idea how many people knew and cared about him. We discovered we had our own neighborhood celebrity,” Andrea giggled.
Danny’s family announced plans for his final services. Rosary will be March 11 at Greenlawn on River Boulevard and on March 12 a Mass at the Guadalupe Church Shrine on East Brundage Lane.
I’ll be there. I just wish I knew how to play harmonica.