My father-in-law, Poncho, was a butcher by trade, but to those who knew him, he was far more than that. I met Poncho just two years after losing my own father, and in many ways, he stepped into that space in my life—not by trying, but simply by being who he was: a steady, skillful, and good-hearted man.
Over the years, I watched Poncho live out his gift for craftsmanship. He was the kind of person everyone called when something needed fixing, building, or cooking. Whether it was preparing a fine meal, firing up the grill, working on cars, painting, roofing, or building something from scratch, Poncho did it with a perfectionist’s eye and a craftsman’s pride.
I’ll never forget the time he found out I had been walking five miles home from downtown San Antonio to Pleasanton and Military Drive after missing the bus. He looked at me with that familiar scolding tone and said, “Whaza-a-matta-con-you, Mexican!” That was Poncho’s way—tough love, laced with humor and care.
And then there was the shed. My wife, Veronica—his “Flaca”—and I just wanted a simple shed behind our new home in Killeen, something to store lawn equipment. But Poncho had other plans. What started as a shed turned into a cottage, complete with French doors, two windows, and a front porch—built on a 400-square-foot concrete slab. That was Poncho: never halfway, always building something better than what you imagined.
These memories stay with me because they show who he truly was—strong, generous, and devoted to his family. May you rest in peace, Suegro. Your hands built more than homes; they built love, laughter, and memories that will last a lifetime. For everyone whose path you crossed, you built something greater—with your hands, and with your heart.
