Today, Christmas Day, would have been Gary Joe Mounce’s 88th birthday. Sadly, the UT-Rio Grande Valley professor emeritus and longtime Rio Grande Guardian columnist has passed away.
He died earlier this week at a hospice in The Woodlands after battling cancer for the past couple of years.
I am going to miss him. He was not just a good friend but a soulmate, a strong supporter of the Guardian and in some ways its conscience. He wrote regularly for us for more than 15 years and would often fret about whether his latest column was too provocative; that it would cause us to lose advertisers. I always told him not to worry, to please keep writing. I loved his articles on culture, the arts, politics, the Rio Grande Valley and Latin America. I published every one of them.
Mounce wrote a book earlier this year called A Writing Fool. It combined a few fictional essays, along with some of his favorite columns for the Guardian.
“I seem not to be able to stop writing; hence, some in my treasured family have called me a ‘writing fool.’ Now, more than ever, with dangers to our American Democracy, I feel the need to share my experiences. I wish to reach out to as many as possible in the reading public in this unique area, urging them to observe and appreciate their surroundings more, to include our magnificent, significant neighbors in Mexico.”
I interviewed Mounce about the book about eight months ago. I was curious to know where his passion for civil rights, his support for minority groups, and his love for Mexico came from. Click here to watch the interview.
Mounce was born in rural Oklahoma in 1937. In his interview with me he pointed out that he was not exposed to too many cultures growing up in Oklahoma. However, his parents - both of whom had attended Oklahoma A&M in Stillwater - gave him an appreciation of other cultures. His mother taught at the inter-tribal Chilocco Indian School and taught her son the Mexican Hat Dance. His father would tell him stories about being stationed at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio between the two world wars and working at a Mexican grocery store.
Mounce’s love of Mexico and Mexican culture began when his family moved to New Mexico and he met his first girlfriend, Ramona Méndez. “She lived in a box car. I thought that was so cool. I wished I lived in a box car.”
He absorbed more cultures when serving in the U.S. Army. “I was in a multi-cultural swirl. And I found to be true the Spanish dichotomy, ‘En cada cabeza un mundo.’ In each head a world. My comfort zone expanded. I gained acceptance from new friends. I was glad for previous lesson from church and family. Gracias a Diós poir todos.”
After serving in the Army, Mounce taught at St. Mary’s University, before moving to the Rio Grande Valley 46 years ago to teach at UT-Pan American. He taught Mexican and Latin American politics in UTPA’s political science department. He had earned his PhD at UT-Austin and his Master’s at Berkeley. “I love to teach. I was a professor of political science for over 50 years,” Mounce wrote in the forward to his book.
Mounce also taught at La Universidad de las Américas in San Andrés Cholula, Puebla, Mexico, and University of Salamanca in Spain, the latter as part of a studies abroad program. He always encouraged his students to participate in studies abroad programs and, in his interview with the Guardian, expressed concern that such opportunities are being whittled away.
After being discharged from M.D. Anderson, Mounce amazingly went back to UTRGV to teach for part of a semester. He would have loved to have kept going but he did not have the strength. The Guardian interviewed him in his class, in his element; along with a couple of his students. Here are the interviews:
Mounce in the classroom:
An interview with UTRGV student Brandon Valdez:
An interview with UTRGV student Marisol Ojeda:
In his interview with the Guardian from his home, around eight months ago, Mounce spoke about a screenplay he had written about the Monarch butterflies that fly north every spring from Mexico. He hoped it would be turned into a movie. Hopefully it still will. He also thanked Randall Jones of Albuquerque, New Mexico for producing his book. He and Jones share a granddaughter. “The book would not have happened without his instigation and wisdom.”
Here is the Guardian's interview with Mounce at his home in Edinburg:
Here is a reposting of Gary Mounce's Farewell Column:
How many Rio Grande Valley residents are currently receiving treatment at the world famous M. D. Anderson Medical Center in Houston, Texas? How many have been there in the past?
Dozens? Hundreds? I know of a few notables. I trust many of them—and the international multitudes that arrive yearly—see and appreciate, as I do, the capable work by the doctors, and staff of all ethnicities: Latinos, Latin Americans, Asians (to include many from India), African, African Americans, and Anglos. M. D. Anderson (hereafter, MDA), in effect, mirrors Houston itself, comprised of one-forth Anglo, one-forth Latino, one-forth Asian, and one-forth Black.
I went because I am dying—as we all are—but in my case, hastened by cancer, of the bladder and kidney. I chose MDA (as per their slogan) because “it matters where you go first.” I may be dying, but am also living, and am very lucky. My generous family welcomes me to stay with them, near Houston. Even my sister came from Oklahoma to be with me. She and/or my daughter and/or my wife accompany me to MDA, helping to navigate the dizzying number of floors and elevators there.
My son-in-law shared with me his capable Uber driver, Mohammed, from north Africa. He regales us with stories of his native country and his successful family business in Houston, complete with an account of acquiring camel’s milk for his autistic son. After one exciting trip down infamous Interstate 45, into Houston, he laughed when I shouted “thank God for immigrants!”
I reiterate, I trust other patients see and appreciate this heady mix of multi-cultural citizens and others. One nurse paid for my coffee at the charming Waterfall Cafe. Another sweet lady from Women of Vision, New Hope Fellowship Church, gifted mea hand made quilt (colorful recreation of Moses, parting the sea); I appreciated so much, because with disease and medicine, I feel the cold much more.
But I am lucky. So many are so much worse off. My hair and beard don’t grow. I lost taste buds, I have little feeling in my fingers, making typing on a sensitive laptop quite laborious. But I cant complain. We can’t ignore recent flashes of racism and misogyny. But I have hope at this holy season, as Christmas and Hannakuh combine, as I continue my journey of health. May the reader share in that hope.
