The Unfortunate Fall of
Cesar Chavez

“You are never strong enough that you don’t need help.” -Cesar Chavez

By Phill Courtney
It was 1968, widely regarded now as one of the most turbulent in American history, and it was perhaps during my final year at Corona Junior High School that I’d first heard about Cesar Chavez and his United Farm Workers (UFW) movement as many others did after the organization called for a boycott of table grapes to win rights for farmworkers.
Partly inspired by Mahatma Gandhi and his non-violent resistance against British colonial rule in India, Chavez had gained more national attention after he’d employed one of Gandhi’s techniques to achieve social justice: fasting, with Chavez’s fast aimed at bringing attention to the need for only peaceful protest against the appalling conditions under which farm workers labored.
He’d gained even more attention when, after three weeks on liquids only, he decided he’d heed his doctors’ advice to end the fast and did so on March 10th with Robert Kennedy as his guest of honor at the UFW’ s headquarters in Delano, California, where they “broke bread,” witnessed by both the national press and a crowd of supporters that numbered in the thousands.
Soon Chavez would support Kennedy’s run for president only to see him cut down shortly thereafter by an assassin’s bullet that June, just two short months after Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination. So, yes, 1968. Talk about a “turbulent” year.
Despite all these terrible traumas, the UFW continued to gain more victories, and were then helped in no small measure by the election in 1974 of a young and truly progressive California governor, Jerry Brown, who came in like a ray of sunshine following Ronald Reagan, who, although somewhat sympathetic to unions since he’d actually headed one—the Screen Actors Guild—never made his misgivings about Chavez and UFW a secret.
That “heady” period perhaps reached its zenith in 1975 when Chavez, the UFW, and Brown moved a bill through the legislature that would empower workers with the right in secret to choose which union to represent them (or none at all) in their bargaining with employers. Signed into law in June of that year as the California Agricultural Labor Relations Act, it was widely seen as a major victory for Chavez and the UFW. Afterwards, though, it clearly exposed fears Chavez harbored that the energy would now be directed not into the over-all “struggle” of “the movement,” but haggling over such secondary issues as wages and benefits.
In the early Eighties, after we’d bid a sad so long to Jerry Brown and we were then forced to face the governorship of the “corporate-friendly” Republican, George Deukmejian, the UFW seemed to lose some urgency. However, by August of 1988, Chavez had found another “cause,” focusing on the massive use of deadly pesticides by agri-business and the harm they were doing in the fields, as well as the harm they were doing to the workers who labored in those fields.
Pesticide use is notoriously difficult to control, and when it’s dumped and sprayed on crops, vast amounts of it is dispersed unintentionally to other areas, where it ends up being breathed and absorbed through the skin by workers, many of whom end up sick and even dead, but are seen by many in charge of “factory farming” (never openly, of course) as simply the price of doing business. (That our corporate, petro-chemically-based food industry should have been seen long ago as literally a “dead end,” is the subject for another day.)
Understandably, Chavez was outraged by all this, and the thoughtless and even knowingly negligent use of these deadly chemicals had resulted in a hard-hitting 17-minute video documentary from the UFW called The Wrath of Grapes, featuring Chavez; employees and their loved one; and parents who’d seen spikes of cancers among their children in communities near the fields.
That summer, Chavez had started another one of his fasts over the problem, and by late August he was nearing his 29th day, with word that he would break the fast that day with Jesse Jackson (who, as with RFK before, was running for president) in a public ceremony at the UFW’s Delano headquarters. At the time I was planning to return to Southern California after visiting my cousin in Mendocino County, and it occurred to me that I could make the ceremony on my way south.
So, that’s what I did, and when I learned that Chavez had decided to extend his fast for another week, decided to start my own, which I continued for five more days before ending it with a slice of organically grown, pesticide-free apple. Chavez ended his a week later, on day 36. Over a month without eating, which may have contributed to his fairly early death only some four years later at the age of 66.
Meanwhile, every year, around the time of his birthday, I would have my own “Cesar Chavez Day” for my students, using The Wrath of Grapes video (which a friend had obtained after writing to the UFW) as a kick-off for the lesson, which included an optional assignment of writing the United Farm Workers. (One student would later show me a letter he’d received from Chavez.)
I continued those days after Chavez died; partly because I was still steeped then in the Cesar Chavez “mythos,” and partly because the two high schools where I taught from 1987 to 2002, were in a town with a large Latino population—in fact I had several classes composed almost entirely of kids with names like Garcia and Martinez.
I thought they should know at least the basic facts about this admirable member of their ethnic community since I’d discovered that they’d encountered little or none at all, and I was particularly inspired to do so after one of my Latino students said he’d thought that the champion Mexican boxer Julio Cesar Chavez had died when he’d heard about the death of this other Latino hero who was also famous for fighting but in a totally different way.
After he passed in April of 1993, I wrote a memorial tribute for Chavez, which appeared the next month in a coffeehouse magazine running my columns back then, and, looking back on it, I’m particularly regardful now at how “star struck” I’d been, opening the piece with these sentences: “One of my heroes died last month. Cesar Chavez was a modern-day Gandhi. He carried on the tradition of [Henry David] Thoreau and Martin Luther King, outstanding Americans all not because they spouted warm, patriotic homilies about the “greatness” of the United States, but rather because they were brave enough to point out when we were falling short of ‘The American Dream.’”
I stand by that assessment, even after those charges came out last March about Chavez and his “Dark Side,” which rightfully must be referred to as “allegations” since they haven’t been adjudicated in a court of law. However, they do not change the courage displayed by Chavez and, of course, those other three men mentioned in my column when they spoke out against the injustices perpetrated by their governments; an outspokenness that resulted in all four spending some time confined by “the state” for their resistance.
As far as my “hero worship” goes: it was perpetuated in no small part by the way Cesar’s “dark side” was silenced so successfully by those around him, and one reason why I continued basking in that undiluted “glow” of his “greatness” for over 30 more years, continuing to include him among my select group of “heroes.”
In fact, here’s an interesting insight into that “worship.” During those times when I’ve carped about the Catholic Church and its many injustices (usually to my wife, who was raised Catholic), I’ve always added this “however:” although I can’t think of any famous evangelicals nor fundamentalists I admire—a list that includes such disgusting men as Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson—I have a whole list of Catholics I do.
People like social worker Dorothy Day (who did so much to help the “hopeless”); Father Damian (who worked with the lepers in Hawaii until he was finally infected, and is one of my wife’s heroes as well); priest Oscar Romero of El Salvador (who spoke out against his corrupt government and was killed on the alter for doing so); and even the actor Martin Sheen, who’s done so much so improve this country, both on-screen and off.
I’d always included Cesar Chavez among that list of luminaries until last March when I, along with so many others, began the process of coming to grips with one of life’s depressing realities: it’s hard to lose a hero. But, before that day of reckoning arrived, the tributes and honors just kept pouring in.
In June of 1994, in the town where I was teaching, they opened a new library named in his honor, and I was there for the dedication, while another memorable day came almost ten years later when I had a chance to meet Dolores Huerta, who’d co-founded the UFW with Chavez, and came up with the phrase that would become the motto of the “movement”—“Si se puede.” (Yes, we can.)
It was June of 2013, and my former hometown in partnership with my college and other civic organizations held almost a week of activities downtown around the dedication of a Chavez statue nearby on the Main St. mall, with Wednesday night devoted to a panel of “conversations” and “reflections” about the “legacy” of Chavez. Huerta was one of the participants, and I had a chance to have a photo taken with her.
Huerta (who turned ninety-six this April 10th), was born in the New Mexican mining town of Dawson to a father who was described by the L. A. Times as a “fiery union leader,” having joined the United Mine Workers, later going on to serve in the New Mexico state legislature. Then, after her parents divorced when Dolores was five, her mother moved Dolores and her siblings to Stockton, California, where her mother became active in unions with her job in the canning industry.
So, it was probably only natural that Huerta would became an activist herself, soon joining and then running the Stockton chapter of the Community Service Organization, which focused on civil rights matters among the Latino population, but welcomed members from all ethnic backgrounds, and it was there that she met Chavez, later moving on to form the UFW with him.
Through the years, Huerta has proven a reliably progressive voice on almost all the “hot button” cultural issues you can name, and even “lived in sin” with Chavez’s brother, Richard, demonstrating her commitment to feminism (and perhaps a woman’s right to “sin” as well?) in a partnership that produced four of the thirteen children she’d eventually have, including two by Cesar under those “dark” circumstances. Yes, thirteen. Rather remarkable, considering all the other “labors” she’d taken on.
So it was quite an honor to meet her in 2013, after she, like Chavez, had become an “icon” and I would think about her from time to time after that, especially in 2018 when, approaching the age of 90, she developed pneumonia (which was my mother’s cause of death), with some reports indicating that she might even be close to death. But she rallied, despite also having heart problems.
Then, in March of 2026, in the same month as California’s annual “Cesar Chavez Day” on the 31st, came those shocking, “bombshell” revelations of his transgressions, which involved not just Huerta, but at least two girls who were young teenagers at the time, followed shortly by the fall of both his reputation as a “secular saint,” and his statues as well.
To say I was blindsided by the “bombshells,” having spent so many years venerating the man; listing him among my heroes; writing that tribute; and all those lessons holding him up to my students as the kind of “hero” this country was (and still is) in desperate need of, is an understatement.
Then, too, I was also upset with Huerta after hearing those justifications for her years of silence about the two times Chavez had impregnated her (now proven), first by emotional coercion, but also through an actual rape in the 1970’s, saying she feared doing so would harm the movement and that no one would believe her, particularly the police since they always displayed a complete contempt for the UFW and all those associated with it.
And while I do try to be understanding, I’ve always opposed the enabling of offenders, even when people have “reasons” for doing so. It’s why vile behavior by both genders is dismissed; ignored; and often denied, even when known to be true; now even reaching the highest levels of government, with millions dismissing and even claiming as “fake” the contemptable sexual crimes (and many others, of course) committed by the current resident of the White House.
Of course, a number of our former presidents have had their own “secret lives” of denial too, and much of it exploded into the national conversation with the many disclosures of Bill Clinton’s “transgressions.” It was disturbing to see how many (including some friends) dismissed those as well, including his wife who’d often said we should “believe the women” when they say they’ve been violated, but made an exception when it came to politicians in the Democratic party, and one in particular: her husband.
Unfortunately, Huerta had overlooked those as well when she supported Hillary’s denials of Bill’s “sins,” and did not believe “the women” (numbering some 12 in total) who’d spoken out against him, thinking perhaps, as she had about the UFW, that if she “believed the women” it would hurt another organization: in this case the Democratic party. So, when I made that “pilgrimage” to see her, lurking in the back of my mind was her unfortunate support of both Hillary’s many lies and her 2008 presidential run.
Shortly after the March revelations I also had some unexpected “push back” from an unexpected source: my running group, which happened when, as we sat around a table having some pizza after a run, I mentioned being “down” about both the Iran war and the recent fall of Chavez, one of my heroes. A member of the group (who happens to be a criminal defense attorney) then cautioned us to not automatically believe the stories about him; that women sometimes lie, to which I always say: and, of course, vice versa as well, so it’s best to avoid blanket statements like “I believe the women,” or, yes, men. Each claim must be examined individually on its own merits—or lack of them.
So that night I pushed back at the pizza parlor and also made this point: what would Cesar’s accusers’ motivation be at this late date if not to tell the truth? To which the lawyer did not have an answer, but added: well, he’s dead now so he can’t defend himself, and besides that, another asked, what “purpose” would these revelations have now? To which I responded again by saying I could think of at least one “good” reason: we don’t want to continue “honoring” a man’s whose private behavior didn’t warrant it.
Another one of my running partners also brought up the “sins” of Columbus and how many are now calling for “the discover of the new world” to be “dethroned,” and reminded us that we all have a “dark side.” Which is true, but “all of us” have not groomed adolescent girls to abuse, and “all of us” have not committed rape; and “all of us” have not cut off the hands of Native Americans when they didn’t produce the gold we’ve demanded.
Finally, I should mention many of the calls from commentators and those who knew Chavez, asking us to remember that this is not about just one man; to remember the good he did do; and warned us about the pitfalls of putting our energy into elevating a man, rather than the struggles for justice he stood for.
The same holds true for another American with a holiday in his honor and who was also flawed, in his case by plagiarism and repeated adultery: Martin Luther King, Jr. And while we have not taken his statues down, nor renamed the streets in his honor, on the other hand, neither have we as a nation truly honored his messages either.
He warned us about the “three sins” of America, which include racism; militarism; and materialism; but the United States as of today, and the way it’s operating both among many of its people and at the highest levels of government, has, for the most part, shown a fundamental dishonoring of King’s “legacy,” especially seen in the disgraceful behavior of our current president who’s virtually embodied all three traits and has won millions of supporters by doing so.
And the same holds true for the “legacy” of Cesar Chavez. As of today, millions of tons of unneeded pesticides are still being used in one of the worst scams ever perpetrated by corporate “interests;” while tens of thousands of farm workers, who help put food on our tables, and therefore must obviously be included among those we called “essential workers” during the COVID pandemic, continue to be treated as if they aren’t.
So, this is what I regard as the telling “take away” from the life and fall of Cesar Chavez. Not the need to put up statues, but the need to put into action his messages along with those of other leaders like King, who, despite their “sins” and flaws, have called us, as Lincoln said, first to heed the “the better angels of our nature;” then to address our “flaws” as a nation; and finally to join in the continuing fight to end them.

Phill Courtney has been a high school English teacher, and twice a candidate for Congress with the Green party. His email is: pjcourtney1311@gmail.com