Gladys Vignettes

She was born in Caguas, Puerto Rico, on November 28, 1944. She attended university in Caguas, where she earned her degree in accounting.

Shortly after graduating, she was invited to travel to Chicago and live “temporarily” with relatives. That was in 1966. What was supposed to be temporary became the beginning of a remarkable life in Chicago.

Because of her education and determination, she quickly found work as a dental assistant and accounting manager. Not long afterward, relatives who were familiar with the driving school business in Puerto Rico encouraged her to enter the industry here in Chicago and eventually start a business of her own.

She accepted the challenge.

What she started would become what is today the oldest CDL training school in the state of Illinois. But her greatest accomplishment was never simply the business she built. It was the countless people she helped along the way.

I met her in 1968. From the moment we laid eyes on each other, we could not be apart. That was 58 years ago.

The number of people who come to the funeral home on Saturday will say more about her life than I ever could. It will show what she meant to Chicago’s Spanish-speaking community and especially to the community of Pilsen, where she chose to establish her business in 1968.

Her driving school provided much more than a place to obtain a driver’s license. At a time when transportation could determine whether someone was able to find and keep a job, she helped people create opportunities for themselves and their families.

Over time, she became something of a community organizer, although she never needed a title and usually did it all from behind her desk.

People would sometimes stand in line just to see her, ask a question, or seek her help with whatever problem they were facing. No matter who walked through the door, she had a smile and a warm greeting waiting for them.

Sometimes I would joke with her, “Hey, when are you going to have time for me?”

Somehow, she always did.

She found time for the people who needed her, time for me, and time for our family.

She had a gift for caring for people that is difficult to put into words. You had to see it in action to truly understand it. She was happiest when she could help someone who needed it most. And even those who did not need anything from her felt welcome in her presence. People knew that when she spoke to them, they were being treated with genuine kindness, compassion, and love.

When she established the business in Pilsen, she was determined to succeed. On snowy Chicago mornings, she would be the first one outside with a shovel, clearing the snow herself. The neighbors were amazed to see her doing work that, at the time, they rarely saw a woman doing. But that was simply who she was. She had made up her mind that the business would succeed, and she was willing to do whatever work was necessary to make it happen.

It would take many pages to describe everything she did for the Pilsen community.

We never called what she did “charity,” because to her, it wasn't charity. It was simply one human being helping another human being in a time of need. She believed that helping one another was not something extraordinary. It was something we were supposed to do.

The number of people who come to say goodbye will not surprise me. For 58 years, people have reminded me again and again how fortunate I was to spend my life with such a wonderful woman.

And they were right.

I was incredibly fortunate to have spent 58 years by her side.

So, as people say, this is not goodbye.

It is simply, so long, my dear. I will see you soon.