Iris Cristine Guerra

On 25 August in 1933, already parents of a son, Raymond, born the previous July, Ramon and Emilia Rodriguez, natives of Puerto Rico who now called New York City home, became parents again to a daughter at then City Hospital of New York. She would be their only daughter–and almost a decade later, she would become their middle child upon the birth of one more son, Nelson. And they called her Edith Christine.

:::record scratch, narrator voice::: Mmm …not exactly.

No, not exactly.

Perhaps it was the chaos of the maternity ward. Perhaps it was late and everyone was tired. Or perhaps, her parents’ strongly accented English wasn’t exactly clear to the mostly Irish-American staff. But it all got cleared up eventually two days later. And so on 27 August–a date that for the rest of her life held far more meaning to everyone who loved her than 25 August–Ramon and Emilia brought home Iris Cristine.

There should be a law that children never know pain. But when she was about three, Iris Cristine–who had snuck away from her sitter–fell and hit her head rushing up the stairs after her brother and the other building kids as they all ran to escape an exploding basement boiler. She lay unconscious in the steam for over 15 minutes until firefighters found her.

Iris Christine suffered 2nd and 3rd degree burns on forty percent of her body. She would spend over a year in the hospital–first in the burn ward, then in rehabilitation, learning to walk again. Her father–who went to see her every single day of her stay–brought his Little One home just after her fourth birthday.

After returning to her family, Little One spent the rest of the 1930s and 40s dodging outbreak after outbreak of polio and attending NYC public schools (PS 54, Robert E. Simon JHS), graduating from Julia Richman High School (“Same high school as Lauren Bacall, you know.”) in 1951. Rumor has it that in senior year, her 4’11” self scored the winning basket of a city tournament with the help of her best friends, Carmen and ‘Vangie–and a step stool.

:::narrator voice::: What about her Sweet 16?

Yes, her Sweet 16.

Little One's parents held a Sweet 16 party for her… and a certain young Mexicano who often dined there with friends dropped in with a gardenia for the birthday girl. The young Mexican was charming. The birthday girl was interested. The birthday girl’s father was less than amused. And in those days, that was that. (At least on THAT occasion.)

Since her height (and lack of a WNBA) kept her from going pro, after two years as a clerk in the bowels of a Manhattan law firm battling daily with IBM punch cards, Little One decided she 1/hated computers (it was to be a lifelong grudge) and 2/chose instead to mix her love of science with her love of cooking (she was the daughter of two restaurant owners after all) and accept a small scholarship to the New York Institute of Dietetics. And so Little One took her first step to becoming the very cosmopolitan Miss Rod.

Upon graduation and licensure in 1955, Miss Rod embarked on a 15 year career as a dietician and nutritionist that saw her serve in three hospitals and one convalescent home in three states. The highlight of her working life was her role as Head Dietician at Jewish Memorial Hospital of New York. Beyond developing an almost Talmudic understanding of kashrut (Jewish dietary law) during her time there, while at Jewish Memorial, Miss Rod was also on hand to celebrate the birth of one of Jerry Lewis’ children and also suffer through a two week chicken pox quarantine in the children’s ward due to a DO NOT ENTER sign having fallen down.

While she was living that life as a single, Puerto RIcan career woman in mid-century Manhattan, Miss Rod ran into that young Mexican again, now back from his Army service overseas. It took about 10 more years, but he finally asked on a day she finally said yes–and in February 1970, Miss Rod became Mrs. Guerra.

Becoming Mrs. Guerra didn’t mean just becoming a wife. To be Mrs. Guerra for over 50 years also meant becoming hija, hermana, prima, and tía to the wild and wonderful family of Guerras and their associated kin in Mexico, California, New York, and Texas that she loved beyond measure and who adored her right back. And when her own brothers started their families–Mrs. Guerra was thrilled to have two adorable nephews who went on to have their own families of Rodriguez great nephews and nieces that she loved when they were near and prayed for daily when they were not.

:::narrator voice::: She kept going though.

Yes. Yes, she did.

After 10 years at home, first in a New Jersey apartment then in a little house in Anaheim, California in the shadow of Disneyland, Mrs. Guerra became an ESL instructional aide for the Anaheim Unified School District, serving at Paul Revere Elementary for 20 years. A generation of Anaheim 4th graders passed under her care–and it was not uncommon for a quick trip to Target to become a walkabout to calls of “Maestra Guerra!”, “Missus Qwehrah!”, or the occasional “Ms. Garrett!” And in her “spare” time, Mrs. Guerra rose to become a part-time merchandise display supervisor for Ambassador cards, not just for the pocket money…but because she never met a holiday she didn’t love….and this job made it possible for her to decorate her house for EVERY known greeting card holiday to delight of visitors…who never left without a stuffed toy to take home.

By the mid-90s, with a fully retired husband, Mrs. Guerra went on to a full, active, and joyful retirement with her husband, Noe, traveling to enjoy adventures and life with family and friends throughout the US, Mexico, and Puerto Rico. Her heart was full, her life was full, and her home was always full…of friends, music, food, and the sound of laughter. Her retirement joys included returning to her lifelong interest in history and non-fiction as an avid reader, gardening her roses, and in these last years, doting on her beloved Havanese dog, Journey, while following the Los Angeles Lakers like a faith.

Mrs. Guerra was a lifelong observant Roman Catholic, a tradition that sustained her through many sorrows and many more joys. Her final years–given her husband’s failing health, the COVID-19 pandemic, and ultimately Noe’s death–were lived in a much smaller and quieter way, but she was always held with respect, sweetness, and love by family and friends until her last day.

To put the almost 90 years of Iris C. Guerra in perspective…she was the same age as the MLB All Star Game and King Kong. She was 8 on 7 December 1941, 23 when Ed Sullivan put Elvis on television, and 30 when Kennedy was shot. She was a bride to be when the US put a man on the moon, the mother of a toddler when Nixon resigned, and an empty nester partying in Vegas for the millennium.

She used a party line, had a phone number with an exchange, and owned a rotary, cordless, and a smartphone in her lifetime. She learned how to drive and dance in the Mad Men’s Manhattan and how to gamble in Bugsy Malone’s Vegas. She mourned Carole Lombard, Marilyn Monroe, the Princesses Margaret, Grace and Diana, as well as Queen Elizabeth II. She knew where she was when JFK, RFK, MLK, Malcolm X, Lennon, and Reagan were shot.

She lived under 16 American presidents, witnessed WWII, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, both Gulf Wars, as well as unrest around the world–from Latin American revolutions to the Irish Troubles to the Balkans to the Middle East. She cried on 9/11 and swore on 1/6. She had a lifetime crush on Tyrone Power and blushing appreciation for Pierce Brosnan. Mrs. Guerra might have been short, but she lived in big times–and you’d need ten American Girl books to do her adventures justice.

:::narrator voice::: Forgetting something?

No, never.

Edith Christine who was really Iris Cristine who was called Little One who grew up to be Miss Rod will forever be known best as Mrs. Iris C. Guerra. Two people called her daughter, two, sister. Many called her family; even more called her friend. One man called her wife.

But in July 1971, a late night arrival gave her a new name she loved best of all–Mommie. It was her favorite word, the sound she loved best, and the last words she heard from her daughter on the phone the night she passed–”I love you, Mommie.”

Iris Cristine is preceded in death by her husband of over 50 years, Noe, as well her parents and older brother. She is survived by her daughter Erica Guerra, and her husband, Lawrence Hindle. She is also mourned by her surviving brother, Nelson, and a multitude of nephews, nieces, cousins, in-laws, and close friends from every part of her life across California, Texas, New York, and Mexico. After funeral services on 24 March, Iris Cristine’s final resting place will be Fairhaven Memorial Park in Santa Ana, CA.

Our family thanks everyone for their kindness and love during this time of grief and mourning. Please know we welcome your support, contact, and all your memories of Iris, an open hearted, quick witted, and absolutely adorable woman of great presence we loved and were so very happy to share with you all.