Gold took a seat next to Christina Ramirez’s mother in the worn front pew of the musty church in Chicago’s oldest Mexican parish. “I’m so terribly sorry,” he whispered. Theresa Ramirez clasped her hands tightly as she fought back tears. “Thank you, David.” Gold’s throat was scratchy from the votive candles flickering near the altar. Our Lady of Guadalupe had neither the majesty of Immaculate Conception nor the grandeur of Saint Michael’s, but its simplicity and warmth embodied the essence of South Chicago. The parish was founded in 1923 to serve the Mexican immigrants who had come to work in the mills during the steel strike of 1919. It was first housed in a wooden structure at 90th and Mackinaw. By 1928, the parish had outgrown its original building, and a sturdy brick replacement with an onion-shaped dome was constructed at 91st and Brandon. Except for the wear on its dark red bricks, Our Lady looked the same as it did when the cornerstone was laid, and it was always full on Sundays.
