Ernesto Serrano says that some of his neighbors think he’s crazy, and maybe they’re right. Why else would he have 16 full-size wagon wheels welded to his fence? In the yard of his house at 20th Place and May, a menagerie of figurines sprouts from posts: a beaver, a gnome, an elf. Up on the roof a monkey shows its rear end to a mad bull held back by the lasso of a ranchero who looks like he once did duty as a bookend. Around the corner, a lineup of roosters faces out toward Dvorak Park like family crests.
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The neighbors’ bewilderment is no surprise, but over time Serrano has gained more respect than derision for his strange house. Some years ago area gangs used his garage as a message board, but that stopped after he painted the flags of Mexico and the U.S. on its door. For 15 years he’s been working on his house and the two houses just to the south–which he also owns–under the watchful eyes of his children. “Everything here has a weekend in it,” says Pablo, the oldest of Ernesto and Gerarda Serrano’s three sons. “And every weekend there was an element of surprise for the neighbors and for us: what is my dad doing today?”
Ernesto hadn’t had much formal education; he’d been pulled out of school in the third grade to help support his family in Saltillo, Mexico. But as an adult he taught himself how to build. He welded horseshoes to the fence (“he was so happy to find them,” Pablo recalls), connected a series of fountains in the yard, and constructed a spiral staircase to the patio out of wooden slats.
Ernesto was 33 when hard times in Mexico forced his move to the United States. Before Pablo was even born he’d crossed the Rio Grande seven times, secure in his mother’s belly. She and Ernesto were caught in the U.S. and returned to Mexico six times before their final and successful foray across the river and under the streets of El Paso. When they reached the designated spot under the right manhole they climbed a ladder to the street, where “coyotes” then transported them to Phoenix and put them on a plane for Chicago. Gerarda gave birth to Pablo three weeks later.
“Like drops of water the years came / And slowly broke down the strong rock / Today, the stone has eroded / Slowly and in tranquility it waits for its death.”
