Periódico El Heraldo de México. Editor Responsable: Alfredo González Castro, Número de Certificado de Reserva otorgado por el Instituto Nacional del Derecho de Autor: 04-2009-060419022100-101. Número de Certificado de Licitud de Título y Contenido: 16921. Domicilio de la Publicación: Av. Insurgentes Sur, No. 1271, piso 2, oficina 202, Extremadura Insurgentes, Benito Juárez, C.P. 03740. Impreso en LA CRÓNICA DIARIA, SA DE CV, Avenida Azcapotzalco La Villa 160, Colonia San Marcos, Alcaldía Azcapotzalco, Ciudad de México, CP 02020. Distribuidores: ARREDONDO E HIJOS DISTRIBUIDORA, SA de CV, Iturbide 18 local D, Colonia Centro de la Ciudad de México Área 4, Alcaldía Cuauhtémoc, Ciudad de México, CP 06040. ELIZABETH IVONNE GUTIÉRREZ ORTIZ, Callejón 2o de la Luz 52, Departamento 4, Interior 1, Colonia Anáhuac II Sección, Alcaldía Miguel Hidalgo, Ciudad de México, CP 11320. AEROVÍAS EMPRESA DE CARGO, SA de CV, Paseo de la Reforma 445, Piso 9, Colonia Cuauhtémoc, alcaldía Cuauhtémoc, Ciudad de México, CP 06000 Publicación Diaria No. 3062, lunes 03 de noviembre de 2025.
And on the birthday of the “Toro de Etchohuaquila,” the Dodgers got the crown.
BY: ANTONIO DE VALDÉS ART: JORGE PEÑALOZA
Baseball has a magical way of writing its best stories.
On November 1st, the day Fernando Valenzuela—the eternal Toro de Etchohuaquila— would have turned 65, the Los Angeles Dodgers were crowned World Series champions for the second consecutive year. Destiny once again threw a perfect game.
In a movie-like Game 7 held in Toronto, the Dodgers defeated the Blue Jays 5–4 in 11 innings, thanks to a home run by Will Smith that silenced Rogers Centre and unleashed a celebration that crossed generations. It was, without a doubt, one of the most thrilling World Series games I’ve ever seen—intense, dramatic, and filled with everything that makes this sport great. It was the perfect ending to a historic season and, above all, the most beautiful tribute baseball could offer to the greatest Mexican ever to step on a diamond.
The Los Angeles team once again proved to be a perfectly tuned machine. Though their batting power faltered at times, the pitchers from both teams performed at an exceptional level, delivering duels that kept the series alive until the very end. Yoshinobu Yamamoto was the star, earning the World Series MVP after dominating the mound with impressive calm and precision. At his side, Shohei Ohtani remained the heart of the team, while 23-year-old Roki Sasaki showed that the future is in good hands.
But beyond the Dodgers’ greatness, the Series had an unforget -
THE TRIBUTE TO CHAMPIONS AGAIN
table Mexican chapter. Alejandro Kirk, the Tijuana-born catcher for the Blue Jays, delivered a postseason for the ages. He hit home runs in Games 1 and 3 and became the catcher with the most homers in a single postseason in MLB history—with five—tying the record set by Sandy Alomar Jr. in 1997 and Cal Raleigh earlier this season.
Kirk’s performance was extraordinary. Behind the plate, he showed intelligence and composure; at bat, raw power and perfect timing. He became the first Mexican player ever to hit a home run in a World Series. He recorded eight hits in the Series and twenty-four throughout the postseason—both records for a Mexican-born player. Once considered a promising talent, he is now a symbol of strength and pride for an entire country.
And as the Dodgers celebrated on Canadian soil, something in the air made it clear this was no coincidence. On the very day he would have turned 65, Fernando Valenzuela’s spirit was present in every pitch, every cheer, every smile. The Toro, the greatest Mexican in baseball history, was the one who opened the path— who showed that a young man from Sonora could conquer Los Angeles and win the world’s heart with humility and talent.
This Dodgers–Blue Jays series will surely be remembered as one of the most exciting in baseball history: Shohei’s records, that miraculous catch under the center-field fence in Game 6, the superb pitching, and that marathon Game 2.
Baseball has both memory and destiny. November 1st, 2025, will forever be remembered: the Dodgers as back-to-back champions, Yamamoto as MVP, Kirk as historic, and Fernando Valenzuela as eternal.
See you next time!
THE DODGERS’ TO
EL TORO
The Dodgers became back-to-back World Series champions on what would have been Fernando Valenzuela’s 65th birthday.
Will Smith’s 11th-inning home run sealed a dramatic 5–4 victory over the Blue Jays in Toronto.
Yoshinobu Yamamoto was named World Series MVP for his dominant pitching.
Alejandro Kirk made history as the first Mexican to homer in a World Series and set postseason records for hits and home runs by a Mexican-born player.
The day felt like destiny fulfilled— honoring Valenzuela’s enduring legacy in baseball.
POWERFUL SYMBOLS AND IMAGES OF MEXICO
Interview with Edgar Clement *
Comics are a powerful form of literature that blend visual art and storytelling to mirror human emotions, fears, and aspirations. Through their characters and worlds, they capture the struggles, hopes, and moral dilemmas that define the human experience.
BY: DANIEL BENET
PHOTOART: DANTE ESCOBAR
D.B. I’d like to start, obviously, from the beginning — could you tell us what led you into the world of comics, illustration, and writing comics?
E.C. Well, by reading them; you read comics, you watch movies, you read books. One day there was a call for submissions in a magazine published by Paco Ignacio Taibo II called Bronca. They were running a comic contest, so I entered. The magazine disappeared, the contest never came to an end, but the idea stuck with me. I was left with the itch to make comics.
04/05 MONDAY
Later, I started working for newspapers. There, I tried to sneak comics in. At first, I tried to get some comic strips published in the cultural supplement of Excélsior, which was called El Búho. Then I collaborated with the comics section of La Jornada. Little by little, we realized there wasn’t really a space for independent comics. What existed was a comic industry — but it was the kind of “pop comic” that I didn’t like: the sensacionales, the Libro Vaquero, and all that stuff.
There I met a group of friends, and we decided to start our own magazine. After a lot of struggling, finally, in 1983, El Gallito Cómics magazine came out — and that’s when we started making comics. And from there, well, it all took off.
*EDGAR CLEMENT IS A RENOWNED MEXICAN COMIC ARTIST, BEST KNOWN FOR HIS ACCLAIMED WORKS SUCH AS OPERACIÓN BOLÍVAR, EL HOMBRE QUE SE CONVIRTIÓ EN TORO, QUERIDO
TIGRE
QUEZADA, AND LOS PERROS SALVAJES.
D.B. Thinking about the relationship between Mexico and the United States, what kind of influence did you have from American or Mexican comic artists in your work?
E.C. My influences — the four that I feel marked me — were Rius, of course, Luis Fernando, Fontanarrosa, and Dave McKean.
Now that I’m revisiting much of my work — for example, for my first major piece Operación Bolívar — I found a lot of influence from Bill Sienkiewicz’s Moby Dick, which is a small book. I really liked that current that both McKean and Sienkiewicz followed — the way they mixed elements. It attracted me because it combined visual art with drawing and more serious narratives. But yeah, I read Superman and everything else too. My influences are diverse in that sense. Actually, I’m named Edgar because my dad used to read Tarzan. So he named me Edgar, in honor of Edgar Rice Burroughs.
D.B. So, in a way, were you predestined for comics?
E.C. I think so. There was this funny argument between my parents; my mother made fun of my father, saying he wanted me to look like Tarzan. And my dad would say, “No, no, I want him to be like the one who created him — his name was Edgar.” But I like both ideas — that I might resemble Tarzan, and that I’m named after Edgar Rice Burroughs.
They worked in a factory, and the one who took care of me was my mother, because they wouldn’t let me hang around dangerous tools with the carpenters. So they left me with the seamstresses’ children, under the sewing machines — as if the motor of a sewing machine weren’t dangerous for a crawling toddler. But the thing about the seamstresses was that under their sewing machines they kept their grocery bags, and inside those bags, they had their comics — Libro Semanal, Lágrimas y Risas — so we’d sit there and read comics. I spent all my time reading comics. Now that I’m reviewing Operación Bolívar, this thing about taking Rius and mixing fiction with semi-documentary elements — about the hunts and everything — that, interestingly, comes to me from Melville and Moby Dick.
Anyone who’s read Moby Dick realizes that the story we know — about Moby Dick and Captain Ahab — is just a tiny fragment. The entire book is a detailed description of the whaling trade.I think that’s where some of the influence comes from. In general, I’ve been influenced by everything I’ve read — and what I’ve read has been both American and Mexican.
D.B. Now that you mention this remarkable comic, Operación Bolívar, it reflects a kind of syncretism — it feels like you’re tracing Mexico’s history through mythological figures like nahuales and angels, all the way up to the era of drug traffickers and CIA involvement in the country. It’s a really fascinating work that acknowledges this ongoing relationship Mexico has had with other nations. Tell us how Operación Bolívar came about.
E.C. The first idea was precisely that scene where a police officer is torturing an angel. Before that, I had a small comic strip where a detective was torturing a cupid. He claimed it was an angel — a cherub — and said he was looking for the cherub’s boss. So he was beating him up, but went too far, and the cherub died. I don’t know — it felt poetic to me. That kind of poetry within barbarity — a brutal cop trying to find God by torturing what he believes is a cherub, which is actually a mythological being that came on the ships of the Europeans to America — that whole tragicomic confusion helped me unravel the entire plot of Operación Bolívar. And to this day, I’m still writing things connected to it. There’s a publishing house called Pura Pinche Fortaleza Comics, run by some friends here in Mexico, and they’re going to publish the first volume of Los Perros Salvajes. I’m continuing with that thread — nahuales, guerrilla fighters, and tackling corruption. Showing how corruption intertwines with corruption in the United States, because they go hand in hand.
D.B. Now that you touch on this issue of the reality of the United States — not only toward Mexico but all of Latin America — and the interventions that the U.S. government has had in other countries of the region: there seems to be a big difference between American and Mexican comics. Mexican comics often try to reflect reality — not necessarily through heroic characters, but through works like those of Rius or La Familia Burrón. Meanwhile, in U.S. comics — Superman, Batman, Spider-Man — we often see morally pure characters, or at least ones facing very simple moral dilemmas between good and evil. Where do these two very different ways of telling stories and imagining reality come from in our two countries?
E.C. I think it comes from our religious roots. From the very start — since Luther decided to break away from the Church, or the Church broke away with Luther, whichever way you see it — all of Lutheranism and later the Protestant branches sought to strip away the corruption and dirtiness of the Vatican. They wanted to detach themselves from that and began rebuilding their societies based on the concepts of good and evil, with much more radical visions. Catholics, on the other hand, we’re more Mediterranean — we already have Arab roots, Iberian roots, Celtic roots. We’re a mixture of many races, so we have to reconcile many beliefs, and in that effort to reconcile them — to coexist, to trade — we can’t afford to see things only in black and white. But over there, they can. They do everything in black and white.It’s an ideal, basically — but the world isn’t like that. It isn’t black and white; it isn’t divided into good guys and bad guys. On the contrary, there are strong philosophical traditions — starting with Hegel’s dialectic — that clearly show us that there are no pure good or pure evil. That, in reality, as circumstances change,
humans adapt to them, behave accordingly, and sometimes reality pushes us to do things that contradict our beliefs or principles. That’s exactly the contradiction in which the United States now finds itself.
When you read history, you see how they reshape and distort their own narratives. Take Thanksgiving, for example — when the Puritans arrived, they were starving; there was even cannibalism because they had nothing to eat. The Native Americans helped them — gave them turkeys, food — they basically survived thanks to the Natives. And then they turned around and killed them to take their land. In Mexico, we’ve experienced that same dynamic. The Mexican Spaniard instilled anti-Indigenous ideas in the mestizo, so the mestizo collaborated with the Americans in exterminating Native peoples.All the cowboys were Mexican vaqueros — they brought Andalusian horsemanship to the U.S. and became the best workers for the white boss. And that’s where you also see Mexican arribismo — the aspirational mindset — where the white, light-eyed boss is seen as “the good one,” and the darker-skinned man is “the bad one.”
So, as you can see, it’s a breeding ground — a tangled web of contradictions — where we’re still, in a way, fighting the same ideological war that began in the 15th century.
D.B. Edgar, considering that the ways of conveying these worldviews include literature — and within that, comics — as you said earlier, you often had American comics in your hands. But Mexican creativity hasn’t reached the same visibility; it’s rare for someone abroad to hold a Mexican comic the way they hold an American one. You mentioned some collective publishing efforts. What do you think Mexican society lacks to promote creative projects that combine literature with the visual and graphic arts?
E.C. Well, there’s something important we haven’t realized — something the Americans did realize — and it’s called soft power. Mexico is actually very powerful in terms of soft power, but we’re not aware of it. Mexico has countless symbols, traditions, and powerful images — but we haven’t learned to use them. We haven’t understood that these are forms of power. The Americans did. When World War II ended, they immediately understood the role of propaganda.
D.B. It’s interesting that the tone of Mexican comics — the satire — breaks with the seriousness of American ones. It’s hard to be doctrinaire when you’re making fun of something, and Mexican comics have that — they carry mockery and self-criticism. E.C. Yes, it speaks to the Mexican spirit of disruption. Mexicans naturally identify with the troublemaker in class — the one who ruins the lesson for the teacher. And that’s fine, it’s fun — but at some point, you can’t build a counter-discourse or a collective project to move in a new direction if you’re always disrupting. You can’t build seriousness when you’re constantly undermining it.
In general, that’s what most Latin Americans do — we make fun of American paradigms or ideals. But that’s where it stops. We break them down — just to break them — but there’s no counterproposal afterward.
There’s no new proposal. Right now, for example, we have Trump — and yes, there are plenty of memes — but no serious counterproposal. No one’s saying, “Hey, instead of just laughing, how about we do something?” We never take that next step. And when someone tries to, they’re immediately demonized and shut down. That says a lot about our collective personality.
I believe that if a true Latin American discourse is ever going to emerge, it will come from within the United States.
Rius used comics for political satire and critique
BY: PATRICIA TEPOZTECO
ARTWORK: ALEJANDRO
OYERVIDES
The cemetery is filled with voices that laugh, cry, scream, and refuse to fade away. Faces of madness, surprise, and misfortune—all speak from their graves to tell the story of a country shaped by violence, migration, and forgetfulness.
In The Dead, French director Sébastien Lange transforms that murmur into a mirror that confronts us with our true selves: a society that hides behind memory and humor to cope with misfortune.
“The dead are the ones who tell the truth; they’re allowed to tell the truth because you can’t kill them twice,” says the director, who was born in Toulouse, France. And suppose there’s one place where talking about death carries weight. In that case, it’s Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua— a city once known as the most violent in the world and that, paradoxically, has just across the Rio Grande one of the safest cities in the United States: El Paso, Texas.
Talking about death in Juárez hurts. It is linked to desolation, femicide, and the forgetfulness that
I had to add humor to death, so it’s a cemetery that blends banality, absurdity, pure tragedy, and casual stories.’
A MIRROR OF THE SOCIETY
has scarred the country. That’s why the director doesn’t seek solemn drama. Still, instead of a mix of seriousness and humor—“a way to make life, and death, more bearable”—that encourages the audience to see themselves reflected and to face history with empathy, rawness, and understanding.
VOICES FROM THE CEMETERY
The Dead is designed as a scenic cemetery where 22 actors —nine from Juárez as the permanent cast and others as guest local talents — each perform two texts. Every guest actor writes their own monologues, following a structure that narrates life before, during, and after death. Among the most striking passages is Las Adelitas, a chorus that emphasizes the hidden role of women in Mexican history and adds a feminist tone to the play. It’s no coincidence that 65% of the cast are women. In Juárez, says the director, “women are more resilient.
The play returns to Ciudad Juárez on November 7 for a free performance at the Octavio Trías Experimental Theater.
To hear the stories of all the dead, you need to see the play four times.
Sébastien Lange directs the play for the Juárezbased company Telón de Arena, with dramaturgy by Guadalupe de la Mora and support from EFIARTES.
In The Dead, French Sébastien Lange a Juárez cemetery stage of memory, resistance. Through of the departed, reflects Mexico’s with violence, migration, the enduring will
SOCIETY WE LIVE IN
French director
Lange transforms cemetery into a memory, humor, and Through the voices departed, the play Mexico’s struggles migration, and will to live.
Sébastien Lange is also the author of I Saw Nothing in Ciudad Juárez (2024), a novel he describes as a perpetual work in progress and a road trip across the United States and Mexico.
Lange teaches theater at the Liceo Franco Mexicano and regularly collaborates with Native American artists at the Santa Fe Institute of Indian American Art.
They rehearse at night, work three jobs, and still go to the theater. They’re the ones who hold this city together.”
The play is not static—it evolves with each performance venue. During its tour across Africa, for example, Lange faced the challenge of discussing death openly because of local rituals and cosmogonies. Conversely, in Mexico—where death is both celebrated and feared—he discovered a fertile ground to develop a unique theatrical language: a poetics of mourning and resistance.
MIGRATION AND BORDERS: EXPLORING OTHERNESS
Migration weaves through the entire play—and through the director’s life. Lange considers himself a privileged migrant and aims to give voice to other stories: “The causes are terrible—war, poverty, climate change—but in the faces of migrants I always see hope and dignity. Concrete hope: the hope of
It’s a play where I don’t explicitly include political issues, although everything in a play is political. So yes, this is a political poetics.’
having a home, something on the table, a decent school. A normal life.”
In the staging, migration appears in three acts, and the border is part of its narrative—not only the geographic border but also the symbolic one that separates the living from the dead, Mexico from the United States, art from politics.
“The border vibrates. Life is in motion there. Juárez is a wild land, fertile for creation and otherness. Here, communities don’t lock themselves up—they blend. It’s a place of constant adaptation.”
On the border, theater resists, raises its voice, and calls for empathy. That’s why The Dead is also a play about the living, because their stories reflect life itself—and our debt to truth, memory, and justice.
BRINGING THE CEMETERY’S VOICE BEYOND THE BORDER
Sébastien Lange’s next move is to bring the play to the United States, particularly to El Paso and Las Cruces, where he aims to connect with Chicano and migrant communities. His goal, he says, is to keep listening to the dead and give them a voice in areas where silence still dominates.
In Mexico, horror thrives on guilt and the tradition of the “Mexican macho.” Maybe that’s why La Llorona remains our most potent and enduring figure: she is the mother who made her life revolve around a man, the mother dedicated to romantic love who, after being abandoned, murdered her children. She represents rage and sorrow—and, of course, her punishment was not for the man who left his family, but for the woman who was hurt and crushed by an entire system. And what was her punishment? To roam among the living.
4
3
In The Exorcist, Carrie, The Witch, and others, the female body becomes the territory of the supernatural—a body where desire, puberty, or motherhood are punished.
2
Meanwhile, in the northern region of the continent, American cinema from the twentieth and twentyfirst centuries grew obsessed with another type of story: possession.
1
This story makes us fear female emotionality, the woman who screams in pain, whose grief and anger become visible. The woman who breaks free from the chains of goodness and “rationality.”
FROM LA LLORONA TO THE EXORCIST, HORROR ON BOTH SIDES OF THE BORDER EXPOSES SOCIETY’S FEAR OF WOMEN’S POWER. MEXICAN AND AMERICAN STORIES ALIKE TURN THE FEMALE BODY INTO A BATTLEGROUND OF GUILT, DESIRE, AND RESISTANCE— WHERE WOMEN ARE FINALLY RECLAIMING THE NARRATIVE.
American horror culture encourages us to purify the female body, to fear it because it is the body that tempts—mysterious and full of impulses that must be suppressed. And what is the remedy? To cleanse it through Judeo-Christian religions—or, in the worst cases, through death or exile.
IN THE HORROR OF MEXICO AND THE
The teenage girl is dangerous and innocent, vulnerable.
Both Mexican and American horrors share a common origin: fear of the feminine as something uncontrollable. Behind the screams, tears, or demons lies the story of a society conditioned to fear women’s power.
Now, echoes of women raising their voices can be heard within horror. They are no longer victims or objects but the authors of these stories, reclaiming horror to critique and portray the world they live in and observe—not a world experienced only through the male gaze, through narratives that have made us believe that La Llorona is scarier than walking alone down the street on a day when a man decides that your body and your life belong to him, for his consumption. Because those should be the true figures of horror—here and beyond the border.
The Mexican woman, who demands justice and denounces abandonment; the American woman, who is curious and freely pursues her desires—both are punished, possessed, or destroyed to restore “order.”
7
Horror is not just a genre that makes us jump or scream in fear; it is the genre capable of beautifying reality because the horrors that surround us far exceed those we consume on screens or in books.
8
Today, horror serves as both a reflection and a view into reality—a space for resistance, analysis, and protest.
9
WOMEN
HORROR THE UNITED STATES
All those legends and stories invite us to reflect on the persistent gender inequality that has existed throughout history and in our present because horror persists and exists — from the burning of witches in Salem to the murdered women of Juárez.
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BY: SVEIRY ALATORRE
ARTWORK: DANTE ESCOBAR
Horror reveals our greatest fears… but also, who we are. It is a conscious and unconscious reflection of both the individual and society. For example, on every cobblestone street or canal in Mexico, there has always been a woman in white who cries. Meanwhile, in countless houses across the United States, a girl or woman is possessed by a demon. What do they have in common? The woman symbolizes danger, desire, or punishment.
FILM SCREENINGS
Each year there are special themes; in 2024, the theme “Tonas and Nahuales” honored the spiritual guardians of ancient Mesoamerican indigenous cultures.
Hollywood Forever is the final resting place of more than 500 celebrities, from Judy Garland to Chris Cornell, making it the most famous cemetery in Los Angeles.
Max Wagner was a famous MexicanAmerican actor, known for roles as mobsters, in more than 270 Hollywood films during the 1930s-1960s.
Located in the heart of Los Angeles, the Hollywood Forever Cemetery transforms mourning into a lively celebration of life.
HOW LOS ANGELES EMBRACES
LOS MUERTOS AT HOLLYWOOD CITY OF SOULS
CULTURAL EVENTS
Beyond Día de los Muertos, Hollywood Forever hosts year-round events celebrating art and heritage. The annual festival has become the most iconic, featuring costumed attendees, altars, food vendors, and local crafts—serving as a lively reminder that remembrance can also be an act of joy.
EXPLORE HOLLYWOOD LORE AND LEGACY
BY: TYLER CASSITY*
MONDAY / 11 / 03 / 2025
10-11
Its annual Día de los Muertos draws tens of thousands of visitors who come not only to honor the departed but also to experience a unique cultural celebration. Every fall, Los Angeles’ spirit aligns with Mexico’s lively tradition. At Hollywood Forever Cemetery, nearly 30,000 people gather each year to celebrate Día de los Muertos, turning a space of mourning into one of community, remembrance, and vitality.
is expressed in an almost cinematic way. The festival begins with an Aztec procession and continues with music, dance, and art exhibits celebrating Mexican and Central American heritage. A children’s plaza and food stalls line the walkways, filling the air with the scent of tamales and pan de muerto. Dozens of artists create over 100 altars across the cemetery, each serving as a heartfelt tribute: jewelry, photos, a cigar box, or a favorite bottle of tequila become symbols of love that span generations.
The cemetery—125 years old and home to legends like Rudolph Valentino, Judy Garland, and Cecil B. DeMille—becomes unrecognizable for one day and night. Marigold petals cover the walkways; hundreds of candles flicker next to ornate altars; the scent of copal rises in the air. Children and adults arrive with painted skull faces, dressed as calacas and catrinas, moving among mausoleums that glow with offerings, photos, and food for the departed.
What started as a small gathering I organized in 2000 with Mexican cultural advocate Daisy Márquez has become one of the biggest Día de los Muertos celebrations in the United States.
Every element holds significance—marigolds (cempasúchil) guide spirits home, candles light their way, and stories shared on stage and in song keep memory alive. What started as a grassroots celebration has developed into a cultural tradition, supported by the very community that once found comfort among our graves during pandemic years.
On Saturday, November 1, 2025, Hollywood Forever will welcome families, friends, and neighbors back to its sacred grounds for the 26th anniversary of its Día de los Muertos celebration. What began a quarter century ago as a heartfelt offering has grown into one of Los Angeles’ most cherished cultural traditions — embraced and maintained by the predominantly Latino community. In honor of these Latino traditions, we will be screening Disney-Pixar’s Coco.
As night falls, the entire cemetery comes alive with color and sound. The glow from hundreds of candles reflects off the marble tombs, the soft music of mariachi blends with electronic beats, and somewhere between laughter and tears, the line between the living and the dead seems to fade. It’s this mix—of reverence and celebration—that makes the cemetery event unlike any other in the world.
We organize the event not just as a festival but as an educational experience. Throughout the day, workshops teach visitors how to make papel picado, create sugar skulls, or design mini altars. My longtime collaborator Celine Mares and I often say that remembrance is not about sorrow — it’s about gratitude. When you build an altar with your own hands, you understand that truth.
REINVENTING A RESTING PLACE
Beyond the spectacle, the celebration acts as a bridge between cultures—helping the Latino community in Los Angeles reconnect with its roots while also inviting others to appreciate the tradition’s significance. Our vision has always been to create a space where the living and the dead can coexist.
Hollywood Forever is more than just a cemetery—it serves as a vibrant landmark. Since my brother Brent and I bought the neglected grounds in 1998 and renamed them, we’ve turned the site into a cultural hub that blends history, technology, and art. In 2022, it was officially recognized as a Historic-Cultural Monument by the City of Los Angeles.
DÍA DE
In a city known for ongoing reinvention, the quiet preservation of this Mexican tradition highlights cultural resilience. Families who have lived in Los Angeles for generations come together to honor their ancestors and the enduring sense of identity that crosses borders and decades. For many immigrants, setting up an altar on Hollywood soil feels like reclaiming a piece of home — a way to belong twice, on both sides of the border. There is an annual altar contest with prizes of $5,000 for first place, $2,000 for second, and $1,000 for third.
The cemetery’s newest feature, the five-story Gower Mausoleum, designed by Lehrer Architects, redefines urban architecture for the afterlife. Featuring polished marble, natural light, and sweeping views of the Hollywood skyline, it offers 13,000 new crypts stacked vertically—an efficient way to maximize the limited space in the city.
The festival’s emotional meaning is what keeps people coming back year after year. Parents bring their children to paint sugar skulls, musicians play son jarocho under the palm trees, and visitors of all backgrounds stop to read the names on the altars. The visual appeal might draw the crowds, but the quiet moments—someone lighting a candle, whispering a prayer—are what give the event its soul.
The design aims to be both functional and emotional. Architect Michael Lehrer and I wanted to create something beautiful—a space where people come to mourn but also to find peace. Inside, sunlight filters through glass panels, illuminating the corridors where generations of Angelenos will rest together—actors, immigrants, and locals alike. In a city obsessed with fresh starts, Hollywood Forever provides something rare: the dignity of permanence.
* THE AUTHOR STUDIED LITERATURE AND CREATIVE WRITING AT COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, AND HE IS THE PRESIDENT OF HOLLYWOOD FOREVER CEMETERY
FOREVER SOULS
THE MEANING BEHIND THE MARIGOLDS
Rooted in Indigenous beliefs that the souls of the departed return each November 1 and 2 to visit their loved ones, Día de los Muertos is both solemn and joyful. It celebrates death as a natural part of life. At Hollywood Forever, that philosophy
Even as we grow upward, we stay deeply connected to our community. Our events—from yoga sessions to memorial concerts—continue to attract Angelenos who find not just peace but also a sense of belonging in this place.
Accessible, reflective, and filled with stories, Hollywood Forever continues to embody what Día de los Muertos represents: the idea that death is not an end, but a different form of belonging.
/ 11 / 03 / 2025
l Born in El Paso, Texas, into a legendary Mexican wrestling family, Eddie Guerrero grew up surrounded by the bright lights of the ring. His charisma and unmatched technical style took him from Ciudad Juárez’s arenas to the biggest stages in the U.S.—ECW, WCW, and eventually the WWE. Known as “Latino Heat,” Guerrero’s energy and humor made him a fan favorite, even as a villain. He won multiple world titles and proved that Mexican wrestlers could shine in America’s power-driven wrestling scene. His sudden death in 2005 left a lasting void, but his influence continues to define modern lucha libre and professional wrestling.
Eddie Guerrero PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER
1967–2005
From the wrestling ring to the baseball diamond, and from the boxing arena to the tennis court, Mexican athletes have conquered hearts and records across borders.
l Born in Guadalajara to an American father and Mexican mother, Tom Fears became a pioneer in American football. After playing for the University of California and serving in the military, he joined the Los Angeles Rams in 1948, quickly standing out for his precision and intelligence on the field. As the first Mexican to play in the NFL, he led the league in receptions for three consecutive seasons and set records that stood for decades. Inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 1970, Fears opened the way for Latino players in a sport once considered unreachable for them.
Tom Fears
WIDE RECEIVER 1922–2000
l
In
From the courts of Puebla to the Wimbledon, Yolanda Ramírez became greatest tennis player. She started 10 and soon proved her exceptional peting internationally without sponsorships.
1958, she and Rosa María Reyes Roland Garros doubles title—the first duo to do so. She later captured medals at the 1959 Pan American Games earned global recognition, joining gious “Last Eight Club” at Wimbledon. 34 Grand Slam titles to her name, barriers for women in sports and generations with her elegance and
the grass of became Mexico’s playing at skill, comsponsorships. Reyes won the first Mexican captured two gold Games and the prestiWimbledon. With name, she broke and inspired resilience.
Yolanda
1935–2025
l Few careers burned as brightly—and briefly—as Salvador Sánchez’s. Born in Santiago Tianguistenco, he began boxing at the age of 13 and turned professional at 16, quickly dominating the featherweight division. His explosive speed and precision made him a world champion with 44 wins and only one loss. His iconic 1981 victory over Puerto Rican legend Wilfredo Gómez in Las Vegas sealed his place in boxing history. Sánchez died tragically at just 23, but his impact lives on. For many, he remains one of the most gifted fighters ever to step into a ring.
Salvador “Sal” Sánchez
BOXER
1959–1982
MONDAY / 11 / 03 / 2025
l Fernando Valenzuela redefined what it meant to be a Latino sports hero. Born in Sonora, he mastered the screwball—a pitch so unpredictable it baffled the best hitters in Major League Baseball. In 1981, his rookie season with the Los Angeles Dodgers, Valenzuela won the World Series, the Cy Young Award, and the Rookie of the Year Award. This unmatched triple crown sparked “Fernandomania” across the Americas. Beyond the mound, he became a cultural icon, breaking barriers of language and race. When the Dodgers retired his number 34 in 2023, it was more than a tribute—it was recognition of a legend who changed the game forever.
Fernando “El Toro” Valenzuela
1960–2024
BY: DIEGO CARREÑO
ARTWORK: ALEJANDRO OYERVIDES
From the wrestling ring to the baseball diamond, and from the boxing arena to the tennis court, Mexican athletes have crossed borders and languages, conquering audiences with talent, determination, and heart. Their stories speak not only of victory but of perseverance—the kind that inspires those who dare to dream beyond their hometowns. Throughout history, Mexico has produced figures who transformed global sports culture. They opened doors for new generations, broke stereotypes, and became symbols of pride both at home and abroad. These are five names whose legacies continue to echo far beyond their time.
MEXICO WORLD CHANGED SPORTS FOREVER
TRADITIONAL FOODS
• For the Day of the Dead, typical foods include pan de muerto (sweet bread), tamales, mole poblano, atole, sugar skulls, and candied pumpkin. Each dish holds spiritual meaning: the bread represents the life–death cycle, while mole and atole symbolize hospitality and family unity. Halloween foods, meanwhile, include candies, popcorn, pumpkin pie, caramel apples, and warm drinks like apple cider or hot chocolate, all linked to the autumn harvest season.
Día de Muertos & Halloween
• The Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead) has its roots in ancient Mesoamerican cultures, especially among the Mexica, Maya, Purépecha, and Totonac peoples, who honored their ancestors and viewed death as a natural part of life’s cycle. These civilizations believed that souls returned to the world of the living on certain dates to briefly reunite with their families. When the Spanish arrived in the 16th century, indigenous festivities blended with Catholic traditions such as All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day, resulting in a syncretic celebration that endures today. In 2003, UNESCO declared Día de Muertos an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, recognizing its deep symbolic and spiritual importance for Mexican identity.
MODERN TRADITIONS OF THE DAY OF THE DEAD
• In Mexico, the Day of the Dead is celebrated mainly on November 1st and 2nd, each day carrying its own meaning: the first is dedicated to deceased children (Día de Todos Santos) and the second to adults. Families build altars or ofrendas decorated with cempasúchil, candles, sugar skulls, papel picado (cut paper), food, and personal items of the deceased. In many towns, people visit cemeteries to clean graves, leave flowers, and spend the night honoring their loved ones. In places like Pátzcuaro, Oaxaca, and Mixquic, the celebration takes on a communal and even touristic character. The colors, aromas, and music make this festivity a vibrant expression of love and remembrance.
“Macario” (1960) –Directed by Roberto Gavaldón and based on B. Traven’s story, this classic Mexican film delves into death, faith, and social inequality through the tale of a peasant who shares a meal with Death itself.
“La Llorona” – A traditional Mexican folk song that is usually performed during the Day of the Dead celebrations, evoking themes of loss, grief and love beyond death, a classic that is always present in the festivities.
BY DANIEL
FOR BOTH MEXICO THE UNITED DÍA DE MUERTOS AND HALLOWEEN STAND AMONG MOST CHERISHED AND ENDURING TRADITIONS. IN ANCIENT THESE CELEBRATIONS HAVE EVOLVED CENTURIES—OFTEN INFLUENCING ANOTHER BORDERS. LET’S THEIR ORIGINS, AND THE WAYS MIRROR AND FROM EACH
by
– A fundamental work of Mexican literature that blurs the line between the living and the dead, echoing the spiritual tone of the Day of the Dead. It is an essential reference.
ILUSTRATION:
ALEJANDRO
ORIGINS OF DÍA DE MUERTOS
“Pedro Páramo”
Juan Rulfo (1955)
Muertos Halloween
ORIGINS OF HALLOWEEN
MEXICO AND UNITED STATES, MUERTOS HALLOWEEN AMONG THE CHERISHED ENDURING TRADITIONS. ROOTED ANCIENT BELIEFS, CELEBRATIONS EVOLVED OVER CENTURIES—OFTEN INFLUENCING ONE ANOTHER ACROSS LET’S EXPLORE ORIGINS, MEANINGS, WAYS THEY AND DIVERGE EACH OTHER. DANIEL
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EEN 14/ 15
MONDAY / 11 / 03 / 2025 HERALDOUSA.COM/
“Halloween” (1978)
– John Carpenter’s horror classic that defined the slasher genre in the West and shaped Halloween pop culture. It is estimated to have grossed $70 million. Many people dress up as Michael Myers every year.
“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving (1820) – An American Gothic tale featuring the Headless Horseman, one of the most enduring symbols of Halloween, another classic that represents the essence of this day. Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” (1982) – The iconic song and music video that transformed Halloween imagery— monsters, zombies, and dancing—into a global pop culture phenomenon. It’s the perfect blend of horror and pop culture.
• Halloween, on the other hand, traces its origins to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, celebrated in Ireland and Scotland more than two thousand years ago. The Celts believed that on the night of October 31, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead blurred, allowing spirits to return to Earth. With the spread of Christianity, the Catholic Church transformed this festival into All Hallows’ Eve, the night before All Saints’ Day — which over time was shortened to Halloween. When European immigrants, especially the Irish, arrived in the United States during the 19th century, they brought their customs with them. In the U.S., these merged with local traditions, eventually creating a secular, commercial holiday centered on costumes, candy, and community activities.
MODERN TRADITIONS OF HALLOWEEN
• Halloween, by contrast, is characterized by a more playful and commercial tone. Children and adults dress up as monsters, fantasy characters, or pop culture icons and walk through neighborhoods asking for candy with the phrase “trick or treat.” Homes are decorated with carved pumpkins (jack-o’-lanterns), spider webs, orange lights, and spooky figures. People host costume parties, haunted house tours, and horror film screenings. While it retains symbolic traces of its ancient origins, Halloween has evolved into a massive entertainment and consumer event generating billions of dollars annually.
CULTURAL EXCHANGE AND CROSS-CELEBRATION
• Through cultural exchange, both celebrations have influenced one another. In Mexico — especially in urban and border areas — Halloween is celebrated with parties, costumes, and school parades, sparking debates about cultural loss. However, many Mexicans now combine both dates, celebrating Halloween on October 31 and the Day of the Dead in the following days. In the United States, the Day of the Dead has gained visibility thanks to the growing Mexican and Latino population. Cities like Los Angeles, Chicago, and San Antonio hold large public parades and community altars.
