Recuerda (And Celebrate Life) Muerte

Castillo's "Tio Teo" was a master electrician, a well-known car salesman and a political activist in San Antonio who helped write the platform for the Raza Unida party in the early 1970s. He was also a hell of a pool player. His nephew's altar to Jose Castillo includes some of his electricians' tools, a copy of the Raza Unida platform and a roll of electrical wire fashioned into a wreath and a crucifix, along with an old tool belt, a pool cue and three balls and recent picture of Jose Castillo's seven daughters and one son.

Raul Castillo speaks lovingly of his uncle, recalling how Jose Castillo encouraged him to get his college degree and the times they had together when Raul, after graduating, lived with his uncle's family.

"He was my age when he died -- I'm 47," he says, "and I got to thinking that I've come this far, and I hope somehow that I've impacted somebody else's life, the way he impacted mine."

Irene Garza Estrada built an ofrenda to the grandparents who raised her after being encouraged to do so by Agapito Sanchez, whose black-and-white photographs are often displayed at Casa Ramirez. Garza won an essay contest on "Celebrating Our Hispanic Elders" this year at the University of Houston, and Sanchez had taken the photographs that accompanied an exhibit on the contest.

"I thoroughly enjoyed doing this," says Garza, 35, who's the assistant to the director of operations at Landmark Graphics. "It's a great way of keeping your memories. People tend to forget about their loved ones who've passed away. As far as I'm concerned, they're still with us."

Last year, Ramirez offered one of the gallery's ofrenda slots to photographer Sanchez, who lost his adored sister Sandy to cancer 11 years ago but had never come to terms with her death.

"I thought I was over Sandy's death, but I didn't realize how emotional it still was for me," says Sanchez, who was so overcome by memories that he was unable to complete his ofrenda. "I had been building altars for her at home for five years. But when I did one there in public, the emotions just came rushing back all too fast."

Like so many other 30ish and 40ish Hispanics in the city, Sanchez was raised ignorant of most of the cultural traditions that are his birthright. His immigrant parents were so busy striving to get ahead and assimilate themselves and their children that "culture kind of went to the side," Sanchez recalls.

"But as I get older," he says, "I'm looking deeper into my roots and my culture. And I find that it's been there all along. I'm sorry I missed out on it.