Support for the family of a slain mother and child eclipses neighborhood jitters in a Mexican community.
By ADRIENNE P. SAMUELS
Published July 27, 2003
[Times photos:Kathleen Flynn]
A child's pants still hang on a clotheslline Friday behind the house where Petra Martin Corona, 31, and her son Uriel, 2, were stabbed to death on July 19.
Nicki Baker, 24, says she has a young child and has decided to move from her rental house in the Clearwater neightborhood when her lease is up.
A collection box seeks help for Petra Corona's family at Mexico Lindo, a restaurant and grocery store on Court Street.
Tape seals the door at the home where Martin and her son were stabbed to death.
CLEARWATER - Acollection of toy cars and a pair of toddler's shorts still lie in front of the house where Petra Martin Corona and her 2-year-old son were killed more than a week ago.
Dusty windows blur the brownish-yellow of three bananas rotting on the kitchen counter.
The lights are still on; the ceiling fans turn, and a pair of tiny pants hang on a line out back.
Neighbors walk back and forth, furtively glancing at the small, white house.
They all whisper the same thing.
Why would someone kill a little baby? Why would they kill his mother? Will it happen again?
The people who live near the corner of San Remo Avenue and San Juan Street say they didn't know Martin well. That they've only seen her buying bread or playing with her children.
But not knowing her doesn't stop them from doing their duty when it comes to honoring the dead.
For many, that means dropping $10 or $20 into donation boxes slowly popping up in Mexican restaurants and money-wiring businesses across Tampa Bay. The money is taken up anonymously to help pay for a number of things: to feed Martin's remaining child, to help send her body back to Mexico, to send her baby's body back to Mexico and to give financial help to her family.
"The Mexican people, we help each other," said Federico Perez, 21, who is from Mexico City but lives two blocks from where Martin was killed. "You see the boxes in the restaurants and stores. Of course I'll help. I'll help because maybe I too might need help later."
A picture of Martin and her son, Uriel, adorn the sides of the wrapped shoe boxes. One sits in Don Pancho Villa, a Mexican store and restaurant on Drew Street near U.S. 19.
A short, handwritten message appears on the box's side.
It reads: "Nesecita ayuda economica para la Sra. Petra Martinez y su hijo Uriel que desgraciadamente fueron asesinado en su casa el sabado 19 de julio en Clearwater, Fl para mandarlos a Portezuela Tasquillo, Hidalgo, MX."
In other words, financial help is needed for Petra Martinez and her son, Uriel, who were unfortunately assassinated in their house on Saturday, July 19 in Clearwater, Fla. Send help for them to Portezuela-Tasquillo, in Hidalgo, Mexico.
The boxes are filling up.
The donations will go to Martin's family in Tasquillo, an area within Hidalgo, a state in southeast Mexico. Clearwater has become home to an unofficially estimated 25,000 Mexicans, 90 percent of whom come from that state. The majority call themselves Hidalguenses.
They don't all know each other, but they stick together in times of trouble.
It's that time again.
Martin and her son were stabbed to death. Police think the killer used a knife. As of Friday, they were still seeking clues and a suspect. Meanwhile, Martin's other child, an 8-month old girl, is in the custody of her father, Isidro Perez, police said. Perez is not the father of the child who died.
Martin lived with Perez and two other men. All three men were questioned by police.
The Hidalgan community is tight. Many of them are an indigenous people whose first language is HnaHnu, not Spanish. For them, it's important to be buried at home.
"There's no peace for the soul unless you are buried in the country where you're from," said Clearwater Hispanic Outreach Officer William Farias, one of several officers working on the homicide cases. Farias is not of Mexican descent, but he speaks fluent Spanish and is helping detectives with the homicide case. Many of the people being interviewed regarding the case speak very little English.
Martin's two brothers - Domingo and Francisco - came from Orlando to Clearwater last week to view the body and talk to police. They also called in to Radio Lobo, a Spanish radio show on 1340 AM. On Friday night, Domingo Martin told disc jockey Victor Ramirez that his sister lived in the United States for four years and that nine other siblings are living in Mexico City.
The family needs $5,000 to cover the cost of shipping the bodies back to Mexico City, Ramirez said.
"He told me they were going back to Mexico for good, that they are not coming back," Ramirez said.
Late Friday night, Domingo Martin was staying with a friend in Clearwater. He was so sad that he couldn't talk.
"I have no words," Martin said.
A government-run victim's fund might take care of most of the transportation expenses, according to Clearwater officials. The family will have to take care of the actual burials. It's not uncommon for the local Mexican community to raise up to $10,000 in three days, if need be.
The boxes that adorn cashiers' counters across the bay will be collected by friends of the family. The money will go to Mexico. No one is afraid it will be stolen, because everyone shares the pain.
"They understand the importance of being taken home," said Farias.
People stopped and read the donation box on Friday night in the Mexico Lindo restaurant and grocery store on Court Street. In went $5, $10.
"One day she (Petra) came in here," said Sandra Turrebiatesolis, who works at Mexico Lindo. "She was here the last week. This is big news, especially because of the little boy. You can hardly believe it."
Petra Martin - police have identified her as Petra Martinez, but her family knows her as Petra Martin Corona - was a serious woman, not given to outbursts of laughter, said Ramirez, the disc jockey. Last year, he worked with Martin at Los Amigos, a local restaurant that is now closed. Martin made tortillas, he said.
"The baby, he was very nice," said Ramirez. "He was serious like his mother. He was very quiet."
It will be a long while before life gets back to normal in the community.
"Sometimes I forgot to lock my doors, but from now on I'll lock," said Angel Hernandez, 24, who lives four houses down from the crime scene. Hernandez sat outside with his 4-year-old daughter, Veronica, and three friends after work on Thursday.
"We keep the doors shut because we have two little kids, a 4-year-old and a 5-year-old. And it's so close, that house."
Across from the Hernandezes' lives the Rosal family.
"We can't open the door, and we have to look out the window," said Jenny Rosal, 40, originally from Venezuela. Thursday morning, she sat at home with her husband, Ramon, and their 2-year-old son, Ryan.
"We were here that afternoon," Rosal said. "We didn't hear anything. It's so weird. We moved here because my mother said it was safe here."
News of the slayings took the neighborhood mail carrier aback.
"Sometimes I'd speak to them in Spanish," said Vino Ignacio, who often delivered Express Mail packages to the Martin residence. "I'd stroke the little boy's head. He would come to the mail truck."
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the day of the slayings, Ignacio said.
Four blocks over, on Pierce Street, Alfonzo Perez and his two friends sat out back and talked about the case.
"It tore the heart to see they killed the little baby, the son," said Perez, 26, originally from Hidalgo. "It's not normal to do that to a child. A lot of people move here for a more comfortable life. It's been a long time since something has happened like this.
"A lot of people are scared to stand outside with their children."
Raymond Durazno, 22, nodded in agreement.
"Before this happened, something was stolen from my house," Durazno said. "I don't trust anymore."
Farias, with the Police Department, said that people aren't shaking in fear. They are exercising more caution.
This isn't the first time a murder shook the local Mexican community.
Cesar Perez-Hernandez, 20, a victim of road rage, was shot and killed on May 4, 2000. Perez-Hernandez's killer, Christopher Edward Harris, was sentenced to two consecutive life terms in June 2002.
The community came together in 2000 to help return Perez-Hernandez to Mexico, said Robin Gomez, a Clearwater city auditor who, incidentally, hails from Hidalgo.
"That's the unity of the community," said Gomez. "When there is something like that, they do get together and help."
Adrienne Samuels can be reached at 445-4157 or samuels@sptimes.com Reporter Kathleen Flynn contributed to this report. [Last modified July 27, 2003, 07:42:58]
