LIMON'S DEATH MARKS THE END OF MARKET SQUARE ERA

By Juan Montoya
He wasn't a politician or even a man of wealth.
But Julian Salazar Limon, who for years ran a Market Square bar that later moved to Adams Street – and also a downtown restaurant on Levee – was a working man's bartender.

He was 76.

About four days ago, as he went about tending to his businesses, he suffered a paralyzing stroke that killed him on Sunday later while he was at the Valley Baptist Medical Center.

 Garza Memorial Funeral Home of Brownsville is in charge of arrangements.
Limon ran La Movida, a bar which catered to downtown residents and patrons and those with a taste for a simple bar where one could have a beer and trade the local gossip. He was one of the last old-time congaleros who catered to the lowest rung of customers. His clientele did not hang around places like Chili's or the Toucan. Rather, they were those people who depended on their retirement checks or blue-collar jobs to carry them over to the beginning of the month.

Some, from Olmito and San Pedro and the Southmost and Las Prietas barrios, congregated there to gab and drink as they watched the pedestrians pass on the sidewalk outside.

Still, Limon eked out a living and provided work for the women who helped him out in his downtown businesses. He was always on the move fussing about this or the other. A woman who had worked for him tending bar when La Movida was on Market Square remembered him as a good employer who cared for his workers.

"I was put in jail one time for about two months after I got in a dispute with my ex and Limon was the only one who sent money to me so I could buy things from the jail commissary," she said after she heard he had died at the hospital. "He always asked about my kids and how I was doing. He was a nice man."

Limon often befriended the down and out and destitute people who hung out about his bar and his restaurant. On more than on occasion he would often put a few dollars in their hand when their check didn't carry them over to the end of the month. His La Movida cantina was often the meeting place for old-time Brownsville residents who would often sit through the day remembering how the city used to be in the old days and friends who had since passed away.

"Eso era cuando la Marqueta era la Marqueta," remembered one.

"He was the friend of people who would otherwise have no place to go and rest over a Natural beer listening to old corridos on the jukebox that still gave you four songs for a dollar," remembered another. "It was kind of funny because the back of the bar was across the alley from the Immaculate Conception Cathedral. "

Two days ago, his widow and his children placed a black wreath on the door of La Movida informing his clients that Julian Limon had passed away. It is doubtful that the family will continue running the business. So in a sense, the passing away of Limon marks an end of a Market Square era.

R.I.P. Julian.