Rachel Baltazar had been working at Ruler Foods on South Grand Boulevard across from Tower Grove Park for some time before she met the love of her life.
In the spring of 2016, Juan Baltazar stepped inside the grocery store and asked Rachel when employees would put out new tomatoes. He came back a few days later looking for them and other items. He then asked her about a plant and how to take care of it. It was his way of flirting and trying to find out how to ask Rachel on a date.
“Then one day after that, he just asked me, ‘When can he cook dinner for me?’ and I said, ‘Whenever you're ready,’” Rachel said at her south St. Louis home, smiling from ear to ear.
Juan cooked for her, and months later, he proposed to her inside Ruler Foods. They married in February 2017. Rachel said her union with Juan was full of excitement and fun, but it also had its trying times. However, she did not think that the morning of May 16, 2025, would be the last time she saw or spoke to her husband.
“I got up, got ready, someone helped with the kids before I had to leave, and then I just said I'm gone and went to work,” she said. “When I got back home from work, he was gone.”
During the storm, Juan was leaving Lowe’s Home Improvement store off Loughborough Avenue and driving through Carondelet Park when a large tree fell on the front window pane of his blue pickup truck. He died within minutes of the accident.
“I rushed right over there, and the officer stopped me and said ‘We need to talk,’” Rachel said. “I asked him if he was gone, and he said, ‘Yeah,’ and I couldn't move and I got all shaky.”
She said it took about two hours for emergency crews to remove the tree from his truck with cranes. While watching crews use saws to cut down the tree and finally remove his body, she said all she could think about was her children and how she was going to tell them what happened to their dad.
“When he smiled, it would be like his little cheekbones would pop up, and it would be like the light would just hit his cheekbones and light him up, like the sun was shining on his face, even if he was inside,” Rachel said.
Juan was born on Jan. 1, 1977, in Piedras Negras, Mexico. He had been in the country for over 20 years. Besides his wife, Juan leaves behind his seven children, four siblings and his mother.
Although Juan was a calm guy who loved to sit at home and watch television or go fishing with his family at campsites, most people in the community knew him as the guy who sold corn.
“They loved it. It was delicious. Best they ever had,” Rachel said. “He was excited about doing the corn, getting it going, and he started talking about trying to do a second one and actually having employees to run another one.”
Juan became licensed to start El Mandilón, a street corn food truck, two years ago. He served wood-roasted corn on the cob or loose corn with many toppings to choose from. Juan learned how to cook from his dad in Mexico. He enjoyed cooking Mexican cuisine for his family and friends.
Rachel’s favorite foods that Juan cooked were chicken tinga, picadillo, chilaquiles and his fresh pot of beans. However, over the past few weeks since his death, Juan’s mother, Juana Gonzalez, has been doing most of the cooking for the family. Rachel said she is cooking daily to distract her from thinking about his death.
“He talked to me all the time, at all hours,” Gonzalez said in Spanish while in tears. “Now, every morning I say to him, ‘Son, I'm waiting for your call. Call me, son.’”
When Gonzalez heard the news about her son’s death, she hopped on a bus from Piedras Negras and came straight to St. Louis to be with Rachel and her children. She is heartbroken by his death and said she wishes the painful feeling of losing her son would pass.
“For me, it's torture. He was very cheerful. Everyone loved him here and there,” Gonzalez said. “They're all upset because they don't believe it. They say it's a dream, but unfortunately, it's not a dream. It's a reality that hurts me.”
Gonzalez is also upset that some of her family members, including Juan’s siblings and his adult children, may not be able to attend the funeral on Sunday, because Mexican Border Patrol officers will not pass along their humanitarian visa paperwork to the American consulate.
“When you go in, you give them (border patrol) your papers and you pay … they would look at your paperwork … and they would say yes or no, if you can cross to the other side,” Rachel said. “They've gone twice now … they won't even let them get to the office to turn in the paperwork.”
His siblings and children have never been to the United States, but Rachel said they plan to keep going to the border until Thursday to try to get a visa to attend the funeral services. However, Rachel said it saddens her because she knows that he loved his family and would want them to be here to celebrate his homegoing.
“It’s just hard because I can't help them to see him. We have to cremate him because it's so expensive to bury now, and they're not going to get to see him,” she said. “We're going to try to do a live video, but it's still not the same. They're not going to get to touch him or give him a kiss or anything. It's rough.”
While Rachel is still trying to keep a routine for the children, she said she can still hear his voice singing Mexican or country songs through the house. Their 6-year-old daughter knows he is gone, but occasionally she cries because she misses him. However, their 3-year-old son has not comprehended the death yet, he just thinks his dad is sleeping.
Rachel hopes people remember Juan for being a loving person and a great friend. She, on the other hand, will miss his radiant smile and soft presence.
“I will miss his hugs the most. [They were] very warm and strong, you just felt safe in his arms,” she said.
