Fall 08
Vol. 13 No. 4

Ronstar, a.k.a. Lupe Prado of the Fire Department, left, with fellow clown Ju Ju Bean, dealt with her son’s death by clowning around. Now, Ronstar is bringing smiles and balloon animals to others who need cheering up.

Story by Dave Schafer

Her grandsons would never be sad again.

That’s what Lupe Prado resolved in June 2002 when she donned a pink wig, white makeup and huge pink and white shoes.

The 9- and 10-year-olds’ father had recently died in a work accident. That meant Prado, a senior office assistant to Assistant Fire Chief Roy Paul, also had lost her 29-year-old son, Ronald Garcia.
She distracted her grandsons from their pain by clowning around. Thus Ronstar was born and christened after her son’s America Online screen name.

“It was good therapy for me too,” she said. “I needed to get into something that wouldn’t bring me down. And it’s something I can do to honor Ronnie.”

A (Ron)star is born
When Prado worked part-time at Gallery Furniture in 2001, she watched Ms. Daisy, a clown, entertain shoppers.

“I wanted to do that,” said Prado, who’s worked for the city 15 years. “When my son died, it became my calling.”

Ms. Daisy suggested Prado join Cheerful Clown Alley 166, which meets monthly at the Center Serving Persons with Mental Retardation. In October 2001, Prado, then 52, attended an alley meeting.

She felt comfortable, Prado said. “I just fit in.”
The following June, clown class started. She learned how to put on makeup, make balloon animals, put on skits, paint faces, and develop her clown personality.

On Aug. 3, 2002, exactly one year after Ronnie’s death, she graduated with a clownology degree.

Spreading joy
Besides birthday parties, Ronstar performs at nonprofit gigs such as career days, the Houston Livestock and Rodeo Show cook-off, and heath fairs. She gravitates to causes involving children with disabilities. Her favorite is The Lighthouse of Houston’s beeping Easter egg hunt.

Sometimes, bringing a smile to someone’s face is as easy as driving to work. She’ll stop at a light and the people in the car next to her will honk and wave.

“It makes me feel good to know that I’m doing nothing at all, and I’m cheering up people,” she said.

Each year, Prado’s co-workers in the fire prevention bureau visit The Shriner’s Hospital in Galveston, but she resisted going. She was a happy clown spreading cheer and laughter, but even four years later, the wounds from her son’s death were still too raw to scratch with the images of badly injured children.

Ronstar takes over
Then, last December, she went to the hospital and talked to the severely burned children. She gave them clown stickers and danced between puppet shows.

“Lupe’s got a tender heart, so she just really took to it,” said Charles Key, chief investigator in the Fire Marshal’s Office, who organized the trip.

“When I get in my costume, I just try to make everybody happy and make everybody laugh at me and with me,” Prado said.

Prado hopes to retire in 2009 and let Ronstar work fulltime. She wants to get involved in hospital clowning – something she couldn’t have considered before the trip to Shriner’s.

As for her grandsons, they’re teenagers now and happy that their grandmother keeps their father’s memory alive.

“They think it’s cool, but they’re a little embarrassed now,” Prado said.

Ronstar doesn’t care. She’s too busy clowning around.

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