Louis A. Arana Sanes, 99, went to heaven July 21, 2026, from Sun City Center, Fla., when his brave heart finally stopped beating.
He fought hard to stick around a bit longer at HCA South Shore Hospital. But when he got the call, he answered it.
His sons Louis, Eddie and Raúl were at his bedside when he passed, holding his hands.
Now he’s in the home of his maker and in the loving arms of the love of his life, Luz Emilia. He’s not suffering in this world anymore. He has no more pain. No more worry.
We’re devastated and hurt. We can’t believe he’s gone. That he won’t be telling us what parking space to take anymore. Or that he didn’t like his haircut.
But Louis had a long and fruitful life and most importantly, he was a good and honest man. A good husband, father and role model. He worked hard to be a good provider, and he was. And during his life, he was there when someone in the family needed help.
His influence on his sons will always endure.
Louis served 28 years in the Air Force. He worked in civil engineering for most of that time. He said the Air Force made him the man he became and he was more than proud of his service.
Every time there was a military ceremony in the senior community where he lived, he wore his “mess dress” uniform, with all the medals and the huge silver chief master sergeant stripes. He loved the “you look so handsome” comments from the ladies.
Louis was a proud, true old-school, brown-shoe GI to his last breath.
He was born in 1927 to Ramon and Lucia Arana, in a poor “barrio” of Caguas, Puerto Rico. Ramon traveled the island selling tobacco and horses. Lucia sewed and washed clothes. He was one of 14 brothers and sisters — Ramon had three or four wives. Louis was the last one left.
Louis told us that on Sundays, his father let him ride a horse through his neighborhood, to wash at the nearby river. He remembered people looking up to him, and he was proud of that.
After graduating from Central High School in San Juan, Puerto Rico, in 1946, he left his beloved island home to live with his brother, Domingo, in New York City. All he owned were some clothes in a cardboard suitcase and about $5 in his pocket.
He wanted a better life and to go to Columbia University. But the Army drafted him in 1946 and in February 1947 he went to basic training in San Antonio, Texas. Then he went to Lowry Field, Colo., to become an Army clerk typist. He met and became a lifelong friend of his future brother-in-law, Carlos Barradas. Carlos showed him a photo of his three sisters. Louis fell in lover right there and told him one day he’d marry his sister, Luz Emilia.
The two flunked out of the clerk-typist school. “I couldn’t type under pressure,” Louis said. But he couldn’t type worth a darn for the rest of his life.
Both went to Roswell, N.M., and were there during the famous 1947 UFO incident. “They wouldn’t let us near the hangar where the UFO was. Everything was off limits,” he said.
Louis hated his job in supply at Roswell. One day he found a fellow Puerto Rican from Mayagüez stealing his Ike jacket. “I grabbed a pipe and chased him. But he ran away,” he said.
The squadron commander found out. “You Puerto Ricans are always in trouble,” he said. “The next assignment is yours.” But he missed his ship to Europe, so the Army assigned a master sergeant to ensure he got to Germany. Louis ditched him as soon as he got on the ship and spent the whole voyage sleeping in different bunks, so he wouldn’t have peel potatoes.
That post was to Neubiberg Air Base, Germany, in February 1948. He joined the World War II occupation forces and served during the Berlin Airlift.
He loved telling us that while in Germany he sent his mom his paycheck and lived from the money he made playing poker and black-marketing cigarettes and coffee. He paid to have his laundry done in cigarettes. He told us he once took a train to Austria for a three-day weekend at a military hotel that included the train ticket, hotel room and meals for about four dollars.
That was the start of his long journey to his final home. Along the way, he grew up and he became what he always used to tell us, “A man of the world. A planner.”
We always got a chuckle out of that.
But he did travel and got to experience a lot — after an important interruption. In 1950, he thought he’d had enough of the Army and went home to Puerto Rico. He went to meet Luz. When he did, he was smitten again. But he could only take her out with a chaperon, our Aunt Hilda. Dad said he’d give her a dime to look the other way.
My grandmother Isabel was OK with Louis marrying Luz. But it took a bit to win our grandfather Tule’s OK.
But they got married in 1951. Dad had to borrow money to pay for the event. By then, he’d reenlisted in the Air Force. And a year later, Louis was born on their anniversary day, so no party.
They were together 70 years and raised three sons. The family traveled two where the Air Force sent Louis: Louisiana, Puerto Rico, Nebraska, Wyoming, Montana, Illinois, Panama and Florida. Louis went solo to Germany, again, and Vietnam, which he hated, and Korea.
Dad worked mostly in Air Force civil engineering. He was proud he helped the Air Force implement a new work control center concept. He became an expert in that. In Vietnam, he was with the famed 555th RED HORSE Squadron — The Triple Nickle — heavy construction base and runway builder. He loved to tell us he built Phu Cat Air Base.
Louis retired in 1974 in Panama and went back to Puerto Rico. Carlos helped him find a job at New Hampshire College. Louis and Luz then moved to Brandon, and he went on to work for Boeing and Aramco, which took him to Saudi Arabia, Spain and, with Luz, to Turkey.
Yet he found time to get a bachelor’s degree in liberal arts and science from St. Leo College. And he found time to do his favorite things: play dominoes, go fishing and entertain family.
When Louis retired for good, he and Luz moved to Valrico. They had a pool and weekends were for the family to visit for barbecues. They lived there until dear Luz passed away in 2021.
Then dad moved to Aston Gardens in Sun City Center, Fla. He hated it at first but grew to like it there and made new friends.
Louis said his 28-years of military service shaped and bettered his life, and that of his family. He was right and never forgot his military ways.
Louis was neat and orderly. By the book. He had an almost fanatical routine, which is why we think he lived so long. All his things had a place. He liked order. He hung all his shirts by their color, his pants, too — but in separate closets. His drawers were full of underwear and T-shirts neatly folded into 6-inch squares, GI style.
Louis never left the house looking “sloppy.” No way. He was a sharp dresser. He’d always be color coordinated and he never left his apartment without first checking himself in the mirror.
The day an ambulance took him on his last trip to a hospital — he asked if he should get dressed.
Louis wasn’t perfect. Sometimes he was a bit gruff. So, yes, he had his moments. But he had a bigger heart than he led on.
Louis Arana Sanes is in heaven now because he was a good, decent and generous man who lived a good life. He adored Luz Emilia. He loved his sons, and the grandson of whom he was so proud.
And he cared about, loved and was generous and kind to his family. He was always there for them. That’s how his sons — and hopefully everyone — will remember him.
Louis left behind a grieving and loving family. Louis Jr. and Gail Arana. Eddie Arana, Raul Arana and Martina Hanks, and Rhys Arana.
Louis has one more trip to make, this time to his final resting place next to Luz Emilia at the Atlantic Garden Veterans Cemetery in Montaña, Puerto Rico.
He will make that trip with his friend of 80 years, Carlos. He passed away in April 2026.
We will miss the old man and his ways. But we take solace knowing he is now at peace next to our dear mother.
