Desert Views

Monday, June 20, 2005

Border Journal - 20 June 2005

Not 5 minutes ago I returned from delivering a toy to my daughter at a friend's house 1/2 mile down the road. My almost-9 year old son had stayed home with the doors locked. "What's that Daddy?" he bellows across the house. I pause to listen. After a short moment, I recognize exactly what it is. And I am very angry. It had been a full month since the last time an Al Quaida terrorist knocked on my backdoor after trekking the desert backcountry northward from the Mexican Border south of here.

This is late June in southern Arizona. It's the time of year when otherwise rational people daydream about sleeping on a bed of crushed ice at the salad counter in a restaurant. And today is very June-like. It's really hot. I mean hot as Hell, exactly the way Dante envisioned it. I don't know this guy's motives. And I don't know whether he is alone or he's a Coyote leading a band of crossers. But one thing I do know: For someone who just crossed the desert in June, this guy doesn't look very hot. Hmmm.... His shirt looks dry and he asks me for food and water in perfect English .

So what do I do now? I am a human being; he is a human being. I don't know his motives or even if he will be a threat when I open the door. But I am not going to deny him water. I told him I wouldn't give him food because it was a Federal crime, but he was welcome to all the water he water he needed. And then I closed the door.

HOMELAND SECURITY: WHAT A LOAD OF PURE CRAP.

/cm

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Border Journal - 11 April 2005

It is Monday. I am home with my 6 year old daughter who is out of school with a touch of the stomach flu. She walks into the bedroom where I am working and asks "Daddy, what's that knocking?" I pause, listen for a moment, and assure her it is nothing. In just a few seconds she bolts back and thrusts her arms around me: "Daddy!! It's an an illegal! He's at the back door and the back door is open! I'm scared!!!" I walk into the living room and, indeed, there is a stranger standing inside the patio door. I wonder, "Right now, what are my options?" I have just one, so I walk to the door and ask what I can do for him. We struggle with a few back and forth attempts at conversaion. I don't understand Spanish, he doesn't understand English, but sign language works. He needs water. I go to the kitchen, fill a very large glass, and take it to him. He downs it in a few massive gulps. He motions for more, so I go fetch another glass full. Once again, he chugs it in a few gulps and motions for more. But this time, when I get to the kitchen I notice that he has followed me through the house. I notice that he has unzipped the black leather bag slung over his shoulder and is reaching inside fishing around. At this very moment, my mind focuses with crystal clarity: What does he have in the bag? Then I realize I am completely defenseless.

These "contact" events always happen this way: WITHOUT WARNING. Unless a person walks around with protection in their pocket, they are defenseless when approached by undocumented aliens. It happens OFTEN in southern Arizona. Once again my Government's lack of will to control the Border with Mexico has forced me into a very vulnerable position. Once again I am forced to roll the dice and hope that all will end well for me and my daughter.

As I watched his hands leave the bag, I realized he had fetched a large water bottle. He thrust it across the counter and motioned for me to fill it. He was in control. So there I was, standing at the kitchen sink filling an empty bottle of "Allejandro's Agua", 3 feet from a man I have never met and know nothing about. This situation is my Government's fault. Despite their constitutional mandate to "provide for the Common Defense", once again they've left me to fend for myself---to roll the dice and simply hope that it all works out OK.


After I repeatedly refuse to "taxi" him to Phoenix he finally leaves. I watch him fade away into the desert behind my house and I realize we're overdue for a family discussion about how to punch through the bedroom window and get out fast when Daddy screams.

/CM

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Border Journal - 1 April 2005

Knock knock knock knock! Rap rap rap! Knock knock knock knock! BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!!!

On and on and on it goes... I am on the couch, prostrate, struggling to lift from the depths of REM sleep. It continues. "Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock! BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!" I hear grumbling, then yelling. It's Spanish. It sounds angry. In my stupor I struggle to assemble a few simple, fragmented thoughts... then, suddenly, I'm awake. It's not a dream. What time is it? Where am I? And again: "BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!" Now my mental picture is complete: They are at my front door. There are many more of them than just one of me. They want inside. And they're not happy.

I need a strategy... NOW. I continue to feign sleep, grasping for ideas in spite of the continual banging and yelling. My head is propped up on the couch arm, facing the front door 20 feet away. My dilemma: Do they need help? Is it an emergency? Should I get up and answer the door at 2:30 in the morning---in complete darkness, for people I don't know, and who are in this country illegally? Or should I bolt to the interior hallway for protection? On the far end of the couch I see the outline of my son's head; no, I will stay right here. To my left across the room shines the weak, atomic-blue glow of a blank TV screen long after the DVD had put the two of us to sleep. It illuminates me and I realize that they've seen us through the 6 foot tall window beside door. At that moment I am braced by this fact: I am defenseless. I will just have to roll the dice, again, as my Government often expects me to do. I am just going to have to tough it out and see what unfolds. I am going to lie right here, unmoving, feigning sleep, hoping they will eventually give up and go away without charging the door.

"BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!!!"

By now, there have been 10 minutes of continual pounding on my front door. Lying motionless, my mind is flitting between questions and scenarios: "Why my door and not one of my neighbors'?" I guess they looked inside and saw us lying there. "What do they want? What do I do if they charge the door? Will it hold? Are they desperate? Do they have a gun?" I am faced with a moral dliemma: Do I go to the door and ask if they need help or do I act in my own best interest? Can I take the risk? I am at once angry. Once again I ask myself, "Why does my Government put me in this position? Why does my Government make me roll the dice on the safety of myself and my family?" In the weak glow, I can see my wife standing in the hallway. She too has figured out the situation. I wonder "What if I were away on a business trip right now?"

Finally the pounding stops and I wait a full minute before bolting for the hallway, switching off the TV with one quick passing stoke. It's dark inside the house now and the moon is down, so I run back to the couch, scoop up my son, and deliever him to our bedroom in total darkness. I hope they haven't gone around the back of the house as others have done before, testing the other windows and doors for access. My wife and I stand in the hallway, frozen, listening for the slightest sound. I realize my 6 year old daughter's bedroom is on the front of the house, 10 feet from the door... and that her window is open. What do I do?

Half an hour later, we realize they really have gone. But we're still too rattled to sleep. This is ridiculous. This is hell.

/CM

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Welcome to the Frontier

It wasn't my intention to live on the frontier when I moved from downtown Tucson to the edge of the metropolis some years ago. I intended getting closer to the American Southwest of decades past: the place before it became infected by industrial tourism, brown air in December, and yet one more water-starved, ecosystem-wasting 60,000 home development. All I wanted was some peace in my daily life, some relief from crime and unsavory urban elements, some real air, and a little desert around me. Ahhh,... how sometimes one's expectations can be hallucinations! Now, I must confess: I have found mostly peace and mostly quiet, pure air, and a slower pace of life. And I've found great neighbors and a holdover from a time long since vanished: the ephemeral Great American Small Town still extant in my neighborhood. But I've also found myself "embedded" --- as they call reporters among troops at the front line --- in a war zone that is the northward flood of illegal aliens and drugs, and also, perhaps, in the flow of terrorists and their weaponry. Here in the Southwestern US, at the turn of the millenium, I found myself at the frontier.

Let's push aside for a moment the ills of illegal immigration and narcotics trafficking. Everyone knows that our southwestern Border with Mexico is largely uncontrolled. Isn't it obvious that a nation cannot have national security if its borders are uncontrolled? And, if there is an unchecked flow of illegals and drugs across our borders, then doesn't that present a perfect vehicle for importing the really nasty stuff? Before the butchery of 9-11, I was sending Emails to my Governor, Congressional delegation, and the White House complaining about my first-hand experiences, begging for real Border security. I received not a single response. Not one! Was I prescient, in Spring 2001, when my Emails begged for Border enforcement, in the least, because of its potential for terrorist use? No, I don't think so; I just described some of my first-hand experiences and drew some fairly obvious conclusions. I suggested that it was really a no-brainer for terrorists to view the US-Mexico border as an ideal vehicle for importing manpower and materials into the US. Let's look at it this way: If the US Government won't enforce the border against successful breach by an some 4 million illegals and 50,000 tons of mind-rotting drugs per year, then isn't it child's play for terrorists to use the Border to import people and goods destined for truly sinister purposes?

For decades, the US Government has been mamby-pamby about quenching the flow of illegals and drugs across the US-Mexico Border. Can we permit their negligence to continue? I suggest that the only logical way to proceed is this: SHUT DOWN THE BORDER NOW to remove its potential for terrorism and, perhaps as a by-product, our Government will finally check the influx of illegals and drugs. Although the Government's actions over time show that it doesn't care about the impacts of uncontrolled immigration and drugs, I cannot say this too loudly: WAKE UP GUYS, THE STAKES ARE TOO HIGH TO LET THIS CONTINUE. START DOING YOUR JOB.
Quite frankly, crossing the Border and avoiding apprehension is so trivial that a competent 3-year-old could put forth a reasonable plan. For terrorists, both experienced and aspiring, there must be a handbook somewhere whose instructions go something like this:

  • Fly the successful routes of the drugrunners and dump your cargo at the standard drop spots.
  • Drive your 4-WD cross-country along the routes used by the narcotics smugglers. Backcountry (National Parks, BLM, Wilderness Areas) offer a proven record of success, so don't miss that opportunity. And don't worry about preserving the environment---no one else does. Just be successful.
  • Walk the foot trails used by the successful 75% of illegal aliens. They're everywhere.
  • If your luck goes bad some time and you get caught, just ditch your cargo and walk out with your hands up. Since you have no prior record, you'll just be "processed" and returned to try again. Don't make the same mistakes on future attempts! Their Government gives you up to 10 chances to re-enter and be caught and returned for another try.
  • In 2005, one of you will carry the final component for completing the field-grade nuclear bomb we have assembled during the last decade using those "under the radar" routes and methods their government has never bothered to watch.
Scary? You bet! In actuality, our ineffectual Government has done little to control the Border. They didn't care when I pleaded with them in 2001. And here we are in 2005, with this reality: We're on our own. The Minute Man Project proves that. The truth is that cracking the Border is so simple --- and has been for so many years --- that the question of whether it might be used for terrorist activities is almost too terrifying to ask. Thanks to our Government's historically lax attitude toward Border security, I don't question if terrorist use may occur; rather, I ask, When did it begin?

Who's fault is our porous, virtual border---this leaking, rotting sieve of non-existent
national security? First, let me say who I believe is not at fault: the field agents of the Border Patrol and Customs. For years I've talked to them about it; they just enforce policies set forth by the decision makers. Rather, it is the fault of our elected US Government and their appointees: those naive, self-infatuated politico's who tolerate the status quo, who continually pursue naive or pandering policies that have little impact, and who, in the end, really don't mind placing in jeopardy the safety and quality of life for American citizens if it gets them re-elected or keeps them in the club. Tough talk but, quite honestly, what other reasons can there be? Our Government simply will not uphold the laws and the Constitution they are sworn to defend. The Preamble to the Constitution of the United States lists as one of the primary functions of [our] Federal Government "...to provide for the common defense". Indeed, it's a laudable goal---if you can stay interested in doing it. Obviously, they aren't. One can certainly interpret "defense" in a spectrum of ways, but any rational definition of defense certainly involves providing all means necessary to assure life and liberty, and hopefully also to protect the "pursuit of happiness". But maybe my thinking is in the wrong time period; perhaps such notions are just far too "retro" for today's legislator! After all, the Constitution was adopted more than 200 years ago and its Framers have mostly left the scene and can't be sound-bited or hacked by today's "focus groups".

So what do we have? Our Government has abandoned the rather quaint and parochial interests of safety and security. Our Government's actions show that it doesn't give a desert rat's batootie about what happens to Americans as a result of its policies regarding the US-Mexico Border. Instead, our Government just looks the other way while life on the new frontier collapses back to the Old West, where packing heat on your hip gave you better odds but no guarantees. It boils down to this: My Government is supposed to protect me. But in our time, Government-provided security has become a complete joke; now, the risk is mine. When an illegal approaches me, I'm forced to gamble: Is this person safe? Is he packing protection? How about that person? Or that group of 30 guys with backpacks? How about those 3 guys with the pack-mule? Those two SUV's I saw parked together when I was taking my evening walk? Or how about that big wooden crate of white-plastic wrapped loaves that my kids happened upon while playing in the wash near the house? Out here on the frontier, my Government forces me to roll the dice.

/CM