Drama at the Breakfast Table

We live in the heart of where the "Old West" took place.

Tombstone is about 30 minutes away, and many tourists travel there every year to get a taste of the gun-slinging cowboys from history. Some actually move here, yearning to feel and live the lifestyle every day.

People here carry guns. Including us.

I'm lucky.
The person who taught ME how to handle a gun was my Army Special Forces brother.

There's another dangerous ingredient to the mix and culture here:
THE BORDER OF MEXICO.


Poncho Villa lives!
But now, he does NOT cross the border to steal our women and cattle; he crosses because drugs are a big business and because Mexico stinks.

No, really. It smells funny. I know because I cross the border to get tortillas and tacos...and then I come right back.

And here's the thing that troubles my soul:
I've been there. IF I was born there, I would try to cross that border EVERY DAY (especially if I had a family). Corruption forces people to cross illegally, but that's still not okay. We still have to have the rules BECAUSE (unfortunately) there are lots of people in the world who want to hurt us. I feel bad for the "better life" crossers who don't want to cause trouble. Unfortunately, with that group comes the "Coyote" (who traffics people and exploits their desperation) and the "Mule" (the deadly drug-runner).

The Coyote and the Mule are usually the ones who speak good English. Another cue: big backpacks. (I will be passing on more "tips about illegals" in future posts.)

Let me tell you about the morning I had on the Ranch today....alone....trying to get my son ready for school.

This Ranch has developed a reputation over many years: a 10,000-acre safe-haven crossing point (surrounded by concealing foothills) where Border Patrol was not given permission to enter. Bad news: we're the new owners and we have a different policy.

The morning started with hearing news that there was a "car bomb bail-out" at the entrance to the Ranch. (TIP: A Car Bomb is when a van or SUV pulls off the road and 20 illegals jump out and start running in all directions.) Only 30 minutes after the "bail-out" (and about that long after Ben had left), I heard a knock at the door. I couldn't see anything.

"It might be Jim," I thought to myself. (A real-life cowboy who stops by occasionally to check on the cattle he has running on the Ranch right now.) Just to be safe, I told Hayden to stay at the table and I ran to the gun safe. In less that 5 seconds, I had my 10mm Glock ready in my hand.


This is what went on in my head:

Deep breath.....

Okay, one more deep breath.....

Think....

Calm....(pause)

I'M READY!

I opened the door to find TWO hispanic men, one who spoke incredibly good English (red flag #1--see "drug-runner" above). They kept their distance, so I decided to keep the gun at my side behind the door instead of showing it to them as a warning. Still, I stood ready in case of an ambush from the side.

The one in the dark blue shirt asked for water.
He had almost NO accent.
I pointed him to the spiket on the side of the house....a place where I could watch them from the window. Then, I closed and locked the door and called Ben. Ben started home while calling Border Patrol.

I paced from window to window, making sure I kept an eye on them. "Where are the others?" I thought to myself. "They could be anywhere."

After a minute, they headed North out of the Ranch Headquarters; sauntering away as if they had all the time in the world. I kept looking for backpacks.

I watched as they walked across the cattle-guard. Suddenly, two more men appeared. They had been hiding behind the John Deere Tractor, parked beside the corrals.

As I started to drive the long dirt road to the bus stop (disarmed Glock in my purse), the first Border Patrol truck showed up. We greeted each other briefly and went our separate ways. Ben was the next to meet up with me. He had found a bunch of "crossing papers" in Spanish, scattered along the dirt Ranch road, which he had just given to the officer who was coming onto the Ranch from a different angle.

I turned around and followed Ben back to the Ranch headquarters. "I think I'll just TAKE my son to school today, and that gives me a bit of extra time." After about 10 minutes, we heard the Patrol trucks leaving the Ranch.

When it was time to leave and go to school, we found the note hanging from the barbed wire next to the cattle gate and blowing in the gentle breeze:
"All four illegals were arrested!"

Earlier, Ben had talked with the agent. "When you find them, tell them they're lucky. My wife was holding a readied gun behind the door."

"I think I WILL tell them that!"

I hope he does. Maybe it will change the reputation of the Ranch. This is the third time I've had to meet someone at the door with a gun hidden behind my thigh, wondering if I was going to have to defend my family; to protect myself and my son while he sat in another room.


I hope it's the last.