The waning full moon had just risen over the eastern mountains as I left campus. It was a minute before 8pm. The red ball rejuvenated me and I couldn't wait to get home. It wasn't easy: I was driving south and the glowing ball was rising to my east.
KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD, CONNIE. How many times has Kevin told me that?
Mike and Bob, our guests for the night, had just arrived when I pulled into the driveway. The drive from San Diego had taken them nearly ten hours. They looked road weary, but were still willing to experience Bisbee. Kevin wanted to take them to all three bars in town. Normally Kevin's in bed by 8pm but tonight he made an exception.
Neither man had a decent winter jacket. They had packed their overcoats in the car. They didn't wear them across the Mohave desert.
We had the heat blasting in the car.
"Man, it gets cold here!" exclaimed Bob. "And the stars in the sky are amazing!"
"Especially when the sky's clear as there are no clouds holding the heat in," I answered.
Kevin drove and I sat in the front seat of his Buick. We both threw out factoids about Arizona to our backseat passengers.
"Ramsey Canyon is the end of the Rocky Mountains and the start of the Sierra Madres" said Kevin. I didn't know that.
"There are 14 rattlesnakes in North America. Arizona has 11 of them." I added. (I had read that off an Arizona Game and Fish poster)
I'm not sure the guys were all that interested in learning about Arizona trivia. And where did Kevin get his information about Ramsey Canyon from anyway?
The highway was dark and the bright lights of Naco and the border stood out. Suddenly Kevin pulled off the road and on the grass-overgrown shoulder.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"I gotta pee!"
"Are you crazy? You're going to have the Border Patrol on your ass as soon as you whip open your pants!" Those guys are known to pop out of dark corners at night.
"I hope they enjoy the view then!" I can just imagine a few Border Patrol agents, bored with being stuck monitoring the dark range, watching a man piss in the dark through their night vision goggles and their other high-tech stuff they have. Some of the technology the agents use in our sector is prototype surveillance equipment that has been field tested here in Arizona.
Luckily, nothing happened. We weren't apprehended for behaving suspiciously near the border. Kevin didn't trip any sensors. No Border Patrol came by. Kevin zipped up his jeans, smiled, and got back inside to resume the drive toward Bisbee.
The international border lights were quite bright tonight.
"When we first got here these border lights weren't here...these are all since 9-11." A helicopter was hovering over the border as we drove past Naco.
And then, again out of nowhere, bright lights hit us from behind. What the...? I turned around, ducked to see through the rear window what was behind us. And as expected, it was the floodlights of a helicopter that was speeding toward the border. Whatever type of helicopter that was, it flew quietly and only its floodlights gave itself away.
"Looks like you guys are witnessing an illegal pick-up." All our eyes were transfixed on the border.
We arrived at the Bisbee Grand Hotel just before 9pm. Christmas lights were still strung across Main Street. The drive across the dark roads seemed to take longer than usual because Kevin drove slowly (ie he drove the posted speed limit--45 mph)
The four of us had de facto doubled the clientele when we entered this historic saloon. Business was surprisingly slow tonight and Bert, the bartender (with a ZZTop beard and a long, thin grey ponytail) was happy to finally get some business.
I was the designated driver and only had one beer. Tonight it was Fat Tire Sunshine Wheat. The boys continued drinking Bud Light. Bert gave us popcorn to hold us over as I hadn't had dinner.
I liked Bert. He was a talkative fellow and seemed genuinely happy to have some business with us. And, as usual, I started a conversation with him about what brought him to this neck of the woods, as few people in Arizona are from Arizona.
Originally from Angleton TX (near Houston), you wouldn't know he's a Texan as he has no Drawl. He came to Bisbee with his wife years ago, after she sold her house in TX and he turned his over to his brother still in TX. That marriage didn't work out. "Once we got here she turned cooky on me" Bert explained, and the marriage soon faltered. But he's happy now with a Bisbee woman and lives up the street near the mayor's house.
Bert's been managing the Saloon part of the Grand Hotel for nine years now. He's seen business slack off since 9-11. Before 9-11 Mexicans could easily come across the border for decent night life in town "But all that's changed. Now we never know what it's going to be like. A few days ago I closed the bar at 10pm, we had only five sales all night. I remember when the hotel was booked solid, and now we're happy just to make a few reservations. It's the economy, it's really hurting us hard." This economy has hit all the hotels in the area hard, as tourism is the first thing people cut down on when money gets tight.
I've seen this kind of hardship all along our border, even in Texas, where before 9-11 many Mexicans living in bordertowns would easily cross the Rio Grande on foot (especially west of Big Bend where the river is shallow) to work in towns on the American side. Now all that is impossible with more stringent border protocol. This has practically killed the livelihood of many small Mexican towns along the border.
"But it doesn't matter how bad the economy is," continued Bert, "bars always manage to survive. I remember a bar in my old town...it sucked years ago and it still sucks today but it's still thriving!"
We also got to meet Linda, the owner of the Grand Hotel. She came by briefly to check on things. We chatted with her outside as the "boys" were on their cigarette break. I complimented her on the hotel and how much fun I had here on Christmas Day. Even Kevin seems to have warmed up to this place. Jen, the lady we met yesterday who brought her dog Johnston in, also came by, waved at us, and sat down at the counter with a glass of red wine. A few hours later and three games of pool behind us, we sat back at the counter and chatted with a very intoxicated local guy who had been to a birthday party earlier that evening. A few others came and went. The most Bert had tonight in the bar was nine people.
We never did go to the other bars. I was quite comfortable at the Grand. Bert said the Stock Exchange had closed by 9pm again (he had been talking to the owners of St Elmo's and the Stock Exchange to see how their business was doing and all three bars were very slow tonight.)
Our visitors seemed to have enjoyed a night in the 1906 saloon. Although it was unusually quiet tonight, I appreciated being able to talk to Kevin and the others in a normal voice.
It would be nice to come by the Grand more often, like after a shift at the school, but that will prove difficult as I have classes now Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursday nights and can't drink those nights. But Fridays would be nice as Kevin could join me. Fridays are his early release days. I could use the Grand Hotel Saloon as a sort of Stammtisch, a place to go after work to chat with locals and to develop a sense of community with the Bisbeeites over time. I can't think of a place in Sierra Vista that comes close to being as much fun as Bisbee's Grand Hotel.
"Just call me if you ever want to meet here for beer after work" he said just before we left at 11:40pm for the dark and cold drive back home. I was behind the wheel now.
"And thanks for driving tonight" he added as we got home.
___
Not related website but news from my homestate that's making headlines:
http://www.post-trib.com/1376414,numvscam.article
http://www.post-trib.com/news/1376151,weather.article
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