"Do Not Hit Golf Balls into Mexico"--Brownsville, Texas

Suddenly I was in Brownsville driving west into traffic and I had no idea where I was going. But when I drove past the UTB-TSC campus I knew I was near the border, and learned that it was here where Senator Clinton will speak tomorrow; I heard about that on the local radio this morning. A good excuse to stay two days, just for the political thrill of it all. She is not doing very well in the campaign as she lost again tonight to Senator Obama in Wisconsin, a state she needed. But South Texas may go to her.

Border traffic is tense and I had to pay attention. One false lane and I could end up in Mexico, so my eyes were peeled. I still wanted to see the river though, to see how "grande" it really was in B'ville.

Just past the UTB campus was a directional sign to the "Fort Brown Memorial Golf Course". The park ranger from Washington-on-the-Brazos told me that the actual Fort was once located there, but it's torn down now and surrounded by a small but lush little golf course. I pulled in not to see the golf course, but to see the historical marker. And what a surprise I had!

I saw the two historical markers easily, then went inside to use the bathroom. A sign on the floor said "Do not hit golf balls into Mexico" and I had to smirk. Really, I thought, would someone actually throw their balls into Mexico? "Oh yes" said Adrian, the assistant grounds manager, "We recently had an altercation on hole 6 between two parties. Mexicans were throwing rocks over to our guys and our guys threw golf balls back. The Mexicans then complained to the consulate and an international incident almost happened, but charges were dropped" he said.

"Am I allowed to walk to the river?" I asked.

"Are you a reporter?" He must have wondered about my Canon slung over my left shoulder.

"No, I just write for my personal travel blog."

"Come, I'll show you the spot, I have to go there anyway and check on my kids" and with that I took a free ride on a golf cart to see the levee that divides the golf course form the international border, and I got to see the "grande" in all its small wonder. The river here is smaller than it is in El Paso.

Adrian is a high school math teacher with 23 years experience in both middle and high school levels who also works at the golf course and coaches young kids. As we drove around the course he told me that this golf course is the only course in South Texas that runs a Junior T program, a golf camp for youngsters. He showed me his prized players as they were on various pars along the way. He got out at each par and hugged every one of his students. What a wonderful teacher he must be, to love the youth as much as he does. It was obvious that Adrian has a lot of passion for his students, both in teaching math and in mentoring young people.

He took me to an overlook of the Rio Grande. It is indeed tiny. The San Pedro River in my Arizona county is wider than the Rio Grande here.

"180 feet and you're in Mexico" Adrian stressed.

I asked Adrian about the Fence the government wants to build along the river here. "I'll show you what their plans are" he said and drove me along the levee that divides the golf course from the special USBP access road that is closed to the public. "They want to build the fence NORTH of this golf course, which leaves us unsecure" said Adrian.

"Why would the government want to do that?"

"Because the golf course is part university property."

Huh?

Adrian was as perplexed as I was about that.

"Before 911 we had families of 25 or more cross the river every day. We had to chase them off the course. Now we may catch two or three a day. Look at that mansion across the river, that's allegedly a drug trafficker's mansion," as Adrian pointed to a very modern looking mansion in Matamoros that looked grossly out of place with the rest of the homes facing the river.

Just as we turned off the levee road to the maintenance shed of the course, a young Mexican came running out of the reeds and on the USBP road, stopping apparently to see if his buddy made it safely. (Later while leaving I saw a USBP van near that spot the young man jumped out of, but no arrested people were near the van) He was wearing a tank top and sandals and no backpack, what I normally see the Mexicans wear in southern Arizona.

"He dropped his back near the river after he changed into dry clothes," remarked Adrian. Other than acting suspicious with his looking-around glances, he looked like a good 70% of Brownsville right now, the other 30% being Winter Texans.

"They won't catch him" he said about the USBP, even though I saw USBP vans all over Brownsville while driving through town.

We talked some more inside the golf course snack bar, Adrian drawing me a map to downtown and even suggesting two good Mexican restaurants, The Vermillion and Antonio's. We talked more about underprivileged kids, the importance of learning English ("The Mexicans don't want to learn English anymore" he lamented) and parenting. "Golf is great therapy" although to me golf is more frustration because I can't hit a ball no matter how big its size.

Adrian loves Brownsville. "It's a safe city STILL," stressing that Laredo is much worse. He does not recommend I go into Mexico at all. "It's not safe there at all right now." The drug wars and crime are on the rise.

Adrian was busy taking care of customers still teeing and I no longer wanted to be a burden to him. He had been more than gracious to me for the past 30 minutes, taking time for a curious stranger who was no longer a stranger when we departed. I was ready to venture into town, now that I had a better layout of the city. I had enough daylight to see some historical sites.

http://www.civilwaralbum.com/misc6/fort_brown1.htm