Journey of a Mexican Immigrant

A Journey of a Mexican Immigrant.
 
By: Horacio Duran
 
 
 
 
What goes throught the mind of a child when it is exposed to violence and terror it is incomprehensible. I was not aware of the deep seeded fears and turmoil that this can cause in a human being, but I think I am beginning to unravel such an impact as I look back on my life experiences and meditate upon them. It was the morning of September 23 1965, In a city located in the northwestern state of Chihuahua, the name Madera (Timber land) My Dad, was a city policeman and drove the only van available to transfer convicts tru and fro the jails around. That particular morning was important because it was the first day that I will see him go to work. Every morning he was sleping when I went to school, or he was gone but that day we were getting up at the same time. Not long since we woke up we heard some explosions, first one and two, then some scattered sound of bullets, my Dad quickly prepared himself to go out and find out what was going on. Madera city was a small community, build by timber workers of the sierra madre, and distances within the town were small, population three thousand and some. My mom was worried about my Dad, my little brother was hardly 2 years old to young to understand the commotion. My sister was 14 and we all gathered at the door and say goodbye to Dad. I do not know in detail what happened during the lapsed from when my dad left and the first wounded arrived at the clinic around the corner from our house. We lived in a house loaned to us by the county, this house has been a center of municipal offices previously. It was one block west from the main plaza. And around the corner from the radio station. This shooting and explosions started around 7 am and continue for about 45 min.. It might have been around 8:30 am that my mom asked me to check the clinic around the corner and asked about dad. I was waiting by the door at the clinic when an open bed truck showed up with three Mexican soldiers, wounded, one had a thorned left arm and part of the face gone, one had lost his legs, there was blood all over, the scene left me speechless. I could not utter the questions that I had practice over and over in my mind. I stared and watched this soldier being taken inside, one soldier came around the corner and told me to go home. I left without saying a thing. At home my mom asked what was going on, I could not explain simply stared at the ceiling and keep quit.. The hours passed slowly, and around 1:30 pm my Dad came home briefly to tell as what was going on. There had been a shoot out between military forces and some rebels that believe to be the guerrilla formed by former teachers and students. They have attacked the military post, fortunately the military forces have been successful and defeated the attack. There were many unanswered questions., not only for a young mind but for everyone around. My story is about learning to see both sides of the story and it took years to relized it. There are those who want to change things (Barak Obama) and those who want to keep them the way they are (McCain)

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