The Wall

Mexico-American relationships have been part of my family's history - that began when my father was a Marine in the Thirties, and was stationed in Haiti. He liked being there, and even had a local girlfriend - much to the horror of his family back in Iowa.

Looking back at it, I think what pleased Dad the most, was the opportunity it gave him, to be someone important. This was a normal human feeling, and was not tainted by the feeling that they were inferior beings. He just liked being important.

Much later, in the Fifties, his affections for Haiti were transferred to Mexico. He had learned the French language in Haiti, and he now learned the Spanish of Mexico. And every year-end holiday we drove all the way from Illinois to Mexico City. And then to Acapulco, which was then, in an undeveloped state.

The Mexicans were friendly, and enjoyed our company - and we enjoyed theirs.

Back then, Mexicans (those wealthy enough to own cars) could easily cross the border and get jobs in the US, And Americans could easily retire, and live cheaply in Mexico. Neither side demonized the other.

This situation deteriorated later, as I found out when I landed in a Mexican jail, and was deported from the country. Mexicans were determined to rid their country of the hippies that were polluting their culture.