I hate hearing about things like this. Having been there, I know some of what these guys are doing. No way I would ever go back to live or work in that area.
My three years in lower Arizona, and four years in New Mexico, I saw lots of Mexicans crossing the border. While in New Mexico my Wranglers and I picked up many family groups. Men, women, and children. Or we guided the Border Partol to Dozens and Dozens of groups of Mexicans crossing the White Sands, trying to get past the BP check points. Back in those days they were not armed or smuggling drugs. But they were still dangerous.
I went to check up on a wild horse capture operation we were running at the base of the San Andreas Mtns. One of my wranglers had been knifed and another beat sensless during the night. Their saddle horses were stolen, and a dead Mexican was lying in the catch pen. He must have thought the horses in the pen was saddle stock. Those wild mustangs ground him into Coyote bait. We scooped him up with shovels and put him in a box. We turned the box over to the BP.
There was only one person I did not turn over to the BP. I saw an old man walking (staggering) out across the sands. I drove my dune buggy in his direction. He tried to run but fell, then he tried to crawl to hide. He did not want me to pick him up, but he was too weak to run or hide. He had two empty milk jugs on a string around his neck, and dehydrated pretty bad. I had two quarts of water with me and let him drink slowly. He eventually drank both quarts. I thought of radioing the BP, but decided to take him to a friends ranch, the nearest place with water. Sally the owner took him in to her barn and cared for him. Sally spoke Spanish and he told her he was looking for his kids. All he knew was that they had crossed the border. His wife had died and he was now alone, so he was trying to find his kids. Sally asked me if I would just leave him with her, not turn him over to the BP. That was very unusual, Sally was very addimate about reporting any sightings to the BP. Sally put a bed in a box stall for him, and walled it in. She already had a bathroom with a shower out there. That old man took care of Sally's stock in the barn. He also made sure night visitors (wetbacks sneaking around the checkpoints) did not steal anything. He would sometimes give them a place to sleep, and water. Sometimes food, then see that they were on their way before sunrise. He would not accept money from Sally, but he did accept food and clothing. He was too frail to do any real work around the ranch, but he did take good care of her brood mares. He was deathly afraid of my little Arab Stallion. I often took him over to use for breeding with Sally's Big Running Quater mares.
