A Maine Man in Texas

So Long, Mexico

I thought I would be more disappointed and sad at leaving our home in Mexico. We had moved there to be able to live a comfortable life on short money after a stroke took both my wife and me from our jobs. And, living in Mexico was wonderful on several levels, including the reasonable cost of living. We found some very good friends (more family than friends), we totally lucked out in finding a very nice house to rent, and the climate, well the climate was not always the best, but there was no snow or ice to deal with.

About a year into our stay in Ciudad Victoria, Tamaulipas I started to get “antsy”. It bordered on bored and I decided to involve myself in a course of study. I really searched my soul for an area that would interest me and, as if divinely inspired, I was directed to the ministry. Having been raised a Catholic I found it almost amusing that I might become a minister of Jesus the Nazarene. But that's another story. This journey of spiritual and emotional development took some strange turns and eventually led to my choosing an on-line seminary from which I could become ordained. But most importantly, I was occupied everyday and two years went by without incident. Carolyn was content watching TV and going to the movies once a month. We traveled to McAllen Texas about every three months to attend the VA clinic and shop for the few things we wanted that were not available in Mexico. These trips broke up the year and provided a pleasant distraction.

Life was good and the living was easy. Then, about a year ago, I became aware that the tension in town was becoming more tangible. There was nothing I could point to directly, but my friends seemed more on edge, there were more federal police around, army checkpoints along the highways were more and more intrusive. The drug violence that was usual along the border began to seep down closer to our town. As our discomfort level rose, I decided to plan our return to the States when I turned 62 and could get Social Security. Part of this process was looking into the job market. I answered an ad for a position in Victoria, Texas. We traveled to Victoria in the early spring for the interview. I didn't get the job, but we did like the town. So, Victoria was the destination.

The 4th of July is a holiday in the States, but in Mexico, this year, it was election day. The weeks leading up to the elections were filled with the usual champaign activity. I don't pretend to understand the politics of Mexico and worked very hard to keep a safe distance from the rallies and speeches. The candidate who was predicted to win the Governorship of Tamaulipas was a nice enough politician who was charismatic and well liked. Apparently not everyone was happy with his popularity, however. He and five of his aides and security detail were ambushed and killed not too far from our house.

That was it for us. All of a sudden things became uncomfortable. Restaurants were empty, No one moved around after dark. Heavily armed troops patrolled our city and helicopters flew overhead. We decided to move immediately. We went to Victoria, TX at the end of July, rented an apartment in a nice, older established complex and decided that August 20th was moving day. Upon returning to Mexico we told our Mexican family that we would be leaving. We sat down, looked around, and decided, almost on a whim, to pack and get out as soon as possible. We moved on August 9th.

I thought I would be more sad about leaving Mexico, but I am not sad at all. Don't get me wrong, I love our Mexican family. And I will miss them. But not Mexico. In fact, I am giddy at being back in the States. It seems that I have, for some time, been repressing feelings of regret and resentment. I'll have to deal with these. God bless America.


"people should have to pay to go to church and theater should be free"