Roots of Indifferences

by Terri Ragsdale

  Emma, perplexed, returned to the sala and asked, "Federico what is going on?" Why are you leaving? We have plenty of room and no need to move Francisca away. You can rest the night and leave for Spanish Acres in the morning. Tell me what has happened? I know Howard has been acting very strange since I returned home."

  "Better ask your husband, since he has a lot of explaining to do. He needs, to be frank and truthful, especially to you, Emma, since he may be spending many hours away, explaining to the Federal Courts about his conduct. We thank you for your generous hospitality. You have been very gracious and kind. Your food is wonderful and your home is very comfortable. Thank you again. Please come and visit with us with the twins at Spanish Acres when you can. For the time being, we must leave."

  *****

  In the following weeks, Don Federico spent many hours going over the condition of his land, his cattle, and vaqueros, as well as some of the property claims and deeds for Spanish Acres. The family was shocked to learn that their favorite dog, J.D., had died mysteriously. Fred and Carlos were inconsolable.

  Don Federico returned to the town of Mercedes City investigating the property his father had bought years ago. The area consisted of over twenty-five acres, which needed clearing of the rough mesquite and cacti. He hired fifty Mexican laborers to begin the arduous work and talked to a builder with plans for a beautiful Victorian house featuring Gothic-style decorations on the outside. The residence would be three-stories, with a brick foundation, with the rest built of fine wood to be shipped in by train.

  While the house was being built, Don Federico and Doña Francisca stayed at the Mercedes City Hotel, built in 1907 by the American Rio Grande Land and Irrigation Company for their guests and for many engineers' families, who later bought property and made the region their home. The hotel provided a pleasant stay with its tall ceilings, large windows, open French doors, and very fashionable verandas, with beautiful surroundings of greenery. Emma taught Spanish classes to the Women's Study Club, making her quite the center of both societies and social life.

  While Doña Francisca rested, either at the hotel or with Emma, Don Federico met with an elderly man named H. A. Marsh, who was head of the Hidalgo County school system. Marsh was distinguished looking, tall, with white hair and beard, and had an exceptional education, for he knew several languages. Don Federico was able to get the lowdown on the school system, the Jim Crow laws, and made known his concern about the many children who couldn't read or write. Marsh took a liking to Don Federico and begged him to consider becoming a schoolteacher for the North Ward School. The Texas school board, still in its infancy, was not yet forcing parents to send their children to school. That would not come until several years later.

  Don Federico and Doña Francisca would frequently travel to and from Spanish Acres to Mercedes City, then across the border onto the ferryboat to the town of Reynosa. There they visited Dr. Cantu, who advised them of Doña Francisca's diagnosis, which did not sound good. Dr. Cantu recommended a new medicine just available on the market, containing much stronger cocaine and thought to be more powerful.

  A month later, Don Federico left Doña Francisca in the care of Emma. He took Fred by train to the Military Academy run by the Baptist Church in Temple, Texas. He spent a day on the school grounds with his son, getting to know all of their rules and regulations and what was expected of Fred. From there, Don Federico took the train to San Antonio to check on his sister Josie, who appeared to be happy. Perhaps she was putting on a front, for she seemed content with her husband; however, she had not delivered her child. For the time being, the pressure of responsibility came off his shoulders, and he decided not to worry about Josie's problems. He returned the following week and found Doña Francisca happy, with rosy cheeks, and he was very pleased to read several letters from Victoria that sounded very positive regarding her studies. They had also received a note from Fred, writing that he was adjusting and starting to enjoy his schooling.

  The Mexican newspapers throughout the Rio Grande Valley announced that Madero's troops had entered into Mexico for the second time and had led an attack on Casas Grandes. The government of Texas became disturbed by the activities in Mexico and feared for the people living so close to the border. High officials stood mute and tense and wondered whether or not to call in the National Guard. Any violence so close to the border would automatically affect the majority of the people on both sides of the river.

  Shortly after, the city of Ciudad Juarez was under attack, and thousands of residents in El Paso climbed to their rooftops to watch the battle on the opposite side of the Rio Grande. Many cities and towns in Mexico fell into revolutionary hands. The press became increasingly critical of the Díaz regime, and many of the Federalist troops who had been loyal to the Mexican President started deserting and crossed over onto Texas soil. All were suffering from malnutrition and had various horror stories to tell.

  The immediate result was easily foreseen. Don Porfirio Díaz, once grand and impressive, had withered like a dry leaf. It became the time for the people, and the movement surged like a great tidal wave throughout the whole country of Mexico. The little man, Madero, began winning as he had predicted, and before long, Díaz, the powerful and indifferent, was talking about leaving his comfortable throne.

  A treaty was eventually signed. Forcing Díaz and Vice President Corral resign. Fransico Leon de la Barra assumed the interim presidential post until new elections could be held.

  The Revolution had been successful, and Francisco Madero was taking over Mexico. The majority of the Madero supporters were pleased, especially Don Federico, who had fought for the victory with his money, and also for the protection of his daughter in Mexican territory.

  Time flew rapidly by, and with so much help from Mexican laborers, the new house in Mercedes City was completed by late fall. Behind the big mansion was a huge barn built for the horses and buggies, for the automobile were still in its infancy, and few in the Valley had one. Next to the barn was a tall windmill that piped fresh water into the residence.

  At Spanish Acres, Roy had already informed Don Federico that he was going to marry Soledad. This was upsetting to some of the women at Spanish Acres and a surprise to the Juelsons; nevertheless, Don Federico gave them his blessing. Roy's marriage would not interfere with his taking care of Spanish Acres, and he would continue in his position as foreman.

  The surprising news had automatically created a big stir with Yolanda's parents, Miguel and Elena. Yolanda, in early September, had delivered a healthy baby boy and believed it had been Roy's child. Roy denied it to Don Federico and claimed that he had not slept with her since long before Victoria's celebration. Questions swirled as to who had fathered the child. Yolanda played dumb and would not confess to her parents who the father was. Miguel, finding out about her pregnancy, had given her a beating so severe that Elena would not let him get close to her again. It created such a ruckus that both of the parents had stopped talking to one another.

  Don Federico decided if Roy wanted to get married and settle down into a serious relationship, he would offer him some of the Spanish Acres lands. Roy could pick the part he wanted and cultivate it. The Don would also donate several prime cattle with which to start his ranch. As for Yolanda's escapade, Don Federico decided that he would not get involved, for it was none of his business. He had too much to think about, especially his wife, children, moving, and his status. Within two weeks, Roy and Soledad were married in a small ceremony in Harlingen before the Justice of the Peace.

  Dona Adela's prophecy had come true.

  *****

  In Mercedes City, several mule wagons from Spanish Acres came to unload some of the furniture and fill the newly built, opulent home. New furniture was on order from the San Antonio Sears and Roebuck store for new mattresses, a cooking stove, and other commodities for the spacious bedrooms that featured large, tinted, cut-glass windows for the delight and comfort of their many guests. An enormous, circular porch surrounded the lower
level, and upstairs there were screened-in verandas. Doña Francisca had always wanted a place where she could sit and rock, doing her quilting outdoors, especially during the hot summer months. Plants were imported from Brownsville, including several palm trees and varieties of flowering bushes for the front yard, as well as varieties of citrus trees from Mission, Texas.

  On the north side of the house, Don Federico insisted on planting several black walnuts, pecan, and mulberry trees. Fig trees were planted on the south side, and aromatic magnolia trees and gardenia bushes were planted in front of the house on both sides of the driveway to perfume the air on hot days. The Mexican-American friends living on the north side of town would come and visit, bringing food and gifts, commenting on how lovely the house was and how lucky they were to be living on the gringo side.

  Within a month of moving into their new home, Emma threw a large party welcoming the Juelsons into their community. Many of the guests were the engineers and wives of the Rio Grande Irrigation Land Company and included the mayor of the town, the banker, and several prominent families with high social standing who had moved into the area from the northern states and from the Deep South.

  *****

  Don Federico started volunteering his services in a four-room wooden schoolhouse across the tracks. In later years, it would be known as Hidalgo Street and Indiana Avenue, North Ward School. He became acquainted with the Catholic nuns from Our Lady of Mercy School and with the other teacher, Señora Agapita.

  When not teaching during the week, he would take Francisca to see her doctor, and on Saturdays and Sundays, he would spend most of his days at Spanish Acres, attending to his cattle with Roy, and seeing his people. Manuel was getting disoriented, drinking all the time, and Mamá Maria was getting older and was suffering from a severe case of arthritis in her hands, elbows, knees, and back.

  In Mexico, never did peace seem so close at hand. Madero, the great redeemer, won his first free election, an event that had not occurred in over thirty years. But, when he entered Mexico City, a severe earthquake had shaken the city and had caused destructive consequences to many buildings, killing over two hundred, and injuring thousands. "This was an omen of terrible things to come," the populace would say.

  There was still a vast disparity of indifference between the Mexican-American people and the whites, who had traveled from the northern states and had settled in the lovely town of Mercedes City. On Sundays, families would go to their own church services and spend their afternoon at Campacuas Lake socializing and seek relief from the humid summer heat. The Mexican men would bring their rifles and shoot birds on one side of the bank, while the whites socialized on the other side. Small children, innocent of prejudice, were told not to mix with the other race, even though both enjoyed swimming together. The topics of conversation would inevitably turn to the terrible injustices being committed upon the Mexican-American people, and yet there was nothing anyone could do about it. On the south side of Mercedes City, past the railroad tracks were the gringo merchant places of business with posters nailed to the newly planted palm trees: "No Mexicans Allowed." Ironically, it was the Mexican people who did all the work for the white men and made them rich.

  *****

  Late in the month of November, after the Mexican people had celebrated the Días de Los Muertos, the day of the dead, early one morning, before the chickens were up, a tall, thin man, mostly all legs, wearing a silver badge on his dark jacket, knocked on Don Federico's front door. There was a stir of commotion in the household, waking Don Federico up. The gentleman introduced himself as Captain Marshall Bishop, a United States Deputy Marshal. He had come to get straight all the information that Don Federico had mailed to the office in Austin earlier. On his hips, he wore two, big, long pistols. He seemed serious but cordial. Don Federico found him to be the spitting image of Wyatt Earp, even to his stiff, dark mustache and Stetson hat. The Don ordered his servants to bring a pot of coffee with two cups out to the porch.

  Captain Bishop's first words were, "What a nice home."

  "It's not even a year old," remarked the Don. "I had it built for my sick wife."

  Bishop wasted no time getting down to business. "Got your letter, and it brought up some perplexing questions."

  "It's been over two years," commented Don Federico, still half asleep, but thinking, Could it be that something is finally going to be done about the injustices in the Valley? It did not take long to tell Captain Bishop the full story about his father's death, Tom White's murder, about the Rio Rico incident, about Soledad, about José Esquibel's death, and the story of the gold mine in Monterrey. He continued explaining how it was all linked to the Texas Rangers' activities and their cruelty, especially to the Mexican people in the surrounding region.

  Captain Bishop's face was stoic and without expression as he listened. He seemed to know more than he was letting on. "I am not surprised," he retorted wryly. "I have been sent also by the Department of Justice to investigate several rumors of a conspiracy going on here in the Rio Grande Valley and across the river, getting wind of this information in San Antonio. From the correspondence you sent us, we surmised you know more about the people who live here, and I was asked to talk to you personally."

  "Conspiracy? Here in this town?" quizzed Don Federico, almost choking on his coffee.

  "Well, we don't know for sure, if it's in this town, but it's all over here in the Valley. Several Germans, with the help of some Mexicans, would like to take this country over," he said. He rolled his tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other and spit-out among the bushes next to the porch. "The word is, two or three of these conspirators supposedly live here in this town. They have been under suspicion and we have some names."

  "Germans," said Don Federico. He shook his head. "There are many German people in this town, but they are considered good, upstanding citizens, many with wives and children, only wanting the best for this community."

  The Captain looked at the Don, then glanced around the porch, left and right—a habit of his suspicious nature. "Ah, bullshit!" He spits again and took several sips of black coffee. "The clever Germans I'm talking about want to take the State of Texas and Mexico together! There are those that are Madero-haters and want him out of office. An assassination plot has already begun. A man by the name of Reyes was stopped and questioned near San Antonio with documents concerning the plot. He said he was going to Mexico City to get things organized with high Mexican officials. One of our special agents lost him between the town of Laredo and the border. The Germans have spies living here with families, and they are infiltrating various groups, and reporting back to who knows who? Reports on Morse code are going out to German ships in Boca Chica Bay close to Ft. Brown. The Germans are starting a war with other countries in Europe, and we think they are including Mexico."

  "Killing Madero!" answered Don Federico, aghast, thinking of Victoria and Felicia in Monterrey. "Has the State Department notified Madero and his cabinet about this?"

  "Several times," he remarked, "but it doesn't seem to bother Madero or his staff." He shrugged, turned his head, and then spit. "Madero has been warned, and it's up to him to do something about it. We have been sending him telegrams, but he doesn't seem to be concerned. Madero seems to be reveling in his victory, having won the election, and not concentrating on his future. That's all we can do for now. We are just glad that peace is being restored in Mexico, at least for the time being. I don't think it's the end. I still think we are going to hear a helluva lot more in the coming year."

  Captain Bishop took another sip of his coffee and started on the subject of Hanson. "Regarding Hanson, I don't think we have to worry too much about him right now. The Mexican government is going to keep him for a long time. Those Mexican jails are tough. The Justice Department wants him extradited in the next couple of months to the Brownsville Federal jails, but it takes time and so much paperwork that it may take years to get him indicted. The Mexican government normally does not comply with our law
s. I don't know what is going to happen with Hobbs, since he was retired from the Texas Rangers, and with honors, believe it or not! We are still debating his case."

  Marshall Bishop paused, cleared his throat, and then continued. "The Pinkerton agency has put a bulletin out on Tom White. Without a body, things are hard to prove. Another thing, we got a tip that several of the officers are involved with the Ku Klux Klan. How many, we are not sure, but an investigation is on in the matter. I used to think that the Klan was only in the Deep South, but to my surprise, we have it here in this valley—Mexican-haters. We also learned that many of the business merchants are also involved with this dangerous operation, mainly to protect themselves, pat each other on the back, and keep quiet on any bad activities in relation to the Mexican-Americans."

  Don Federico was speechless for a moment but finally found his voice. "The Ku Klux Klan! Heaven helps us! They hate the Mexican-Americans, Negroes or for that matter, any minority. Heaven help the Mexican-American families in this area!"

  "Yeah, can you believe that? There is more than meets the eye here in the small border towns, especially so close to the river." Marshall Bishop grabbed his hat. "I must leave for now. I'll be in touch as soon as my Special Agent David McLean goes down to Brownsville and talks to Federal Judge Barnes. I don't suppose he'll believe a damn thing we tell him, but I'll show him the documents and our orders from the State Department." He said it with a slow drawl, concerned though not overly optimistic.

  "I suppose not," remarked Don Federico. "The Mexican-Americans are silent, they don't complain—they just go on about their own business. Nobody is going to believe that the Mexican people in the Valley are suffering from injustice. But, how can they not? Mexicans are found every day strung up from tall cottonwood trees, having been tortured all night long, horsewhipped, or shot in the back with the excuse that they were escaping! Nobody here can help them, or answer for them, nobody here speaks out! Every Mexican-American family is afraid."