Roots of Indifferences

by Terri Ragsdale

  "Come and make your home here in Mercedes—be part of the family. I'll see that all of your expenses are taken care of. You will never have to worry about a thing. It will please all of us, and all of the Mexican-American community will have open arms for you." Don Federico's face lit up. "We need a Mexican doctor in this area. Just think what a blessing it would be for everyone. What do you say?"

  For the first time, in the dusk of evening, there was a positive excitement in the air.

  It took Juan several minutes to put his thoughts together and for Don Federico's suggestions to sink in. His mind spun in a whirlpool of troubled emotions. He felt conflicted, knowing his situation was critical. His life was now coming to a fork in the road—decisions had to be made. No doubt, the eloquent Don understood the necessity of medicine among the Mexican-American people, especially in this isolated area where no doctors existed.

  He also understood that the Don was no fool and probably knew more than he was expressing, understanding the love he had for Victoria, and the feeling Victoria had for him. Love was stronger than any other force. Juan's instincts told him that Don Federico had read their gestures—their body language had betrayed them. Their electricity was so strong that even an illiterate person could understand and feel it, and yet it had become a self-inflicting torture for him each time they had an encounter.

  He was willing to do anything for the Don. And this was his chance to be close to Victoria, knowing that little Luis was actually his child—his son. He curbed his impatience, only for the opportunity to see Victoria and his boy. And no, he was not going to marry Magdalena, at least not now. She was only a front. She was only a puppet, a convenient replacement. And yet, what the Don had said was right, he was only trying to help him to better himself. Perhaps the Don had a vision of the future with them all together. Living here in Mercedes! But what about Ricardo, where did he fit into the picture?

  Juan amiably replied, "I'll give you my answer next week."

  CHAPTER 29

  Within the next several weeks, telegrams flooded the law enforcement offices, bombarding the major border towns of Brownsville, Harlingen, and McAllen, and as far north as Rio Grande City and El Paso, with the threatening news of an invasion. All law enforcement offices in small towns, as well as the Texas Rangers, became aware of possible raids. All of the United States senators and state representatives of the bordering states and the governor of Texas had been informed. U.S. Marshal Bishop responded with messages to thank Don Federico for his concern. Bishop informed him that officials on the Texas side were aware of mysterious activities and that all secret agents were on the lookout for any possible suspects on both sides of the Rio Grande. Bishop also notified Don Federico that the information about the Germans was correct, and many of them were already living among the Mexican-American citizens on the Texas side. Don Federico had candidly asked Captain Marshall Bishop in his last message: "Any word on Hanson? Does anyone know where he is?" Bishop had replied back that his two United States Deputy Marshals were having trouble locating him in Mexico and were unsure where he was.

  Meanwhile, Juan had decided to abandon his military career in Mexico. He took Don Federico's safe suggestion and seized the opportunity to gain a wonderful career at the Don's expense. This was his opening to learn new medical research that was needed in Mexico, where so many deadly diseases ran rampant. He began taking classes at a small university in Houston and would come to the Rio Grande Valley on different occasions as a guest of Emma or Don Federico.

  This action made Ricardo furious. He realized that Don Federico was playing favoritism by paying Juan's expenses, and it was also beginning to confirm his suspicions about Juan and Victoria. Both he and his mother had noticed how Victoria acted when she was in Juan's presence, and they had picked up on how spontaneously jovial and witty she would be, trying to impress the young doctor. Magdalena was hurt and felt out of place, as Juan never mentioned marriage. This left both families wondering just what Juan's real intentions were.

  According to Victoria, Doña Adela's magic had worked, and her prediction was being fulfilled. The year 1914 had seen World War I break out in Europe; Henry Ford was offering his workers in Detroit five dollars a day for labor; the Panama Canal finally opened to shipping traffic, leaving over 30,000 casualties; Mahatma Gandhi returned home to India after living in South Africa and began a non-violent campaign against the hated British. In eleven states, it saw the start of the women's rights movement, and women had finally won full voting rights, prompting Congress to declare the second Sunday in May as "Mother's Day."

  Well into 1915, most of the talk among the communities and newspapers was about the growing intensity of the war in Europe. The British navy had attacked a German U-boat hauling supplies to Russia on the Black Sea. The Mexican war along the border had escalated. Suspicions of spies were everywhere, as German U-boats were seen along the Gulf of Mexico on the Texas side. The average person expected a full invasion.

  Perhaps 1915 was the climactic year in the battle against the injustice that had been showing its ugly face to the Mexican-American citizens living along the Rio Grande. It was the beginning of a reign of terror and turbulent conditions for every person living on both sides of the river.

  In the middle of January, an arrest was made in McAllen, Texas, of one Basilio Ramos, who was carrying suspicious classified documents. Charges were made by the Department of Justice against Ramos for being a conspirator. Don Federico's friend, Marshall Bishop, with his special agent, took Ramos to Brownsville Federal Jail to await his trial. Ramos did not have money to make bail. A telegram was sent to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio to Major General Frederick Funston, who had been keeping a watchful eye on the conditions at the border. Ramos's documents indicated organized meetings among the Mexican-American people pertaining to a Mexican uprising. Panic ensued, especially among the Mexican-American people, the majority of whom were innocent of any wrongdoing. The relatives and friends of Ramos spread the news of his arrest like wildfire among the Mexican-American families throughout the border.

  "The Plan of San Diego," as it was called, since the document originated in San Diego, Texas, created confusion on the border, for nothing was revealed to the public regarding its contents and gruesome details. Don Federico, knowing of the secret plan, kept his eye on the newspaper to find out more of what was taking place, but little information was given out. Within two weeks, the Don received a telegram from Captain Marshall Bishop, telling him that other meetings were interrupted; one especially in Laredo, Texas, but Bishop also suggested that the judges were looking at the documents as a joke, saying that it was only a visionary scheme among lunatics. They discarded them as insignificant. Bishop wrote that he wanted to have a word with Don Federico, and asked if he would be willing to have dinner with him and Judge Barnes in Brownsville. The Don's reply was "yes." He would let him know of his arrival ahead of time since he would be traveling by train.

  The exiled ex-president of Mexico, Huerta, had stayed in Spain and England and wished to return to Mexico with a plan to overthrow his enemies and set up a pro-German government. Huerta was deeply involved with the spy, Franz von Schmidt, who had been a close friend of El General Del Calderóne. Huerta wanted the Kaiser to finance his return to Mexico to become president. Unknown to anyone, Del Calderóne had also been in hiding, staying in Matamoros. He wanted to take control of his military career, but he needed the backup of strong allies. Del Calderóne had been secretly corresponding with Huerta through telegrams, informing him through assumed names, of the appropriate time to sail back home. Together they could form a conspiracy against Carranza and Villa and regain their power.

  In another clandestine scheme, Carranza ordered General Nafarrate to advance his career by organizing raids on the Texas side of the border, keeping the military of the Americanos occupied, and eventually acknowledging Carranza for the presidency. Nafarrate, who was ambitious by nature, went along since his dream was to make Matamoros the capit
al of the state of Tamaulipas, of which he would be governor. The plot had thickened, becoming a triangle, an intriguing conspiracy, with many actors taking part in the "devil's schemes." With Villa and Zapata fighting against Carranza and Obregón, Huerta thought he could step in and take control of the Mexican presidency.

  The following week, Don Federico and Fred took the train to Brownsville. The meeting with Captain Marshall Bishop and several federal court judges took place in a lavish Elizabeth Street restaurant. A heavy, balding, white-haired federal judge by the name of Thomas Barnes, wearing thick bifocals, had joined them and did most of the talking. His idea was to name the Don as an "Ambassador of Goodwill." His job would be to calm and appease the turbulent situation between Mexico and the United States. Judge Barnes already had the approval of the governor of Texas. The Judge mentioned that the Don had all of the qualifications they needed: a man of integrity who was well educated and bilingual. Don Federico would have an office in Mercedes and Brownville and would do some long-distance traveling to Mexico, when the occasion arose, with all expenses paid. The Don had to document and record his work and could have his own secretary if it were necessary. It took some time before Don Federico was able to concentrate on the idea. He finally replied, "I am not looking for a job, but if it will help relations with both our countries, I'll give it serious thought and consideration. I'll give you my answer as soon as possible."

  While in Brownsville, he decided to visit his lawyer friend, Tomas Canalo, whose family name went way back to the first arrival of affluent Spanish blood. Canalo was a refined Texas-Mexican vaquero, with the charm of a sociable South Texas intellect. He called himself a refined Tejano and a rebel. He had studied law in Dallas and was well liked by the local citizenry, especially the Mexican-Americans who were discriminated against most all the time. He was disliked by the local white judges, who ruled and controlled the city, and he was often in and out of courts trying to defend Mexican landowner rights. Canalo was of medium size, stout in stature, and perhaps around the same age as the Don, in his mid-fifties, with a light complexion and salt and pepper hair. He always wore stylish clothes, with a Stetson hat and alligator boots. He could out-talk anyone on any subject regardless of place and time, and he loved to argue, always having the last word. When he spoke, it was always with an accent, mixed with both Spanish and English phrases, and he waved his hands and made facial expressions convey his thoughts.

  "Hola! Don Federico, what a surprise! How are you, mí amigo?" He said, extending his hand. "I haven't seen you since your daughter's birthday party!" He moved his hand to Don Federico's shoulder. "Sorry to hear about your wife—she was a lovely person." Then, eyeing Fred up and down, he asked, "Who is this with you, your oldest hijo? I remember seeing him when he was a young boy. He has really gotten big!"

  "Yes, you remember my son, Fred," said the Don. Canalo and Fred shook hands.

  "You're going to be a tall man," Canalo said. "Going to be an attorney, I'll bet!"

  "Well, we sure can use good lawyers. We need smart Mexican men to handle the Mexican-American relations across the border and with Los gringos situation. Es una chinga, how they mistreat the Mexican people here."

  Fred giggled, trying to control his genuine laughter. His face flushed, but he managed to respond with confidence. "I'm going to study medicine and be a doctor."

  "Ah! Un doctor! Muy Bien, a great profession!" Canalo waved his hand, inviting the two visitors into his small cramped office. Taking a seat at his desk piled high with papers, Canalo leaned back in his black leather chair and turned to address Don Federico.

  "What brings you to Brownsville?"

  "I'm here on business with U.S. Marshal Bishop and Judge Barnes," replied the Don.

  Canalo's demeanor changed and he became more professional. "Talked with Judge Barnes, did you? Does it have to do with the Ramos case? There are eight poor Mexicans locked up in the federal jail here, awaiting a federal grand jury coming up in the near future. Judge Barnes es un Viejo that I do not trust—he is a confirmed Mexican-hater. He doesn't like me because I stand up for the poor Mexicans."

  "No! Not the Ramos case. I'm here for other reasons. Captain Bishop and Judge Barnes offered me a job to help out with the Mexican-American relations on both sides of the river. Another issue is the Texas Ranger, Hanson. The other reason is, questioning the disturbing rumors about Mexico invading Texas with the help of the Germans."

  "The Mexicans and Germans invading Texas?" inquired Canalo, obviously shocked. "Well! They can have it if they can put up with all the problems the Mexican-American people have here with the gringos!" He laughed and then stopped for a moment considering the situation. "Now that I think of it, there has been the talk of seeing U-boats out in the Gulf. I don't think anybody is paying much attention. I do not see what the problem is with the Germans, but they are crawling all over in Mexico. And what did you say about a job offer?"

  "They want me to be an ambassador to Mexico to help our strained relations," replied Don Federico.

  "Excellent!" responded Canalo. "And how did you meet Marshall Bishop?" he questioned, becoming a little envious because he had not been offered the position. "He's a Northerner and is making his authority known quite strongly with the other authorities in the federal courts."

  Don Federico summarized the charges he had filed with the state legislators in Austin naming Ranger Hanson in the death of his father, and explaining the hiring of the Pinkerton detective a couple of years prior. He continued, "Several months later, Captain Bishop showed up at my door asking me questions."

  Canalo listened intently. "Did they find the body of the Pinkerton man? Anybody witness his death?"

  "No!" Don Federico said, shaking his head.

  "I'll tell you, my friend, nothing is going to be done. Without a body, nobody can prove anything—it's all speculation. Canalo frowned as he straightened in his chair and folded his arms on his desk, looking serious. "The Pinkerton Agency is the one who needs to file charges and force the issue and begin pressing hard for an investigation against Hanson if they have any evidence. But without evidence, nothing is going to get done. The Pinkerton Agency knows that."

  "The Pinkerton Agency has all of the information they need. They also have sworn statements of what took place. Even Howard Ale confessed that Hanson killed my father. What about José Esquibel's death? What about my father's death? Can nothing be done?"

  "I'm afraid not, mí amigo! Not unless Hanson readily admits in writing that he did all the killing, but you know he's not going to. And nobody respects the testimony of any Mexican. They believe we all think alike, and that we are bound together by the white people. What we are dealing with is that most of the Mexican people are illiterate. We are dealing with a superstitious culture, and traditions, and a race of people who do not want to change to better themselves, and the white men know that, too. At the risk of repeating myself, nobody is going to go against the word of a law enforcement officer. Remember that!"

  "Hanson is a murderer and a thief, and the Mexican-American people have no rights in this state," the Don answered, disheartened at the injustice to his father and the other victims.

  "Very little to no laws represent them," Canalo replied. "We have few Mexican attorneys in the Valley. We also have Mexican-Tejanos, here in Brownsville, stirring the waves, by the name of Aniceto Pizaña, and two more by the name of Augustin Garza and Luis De la Rosa, trying to fight the injustices perpetrated against the Mexican-American people. They distribute copies of their party's platform, the Army of the Liberation Party, but the authorities, especially the Texas Rangers, are watching them like a hawk. The Mexican-American citizen gets blamed for anything that happens. I have several cases of property unfairly taken by white men, and several cases of Mexican-American families being killed. The Liberation Party has asked me to join, but I have so much to do and will stick to dealing with legalities."

  "Perhaps I should have run for office," the Don said with a sigh. "But maybe I
can make a difference with the Ambassadorship, as U.S. Marshal Bishop and Judge Barnes have suggested."

  "Ah! Good idea, good for our Raza," praised Canalo. "We need Mexican-American representatives in Texas state politics. You'd be an excellent person to represent them. Remember, by taking on the position the judge promised you, it could be your chance. You could make a difference. I've been fighting for years to become a judge, but I've been unsuccessful. The gringos have too much control over us, because of our ‘roots of Indifference.’ I've tried to win cases for the Mexicans. I win a few but most of the time, I lose. You have to remember that the people on the jury are mostly white. Es una chinga! It's always a losing battle, but I'm not backing off. This is our land, too, and I’m fighting for our traditions and our dignity. I'm learning and keeping up with the new laws all the time."

  "Good for you! We can't have our wonderful traditions and culture taken away, and we can't give up on our citizens' rights," repeated the Don. "But, we do need to fight for justice through negotiations and through education, not by waging war."

  "So tell me, what is Bishop going to do with Hanson?" asked Canalo, with some apprehension. "I heard that Hobbs was killed in Mexico. How true that is, I do not know for sure, but if Hobbs is dead, he cannot testify against Hanson. Nobody can do anything with Hanson until he is caught. And even if they find him, they cannot prove anything without a body. He can deny everything. All they have on Hanson is leaving his official post as a Texas Ranger. Rumors are that he's become a renegade, running contraband liquor and guns across the border, in cahoots with other Rangers. I hear all of his possessions were confiscated by the Mexican government—a large estate was taken. He deserved what he got. He was a real bastardo to the Mexican people."

  "I'll let Bishop handled that situation. He's receiving good wages in his investigations against the murderer," Don Federico answered bitterly. "I need to take a hard look at the job they offered me. If I accept the office, I'll give it my best."