Roots of Indifferences

by Terri Ragsdale

  On a dreary, rainy day in early April, Otto Foster was arrested escaping into Mexico in a horse-drawn wagon, with several trunks full of his possessions. Special agents from the Agriculture Department, secret agents, and some Texas Rangers searched Foster's residence and found radio transmissions with letters and coding, all in the German language. Many papers indicated several plots and contracts with German spies across the river, and coding to U-boats out in the Gulf of Mexico. Otto Foster's bug greenhouse, which had been left wide open, was subsequently destroyed, but it appeared that all of the insects had been turned loose to destroy the cotton crops in the Valley. Otto's prized horses were gone, his workers had disappeared, and his place was left vacant.

  The news became sensational and threatening to the citizens of Mercedes. Having marauding bandits, lynchings, and killings was bad enough, but having German spies in their own backyard was dangerous and even more unspeakable. The newspaper had gotten word that information had been leaked to authorities regarding Otto's insect experiments. Everyone in town wanted to know who the individual was who had discovered the plot, and Otto's two daughters began asking questions about the informer. Fred never confessed.

  Three days later, secret agents arrested three German-Americans in Mercedes on the basis that they were collaborating with the Germans and charged them with treason, one of whom was Howard Ale. The Ale's household was searched and ransacked. Emma was so beside herself with shame that she became physically ill; she took to her bedroom, locked the door, and would not eat. The twins were in total shock and refused to go to school. Felicia, seven months pregnant and living with her parents, turned to Don Federico and James for advice. She hated Howard Ale, but hated even worse the shame her mother was enduring, especially with all of the wagging tongues in the community.

  The concerned Mercedes Chamber of Commerce passed an ordinance that no German language was to be spoken in the town or schools, including public or private places, and that it was also illegal to trade or lecture in the language used by the enemy. The Lutheran Church services that were conducted in German now had to be spoken in English. Anyone caught speaking the German language was arrested and suspected of being a spy; everyone was walking on eggshells.

  Don Federico and James intervened with the federal courts on behalf of Howard Ale. They spoke to Captain Bishop, and Judge Barnes in Brownville, but were told the processing took time and there was nothing they could do but wait. Ale was charged with treason, and it could mean death. Meanwhile, he was in a federal cell, nervously chewing his fingernails and claiming chest pains.

  Within months, Howard Ale died of a supposed heart attack, but the reports were left unclear as to the actual cause of his death. While going through the torment and shame of her husband's accusation of being disloyal to his country, Emma had lost fifty pounds. But the community opened their arms to her and the twins, bringing food, and cards and letters of condolence, for she was well thought of, having been involved in all kinds of community services, helping people however she could, teaching the Anglo women Spanish, and donating to charities.

  Within the next two months, Felicia, so distressed, gave birth to a six-pound baby boy and named him Steven Allen Land; Emma was beside herself with joy.

  In the month of June, several horrible incidents took place. A group of American Army soldiers were swimming with their horses near La Feria pumps. One of the soldiers slipped and drowned, and while making the search for the drowned soldier, a lieutenant in charge of the group crossed the river. The lieutenant was murdered and two of the soldiers, who went looking for their commander across the border, were taken prisoners by the Carranzistas.

  Telegram reports were sent to Brownsville immediately by El Guapo James, and he and Don Federico were called to intercede. Many hours were spent with the Carranzista officials, and finally they obtained and returned the body of the young lieutenant. The other two soldiers, who had been roughed up by the Carranzistas, were grateful to be back at Camp Llano Grande.

  Carranza soldiers and revolutionists battled on the Texas side of the river close to Progresso later that same month, and over fifty men were reported killed. Apparently there had been a train robbery in which over sixty thousand dollars in gold had been taken. The gold was never recovered.

  The headlines again brought a shocker: Czar Nicholas II and the rest of Russia's royal family had been executed by the Bolsheviks.

  As the year progressed, the plight of the Mexican-Americans grew considerably worse. They called this period in time, Hora de Sangre, the Bloody Hour, because the Texas Rangers would shoot and kill innocent Mexican-American men who were supposedly mistaken for Mexican bandits. There was a tremendous wall of fear between the two nationalities, such that the white Anglo citizen was advised to stay away from the Mexican-American barrios.

  Eventually, after several quiet months of no killing, lynching, or shooting incidents, it appeared that peace was finally coming to the Valley. People were hopeful the war with the Germans was ending as well, for there was the talk of negotiations.

  John and Jamie graduated from high school and began making preparations for the University of Texas at Austin.

  Ricardo returned from Mexico, making his presence known, and claimed his percentage of the cotton sales. With his pockets full of money, he would splurge in the red light district with wild women and liquor across the river. He was living in Matamoros part of the time and returned to Monterrey trying to reclaim his property, hoping to resume the lifestyle in which he was raised. He would visit his mother and sister in Mercedes but only stayed for a week. He saw Yolanda and then departed again, knowing with confidence that Don Federico would take care of his family.

  Ricardo did not assume any responsibility of spending time with his newborn daughter. Victoria's spine would stiffen when he was around, and she continually wished him dead. On his last visit, he ordered Victoria to get his dinner ready, and Victoria asked the kitchen servants to fix it for him. He then became hateful and insulted the servants on their cooking. He spat his food out, accusing them of trying to poison him, and threw his plate clear across the room.

  Poison! Victoria's thoughts began taking an evil turn. Not a bad idea!

  At the same time, la Señora Del Calderóne and Ricardo's sister walked in to see the new granddaughter, the baby Aaron, and little Luis Martin. They stood in awe seeing Ricardo angry, brushing himself off with the table napkin, and food and broken china scattered all over the dining room. Servants were busy picking up the debris, and others were on their knees with damp cloths, wiping up the tile floor. "Ricardo!" his mother said, in exasperation.

  Don Federico, who heard the commotion from his office, walked into the kitchen and viewed the disastrous atmosphere. "What happened here?" he asked. "What's going on?"

  It was Ricardo who spoke. "This food is terrible!" he scoffed. "Pigs might enjoy this food, but I don't!" He continued belittling and insulting the Juelson clan.

  It did not set well with Don Federico, who was already fed up with la Señora Del Calderóne, who complained all the time and had become a pain in his side. He also resented her comments ridiculing Victoria's children, as if his daughter had the children all by herself. And Ricardo was never home, never a father, and to this day had never considered supporting them.

  "Are you saying that the food is not to your liking?" said the Don, irritated. He crossed his arms over his chest, and addressed the egotistical ass that was his son-in-law. He was completely disgusted with both Ricardo and his father, El General.

  Ricardo stood up and demanded a better quality of food. Victoria stood there holding her baby, with Fred, Carlos, El Guapo, all of the kitchen servants, and Señora Hinojosa now observing the skirmish.

  "We all had the same meal earlier. And nobody is dead—nobody got sick. If you expect a better meal, then why don't you go buy the food fresh and have the servants fix it for you?" The Don’s voice was rising in anger.

  Ricardo gasped. His mother was dumbstruck
and put little Luis down. His sister was stunned.

  "No need to be shocked!" Don Federico answered hotly, staring at Ricardo and the rest of the Del Calderóne clan. "Don't you think it's about time you started being a father to your children and started supporting them like a real man supports his family? You find the time to be away and have all of your financial business across the border. Sounds strange, don't you think? You seem to enjoy your marriage as a regular bachelor! Demanding and giving out orders as if you owned this home and the world. Your attitude stinks! Who do you think you are? You act like you have a corncob up your ass. Your time of being single—being a playboy—is over!"

  "Why support bastards!" Ricardo's nasty remark cut like a knife into flesh.

  "Ricardo!" Señora Del Calderóne's voice rang out. "How can you say such a thing?"

  "Why sure, Mother!" he snapped. "Haven't the Juelsons told you the real story?" He turned his attention to his mother and sister who stood stunned. "Don't you remember how they were in such a hurry for us to get married? Well! It was because Victoria was already pregnant! Long time family friends—huh! They were using us! I was set up! It was real convenient for their cover-up."

  Señora Del Calderóne found a chair and sat down next to the table. Her forehead rested on her left hand and with her right, she held a handkerchief to her face. Magdalena's countenance was drained of color. She went toward her mother and began comforting her by patting her back. Señora Hinojosa picked up little Luis and walked out of the dining room to her upstairs bedroom. El Guapo excused himself and went to his quarters. Fred and Carlos stood wide-eyed, mouths open, feeling the explosion from the military cannon was coming any minute now. Fire and brimstone—the truth was coming out!

  "So, little Luis Martin is not our grandson," cried Señora Del Calderóne. "What about little Maria Theresa?"

  Victoria screamed at Ricardo. "You know darn well that little Maria Theresa is your daughter! What an excuse to keep away and not be responsible. Who do you think you are?"

  "As for little Maria Theresa being my daughter, I do not know that!" he said, thus excusing himself and leaving him without any responsibilities.

  Señora Del Calderóne started to cry. "I cannot believe this! I cannot believe that my comadre, Doña Francisca, would lie to me. I knew there was something wrong with this marriage all along, but I could not put my finger on what was happening. I wish that my husband was here to witness all of this."

  "Wait a minute!" Don Federico interjected. "Who is using who? Let's get the story straight, before we go any further. Ricardo has known all along the true story. We have discussed the situation and both agreed." The Don proceeded to detail their previous agreement and described the final resolution of Ricardo receiving half of the cotton money. Ricardo had accepted it to stay in the marriage. But Ricardo had overstepped his bounds and had taken advantage of the situation.

  Don Federico also revealed to la Señora Del Calderóne: "As for your husband, Señora, he is very much alive and well, living very comfortably dealing covertly with the Germans in Matamoros and getting rich. Why, hasn't Ricardo told you?"

  Señora Del Calderóne walked over to Ricardo. "You have known? You have always known where your father was hiding? Have you kept it away from me? For shame! Why?"

  Ricardo never moved. They all knew the Don was telling the truth. La Señora slapped her son across the face several times, her anger raging. "You've been with your father all this time and have never said anything to me, while your sister and I have struggled? What kind of a son are you?"

  Victoria's face lit up with an exultant feeling of triumph; perhaps now her mother-in-law would realize what kind of a son she really had. He had never been a husband or a father. However, the Calderónes had never liked Victoria, regardless of the outcome of the marriage relationship. She was glad her father had finally exposed Ricardo's true character.

  La Señora Del Calderóne cursed, saying hateful words. She cursed the ground in Mercedes, the entire area, the people, and their unsophisticated customs, and said she wished she were back living in Monterrey. The two women walked out of the house, Magdalena's arm around the shoulders of her terribly distraught mother, leaving Ricardo embarrassed and red-faced.

  In spite of all of the commotion, the selfish Ricardo, without saying a word, rubbed his cheeks and picked up his hat and left. Victoria assumed he probably went to visit the insatiable Yolanda at Spanish Acres, since they were both alike, and she was more likely to feed him. He had money in his pocket, a hatred of not getting his way, and a ruthless ambition to get rich.

  No sooner said than done in cursing the peaceful area, in the fall of that year soldiers throughout the military posts started dying from a germ the Anglos called the "flu." Since the majority of the people were of Mexican ancestry, they called it "Spanish influenza." Families with children became victims of the deadly virus; it was already interwoven with the spread of a deadly whooping cough epidemic. The children and the old were particularly vulnerable, regardless of race or color. According to the rumors, it came from the many soldiers returning home from the war in Europe and ended up in a military post in Kansas. The soldiers were then being reassigned to the post in the Valley where emergency guards on the border were needed.

  It became a worldwide epidemic. Hundreds and thousands of families became sick. People were afraid to touch each other or embrace, and heaven forbids, kiss, for fear of catching the virus. Schools, churches, and businesses were closed, social events canceled; people could not work and the economy suffered a drastic loss. The traffic crossing the river between the two countries became less, and business began to suffer.

  People from the churches began saying that it was a curse from God. With the Great War raging in Europe and so many dying now with the flu, the world was surely coming to an end. The community began praying. Perhaps this was what God intended all along, and in the end a blessing, many would say. Nevertheless, millions died throughout the world, and in the Valley, many hundreds passed away. The influenza epidemic was unlike anything was seen in world history since the Black Plague. The only profitable commodity was caskets—they couldn't make them fast enough.

  There was no Christmas celebration that year. Communities did not make social contact with each other for fear of contracting the disease. Multiple caskets were shipped by a train carrying the bodies of dead soldiers to their home destinations. Hundreds of caskets became a problem in the crowded cemeteries, for even in death, there was discrimination—where to bury the bodies? The Mexicans were buried in their own section and the whites in theirs.

  Fred had been warned; he was forbidden to visit any of the military camps or the medical soldiers. Emma and Felicia stayed away from everyone as long as possible, not socializing at all. Word was sent to Don Federico that one of the flu victims had been Miss Bell, the piano teacher.

  Fortunately, by the coming of the new year, the scare was over.

  CHAPTER 34

  The year of 1919 rolled in with newspaper headlines proclaiming "Prohibition," banning the manufacturing, sale, and transportation of alcohol with the ratification of the Eighteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, to take effect in 1920. This, of course, was a joke. No levelheaded, macho individual close to the border was going to stop drinking alcohol! And no one did. Contraband liquor from Mexico became profitable. Drinking was done privately. Jazz was born, and up north there was a new generation of unconventional, daring women called "flappers," with changing hairstyles, and dresses that were looser and shorter.

  Just when everyone thought the racial hostilities were dying down, there came another scandal of nineteen charges of misconduct and indictments against the Loyalty Texas Rangers. It was estimated that over 5,000 Mexican-Americans were killed by the Rangers between 1914 and 1919, but there were many more deaths that were not recorded. Millions of dollars in property and merchandise were destroyed in the unrest during this time. The Texas legislature formed a joint House-Senate Committee to look into
the charges, headed by Don Federico's friend, Tomas Canalo, who had compelling evidence of atrocities against the Mexican-American people. Canalo received death threats from several Texas Rangers, especially Ranger Frank Horner. His hatred toward Canalo became so abhorrent that Texas Governor Hobby had to intervene with legal restraint.

  Many ranchers and business owners of Mexican-American descent throughout the Valley were called to testify against the Loyalty Rangers, with testimonies that lasted over two weeks. Each told his own story of the injustices toward their families and neighbors and of the many sordid acts of brutality by the Texas Rangers that they had witnessed.

  One of them was Don Federico, who accused the Rangers of taking advantage of the governor's pardon and of abusing their oath. He told the committee that the Rangers took advantage of their appointed authority and acted more like vigilante squads. Because of their ‘roots of indifference,’ thousands of innocent Mexican families suffered, and many of them fled the area for fear of being killed. The city of Brownsville already saw growing opposition to the Texas Rangers, which reached a climax in this sweeping legislative investigation, although it raised an uproar among some Anglo citizens who had forgotten the true meaning of democracy.

  In the end, and as a result of so many eyewitness testimonies, the State of Texas found it necessary to abolish the Loyalty Texas Rangers, thus closing for the moment a "black era" in history for its Mexican-American citizens. The Texas legislature reduced their forces and recruited individuals of higher standards, increasing their pay and establishing a new force with new orders of enforcement. All so-called special Ranger groups were disbanded, and the force was reduced to a group of fifteen high-quality officers. Citizens would have the right to articulate complaints against the Rangers regarding any further abuses or misdeeds. However, mistrust of the Rangers never left the Mexican-American community.