TRIP TO CALIFORNIA: NIGHT IN EL PASO

TRIP TO CALIFORNIA: NIGHT IN EL PASO
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

MY FIRST TRIP TO CALIFORNIA WAS BY TRAIN AND ONE THAT WILL LIVE IN MEMORY OF AUNT MARY AND GLORIA'S DESCENDANTS FOREVER...

ESSAY ABOUT A NIGHT IN JUAREZ BY R.L. HUFFSTUTTER

HEADED WEST TOWARD THE GOLDEN STATE ON THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC'S PASSENGER TRAIN, THE GOLDEN STATE, OR IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE SANTA FE, I CAN'T RECALL FOR SURE, BUT I WAS HEADED WEST. WHEN IT STOPPED IN EL PASO, I KNEW I COULD MAKE MY SUMMER TRIP A BIT MORE EXCITING IF I COULD JUST DELAY MY JOURNEY FOR A DAY, VISIT OLD MEXICO, JUAREZ, BUT EVERYONE CALLED MEXICO "OLD MEXICO" BACK THEN. I GUESS IT WAS TO DISTINGUISH IT FROM "NEW MEXICO." AND BY THE WAY, I RECALL WHEN BOTH ALASKA AND HAWAII BECAME STATES. I WAS COLLECTING STAMPS THEN AND PURCHASED BLOCKS OF FOUR, BUT THAT IS NOT PRUDENT TO THIS STORY OF MY FIRST NIGHT IN MEXICO. WHAT BECAME PRUDENT, HOWEVER, WAS THE RESTRAINED AND SLIGHTLY HESITANT WELCOME I RECEIVED AT THE UNION STATION IN LOS ANGLES UPON MY ARRIVAL, EXACTLY 24 HOURS LATE, OR LATER, DEPENDING UPON HOW ONE LIKES TO RATIONALIZE ONE'S BEHAVIOR AND IRRESPONSIBILITY.

AUNT MARY AND GLORIA WERE NOT IMPRESSED BY MY EXCUSE FOR ARRIVING LATE. IT COULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN OFF AS ONE OF THE FIRES OF SPRING THAT LINGERED INTO SUMMER, BUT NEITHER MARIETTA OR GLORIA HAD A SENSE OF HUMOR.SADLY, OUR KINSHIP ENDED SHORTLY THEREAFTER. WHEN GLORIA'S HUSBAND, JACK, ASSUMED I WANTED TO WORK TWELVE HOUR DAYS AT HIS SHRIMP BOAT DRIVE IN, WE PARTED COMPANY AND I FOUND NEW FRIENDS IN VENICE, CALLED VENICE WEST IN THE LATE 50S. THAT WAS THE LAST TIME I SAW MARIETTA, GLORIA OR JACK. IF AUNT MARIETTA IS STILL LIVING, SHE WOULD BE GETTING CLOSE TO BEING ONE HUNDRED YEARS OLD. FAMILIES JUST DRIFT APART.
MY TRIP ACROSS THE BORDER WAS FUN. IT WAS WRONG. IF I COULD DO IT OVER AGAIN, I WOULDN'T; I CAUSED SOME FAMILY MEMBERS TOO MUCH GRIEF BY DROPPING OUT OF SIGHT FOR 24 HOURS. BUT THAT WAS JUST THE BEGINNING OF MY DISAPPEARING ACTS AS TIME ACCELERATED. NOW, IN RETROSPECT, THERE IS MUCH I WOULD UNDO IF I COULD. I CAN'T, THUS IT HAUNTS ME AT CERTAIN TIMES, THOSE TIMES BEING THE TIMES WHEN I WAKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND FEEL LIKE I HAVE JUST BEEN VISITING WITH AN AUNT OR AN UNCLE, ALWAYS ONE HAS BEEN LONG DECEASED. I DOUBT I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO IS VISITED BY DEAD UNCLES AND AUNTS ON A REGULAR BASIS.
THE CONDUCTOR GRINNED WHEN I ASKED HIM IF I COULD CATCH THE TRAIN THE NEXT DAY. "SONNY, YOU SURE CAN, JUST BE HERE AT THE SAME TOMORROW."
ONCE OUTSIDE THE STATION, I HAILED A TAXI TO THE BORDER. I MUST HAVE LOOKED LIKE THE FOOL I WAS WITH TWO SUITCASES, WALKING OVER THE BRIDGE. "CHICLETS, CHICLETS, MISTER, JUST ONE NICKEL," THE STREET CHILDREN, MOSTLY BOYS, HAWKED THEIR PRODUCT. ONCE AT THE END OF THE BRIDGE I FELT LIKE I HAD MADE A SERIOUS FOREIGN JOURNEY. FINALLY, ANOTHER COUNTRY. JAMES BALDWIN TURNED THAT INTO A BESTSELLER IN THE 60S. IT WAS GOOD. I UNDERSTOOD HIS SPIRIT OR THOUGHT I DID.