June 5, 2013: Freshly Raped Children from Mex. Border Rancher Ed Ashurst

Freshly Raped Children

Being Able to Survive Doesn’t Make it Okay

 

The number of times a group of illegal aliens came to our house asking for help is a number I cannot remember. It would be, without a doubt, in the hundreds. Most of them were polite. Occasionally, one or a group would be aggressive, even demanding, and a few downright arrogant and disrespectful. Most of them were lost, many times asking where Phoenix was located and when told that Phoenix was over those mountains 250 miles away they were astonished. Many of them had been told by their guides, known as coyotes, that Phoenix was within walking distance three or four hours away.

The volume of humanity that came by was simply overwhelming; you just couldn’t handle that many people. If you helped all of them by feeding everyone who asked for it, the word would get out on the amazing underground communication system, which was and still is in effect, and you would be flooded by even more. We would always give them water, but gave them food sparingly, simply because we did not want to be known as an easy meal. We always called the Border Patrol and many times they would be picked up before leaving the premises.

One day about midday three illegals approached the house, a young man and two women. The young man was in his mid-twenties, the older of the women, about the same age. The other female was probably in her late teens. I called the Border Patrol and went out to talk to them.

The young man was dirty from wandering around in the desert for several days, but very handsome and well dressed, and had an intelligent bearing. His wife was the same and they both spoke some English. The younger girl was movie star good looking. She turned out be the older woman’s younger sister.

The two oldest did all the talking and asked if I could give them a ride, and if they could possibly use the telephone. I declined their requests but told them I would get them a bite to eat and something to drink and I went back into the house.

Expecting the Border Patrol to show up at any minute, I returned outside where I had left them by the yard gate and gave them some sandwiches and a large bottle of water. They asked again to use my phone and I refused, but they were very polite and quite articulate so I stood there by the fence and talked to them. They told me they had been in the States before: the young man in Texas and the older woman in Virginia. They were headed for New York City where the young man’s mother was. They wanted to use my phone to talk to her. Days before, upon arriving in Agua Prieta they hired a coyote to guide them north. They believed he would provide safe passage all the way to Interstate 10 near San Simon or Lordsburg. Instead he stayed with them an hour or so, pointed them north and abandoned them. That would have been at least 65 miles south of the Interstate in a wild, wide open country. He had charged them $1500. apiece, $4500. total and, in reality, they had received nothing in return.

I asked them how much money they had left, and they dug down in their pockets and managed to come up with about $23. and some change. The older woman began to cry, not in a hysterical or showy way, instead with no sound or convulsions, just tears. She asked if I had called the Border Patrol. I replied that I had and I expected them any minute. She made one more short plea for help and then just stood there looking at me. The movie star said nothing only staring and then the four us sat on top of the cement block wall saying nothing for several minutes.

I wondered where La Raza was when you needed them. I wondered what they would have to say to the cowardly, brown-skinned coyote who makes his fortune raping the poor innocents like these sitting on my yard fence staring at me. I wondered why they spend their time carrying picket signs in front of capitol buildings in places like Sacramento and Phoenix instead of doing something useful like going to Agua Prieta and hunting down the coyote and hanging him by the neck with a piece of rope in the middle of the town plaza.

“Get in!” I exclaimed. I loaded them up in my pick-up and turned up a dirt road that goes north from my house toward Lordsburg. They wanted to go to New York City: 2337 miles away. I wrote down the mother’s telephone number and after going a mile and a half from my house I stopped and unloaded them and pointed toward Lordsburg 65 miles distance and wished them good luck.

I had promised the young man that I would call his mother, which I did. At first she seemed confused, but as apprehension melded with nervous reality questions flowed from her mouth with the speed of sound. She wanted to know if they were safe and where they were. I told her to get a map and find Lordsburg, New Mexico. “They are 65 miles south of there, and they don’t have a chance in hell,” and then I hung up. I was disgusted.

The Border Patrol arrived several minutes after I got back to the house. I told them that the aliens had walked off to the west. On top of all my other faults, I am a liar.

 

                                                                        Ed Ashurst

                                                                        Apache, Arizona