American.
In the years leading up to the 1939 official start of WW II, my Grandfather Benjamin, (a jeweler in Vienna) shipped my mother and her two siblings ahead to New York City. Later on Bennie arrived minus his wife/my mother’s mother. The “why” behind this event is and shall remain a Sambur family mystery. I’m positive it’s not a feel good story.
My father immigrated to New York in 1937. He said goodbye to his family in Poland. He never saw any of them alive again.
When people ask me about all of this, I wave it off as “Holocaust Stuff.”
Yet what is “Holocaust Stuff” to the progeny of the Holocaust survivors?
It’s about immigration to another land with little more than memories, the clothes on your back and a piece of luggage.
So it’s no stretch of the imagination to say, I posses an inordinate amount of empathy for immigrants. My parents ability to escape the run-or-die anti-Semitism in Nazi influenced Europe is the only reason I’m breathing air right now.
The world works in strange ways.
Recently I left Durango”s winter behind while seeking desert warmth and sunshine. I was on a nine hour 600 mile southwest mission. Currently I’ve been camping for over a week at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. This desert jewel straddles the AZ/Mexico border. It’s a land of stately saguaros, extraterrestrial looking mountains and of course Organ Pipe cactuses.
It’s also a region dominated by Border Patrol Officials driving 4X4 pickup trucks. On a 42 mile loop road I spotted eight Border Patrol units. I actually had a too-close encounter with one. The young male officer was barreling through a wash heading the wrong way on a one-way road. He shrugged sheepishly before he sped off once again. I have no idea what migrant phantoms he was pursuing. No explanation was given.
The National Park Service signs are atypical too.
While hiking the trails. I’ve discovered evidence of migrants heading in a northerly manner. A desert bleached shirt, hat and trousers. A blown out black garbage bag with empty plastic containers of surgery juice drinks, colas and salty snack food. I poke the remains with my shoe trying to extract a story from the litter. How many were there? What was their destination? What caused them to risk it all to come to a foreign land where they won’t find a “Welcome Wagon” to greet them? This is what I know, the decision to wander was probably made in desperation. Like my parents their options were few.
On an exploration drive I came upon The Great Wall of Racism. Inspired by a fat, finger pointing xenophobe with a flair for theatrics, it was something to behold. But not in a good way. The fifteen foot wall is mesmerizing and nauseating at the same time. It’s a severe gash across the desert. Like Trump, there’s absolutely nothing subtle about it. The Wall is an in-your-face “F—k You!” to our southern neighbors. A stark reminder of failed diplomacy and an off kilter foreign policy.
All this costly economic and ecological damage to prevent wannabe laborers who mow our lawns, clean our hotel rooms and pick our produce. Sure there’s a few bad apples lugging drugs. GASP! However, those smugglers are severely limited to how much they can carry. (Most drugs enter the country through legal border crossings. Source USA Today, 1/19/2021) Besides, if Americans didn’t crave the contraband their would be no smuggling. Supply and Demand. Heck! The Loser who supposedly penned “The Art of the Deal” should understand this basic economic premise.
A justification for Homeland Security and our massive Military Might is the necessity of “Protecting our American Way of Life”
However. America’s biggest threat already lies within our borders. The January 6th, 2020 attempted coup orchestrated by Made in America White Terrorists was an attack upon Democracy. Yet there are those (including 147 Republican Congressmen) who call these Rebels without a clue-Patriots. Trying to overthrow the Federal Government? Now THAT’S unAmerican!
Unfortunately Trump, the BIGLY LIE and his enablers and ring-kissers aren’t going away. (Just like Covid). Democracy is at risk. That’s more frightening than migrants (mostly potential laborers) coming across our Borders.
If my parents were still alive today they would agree.
Visit Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. Take a hike and put yourselves in the shoes of the migrants. You might get a dose of empathy.
“Tear Down This Wall!
Ronald Reagan
June 12, 1987
West Berlin
Here’s a few other posts pertaining to our Border:
For further reading:
The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea
14 Miles: Building the Border Wall by DW Gibson
Stay safe and healthy,
Jeff