THE BARBARIANS ARE AT THE GATES!

Wake up, Brownsville! The barbarians are at the gates!

The violence and corruption have been building for decades and now the dam is about to break and flood Brownsville and the entire region in blood. Students from Matamoros say that silence is not only the best option, it's the only option. 

"We are paralyzed by the psychosis," says a local resident whose family calls Colonia Jardin home where the dead have littered the streets after night-long gun battles. 

"Nobody says anything least they find themselves sleeping permanently in a dirt bed." 

Wake up, Brownsville! The barbarians are at the gates! 

Can you imagine a shoot-out stretching from Palm Boulevard to International Boulevard and leaving dozens of bodies in its wake and The Brownsville Herald refusing to report on the bloodbath out of fear for its existence? That is the reality across the border. 

El Bravo peeps not a word about the slaughter. The Herald reports once on the incident and opines nothing. Only recently the newspaper was telling its subscribers that the drug wars were exaggerated accounts perpetrated by special interests. 

Wake up, Brownsville! The barbarians are at the gates! 

Should we fear for our lives? I can't sleep. I see dark clouds gathering. Or am I just an old man growing paranoid? My youngest son asks us each time we head downtown if we are nearing Matamoros. He watches a show based in Seattle and he wants to move to Washington. He knows that it's safer living on the Canadian border. 

In Matamoros young girls are kidnapped off the streets and disappear forever. Our government doesn't show images of dead bodies in order to continue its foolish wars in the Middle East. At a minimum our government could show us the images of the mutilated bodies in Mexico. 

"We don't want to insult Mexico's dignity," stammer public officials. 

MEXICO HAS NO DIGNITY!!! 

Wake up, Brownsville! The barbarians are at the gates! 

I love Mexico. I love Matamoros. I settled on the border to be near my infatuation. I have spent many of my happiest moments south of the Rio Grande. But I can't sleep. I am thinking twice about golfing at the Fort Brown golf course across the Rio Grande from Mexico. 

I gaze across the river and contemplate the cathedral's spires. I would no more walk around the plaza today than I would take out my driver in a lightning storm. Ciudad Juarez is the most murderous city in the world. Tamaulipas is a narco state. Not a day goes by that a politician or a police officer isn't assassinated in San Fernando or Rio Bravo or Nuevo Laredo. We are teetering on the edge, but, like Christ walking on water, we think we can walk on air. 

Wake up, Brownsville! The barbarians are at the gates! 

My Matamoros acquaintances tell me that the mafiosos, like maquiladora executives, are conducting business from Brownsville. My Matamoros friends warn me that our police, customs and border patrol are in cahoots with these criminal elements. My Matamoros amigos shake their heads when I respond incredulously that their accusations can't be true. 

This is the United States of America!!! 

Then I think about the myriad of law enforcement officers prosecuted for running drugs. I consider the abject political corruption in Brownsville. I remember the appreciative downtown merchant many years ago telling me about the drug lord walking into his store and paying thousands for merchandise. 

I recall Dr. Tony Zavaleta counseling me that being a contrabandista has been an honorable profession in South Texas. Stillman, King and Kenedy built their fortunes crossing cotton during the Civil War. 

Wake up, Brownsville! The barbarians are at the gates! 

We celebrated Fourth of July and I have never felt less free in my life. I can't sleep. I'm afraid. I fear for my sons. I fear for my pueblo. I fear for my country. 

And nobody says nothin'!