***My kids used to “camp out”. I let them go about a tenth of a mile away one night (1980ish), I could watch their fire. The next morning they came home and told me that they ate a rattlesnake!
Some illegals came upon their camp and they had a rattlesnake for dinner so my kids shared their beanie weinies and spaghettios with them and the illegals shared their rattlesnake. That was back in the day that illegals weren’t scary.***
Yeah. People are people. Immigrants are immigrants. My father was an immigrant and so am I.
The scary part was in reference to what is going on at the border now. One of our employee’s grandson was murdered last weekend, just one of 13 people murdered that weekend. They found a bunch of beheaded bodies in the trunk of a car during the week.
I used to have no fear but I do now. Back before the ‘86 amnesty I think we were famous because they all knew my husband by the nickname some illegal gave him and they would knock on the door and ask “Is this the house of Baby” and when you said yes, they’d ask for food.
One time we were camping on the Mississippi River, and across the field from us a whole large group of people pulled into camp, over the 3 day Labor Day weekend...it was an older man and his wife, their kids and in-laws and a whole troupe of children, of varying ages....at that time, my older boy was around 7, and there were several boys in this group around my sons age....my son joined up with them, and soon they were all playing...
Now, it seemed obvious, that this whole large group of people had very little money...the older parents had a very old raggedy RV for their use, the tents that all the others were using were old, and faded and worn, and they were all kind of poorly dressed....so when they invited my son to have dinner with them, I was hesitant to let him, because I was not sure that they had enough food for themselves, much less another hungry boy to feed...but they assured us, they would welcome him to dinner, so I told my son to go on ahead, and eat with them..
When he returned, after dinner, and after some more evening playtime, I asked him what he had for dinner...he frowned, and said, “Boiled poatoes, boiled cabbage, and bread”...now, I knew my son hated boiled potatoes, boiled cabbage, tho he did like bread...he assured me, he ate all his dinner, without a fuss and thanked those kind people for the meal...
Luckily I had saved my son, some hot dogs and hamburgers from our bar-b-que that we had enjoyed...he gobbled them down...
And then he invited his friends to join us for dinner the next nite...we had chicken, and since I always brought enough food to feed an army we had plenty, for our guests....the kids said it was a treat for them, because they knew that their current nite dinner was again, going to be, “Boiled potatoes, boiled cabbage, and bread”....I guess that is what the family ate for three nights straight...
It was quite the learning experience for my son....he pondered that family and their unique dinners, for a long time after that....
My parents were immigrants, too. Nowadays you can’t tell if they’re coming into the country legally or not. In the ‘old days’ immigrants used to assimilate. They’d learn the language, etc. Now it’s “Spanish ONLY” spoken here in many cases. Too bad.