The right way to start must be the beginning. Though our family was living in Juarez (Chihuahua, Mexico), my brother and were born in the Second Ward of El Paso, Texas. My father’s side of the family emigrated to San Francisco, California from Nicaragua. Dad joined the Army at the age of seventeen and was stationed in Fort Bliss, Texas. He and my mother met in Juarez. Both became naturalized US citizens.
They wanted us to be born in the US, and seems like it was probably a reasonable idea. We lived in Juarez until 1974-1975, when we moved for good to El Paso. The US president was Lyndon B. Johnson. “People Got to Be Free by the Rascals” was popular on the radio. Also, Led Zeppelin was touring in America. One of my favorite spaghetti westerns “Hang ‘Em High” came out this year. On TV, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was debuted, and I remember watching the show with my brothers.
Mom and Dad were good parents who did a good job teaching us right from wrong. As cliche as that may sound, I am regularly reminded that not everyone had two involved parents teaching them how to stay out of trouble. In my life, I have met plenty of people who did not have the support and protection which we did. Some of them did fine for themselves; they do not speak fondly of their youth and their parents. Hearing of their disadvantage, causes me to miss my father even more.