I was in the Border Patrol for two years. I was a crane operator on the Fence Maintenance Crew in the San Ysidro Sector (from the Pacific Ocean to El Centro CA, 50 miles inland) on our Southern border. The Port of Entry between San Ysidro and Tijuana is the busiest border crossing in the world. I saw many strange and shocking things but there is one thing I’ll never forget.
Five large culverts were needed in a dry arroyo to drain flood water under the border fence into Mexico during rainstorms. This was in preparation for a 100 year flood event so the culverts were quite large: six feet in diameter. The road and culverts were already in place and we were installing steel grates that would secure the culverts against intrusion but allow water to drain through. Since the culverts were so large a lot of steel was needed and the grates were heavy so the welders fabricated them in place and then we hoisted them into position with the crane. It would be about a four week job.
One day, after we shut down for lunch, we were sitting around the head of the culverts when four children popped out, with their dog, whose name turned out to be Daisy. Surprised and shocked we looked at the Border Patrol Agent who was sitting in his vehicle about 100 yards away. We were always watched/guarded by an Agent. He was there to ensure we were safe, that no groups of immigrants tried to rush through, and to make sure we weren’t smuggling. He didn’t move. Didn’t even roll down his window, so we chatted with the kids as best we could in broken Spanish and shared our lunches with them.
The days went by and the kids started coming through every time the machinery shut down, and our lunches got bigger and bigger. One day we heard a woman calling and Charlie, who spoke a little Spanish, went to the fence and spoke to her. It was their mother looking for them. He told her they were over on our side but it was OK, he would send them back through. It turned out that they lived in a shack down in the Mexican side of the arroyo. Their father had snuck through and worked in construction up in Temecula. He would come home whenever he could for a visit, and then sneak back to work.
I was sitting in the crane one day and gazed down at the shacks in the arroyo and suddenly realized that if the flood we were preparing for ever came, their little shack, and all the rest would be washed away. If those had been my kids, I would have done anything to give them a better life, or died trying. I now know that as long as people can find jobs and work here, no wall or fence is ever going to stop them.
If we are ever to solve the immigration problem we have to recognize that most immigrants are just poor people looking for a better life. It’s going to take a thoughtful, bi-partisan solution that allows guest workers, paths to citizenship, and some asylum. We can’t save everyone but every citizen of this great country is descended from immigrants and we have room for a few more. In fact we need them as part of the solution for the Social security funding problem.
The Statue of Liberty is one of our nations’ iconic and revered symbols. These words by Emma Lazarus are inscribed at her feet:
 “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Those words still mean something.
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Howard Bulick recently retired from the US Army Corps of Engineers after 26 years of Federal service. He lives in Bingen with his wife and son.
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