In writing The Nightlife San Antonio,
I was inspired by events in my life from 2005 through 2010, when I lived in
Sonora Mexico, on the border of Arizona. At this time the border situation was red hot. By 2007, every week brought a
new headline of the escalating drug war in the border towns that often spilled
over onto U.S. soil. Though our small town of Agua Prieta, Sonora didn’t
see any major conflict, I noticed the camouflage-painted tanks cruising through
the scrub brush in the countryside, patrolling the line. Yes, tanks, and camouflaged military soldiers
with assault rifles. I had never seen this kind of thing in the U.S., actual military occupation. This was
interesting, but the incident that really brought the border conflicts to my
attention was the assassination of the Commandante of Agua Prieta, known as “Tacho.”
The Commandante,
the chief of police, is like the sheriff of the municipality. I saw the
Commandante’s Jeep after the shooting. The windows of Tacho’s vehicle had been
reinforced with inch-thick bulletproof glass, and would have saved his life, if
he could have closed the door. The bullet holes I saw were in the interior of
the door. He’d been standing in the open door of the Jeep when they
attacked with automatic assault rifles. Tacho was killed in the parking lot of
the police station, in broad daylight. Rumor was he’d been taking cartel
payoffs for years, but, his cooperation wasn’t satisfactory anymore. The
cartels had made a bold statement, an example, one of many cartel assassinations
in those years.
Don’t fuck with
the Mexican cartels, not if you value your life, or the lives of your family.
About a third of
the Agua Prieta police force quit their jobs. New officers were brought in from
all over Sonora. Most of the locals were too afraid to take the job. Police in
border towns everywhere experienced tremendous pressure and constant threats.
The manhunt for
Tacho’s killers went on for months, but the cartel assassins escaped and were
never caught. This kind of violence against police and authorities hit both
sides of the border, yet it was far worse in Texas and California. Arizona
experienced only a fraction of the drug wars that Tijuana/San Diego and Ciudad Juarez/El Paso suffered.
The catalyst of
this war was the new President of Mexico, Felipe Calderon, who had made the
cartels his number one target. Across Mexico and the U.S., joint task forces of
DEA and Mexican federal military worked in concert to hunt down these powerful
cartels. Their efforts may have slowed the flow of drugs, but certainly didn’t stop
it. They created a vicious, bloody war that lead to hundreds of prosecutions
and incarcerations. The U.S. federal prisons are now filled with Mexican cartel
members. These men are trapped for 10-20 years or more, but they’re still
deeply entrenched in cartel connections, with powerful family ties in Mexico.
Now comes the Mexican
Mafia, a gang born on American soil, recruited from the convicts inside the
prisons. Cartel members doing a life sentence are out of action, but the other
inmates with 1-2-3 years before release are ripe for training. These parolees
hit the ground running, drugs, cash and guns handed to them as soon as they set
foot on the streets. The cartels found new life and distribution channels
through the prison-based Mexican Mafia gang.
In 2010, La Eme – “M” – short for Mexican Mafia, battled with other gangs over control
of the streets of San Antonio. Law enforcement joined the battle and took out
huge chunks of gang membership with massive conspiracy indictments and arrests.
Still, La Eme thrives. As many people as are thrown in prison for gang-drug
activity, there’s always a new crop being released, newly trained and ready to
go into business.
U.S. prisons are the
breeding ground for La Eme gang
membership. Members wear distinctive tattoos of a black handprint with the
letters E M E, or, something derivative of the Mexican flag, the Eagle and the
Snake.
It was years
later, 2012, when I moved to San Antonio. I had missed most of the excitement.
But, my years spent in living in Mexico stayed with me to this day, vivid
memories of things I may never comfortably admit to. As you read my macabre,
perverse tales of mafia, corruption, cartel, and vampires, it’s obvious I have
some intimate knowledge of these things. Did I learn from jovial conversations
with men whose tongues were loosened by tequila and lime, or do I have a story
of my own to tell?
I’m not quite
prepared to answer that question today. Maybe someday when I’m old and grey,
and it just doesn’t matter anymore. For now, enjoy my tales of chaos, mayhem and
debauchery, and take it on faith that I know what I’m talking about.
J
The Nightlife San
Antonio is now available at TWLUEDKE.COM
or NIGHTLIFE SAN ANTONIO
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