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As a Border Patrol Agent on patrol in 1972, it would be quite common for a notorious crossing trail to have 100 to 500 aliens waiting for sundown to cross the border. Fellow Agents with colorful nicknames like Big Chief Hill, Bean Soup Parker, Picnic Palmroy, Doctor Dove, Reload Reeves, Morgan The Hat, and Punchy Painter ( I was one of only 2 Italians in the Sector Headquarters and for some reason, I was nicknamed Colombo). We knew “the game” and waited for the rush of humanity. We could only apprehend, on a good night, a few dozen. The rest would make it in. The Border Patrol had other means to deter the immigrants like Farm and Ranch Check, Railroad Yards (I once got stranded in a Union Pacific boxcar with a dozen Mexican immigrants and couldn't jump off because the train started moving too quickly out of the railroad yard. We all finally got off at Marfa, Texas.), City Patrol, Sand Dunes ( As a rookie I was tracking footprints, only to be told after a while by my senior partner they were horse tracks, Oops!), and Traffic Check (Always a surprise when a car trunk or truck sliding door opened up.) Thousands of immigrants have been crossing our borders for decades. The humanitarian crisis on the Southern Border could have been addressed decades ago but the government never did. Now, in my mind, it must be put under control with manpower, legislation, cooperation, and empathy.
