Border Patrol Stories
Riding the Darkness
It was a day partially spent completing end-of-day paperwork. The Deputy had instructed me to "find a barbershop." To fulfill this task, I drove a '69 Scout to the town's only stoplight and back, earning me a "Government Driver's License." I then fired 50 wadcutters at assorted beer cans and was consequently deemed "familiar with the weapon". And off I went to combat crime.
A day or two later, my mentor, a seasoned Journeyman, advised me to "be careful." Just when I started to think "this guy actually cares," he added, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life drafting 'Dear Chief' memos."
Fast forward to 4 AM near a Southern Pacific siding in Valentine, TX. I was armed with a flashlight and six bullets, told to "Get off the hopper cars when the train starts to move."
As I peered into the top of a hopper car, a sense of tranquility washed over me. Then, the train couplings snapped together, and we started to move. The wheels echoed, "tick...tick...tick," while my Journeyman's voice rang out from the darkness, "GET OFF THE TRAIN!"
I hurried to the corner and began descending the ladder, only to find it was a defective one with only three steps. Panicking, I scurried back to the top of the car and ran to the other corner. All the while, the Journeyman's shouts echoed, "Get off the train!" The wheels rhythm quickened to a "tick, tick, tick," and I was scrambling to find the top of the ladder.
Finally descending the ladder, the wheels sped up their song to a "ticketaticketaticketa." Faintly, from the darkness, I could hear a desperate voice pleading, "get off the train!" Assuming I was on the bottom rung, I pushed off and away from the train with all my strength.
I assure you, when you're falling through the darkness with enough time to think "this is gonna hurt," believe me, "THIS IS GONNA HURT."
A day or two later, my mentor, a seasoned Journeyman, advised me to "be careful." Just when I started to think "this guy actually cares," he added, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life drafting 'Dear Chief' memos."
Fast forward to 4 AM near a Southern Pacific siding in Valentine, TX. I was armed with a flashlight and six bullets, told to "Get off the hopper cars when the train starts to move."
As I peered into the top of a hopper car, a sense of tranquility washed over me. Then, the train couplings snapped together, and we started to move. The wheels echoed, "tick...tick...tick," while my Journeyman's voice rang out from the darkness, "GET OFF THE TRAIN!"
I hurried to the corner and began descending the ladder, only to find it was a defective one with only three steps. Panicking, I scurried back to the top of the car and ran to the other corner. All the while, the Journeyman's shouts echoed, "Get off the train!" The wheels rhythm quickened to a "tick, tick, tick," and I was scrambling to find the top of the ladder.
Finally descending the ladder, the wheels sped up their song to a "ticketaticketaticketa." Faintly, from the darkness, I could hear a desperate voice pleading, "get off the train!" Assuming I was on the bottom rung, I pushed off and away from the train with all my strength.
I assure you, when you're falling through the darkness with enough time to think "this is gonna hurt," believe me, "THIS IS GONNA HURT."
Riding the Darkness
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