Biggs AFB

This graphic has nothing to do with either Biggs AFB or El Paso where it is located. What is has to do is the fact that my transfer to Biggs opened a door to Sodom to me and I walked into it grinning and awe-struck. It opened up, to me, a vast world so immense it seemed like I was in another galaxy . . . Therefore the orbiting world to above.

Ah, yes indeed, what would evolve in El Paso/Juarez would widen my eyes and dim my morals, something I will readily admit was instilled in me by my parents -- both of them, although my mother's contribution to the education of right and wrong was Do as I say, not as I do, for she had no qualms about breaking the Ten Commandants if it benefited her, or her faux standing in the community. I can't repeat it enough times about how the bonfires of the secular and flesh-seeking desires were kindled in the border town across the Rio Grande. It whetted my appetite for my complete disregard for the time-honored standards I grew up with, i.e., God was replaced with insatiable cravings for the flesh and drugs, although both of these pursuits would eventually become my all, the Juarez experience was the catalyst for all the rest. I was metamorphosed into something akin to the Jekyll-Hyde scenario.

I recall even the smell of Juarez had a lingering, strange scent to it, which if you were so inclined you might say you smelled a tinge of brimstone. Actually, I have a feeling that it was the smell of poverty and bad sewage lines, if there were even any such lines. The city relied almost completely in those days on tourists. There were two different kinds of tourists; those who walked the main drag, Sixteenth of Septembre, to "bargain," or (for those who might take offense, get a life) "Jew-down" the many street vendors and shops selling everything from sombreros to worthless trinkets . . . To the tourists who wandered the back streets where the whore houses and other assorted immoral acts were taking place for the price of a meal across the border in El Paso.

That was where you could find me, wallowing in Juarez's cesspool and loving every single minute of it. It soon became my base of operations, not the Biggs AFB, where I began to screw up and screw up badly. It would become a pattern of how I would conduct my life for many, many years. Was I a bad guy? Did I renounce my Christian upbringing in order to dwell in the slime of the forbidden? Was I on my way to a path which would lead me into more trouble than I could take care of?

Yes, I was a bad guy, or at least I was a bad guy in the making, although my Christian upbringing never left me, I just managed to find dark places within myself to hide from them. I was definitely on my way to trouble which would land me in a place I did not want to be. Or did I?

Tomorrow, more from Biggs AFB/Juarez . . .

My Novels:

Write To Murder . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/956621

Margaret and David: A Love Story . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/1072842

My Mother's Revenge . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/1132742