of thousand inhabitants by the
early 20th century. Mining for
silver and lead had made it a
river boom town. When the
mines were exhausted, Boquillas
suffered for decades, like a “rust
belt” community when the factories
close.
After the threat to the United
States from the Mexican Revo -
lu tion ended, the 1920s and
1930s saw tourists bringing life
and hope to the little river community.
Visitors to the area discovered
the hot springs, in what
was to become first a Texas
state park and then Big Bend
National Park, and they waded
across the river or took a boat
to sample a bit of old Mexico.
The remoteness of the
national park and isolation
from central Mexican authority
made it possible for Boquillas
to remain a kind of Old West
frontier town into the 21st century.
Having a couple of beers,
a few games at the pool table
for 50 cents a game and a taco
at the park bar with its collection
of baseball caps became a
highlight for newcomers to the
national park and a regular ritual
for frequent visitors. Several
hundred visitors a day would
spend time in Boquillas, and
many remained overnight at
the Smuggler’s Inn, the town’s
only bed and breakfast. Burro
and pony rides for adults and
children along with handcrafted
souvenirs meant that countless
individuals and families
took back into the States both
fond memories and trinkets
from their trip into Mexico.
The tourist economy in
Boquillas was strong enough
that Boquillas residents did not
need to pressure tourists. Visitors
remember feeling laid-back
rather than pestered by peddlers.
A first-hand account, found
in an unpublished memoir by
the national park’s first superintendent,
discloses a secret
about just how relaxed was life
on la Frontera in the mid-20th
century. Needing to get away
from the administrative hassle
from time to time, Supt. Ross
Maxwell would hide out a day
or two at Maggie Smith’s store
on the park’s far east side. One
night Maggie awakened him,
in the room she provided for
his overnight stays, to say that
her driver was unavailable and
that she needed Maxwell’s
help. He drove Maggie’s truck
to the river following her
instructions. There at the
river’s edge, a Mexican national
in charge of the unloading/
loading operation going on in
the middle of the night greeted
him with the words: “I did not
expect to see you here,
Commandante!” When the
candelilla wax was stowed onto
Maggie’s truck, the superintendent
drove it back to
Maggie’s place. At Maggie’s
instruction, he parked the truck
out of sight, so that it could
await the regular driver to take
it to Alpine for sale of its wax
hoard the next day.
Visitors had experienced a
“laid-back” Boquillas, but
when the border was closed, it
was soon laid-out like a corpse.
Someone forgot to ask “just
who was being walled out and
who walled in.”
Within months of the border
closing, Boquillas’ 1990s
population of about 300 had
dried up, as people left to find a
way to support their families. A
mere handful of families live
today in Boquillas and even
fewer in Santa Elena. The only
regular income for the remaining
isolated families has been
Los Diablos, the well-trained
and well-equipped firefighters
who, beginning about a quarter
century ago, have been
allowed to cross the river to our
side because they are essential
to helping control the frequent
wildfires in Texas and surrounding
states.
The fire crew members can
make nearly the equivalent of a
year’s income for the average
villager on a single firefighting
engagement. Visitors no longer
venture to Boquillas from the
United States today, to avoid
incurring severe federal penalties.
Some of today’s Boquillas
residents eke out a living by
risking arrest to lay out, on our
side of the river, walking sticks,
jewelry and desert-creature figurines
fashioned by winding
fine copper. If you find their
caches on the boulders in the
park, you can take a souvenir
and put your dollars into the
can or glass jar beside the
hand-lettered sign that indicates
proceeds are for the San
Vicente School. You are not
supposed to buy this illegal contraband,
and it can be confiscated
from you, but compassion
is the offspring of conscience
not law codes.
Now it appears that happier
times are ahead. By late spring
2012, a new class B border
crossing facility, the construction
of which has already
begun, will allow us, once
again, to cross the river for a
beer and a couple of tacos. We
should not expect that Boquillas
will be restored to its former
congenial uniqueness in short
order. We can help to shape the
future of la Frontera. We can
expect that if we come, they
will build it.
Who knows, an international
park, a long-time dream,
may even be a possibility.
In the 1990s, the villagers of
Santa Elena, Mexico, spent
weekends helping the National
Park Service restore the oldest
adobe building in the park, the
Alvino House at Castolon.
They did so because they recognized
that although two
countries were separated by the
Rio Grande/ Rio Bravo in
Brewster County, there was a
single culture.
Restoration of that twocountry-one-river
culture can
reverse the decision to wall out
and wall in a handful of rural
communities. We can now
apply for one of the new credit-card-like
passports that can
be magnetically swiped or barcode
scanned. This new type of
passport will likely be required
to access the remotely monitored
border crossing. It’s time
to brush up on our conversational
Spanish, visit Boquillas
and help make hospitality the
twin of security.
“Something there is that
doesn’t love a wall, that wants it
down.”
Your Gathering, Our House
Catering, Groups, Cakes & Pastry
220 East Oak
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Cenizo
Fourth Quarter 2011
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