Wandering away from the campsite and looking for a suitable spot to watch the sunset, he approached what is known by some as Cootes Hill. It was from this rise that American soldiers kept watch to the south along the border for elements of the Mexican revolution rumored to be considering an attack, more for the attention than anything else.. Unfortunately for them, they came from the west, far out of the way and of the sight of the soldiers and crushed the small outpost easily. Pancho Villa’s men left their mark on this dirt nearly hundred years (1916) ago.
At the top of the hill he found an old woman with long gray braided hair. She was just beginning an annual ceremony to commemorate her dead husband who had a heart attack on this hill watching the sun do its thing years ago.
She had some flute music and kind words, tears, and some chanting. He stayed and remained quietly engaged. Once the horizon shown pink and purple he hugged her for what ended up being more than a few minutes. It was if he became the old dead man Jacque.
She graciously thanked him for the shoulder. He remarked something about being honored and stumbled down the path of Cootes Hill. No revolutionaries in sight.
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