I was living in a small town, in the southern tip of Texas, called Mercedes. My father and I were walking on the west side of the town. I still remember that day. My father pointed to a huge Mesquite tree, about a block from the house, where I grew up. As we were walking towards town, he stopped and told me, that when he was about twelve years old (1925), he found a man hanging from that particular tree. He told me he ran home and brought his dad and a neighbor. I asked him who had done it. He told me that the Texas Rangers had hung him. I was about eight years old when he told me the story. He told me that I was too young to understand those things but that I would when I got older.As I got older, I continued to hear stories that were similar. It was then that I understood the horror and injustice. Before I die, I feel obligated to share the truth hidden from our history books. I dedicate this short novel in memory of the victims of greedy land grabbers and evil Texas Rangers who committed these atrocities.
I was living in a small town, in the southern tip of Texas, called Mercedes. My father and I were walking on the west side of the town. I still remember that day. My father pointed to a huge Mesquite tree, about a block from the house, where I grew up. As we were walking towards town, he stopped and told me, that when he was about twelve years old (1925), he found a man hanging from that particular tree. He told me he ran home and brought his dad and a neighbor. I asked him who had done it. He told me that the Texas Rangers had hung him. I was about eight years old when he told me the story. He told me that I was too young to understand those things but that I would when I got older.As I got older, I continued to hear stories that were similar. It was then that I understood the horror and injustice. Before I die, I feel obligated to share the truth hidden from our history books. I dedicate this short novel in memory of the victims of greedy land grabbers and evil Texas Rangers who committed these atrocities.
