Hunched Back Man, Texas Bar, Nena and I, The 60's in Brownsville/Matamoros

Nena and I, '69 at Boca Chica

Oh, the 60's in Brownsville!  Most of us worked part-time at some local business, while chasing school,  Nena at Model Laundry, after her stint in the army, Alma Buentello in the liquor store at Fort Brown, my sister, Sandy, at the S&H Green Stamps Store at Palm Village, Tom Robinson in construction, Rosalio Rivera at Whitman's Department Store downtown.  I can't leave out Gloria Turner, the most beautiful black girl in town, any town.

I worked the night desk at the Valley Inn Motel on Central Blvd. with Paul Sanders, who checked out of his final year at Oregon State, kayaked the Gulf of Mexico, before being washed up ashore near Boca Chica.

Most of us worked for $2.00 per hour or less, but, our money made us kings and queens in Matamoros.

We avoided the Drive Inn, leaving that for Winter Texans, although I did accompany Bill Williams once, only to get totally drunk during a discussion of the Viet Nam War.  I remember ordering a rum and coke and Bill saying "keep them coming!"

Bill was tapped out, but I still had a nickel in my pocket, the exact toll at the B&M Bridge.

Next, I was vomiting in my bathtub.

I influenced our group, all of the above,  to mostly patronize the Texas Bar on the square, el zocalo of Matamoros.  "The square," just across from the Texas Bar, was a gathering place for young people, especially en Domingo, when girls would walk one way and boys another, eyeing each other.

The Texas Bar, despite its unassuming name was a "high class" restaurant/bar with waiters in starched white and faux chandelier lighting over tables.

The cuisine was more European/American than Mexican; pheasant under glass, filet mignon, fried chicken, etc.  A dinner with TWO entrees, vegetables, breads was a mere $1.50. (Nena and I would always split a dinner.)

 A hunched back man guarded the parking lot at the Texas Bar.  He had developed a routine of sorts.

"I watch your car, 50 cents," he would say as we entered the restaurant.

On our departure from the Texas Bar, he would go Sylvester Stallone on us:  "Get away from that car!"  Then, looking at me:  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I no think it was you!"

I would hand him two quarters.