Having Fun With Mary Jane

Here is an essay I posted months ago that either got accidentally deleted by me or censored and removed by Google for key words or labeled as something Google din't agree with. It is an essay I wrote for a college class while I was working on a border security mission along the US-Mexico border. It is based on a true story but edited by my boss who is now the border security director for the great State of Texas.

Only specific locations, agencies and names have been edited but the plot and story line remains true. It also ties in nicely with my previous post titled "Mexican Cartel Business Models and Operations".

Here we go.

The War on Drugs is slowly starting rear its ugly head in American neighborhoods that have in the past been known as quaint and quiet settlements of peace and tranquility. Why now? What has changed that has caused the dread of drugs, violence, and gangs to invade the sanctity of our neighborhoods? In more ways than one, we have opened the door and in some cases, invited the beast in with our justification of our addiction to the very drugs that has already torn Mexico apart.

  It’s easy to condemn the violence in Mexico and blame it on various factors such as greed, addiction, corruption, and poverty. While these are important factors in the violence in Mexico, there must be a catalyst. Without oxygen, a fire cannot burn. While Mexico may be the fire, the US’s insatiable hunger for drugs is the oxygen providing the fuel for that fire. To add to the explosive equation, Americans’ sale of weapons to Mexicans for profit is the kindling we throw in the fire to keep it going.  American gun runners justify gun sales to Mexicans by telling themselves they are only conducting business and it’s not their business what the customer does with the guns. Even when, the seller knows that those guns are going into the hands of cartel members and will most likely kill many people. He has convinced himself that as long as he doesn’t hurt anyone, his hands are clean of the innocent blood that runs in the streets of Mexico.

  As Americans that live a pretty sheltered life compared to people in other countries, we tend to turn a blind eye to anything that we find offensive or may otherwise hurt us. Even the occasional recreation marijuana smoker who has convinced himself that marijuana is a harmless narcotic, has also convinced himself that it’s not his responsibility what happens before the marijuana get to him. To put things in to perspective, I find it moronic that Americans will protest, start movements, and boycott companies that sell jeans because the manufacturer they buy the jeans from exploit child slavery. They will gladly give up their name brand jeans so a child in Bangladesh doesn’t have to work for $5.00 a month in a sweatshop. Americans will boycott stores that sell products that harm an endangered lizard in some remote part of the world. They will gladly give up products that contribute to “global warming” in favor of a more expensive “green” item for the sake of environmentalism but will not give up their recreational drug because they have their rights and they’re “not hurting anyone”.

  The fact is Americans don’t want to know what happens once the marijuana plant is harvested. They’d rather believe that what happens in Mexico may not be morally right but they still have the right to smoke a “joint” when they feel like it. Besides, it’s easier to get stoned without knowing the death and destruction that has occurred in Mexico so they can numb their minds for a while.

  It has been determined that 90% of marijuana bought in the US is grown in Mexico which translates to about 60% of the profits that goes to only a few individuals within several cartels in Mexico. I also find it pathetic that Americans are on Wall Street protesting big business and government because of fiscal greed causing lower standards and conditions for lower class Americans but we have absolutely no problem stuffing our cash into cartel pockets and fueling the drug war in Mexico lowering the standards and conditions of Mexicans. If that seems pretty harsh, consider that the US accounts for 85% of the cartels’ overall business of narcotics in 2010. That overall “business” literally translates to virtual slavery, forced labor, threatened lives, families separated, risking life and limb to transport the narcotics, torture, extortion, kidnapping, getting shot, decapitated, burned alive, or killed. Being caught and jailed in the US is actually the preferred option. That means that we sent millions of dollars to Mexico each year to raise the standard of living for a few ruthless people and lower it for everyone else.

  In the Sierra Madre, The Tarahumara Indians who retreated from the Spaniards to the area have been especially hit hard by the cartel enforcers who have forced them into growing marijuana for the cartels instead of their traditional corn and other crops. Since the Tarahumara use no formal currency, they are only compensated with trinkets and allowed to live. Once the marijuana is harvested, it is processed by poor villagers who are often made to work under the watchful eyes of armed guards to prevent the theft of any marijuana. Stolen marijuana can earn them more if sold on the street than what they get paid, which is often in only food for the day. Workers who steal are killed or subject to torture in front of the other workers to discourage any more thefts. They are only paid in a day’s worth of food so they won’t leave for risk of starving. Once the marijuana is processed, it is ready for packing and transportation. This is probably the least dangerous task of the process depending on the cartel since this process is usually done by better paid members of the cartels but often tortured and killed for stealing any amount of marijuana.

  The mayhem starts once the marijuana is done being processed and the dope starts its journey to various points in the U.S. Starting from the remotely located packing shed in the Sierra Madre mountains, transport drivers are accompanied by armed guards to defend against rival cartels and armed thugs trying to score a quick load to sell on the street. In January of 2010, a truck load of marijuana that had left a shed destined for the Mexico – Texas border was hijacked 200 miles from its destination in Juarez. Armed gunmen supposedly from a rival cartel shot and killed the driver and two escorts. They only managed to steal about 300 of the 1,125 pounds of marijuana from the transport truck before the load escort truck caught up and engaged the hijackers killing one of them. 

 The marijuana was loaded into the escort truck and continued on its way. The bodies were left hanging out of the vehicle and on the road to be picked apart by wild animals until authorities arrived a day and half later. There was no investigation and no one claimed the bodies.

  The load later arrives at a small ranch north of Chihuahua to be divided up in to smaller loads to be distributed to the couriers whose job it is to take the smaller loads to the people along the border who are going to cross the loads into the US. At this point some of the freelance couriers tend to steal small amounts from their loads either for sale or personal use. Since some of the crossers or “Cruzadores” often have exact weights they are to receive, the courier must remain in the room while the load is weighed to ensure the exact weight has been delivered as ordered. These independent couriers are often inexperienced and sometimes carry loads a few times for quick money and think they outsmart the cruzadores and don’t realize they will be held accountable for every ounce of marijuana they transported until it’s too late.

  One week after the hijacking, an 18 year old boy and his 17 year old partner were found bound and gagged with packing tape and single shots to the head. The shed they were found in also had a scale and used packing tape rolls commonly found to wrap marijuana bundles. The two boys were thought to be couriers as both had been previously caught by police with marijuana. They had both dropped out of grade school in search of income and recruited by local plaza henchmen to transport. The 18 year old’s mother initially denied the body was her son out fear of retribution by the cartels who had killed her husband a year before. The 17 year-old’s body was claimed a month later by an uncle after he was buried in a grassless plot with a simple wooden tombstone that reads Jaime G. 2010.

  The marijuana load has now reached the border and ready to be crossed. The cruzadores are usually young men with intimate knowledge of the territory they work in. Their job is to cross the loads into the US with the help of information from lookouts on both sides of the border. They carry multiple cell phones, life preservers, and sometimes, a bag of homemade road spikes to thwart law enforcement vehicle if chased. They know what times the Border Patrol scouts come by, they watch for law enforcement aircraft, and boats. A recovery team remains on the Mexican side to recover the load if the cruzador has to splash his vehicle into the river.

  In one incident, the driver had returned to the river because a police officer was hot on his tail. The driver headed back to the river and alerted his recovery crew that he was coming in. His passenger, wearing a red Polo shirt stayed on the phone and guided the recovery crew to the splashdown location as their route changed. As they neared the river, the stolen truck they were driving blew a tire. The driver accelerated to compensate for the flat tire but kept losing control. He drove off the river bank at an angle faster than anticipated. The sudden stop as the truck hit the water caused the driver to hit his head on the window or door frame. He was disoriented and could not get out of the vehicle before it started sinking. The recovery crew waiting on the Mexican side of the river managed to recover most of the floating bundles but made no effort to extract the driver before the vehicle sank. His body was found two days later by US Border Patrol patrolling the river. He was carrying a fake Texas driver’s license and $275.00 in cash. He was 21 years old. 

  It is possible that the passenger had to pay some retribution to his cartel bosses for his loss of some of the load. Since he was not identified, it could not be confirmed that the body of a young man with a red Polo shirt found two weeks later in Mexico was that of the passenger. Hog tied and blindfolded, he had signs of torture and a gunshot to the back of the head and has yet to be identified.

  A smaller load that was part of the original load from the ranch in Chihuahua has successfully made it through the law enforcement gauntlet and arrived at its destination in Austin, Texas. There, the Ford minivan drives into a neighborhood and down an alley into the back yard of well manicured house where kids play in the front yards.  The Neighborhood Crimewatch signs on the corners of the neighborhood help create the illusion of a safe neighborhood. The marijuana bundles are cut out of the quarter panels and headliner and stashed in the garage, shed and bedrooms. Over the course of a week, other vehicles arrive and the process is repeated until the house is full and the load is ready to be moved further north. In the middle of the night, a cloned insulation truck backs into the driveway where the dope is loaded into the van. The next stop is Atlanta, Georgia.

  The home owner who rented the house had his suspicions about the three Hispanic men who rented the house and paid in cash. He wonders why these men with no kids would move into the area claiming to work for a local company. He looks at the $ 2,800.00 in cash in his hands and dismisses his suspicions. Besides, the last two families couldn’t afford the rent and he has bills to pay. He tells himself that he’s only doing business and he’s not hurting anyone and hands them the keys.

  The truck leaves the Austin stash house early in the morning with a male driver and female passenger. Their cover story is that he found a job in Georgia and they are moving to a new home there. At the same time, a scout vehicle follows three or four car lengths behind them. They will follow the van and never lose sight of it or the driver for the entire journey. The scout’s job is to intercede for the van if law enforcement gets involved. The scout car is usually clean of any contraband or may even be rigged with empty hidden compartments or have an odor of marijuana to occupy law enforcement to give the van time to get away while the scout car is searched. If law enforcement gets behind the moving van on the road, the scout car will commit some type of traffic violation, initiate a pursuit or otherwise attract the officer’s attention in an attempt to stop the scout vehicle instead of the van.

  So far, it has been an uneventful trip for the van and scout car. Once in Louisiana, the scout notices a black Ford Mustang that has been following them for the past 250 miles and is starting to get concerned. Could it be a local gang trying to steal their load? Or maybe a cartel supervisor making sure his load is where it’s supposed to be? Either way, the scout is not only watching out for law enforcement, but an unknown threat. In Tallula, Louisiana, the scout calls the van driver on his burner phone and has him make a detour through town and take Highway 80 instead to be on the safe side. Once in Mississippi everything seems calm and the black Mustang is gone. On the Interstate 20-61 interchange, the scout notices a white pickup following them. Again, the scout’s concern rises then panic sets in as he spots a state trooper on the side of the road. He frantically tries to warn the van driver but it’s too late. The scout sighs in relief as they both pass the trooper and the trooper remains parked. The white pickup is still following though. The scout finally gets the van driver on the phone and tells him to slow down and keep an eye on the white pickup and the green Expedition that been following them.

  They decide to stop for fuel and a quick meal then head out again. After loading up on energy drinks, burgers and fuel at the gas station, a police officer pulls in to the gas station. The scout looks at the van driver as he’s getting in the van and nods casually then looks over in the direction of the officer. The officer notices the Texas license plates and keeps looking. The officer gets out of his unit and walks into the store as the scout places the fuel pump back in the pump holder.

  The van is already a few miles down the road and he has to catch up. Five minutes later the scout spots the van and catches up. Another five minutes goes by and the scout is relieved the officer didn’t question him. As he’s bragging to himself about his getaway, he looks up at his rear view mirror and sees flashing red and blue lights. His heart drops and quickly makes a plan to lose him then, he sees a second patrol car behind him. He quickly pulls over instead. The officer is a narcotics officer familiar with the smuggling routes and concealment techniques used by smugglers. His back up brings out the K9 to search the vehicle knowing the vehicle is a scout and following the load vehicle. The officer has already put out an alert for the van when he was at the store. The officer runs a background check and arrests the scout for a warrant out of Texas and other minor charges.

  The van driver can’t reach the scout on the phone after 20 minutes and throws the phone out the window to avoid any association with the scout if he sings to the police. He takes his van off the highway and starts taking back roads to avoid capture. The next day, the van arrives in Atlanta and pulls into another suburb neighborhood. He doesn’t recognize the man at the house and feels uneasy about turning the dope over to him. He notices what is probably a gun under his shirt and wonders if the man is a rival planning to steal the load. The code word he gets from the man checks out and the van keys are turned over to the man with the gun. The man with the gun tells him he’s there because “Rudy” got shot and arrested by police in a raid at the other house.

  The van is unloaded and the dope split up into three other vehicles where it will be driven to Memphis, Philadelphia, and New York to be distributed to the dealers. In Memphis, five of the 12 dealers are arrested and one is shot and killed by a competitor for selling on his turf. One of the five arrested will serve 20 years in prison because he is a felon in possession of a firearm and was implicated in a rival gang hit.

  The marijuana has finally made its way from the Sierra Madre to the party at a neatly landscaped family house in a quiet subdivision where a 20 year old Sam lights up the joint.

  From harvest to lighting up, about 32 people were forced to work under deplorable conditions, eight people were killed, six were arrested, and two were shot. In addition, six international laws were broken, 24 US laws were broken, eight vehicles were stolen, approximately 12 stolen weapons were in possession of criminals, six officials were bribed, and several families were broken.

  This is just one of the hundreds of runs that happen 24-7, 365 all along the US-Mexico border and throughout the US. Within weeks, the entire process will be reversed but the loads will be US Dollars going to Mexico. The cartel leaders need that money to surround themselves with outrageous luxury and clout. They also need it to bribe officials and buy more guns to perpetuate their business. After all, the demand is there for the taking.

  But, Sam, Sam is an American with the right to smoke marijuana if he wants to. What happens in Mexico is not his doing. As a matter of fact, he condemns the violence in Mexico, but he tells everyone, he’s not hurting anyone, just having a little fun with Mary Jane.

eModicus