The Ragged Edge: Victims were real people, too

Their names were Albert Gomez and Adolfo Gutierrez.

Albert, 38, was a groom at Valhalla Farms and lived in Rockdale. Adolfo, 27, had a wife and baby girl. They lived in Cameron.

They were both born in Mexico but they lived and worked here. They had friends and family here, people who loved them. They were real people.

Albert and Adolfo died June 4, 2000 when they crossed in front of a BNSF train at the Houston Street crossing, the same crossing where Brian Reinders and Travis Mueck died last month.

The circumstances between the two accidents are chillingly similar.

It was a late on a Sunday afternoon, around 6 p.m., according to the report published in this newspaper, when Adolfo and Albert attempted that crossing. The weather was clear, the sun bright. It's likely that Adolfo, the driver, never even saw the train coming, not necessarily because the sun was blinding (though that is also possible) but because the glare off the rails makes seeing anything past about 100 feet very difficult.

In fact, you can test this particular theory yourself. The next sunny day, go to that intersection at around 5 p.m. and look to the west. Note that the sun is not on the horizon but the glare from the sun glances off the rails and right into your eyes. No one could see a train if it is right behind the glare.

One striking difference between the accidents is that Brian and Travis crossed that intersection from Houston Street. Adolfo crossed from the other direction and would have had to look back over his shoulder - right into the teeth of the glare - to see anything.

In both accidents ... well, never mind. Let's just say that the immediate aftermath of both accidents was also very similar and leave it at that.

Recently, we mentioned Albert's and Adolfo's deaths in an editorial. We meant no disrespect when we referred to them as "Mexican laborers." Had we known more about the men, likely we would have written the editorial the same way because we were trying to make a point.

That point is that, four years ago - long before Brian and Travis were killed - our city leaders had a stark demonstration of the danger posed by that particular intersection. It may be "seldom-used," as one news report put it, but it's not "never used." People in this town - particularly young folks in a hurry - often use that intersection as a short cut.

But, Adolfo and Albert were first-generation immigrants. It's possible they weren't even American citizens yet, but that's not information I have. They were laborers, fully employed but employed at low-skill positions. They weren't well known. While their families and friends - of which, by all accounts, there were many - mourned their passing, they had no family or business connections to the people in Cameron who would feel outrage at their deaths and could Get Things Done.

Brian and Travis were bright young men with stellar futures. They were well loved and well respected. They touched many lives in this town and their deaths affected all of us.

Adolfo and Albert may have been real people but, the way Texans often look at things, they were nobodies.

So, when they died that sunny Sunday afternoon in June four years ago, the community at large shrugged its collective shoulders, tsk'ed briefly at the tragedy then moved on in glacial indifference.

And that's a shame because their deaths were rendered senseless by that very indifference. If nothing else, that accident four years ago should have been a catalyst to appropriately mark - or at least close - that dangerous intersection.

Instead, it was still open, still unguarded last month. It remains open and unguarded today.

This was published Feb. 19, 2004 in The Cameron Herald.

Editorial: Close it. Now!

Tuesday's accident that killed two Cameron teenagers wasn't the first fatal collision on that stretch of railroad.

In June of 2000, two Mexican laborers were killed while crossing that intersection. It's unfortunate that the men were neither popular nor particularly well known. Had they been, someone in this community would have pushed hard to upgrade or close that crossing a long time ago. Instead, their deaths were largely ignored and the manner of their passing was chalked up to inattention or alcohol or drugs.

Had someone pushed four years ago, that crossing would have either been closed or adequately signed when those young men tried to cross it last Tuesday afternoon.

Just as nobody took responsibility for the accident four years ago, no one wants to take responsibility for last week's accident.

As we've reported in our page-1 story, three entities -- the Texas Department of Transportation, Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad and the City of Cameron - have been discussing since May 2002 upgrading the warning signals at the Houston Street rail crossing (the crossing is listed as the Cedar Street crossing, # 022924R, in an inventory maintained by the Federal Railroad Authority).

But the sequence of events that, on one hand, listed the intersection as the 26th most dangerous rail crossing in Texas as of December 2001, then declared the intersection a private crossing in August 2002 (which dropped it off the federal list of dangerous rail crossings needing improvement) has a hard time passing the smell test.

Further, it gives credence to the conspiracy theorists who insist that state rail authorities are in cahoots with railroad companies to avoid marking any crossing they don't have to.

The three entities met, looked over the crossing and decided that the road opposite Houston Street is not a dedicated city street. Since it's not a city street, the crossing is not eligible for federal funds.

TxDOT insists that it can't advance the project any further until the issue of public-private ownership is resolved.

BNSF officials won't "speak to public or private" issues, even though the railroad actually owns and pays taxes on the property.

For its own part, the city has said it would do whatever is necessary to upgrade the crossing but has been waiting around for either TxDOT or BNSF to tell it what to do.

In other words, everyone's been sitting on their hands waiting for someone else to do something.

That's not good enough. It shouldn't have been good enough and it certainly isn't good enough any more.

Only one of these three entities has the authority, mandate and responsibility to correct this dangerous situation. Only one of these entities is charged with protecting the safety and welfare of the citizens of this town: The City of Cameron.

The city is the only one of the three entities responsible for railroad crossings in the city limits that can and must harass TxDOT and BNSF until something is done.

Make no mistake, this is a public safety issue. Our elected city council members can no longer stand by while more powerful interests dither. It is up to our elected representatives - and the professionals they employ - to cut through the chaff and protect us and our children.

The city council must close the Houston Street crossing - temporarily but immediately, regardless of any protest - until a permanent, safe solution can be found.

Anything less is negligence and places other lives at risk.

This was originally published Feb. 5, 2004 as an editorial in The Cameron Herald. It was part of a package that won awards for editorial writing from the National Newspaper Association, the Texas Press Association, the South Texas Press Association, the Texas Gulf Coast Press Association and the North & East Texas Press Association.

The Ragged Edge: Politics and religion don't mix

Let's be clear on this. I believe with all my strength that there is no place for politics in religion and no place for religion in politics.

The very worst chapters of human history were written when these two very powerful spheres of culture collided. Theocratic states -- countries either run by a religion or so bound up in religious law that secular and theocratic doctrine become confused -- have generally been intolerant of people who do not firmly and zealously hold to the beliefs of the majority religion.

This intolerance has ranged from oppression of women and denial of citizenship to non-believers, to torture and outright genocide. Indeed, many of the worst atrocities ever committed by mankind have been committed in the name of one religion or another.

That's why this democracy was founded on the very clear understanding that our government has no business messing around with church business and churches should stay out of the government's business.

I bring up this point because there as been a recent trend -- a trend illustrated by several letters published in this newspaper -- that political ideology and religious beliefs should go hand-in-hand.

This trend has been growing for a number of years but intensified after the tragedy of Sept. 11, 2001. In the span of 24 hours, it seemed that you couldn't be patriotic unless you are also a Christian. Never mind that this country has always been a haven for a cacophony of religious voices ... and a place for non-believers as well.

Now, all of a sudden, according to some, you can't be a Christian if you are also a Democrat.

'Democrats believe in abortion and no Christian can hold to that.' Besides, every good right-wing Republican knows that all Democrats are godless.

Excuse me, all liberal Democrats are godless. Those other Democrats are simply confused.

Baloney. That's not only wrong-headed, it's dangerous, divisive and completely against the spirit of our country and Christ's teaching.

There is a sharp difference between secular law and religious doctrine. Secular laws -- the laws passed by the federal and state governments -- are meant to apply to everyone, regardless of their religious beliefs. There's even tolerance built into our secular laws to allow for different religious beliefs.

Religious laws apply only to those who believe in that particular sect of that particular religion. To believe and act in any other way smacks of sanctimonious self-righteousness.

Though some of our laws are grounded in the Judeo-Christian foundation of this country -- in fact, there is a distinct correlation between most common law and Christian doctrine -- the U.S. Constitution does not recognize any religious law as the law of the land.

This is so for the very simple fact that one person's religious law is another person's idiocy.

For example, there are some (actually most) religious doctrines that teach that taking any life is against the Word of God. In fact, the set of laws most revered by Christians in this country include a frank prohibition against taking a life. As I recall, there are no exceptions to the Commandment: "Thou shall not kill."

Indeed, many of the same people who would carve the Ten Commandments on the walls of every public building in the land cite that Commandment as grounds to deny women the legal right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, the right to retain control over her own destiny.

Yet, many of those same people also support capital punishment, state-sponsored execution.

So, which religious laws should we observe? The ones that tell us what food we can and can't eat? The ones that tell us to take unruly, disrespectful children out to the edge of town and smash their heads against rocks?

Who will play Solomon and decide which of God's Words we must observe and when it's okay to safely ignore them?

Politics and religion make a dangerously volatile mixture. Our government is an instrument of secular life, not a tool to compel conformity according to some religious principle.

The Constitution specifically protects minorities from the tyranny of the majority.

We can't afford to let the narrow religious beliefs of a vocal few -- no matter how right and moral they believe they are -- dictate to the rest of us how we should feel, what we should believe, which laws we should pass or overturn and how we should vote.

It would be un-Christian and un-American.


This was published in the Cameron Herald in January, 2004.

The Ragged Edge: The inflammatory incident at Bob's

I wasn't going to talk about this. Really. I thought the incident had been contained, the damage controlled leaving me to endure a bit of rowdy but good-natured ribbing.

But, since my wife was dragged into this mess, I suppose I'd better set the record straight. Full disclosure and all that.

First of all, despite what you might have inferred from the radio, Tia Rae had nothing to do with it. She was an innocent bystander, possibly guilty by association but certainly not by commission.

(By the way, that blabber mouth on the radio - and you know who you are- should take this as fair warning that I don't get mad, I get even ... and what I write stays in print for a loooong time.)

I'd like to blame it on exhaustion or Shiner or distraction but the simple fact is: I tried to burn down Bob's Steakhouse.

Fortunately, I'm as inept at pyromania as I am at fighting fires.

Here's the whole, sordid story.

It was Friday evening about two weeks ago. Tia Rae and I were tired ... exhausted from eight long weeks of rehearsals at the community theater combined with a brutal work schedule. Since all the kids were away, we didn't have to go home and cook (not that we've done much of that this summer - but vegetables are something you don't eat unless you take time to actually prepare a meal instead of heating up sausage or opening a can of tuna).

Anyway, on this Friday evening, all I really wanted was a good steak and a cold beer - not necessarily in that order. So, we went to Bob's where they know to keep the Shiner cold and how to cook a rib eye that J. Frank Dobie would have appreciated. We barely even have to place the order, which is mighty handy when you are so tired you can hardly speak.

Before we had a chance to find a table, James Brogger sidled out from behind the register. The youngster used to work in our mailroom and spent Friday nights busing tables. It was thrilling to discover that James had not only graduated from C.H. Yoe High School in good standing but from washing dishes at Bob's: James was our waiter that night.

James came back with my Shiner and a basket of bread. While we waited patiently for our steaks, we spent a little time catching up with him.

I flipped over the paper napkin that had wrapped the bread and buttered a piece while we visited. You know, James is a tall fellow; I remember craning my neck to keep up with our conversation.

Suddenly, a brilliant flare of light danced between us.

"Uh, that's on fire," Tia Rae said, pointing to the breadbasket, her voice tinged with the tenor of mild hysteria.

I glanced down at the breadbasket and saw that, sure enough, I had carefully draped the paper napkin across the sugar dish and over the candle in the middle of the table. As I watched, flames spread from the candle, kissed the sugar packets and engulfed the breadbasket. The scoop of butter, which was nearby, developed a shiny glaze.

James, bless him, tried to smother the fire with his tray, his eyes growing larger by the moment.

Mary Beth, one of the waitresses, raced over and whisked the flaming sugar packets away. A brief flurry of activity by the rest of the staff saw all flames extinguished before I could think to do something really brilliant like grab a handy bottle of whisky and pour it over the flaming bread.

I remained rather calm throughout the incident; my sole effort at fire control was blowing on the flaming sugar packets, a monumentally unhelpful and ineffective action as it merely fanned the fire and spread bits of charred paper onto the melted butter and across to an adjacent table.

A few minutes later, James returned with a fresh basket of bread, this one helpfully labeled, "Caution, contents is combustible." One of his cohorts kindly placed an industrial grade fire extinguisher on the corner of our table.

We've been back to Bob's since. They actually let us in, though they thoughtfully blew out all the candles in the vicinity.

This column was published August 14, 2003 in the Cameron Herald.

The Ragged Edge: The enduring human spirit

Since the inception of our space program, there has been an argument about humanity's presence in space.

Very early in the program, while the various initial boosters were still on the drawing board, Werner Von Braun, the father of our space program, worried that the mandate to put a human in orbit would turn the effort into a circus. He believed that automated probes would be cheaper and deliver more in terms of scientific discovery, that manned space flight would waste resources and lives.

The launch pad fire in 1967 that took the lives of Ed White, Gus Grissom and Roger Chaffee re-ignited that debate, as did near-disaster of Apollo 13. Predictably, with the loss of the Challenger in 1986, and the lives of its crew, opponents of manned space flight once again marshaled its arguments.

In the wake of Saturday's tragic disintegration of STS Columbia on re-entry, we can be sure that this argument will re-emerge as part of the national debate surrounding our space program.

For 40 years, manned space flight has taken place at the very edge of our technological capabilities. Never mind that the space shuttle is an over-grown, glorified grocery truck, it represents the leading edge of our technical abilities ... plus, it is a very flexible and useful grocery truck.

But, every mission is fraught with peril. Every time we light that can of hydrogen on the belly of a space shuttle, every time the shuttle drops like a winged brick into the atmosphere, the lives of the crew are put on the line because the process is not and can never be 100 percent safe and risk free.

Seventeen astronauts have been killed in the last 40 years. If we continue the effort of putting humans in space, we will lose more.

Is it worth the risk? After all, our space probes are becoming more and more sophisticated. The Mars and Jupiter missions of the last decade seemed to vindicate Von Braun's assertion that automated probes are cheaper and can return a huge value for the investment. What's more, the last Mars mission cost about 25 percent of the cost of one shuttle launch and no lives were placed at risk.

But unmanned space missions just aren't the same. They engender no pride; they don't celebrate the human -- the American -- spirit of adventure, of discovery, of pushing back the dark of night the way a manned space mission can.

Apollo 13 was a terrifying moment in the history of our space program but it made heroes of James Lovell, Fred Haise and John Swigert. Few of us remember -- or even care about -- the highly successful Mars Viking project.

We need robotic space missions to help pave the way but the final frontier's grand adventure isn't real until we go there and touch it ourselves.

There is a painting of a pretty little girl wearing a red hat by Pierre-Agusta Renior hanging in the Chicago Museum of Art. You've probably seen pictures of that girl in her red hat in art books or prints of the painting hanging in someone's home. But, until you see the actual painting with your own, unaided eyes, you've never really experienced the depth and vibrancy of the color red. You can't even know that a particular color can have that kind of depth and vibrancy. When you think of it, is awe-inspiring.

Manned space flight is similar. Until we experience the adventure for ourselves, we can't know the awesome potential of human presence in space.

Our manned space program illuminates and even defines our national character and sense of adventure. Those 17 astronauts knew the risks involved and gave their lives in pursuit of that adventure in discovery.

The coming debate over our space program is welcome but, as we discuss its merits, we should never lose sight of the sense of wonder and our aching desire to experience what lies beyond that horizon with our own eyes and heart and mind.

In memoriam ...

• Apollo I (AS-204)-- Jan. 27, 1967 -- Ed White, Gus Grissom, Roger Chaffee

• Challenger (STS-51-L)-- Jan. 28, 1986 -- Rick Scobee, Michael J. Smith, Judith Resnik, Ronald McNair, Ellison Onizuka, Gregory Jarvis, Christa McAliffe

• Columbia (STS-107)-- Feb. 1, 2003 -- Rick Husband, William McCool, Michael Anderson, Kalpana Chawla, David Brown, Laurel Clark, Ilan Ramon

This column was published February, 2003 in the Cameron Herald.