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Sanctuary Cities

Posted by Pete | Posted in News | Posted on 15-02-2017

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Since Sunday, The Albuquerque Journal has been doing a series of articles on the Mexican drug cartel. And according to paper, the Cartel is doing lots of business in our state and of course, using some of our border crossings, as well as all the crossings across our southern border, bringing in tons of drugs daily. Creating sanctuary cities is most probably music to the Mexican drug cartel’s ears. Santa Fe, a sanctuary city and Albuquerque, trying to become one, are playing right into their hands. Those folks love it….. It would be false news or fake news to say that there are ties to those voting in favor of sanctuary cities to the Mexican cartel, however, with the money they have available and knowing that many of our politicians are on the take, you have to call it like it is and suspect that some of the payola is going on. And on behalf of the sanctuary cities who say they are not protecting criminals, and while they are not protecting them,  they make it difficult to question them because of racial profiling….And you know how playing the race card is another sword to rattle….We really need our wall…..

Comments (1)

I am not surprised to learn that Santa Fe is a sanctuary city. It is a small town, a capitol city, and a quaint little town with strong ties to artists, the “far out” as well as state government. Besides state government, the artistic enterprise and tourism is probably the second largest money maker. Albuquerque, on the other hand, is a big, bustling city. I can’t see where there would be quite the advantage or profit in harboring illegals there as there might be in Santa Fe. I grew to love Albuquerque when I was there in the Sixties because of the year around good climate, something like 96% sunny days, the mountains, the desert, the high mesa, and the river valleys all in fairly close proximity on foot and by bicycle. When we were there just before last Christmas, I noticed that Albuquerque had changed. It was no longer a city two blocks wide and 10 miles long running along a very famous highway. It was now a bustling city. Although Kirtland was still an Air Force Base, it had moved eastward to what I knew as an Army base. Most of the area on the west side that I knew as Kirtland AFB was now either a part of an expanding airport, a technical center, or just empty, cleared land waiting development. My barracks was gone, The mess hall was gone. The only thing left of Zia Park Housing was the lay out of the streets. The same had happened to the Capehart housing, now all empty space waiting development. Even the old Officers’ Club north of Gibson and close to my old church on Hermosa Drive was gone. Also the NCO Club the I knew was gone. Worse of all, there was no Mecca Service Club around. The Mecca was a place that Airmen, who were not eligible for either the NCO Club or the Officers’ Club frequented. I have talked to people who were stationed a Kirtland long after I was there, and they had never heard of the Mecca. It must have been gone a long time. My favorite tennis courts were still there. I would be happy now. In the Sixties, sometimes I had to wait for a court. Probably not now because the courts had doubled in size and Capehart Housing was now all empty space; therefore, I would not have to worry as much about my wild tennis balls. I almost didn’t recognize the old Crumley Laboratory, the headquarters of the old Air Force Weapons Lab. The Phillips Laboratory and the Air Force Research Lab had really changed things. I didn’t have the opportunity to get back out to the Goat Farm (I saw it from the air as we were leaving from the air port.) but it had changed most of all. I almost didn’t recognize it because of all the development connected with the Nuclear Weapons Depository, but its remains were easily spotted. My beloved parallel rows of popular trees were all dead and gone. I only recognized a few stubs remaining. There was nothing left of the Radiobiology Laboratory, where I worked, but a concrete slab, and the animal barns were gone except for the concrete slabs. Surgery where we autopsied thousands of sheep was gone except for the concrete slab. All the famous government trailers, where I spent many hours of study and, mostly sleeping, were gone. Even X-ray was gone. I did recognize the “hole in the ground” that was the only thing remaining of the Cobalt-60 Radiation Facility: our pride and joy, that never irradiated a single animal, as the Lab closed shortly after it was completed. All that tax money wasted! So, you have it. Change in the military is the name of the game. And there has been change. That includes the people. I could find no one who had even heard of the Mecca Service Club or the Goat Farm. My best friend from off base was now retired, and he actually looked like an old man. I suppose I need to look in a mirror. I suppose I do as well. The main chemist I worked with for four years at the Goat Farm was now retired along with her husband, who was an engineer at what used to be Sandia Corporation. At least, they were the few left who still remembered the Goat Farm, but Gerry’s memory was slipping rapidly. The non-military guy, Lee Hendricks was the only one I met on our trip who still remembered The Mecca, as he had visited it quite a few times with me. It was our favorite place to play ping pong. There you have it. I guess change is inevitable, even the change brought on by open borders and sanctuary cities. I was happy that I do not have to serve at Kirtland again, as those happy days are gone forever. Even the people there have changed. They all look military now. The mission of the base has evidently changed. There are no look-alike, civilian mad scientist walking around creating weapons of mass destruction as well as the means to insure the survival of troops in the field from those same weapons. It is all space weapons systems and laser technology now. All this change in a mere 50 years!

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