As I walked into the local cemetery at Laredo.

I could see why the local residents never used words like Memorial Garden or called this place a cemetery.
To describe this final resting place of over a thousand souls.

It was known by everyone simply as the Laredo grave yard.

No one came here to put flowers on the graves of love ones.

There was no effort by the local city council to make this cemetery a pleasant place to visit for their departed love ones.

It was above, all places, a place, when people came here they wanted to forget.

It looked more like a squatter squalor , a Mexican dumpsite for garbage that you didn't want to see again.

Not to mention is was very difficult to distinguish one grave from another.

Some of the graves were clearly marked and easily identifiable, but the majority of the graves of the common people were not.

Who ever I was suppose to be looking for.
Was in one of those common graves.

"Hey Mister, ya look like you don't know where your at?"

"I guess in a way I probably don't"

"So why you here in the first place Stranger?"


"I am here looking for a grave"

"Mister, you looking for a grave?
Look around my friend, that ain't too hard to do.
Or is there someone in particular you need to find?"

" I'm looking for someone"

"Well the good thing he an't going no place. What's the fellas name your looking for?"

"I don't know his name.
I don't know what he did or anything about him. I am just here to find his grave"

When he heard what I said.
This grave digger
looked at me as if the Texas sun had fried my brain.

"Mister, you ain't from around these parts, are you?

"No, I'm not !
I am from Pittsburgh, back east"

"Tell me something Mister, I know we not be as smart as them Easterners, back in Pittsburgh,but do you all back in Pittsburgh visit the grave yard of people you don't know?"

I thought about what this grave digger was saying to me.

As he kept looking at me as if the city of Pittsburgh sent me to Texas with an oversize load of stupid.

All I could do was think how ignorant I sounded to this grave digger.

Who probably could barely read and decipher simple math

"Digger, you're making a lot of sense for a simple man, but I still need to find this grave"

" Let me ask you stranger?
Do you got anything that might help me find this grave you're looking for?"

I then reached into my shirt pocket and showed him the silver bullet my grandmother had given me.

The moment he saw that bullet is entire complexion and demeanor changed toward me.

He went from friendly and easy going to being hostile.

"Mister, if you know what's good for ya. You'll turn around and walk out of this grave yard.
You just need to forget about what you came looking for"

By this time in our conversation I could sense that Digger wasn't going to give me too many more answers

"Why should I do that?"

"Mister, you see that hill over yonder?"

"Yeah, I can see it"

"Mister , everyone who ever came came looking for the grave you want to see. Is on the other side of that hill."

I was now confronted in my mind with great thoughts of anxiety

Did I really want to see the gravesite that my grandmother insisted I had to see ?

Or should I take the better choice of valour and walk away?

I then looked at Digger and said

"You know where this grave is?"

" I do Mister!"

"Then take me there Digger"

"I ain't no fool Mister.
I still like living.
I ain't ready to do no dying, especially for someone I don't give a dam about"

"How am I suppose to find the grave?
If you don't show it to me?"

"Mister, you see that Oak tree?"

"I do digger"

"Four graves past that Oak tree is the grave you're looking for.
By the way Mister,
You wanted me to tell you're girl you won't be coming home?




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