Mexico violence destroys border cities' ties, tourism

harm’s way,” said the new fire chief, Steve Landin.

“They threw grenades at a fire station there in the not-too-distant past. I heard of another instance where they threatened the firefighters, and told them not to extinguish a fire, to let it burn,” he said.

The Laredo Police Department once had close ties with police in Nuevo Laredo and also donated surplus equipment, but the relationship is much reduced, Villarreal said.

Fewer contacts

The Chronicle quotes Webb County sheriff Martin Cuellar to say that some of his Mexican contacts remain viable. “While now it’s hard to go over, we’re still a phone call away. We talk to them all the time,” he said. He conceded, though, that because of the mayhem, his Mexican sources are becoming fewer.

As in almost all border cities, the Nuevo Laredo tourist district — once sustained by Americans, from families making weekend visits to the tourist market to buy curios to nocturnal lone wolves headed for Boy’s Town — is all but dead.

Back in the old days, many parties that began in Laredo ended in Nuevo Laredo, where the bars stayed open later, supporting almost thirty late-night watering holes.

“We used to get 10 busloads of tourists from San Antonio for the Washington’s birthday celebrations. They would sleep here and party over there in Nuevo Laredo. We don’t see that anymore,” Villarreal said.

The extravaganza also once drew throngs of Mexican spectators and participants to Laredo. Nuevo Laredo would in turn host a downtown street party for anyone who wanted to finish celebrating.

“We had lots of people from Nuevo Laredo, Monterrey and the interior of Mexico. You’d have marching bands, performers and people who would come to watch them, and go shopping” recalled Joe Rubio, the former Webb County district attorney.

Few destinations open

Almost all the venerable Nuevo Laredo tourist destinations, from the cabrito place El Rincon Del Viejo to the Cadillac Bar to Marti’s Gift Shop are closed. Only a few bars remain open in the downtown, all operating under the heavy boot heel of the Zetas.

“As far as tourism is concerned, it’s a complete nightmare. The whole northern border of Mexico has lost a tremendous industry. I don’t see how the government let it go,” said Jack Suneson, 61, owner of Marti’s, which was founded by his mother.

Those who can get out of Nuevo Laredo have been doing so. One man, who moved to Laredo two years ago as the violence became extreme, still goes back to visit his mother, but only after carefully assessing the risk.

“Once we crossed over almost every weekend. We’d take the kids to visit grandma but now you can’t go like you used to. They have shootings. They are stealing cars,” he said, asking that his name not be used. “Now I have to call my mom to see if we can go across. Now you have to think about it. You might be putting your young daughter’s life at risk. You might get killed,” he said.

Hunters undeterred

The Chronicle writes that despite scary headlines and stern travel advisories, Mexico for some remains irresistible, particularly those afflicted with white-tail fever.

In mid-November, after breakfast at the La Posada Hotel in Laredo, three large middle-aged men in hunting garb prepared to go into Mexico in search of a deer lease. The three, who admitted to speaking almost no Spanish and were driving a large late-model Chevy pickup, seemed to be an invitation for a carjacking at very least, but they were undeterred.

“Last year we didn’t go over because of the violence, but now they say it’s not so bad,” said Mike Wicker, 47, of Waco. “We go straight to the deer lease. We don’t stop anywhere,” he added.

A few years back, before things got really ugly, the group numbered ten hunters. Now only three are willing to go into Mexico, where the deer are bigger, the country is uncluttered by roads and gas wells, and the lease terms are unbeatable.

“The sunsets on the Monterrey mountains are beautiful. You can sit up in a blind, not see another hunter or a house,” said Brian Lane, 42, a beer salesman from Waco. “It’s more or less the last frontier. I don’t know if it’s worth dying for, but I love it.”