The number of times a group of illegal aliens came to our house asking for help was a number I cannot remember. It would be, without a doubt, in the hundreds. Most of them were polite. Occasionally, one or a group would be aggressive, even demanding, and a few downright arrogant and disrespectful. Most of them were lost, many times asking where Phoenix was located and when told that Phoenix was over those mountains 250 miles away they were astonished. Many of them had been told by their guides, known as coyotes, that Phoenix was within walking distance three or four hours away.

The volume of humanity that came by was simply overwhelming; you just couldn’t handle that many people. If you helped all of them by feeding everyone who asked for it, the word would get out on the amazing underground communication system, which was and still is in effect, and you would be flooded by even more. We would always give them water, but gave them food sparingly, simply because we did not want to be known as an easy meal. We always called the Border Patrol and many times they would be picked up before leaving the premises.

One day about midday three illegals approached the house, a young man and two women. The young man was in his mid-twenties, the older of the women, about the same age. The other female was probably in her late teens. I called the Border Patrol and went out to talk to them. (Read the full story)