The Call

 

He came to the Valley bashful and thin
No money to spend, his asset...a grin
A smile on his face and a handshake for all
The gentile young man in search of The Call.

He joined the Patrol to belong to the best
The only thing left, of the wild wooley west.
The pride and the passion, the pain and joy
Were still only dreams he'd had as a boy.

So here on the Border with Mexico proper
The young city slicker would become a copper
In forest green outfit and armed with revolver
He learned to become his own problem solver.

When reared on the street, not raised on a ranch
It's hard to avoid the cactus, the branch.
You must quickly learn the stuff to survive
At night on the "River" to just stay alive.

As time went along, the gentile young man
His skin tough as leather from tracking in sand
His holster unstitched and gunsights worn round
Would trust to himself when trouble came down.

The smugglers of people and drugs he would catch
No gunfighting outlaw was ever his match.
"Trust no one!" he'd say and that was an order
"If you want to survive the Mexican Border."

A lengend arose as stories were told
Of the Border Patrolman so proud and so bold
The bravest crimefighter in all of the land
The victor in combat with iron in hand.

Then came the sadness that all will remember.
It happened one night in early September
While observing the river that night,
He saw a young boy submerge out of sight.

The mother was screaming from opposite bank
To help save her son as deeper he sank.
Without hesitation he answered The Call
He jumped in the river, hat, gun and all.

He swam to the boy and stretched out his arm
And wrapped it around him to keep him from harm.
While fighting the current, protecting the child,
He was struck in the spine by a log running wild.

But, upon nearing shore, so witnesses say
They could see on his face his pain go away.
Just a few feet from safety he lifted the boy
And flung him on land like a small paper toy.

Death now awaiting, he turned to the crowd
With eyes triumphant, courageous and proud
A smile on his face, a farewell to all
The gentile young man had answered The Call.

Fred Rangel