The shooting yesterday in front of Grandpa Lauro’s house in Monterrey got me to thinking about how easy it is to become accustomed to what would have been unusual just not too long ago. I have written earlier about how I got excluded from jury duty when the prosecuting attorney questioned me because I listed all the bad things to which our family and friends had been subjected. The list included multiple instances of armed robbery, home invasion, assault, and shoot-outs. One of our friends daughters was murdered horrifically in Guadalajara. The mayor of my brother-in-law’s pastoral little town in the beautiful wooded hills outside of Monterrey was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered by his own police force because he would not allow them to accept payments from the narcotraficantes.
Lauro and Conchita immediately laid down on the floor when the shooting started. It went on for a long time. They did not get up to look out so they had no idea what actually happened. Nothing has really happened close to their house before, but they hear gunshots now and again. Most of the family members have been caught in road blockades created when the narcotraficantes steal trucks, turn them sideways in a main thoroughfare, and throw the keys into the river so they can get away from the police or the army. After the shooting, it did not dawn on them that it might be a bad thing to be out in the street. They went down to the HEB supermarket to buy groceries. It reminds me of the English going about their daily lives while the Germans bombed them during World War II.