On the hill overlooking El Paso

"And the walls came down all the way to hell, never saw them when they're standing, never saw them when they fell…" And it’s a pity that I can’t sing along with “Tweeter and the Monkey Man” when I think of two of El Paso’s main landmarks: Asarco smokestacks and City Hall. Because, although I didn’t see them when they fell, I did see them when they were standing. And just to think that they’re not going to be there to greet me when I make my comeback.

     I still remember getting up on a big hill, on Juarez’ West side (almost right across from the Franklin Mountains), with my binoculars, to pick out buildings, streets, and places of what used to be El Paso’s downtown. And City Hall was one of the buildings that used to stand out big time. It was quite a pastime for a kid in his early teens; I mean, when alcohol wasn’t yet in the picture. 

     For the Asarco smokestacks we didn’t need binoculars, because they were right on the borderline, pointing to the Mexican side like two gigantic phalluses, blowing their polluting fumes. I still can taste the smoke in the morning when I wake up, and it makes me cough like a chronic smoker. That’s not what I miss of it, but --like a friend suggested--, at least they should’ve made the old smelter a sort of museum for posterity, so the future generations could visit the place and reclaim part of their DNA on the cylindrical walls of the smokestacks. 

      Cities and towns are changing their facades around the world, and old, historic buildings that once have been distinctive landmarks are being demolished left and right, to be replaced by shopping centers, parking lots, Wal-Marts, or just plain new buildings, characterized by the flimsiness of modern architecture. And El Paso is no exception.

      The sad thing is that not only the aforementioned places have suffered destruction in El Paso, but in old downtown the streets look all abandoned and vandalized, like nobody cares anymore. To the point that walking on the streets of Segundo Barrio, like Paisano, Oregon, Stanton, and Kansas can be a very sad experience because, although they’ve never been known for their beauty and orderliness, now they look more like streets in a border town… on the Mexican side. Which makes me want to close my note singing: “Back in El Paso my life would be worthless/Everything's gone in life; nothing is left…"