Tunnels are not real uncommon beneath the burning sands that join the border there in Southern Arizona and Mexico but the one that was found last week may be unique. This “dig” was well built and roomy enough to walk through. It had a flat floor and was properly shored up. Authorities believe the underground passage that ran from a shut-down KFC restaurant to a residence in Mexico was used to smuggle drugs. That’s all I “know” about that but I was immediately suspicious that the underground conduit may have been used by “chicken hungry” Mexicans to slip over for some very tasty American KFC Chicken. It is good stuff. Better than drugs.

My theory also suggests the tunnel could have been used to smuggle illegal’s into Arizona. Just saying. Especially since the KFC had gone out of business. Perhaps there was too much gritty sand in the chicken breasts. Or by chance this was just a shady short cut that Mexicans take when going across the border to shop. Whatever it was, the tunnel is closed now. I don’t know if they just set a red-cone or two at its entrance or whether they actually destroyed it. The newspaper didn’t say.

Speaking of San Luis reminds me of a little town just north called Gila Bend. Gila straddles I-10 and old Highway 80. Not a big town but big enough to sport several motels and eateries and, of course, one good sized police department back in the 1950s. The police in Gila Bend were dedicated to their town and their jobs back then when I was a sailor stationed in San Diego and, as such, I was on a big Greyhound Bus that drove into this little place. Its driver was a small man with big ambitions to become a race track driver. At least that’s my theory. He did not like to share the road and ran a car over in the ditch on our way in.

The brave little driver also took some of this guy’s car paint with him as we sped happily on our way. Well, I wasn’t very happy. There were already two cops on our tail before he engaged the car for his lane and the policemen’s lights were already flashing. I was seated on right front seat and had a good view and by now their sirens going strong. We kept going. Didn’t stop until we arrived at the bus station where a highway patrol was waiting. We were covered. Our bus driver opened the door and before he could say anything two cops “stormed” the cockpit and cuffed our driver. They jerked him off the bus and the passengers started shuffling around so they could get off too.

The biggest cop turned and told the crowd “Keep your seats! I’ll tell you when you can get off.” So we sat and waited, and then waited some more. I was restless and wanted to know what was going on and so I got off anyhow. No cops anywhere. I reentered the bus and told the passengers what I had seen and so we all went inside. The big cop came along again and nearly had some sort of spell when he saw we had all escaped. He wanted to interview each passenger but settled for just three of us.

But now the station manager went out and took the keys out of the bus and locked the door before announcing that none of us were to leave the building. A fresh driver was on the way. Our own driver had already been dragged off like Barney Fife. I eventually made it to San Diego. PTL.

Before signing off let me say this in response to a some inquiries about my yard gophers: I have them under control. They have met their match and I believe they have retreated. Now if I could just get them to come back and take their friends, the Moles with them, well I’d have it made.

Remember to take your family to church Sunday. You’ll (probably) be glad you did.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

waynebullard@sbcglobal.net