Straight from the Porch

My parents lived in Presidio, Texas when I was born.  The then tiny town and its Mexican sister, Ojinaga, sit across the international border from each other on the Rio Grande—known as the Rio Bravo del Norte in Mexico. My parents were mostly bilingual and traveled easily “across the river” to shop or eat dinner. You paid the bridge owner small change and over you went. Driving on the rickety wooden bridge was more worrisome than any Border Patrol presence. Presidio and Ojinaga were two sides of the same coin, but because Ojinaga was in another country, it felt romantic…