Page8
EL UVALDE TIMES
September 14,1991
Now I Believe!
A ghost story from Uvalde Memorial Park
Por Alfredo Santos C/S
About the Author: Alfredo Rodriguez Santos c/s was born in Stockton, California and grew up in Uvalde, Texas. He graduated from the University of California al Berkeley in 1974. Before going to college he was a migrant farmworker in the states of North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, California and Texas. Today he is a doctoral student in the College of Urban Affairs and Public Policy at the University of Delaware. With his mother, Molly Santos, also a former Uvaldean, Santos operates a bilingual monthly newspaper out of Houston and Angleton Texas. La Voz de Brazoria County is entering its second year and is doing very well.
Articles about Mr. Santos have been written in several major publications. The latest one was in Forbes Magazine in July 1991 and it deals with Mr.
Santos endeavors to establish a jitney service to the lower income areas of Houston. A jitney is a vehicle that provides transportation at rates slightly higher than bus fare and lower than cab fare. The city of Houston allowed Santos to run the jitney routes until he ventured into the more affluent sections of Houston. Mr. Santos has sued the city of Houston for trying to keep him from doing business through a law enacted in 1924. The story that we present here was written when Mr. Santos was in his teens and the way he wrote the story originally, in English mixed with Spanish has a greater effect. It is
translated in both languages for the benefit of all. You, the reader can decide on the reality of this intriguing event. The writer and his friends insist that this is a true story.
Uvalde. A summer night around 1970.
Although its been more than ten years since it happened. Ill never forget it. It was a summer night in this little Uvalde town. I was with Rata, Mofle, Nevarez, Chema, David Luna and another guy whose name escapes my memory right now. We were riding in Chema’s *56 Ford. In those times riding around meant going down Main up to Evans Street, and sometimes down Getty, but just sometimes, if you know what I mean.
It was about 11:30 when the gas guage told us that we would soon have to make a decision, either to put more gas in the car or go home and hit the sack. For lack of money we couldn’t put gas in the car, and because we didn’t feel like going home so early, we couldn’t do that either. So we decided to go to the park (Memorial Park) on East Main for a while.
When we arrived, we stopped by the tennis courts. Someone took out a portable record player and some 45 records. In those times 8 track players were not too popular. We walked into the center of the park right by a big tree and we began to pass the time, listening to records and fighting the mosquitoes.
It was around 12 midnight when we first saw him, or it. Little were we to know that soon we would become witnesses to an event that would remain with us for the rest of our lives. We were having a good time listening to the music and talking when it began to happen. Suddenly the temperature changed and all the noises of the park turned to silence. Even the record player began to loose some of its clarity.
Then we saw it, a silhouette coming out of the golf course. It was about 15 yards in front of the spot where you tee off for the number one hole. As it came closer to the road the light showed us that it was a young boy, maybe 12 or 13 years old. We watched and wondered. Who is this little boy coming from out of the gold course at this time of the night? Something else that was very strange was that he was carrying something under his arm.
By this time everybody had stopped talking. We were all watching this kid. As he reached the road that goes around the perimeter of the park , he stooped down and opened his arms. When he stooped up again we saw a little dog on a leash. The little boy then began to walk the dog along the road toward Main Street.
Rata, Nevarez, and Chema, since they lived in that barrio tried to figure out who this guy was. We continued to watch as this kid moved north along the road. He passed the tennis courts and when he got to the flag pole,
ne turned and crossed the road and went down into the Leona River. The river was dry but to us it was still strange to see what was going on.
Well, we were curious about who this guy was and what he was doing, but not curious enough to go down into the river at this time of the night to find out.
We let it pass and resumed talking and playing records. But about a half hour later, from the north end of the park we saw this little kid again. He retraced his steps but this time he didn’t have the dog with him anymore. Now, let’s see who this guy is, someone suggested. We got up and proceeded to intercept him as he came our way. We walked to the road, but he must have seen us because he crossed over to the other side of the road. Mofle and I were out in front and we started to move a little faster. Then the kid started moving also. He headed into the golf course. In order for us to keep up we finally had to break into a run. Now it was a running chase for this kid. He was fast.
We passed the place where you tee off for the 9th hole, an were heading for the fairway. Mofle and I were gaining on him. We were about 20 feet when it happened. We were reaching out telling him to stop when he began to turn so as to show us his face. But before we could even make out his profile, he burst into an orange flame and disappeared. That’s right, he disappeared in front of us.
We stopped dead in our tracks.
At first we thought he had flashed us with a butane lighter. But the other guys were behind us and they saw the same thing. We were stunned. We didn’t know what to think.
To break the silence somebody said something about an old Mexican saying that where there is a fire there is money. We broke into teams of two and searched the immediate area, still not believing what had happened. After about a four minute search, we all met back with nothing to report. Then it hit us, we had just witnessed an event beyond our comprehension. Something maybe not even human!
We ran back to the car without a word. Chema went and dropped us off one by one. That night, I thought to myself, Was that what I saw real? Now, ten years later I hear people asking questions like, "Is there really a God? Does the Devil exist? Do Pyramids really have special powers? And is Carlos Castañeda really telling the truth?
All I can say is that there are many things in this world that we cannot explain with science or logic. But just because we cannot explain that doesn’t mean they are not real. I know that I’m saying, now / believe!
Need Advertising? Call
Isabel
Gonzales at 278-6007
3 Easy Ways to Advertize in
El Uvalde Times:
•	Call your ad in to 278-6007 or 278-1056
•	Mail it in to 231 S. Getty, Uvalde,Tx 78801
•	Bring it in to 231 S. Getty or
to La Fiesta Bakery #1 at 118 S. High St.
El Uvalde Times
i	SWEETEN POOLS	I
•	and SPAS!	•
;	Jacuzzi Whirlpool Spas	:
»	905 E. Main 278-7008	•
Fiestas Patrias
en Uvalde
Parque Jardín
de los Heroes