I had been ill with fever for couple days in January 1966. I was only 6 years old. I awoke from a nightmare. I must have had a fever because of my hallucinations while awake, I saw my mother struggling with a giant watermelon in the kitchen and at 6 years old, it was very frightening.
I ran out the front door out into the cold January night. I turned around to see if the horror was gone. It got worse, on the roof I saw a big scary man looking at me. I ran away as fast as I could to get away from the horror. In 1966 southside Midland had very few paved streets. Our street was dirt, rocks and caliche, and painful to run on barefoot. Still, I ran ignoring the pain and cold air. The only things I was wearing was the thin flannel pajamas I slept in. I finally reached a paved road and slowed to a walk. I crossed over some railroad tracks and into town. It was cold and I was shivering uncontrollably. No businesses were open, so I think it may have been between midnight and 6:00 a.m. I tried to shield myself from the cold air by leaning inside a store entrance, still the cold bit deep. I cried from the pain in my feet and the cold on my small body. I felt I was going to die. I cried out loud, "Help me, Jesus," laid down and curled up to sleep. In a second, a man driving by stopped, got out his car, picked me up and carried me inside to his car. Instantly my pain, cold and fears were gone. The man was an African-American man, big by my standards.
"What are you doing out in this cold, son," he asked.
"I saw something scary and ran," I replied.
"Where do live?"
"Across the tracks," was all I could say.
"Where do you want to go?"
"I want my abuelos (grandparents)," I answered. How he knew where my Grandparents' house was? Maybe he knew my grandfather and seen us together.
In 1966 Midland, Texas was very segregated. The Mexicans, African-Americans lived apart in separate neighborhoods "barrios." When we arrived at my abuelos' house the man picked me up, carried me to the front door and knocked a few times. The porch light came on. My abuelo open the door.
"Is this your boy?" asked the man.
My abuelo, surprised to see me, reached out and took me from the man's arms and laid me down on the sofa beside the front door. He turned back to the door to thank and ask the man where he found me, but in that short moment, the man was gone. No car, no tail lights. "No footprints in the sand." Poof, was what Grandfather said about the man.
Next day my mother was very grateful I was safe, after finding the front door of our house wide open and me gone. Aunts, uncles, friends all came to find out what had happened. I told them exactly what I am telling you. They did not believe.
My grandfather believes me. He said, God sent an Angel to save me.