Hemisfair ‘68
Most of what follows is true.
Chapter 1: Football
The year is 1993 in San Antonio Texas. Joe Thompson is a thirty eight year old banker who lives on the northside of San Antonio. People with money live on the northside. He was born and raised in San Antonio and followed in his father’s footsteps going into the banking business. He has a family. A beautiful wife, Nancy, his high school sweetheart, a fifteen year old son, Ryan and an eleven year old daughter, Dara. Events he hasn’t thought about in years are getting ready to come rushing back to him like it was yesterday.
Joe is at his desk in the cozy study looking at financials when four gangly young guys dressed in baggy blue jeans and different colored T shirts walk in his office with a smile. One of the guys is Ryan, “Hi dad, how’s it going.”
He looks up with a grin, “Hey, what are y’all up to?”
“We were thinking about going downtown. They’re having a concert at Hemisfair Park. Is it okay?”
Joe smiled, “Yeah, sure. Hemisfair is a great place. I used to run around down there. I could tell you some stories.” As he looked up at the boys he could see they weren’t interested.
Ryan said, “Okay dad. It’s just some park downtown. We kind of need to go. The band is supposed to be great. Sean's mom is taking us and picking us up. By the way, uh, can I get some money?”
Joe sat there for a second with a sarcastic look and a slight eye roll. He then reached into his pocket and peeled off a twenty dollar bill, “Yeah, sure guys. Have fun and don’t be too late.”
Ryan said, “Thanks dad.” As he grabbed the twenty and the boys ran out of the room. Joe sat there thinking what Ryan had said, ‘Hemisfair was just some park downtown?’
He began to drift back to the summer of 1968. Some say that year was a turning point in American history. It was a tumultuous year of race riots, plane hijackings, and the Vietnam War. There were war protests, the Tet offensive, Mai Lai massacre, and the battle of Khe Sanh. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were assassinated. Apollo eight orbited the moon, and the brutality of the police at the Chicago Democratic Convention was shown on live television. The nation was a mess. There were very few fun things about the year for the country.
Joe was lucky enough to live in a cubby hole of a city in South Texas. Most of the city’s population was Hispanic which made for a festive culture. San Antonio was a big city with a small town atmosphere, and in 1968 a world’s fair was coming to town. It changed Joe’s life. In April of 1968, Joe, his mom, dad, and sister had just moved into a very modest home on the southeast side. It was considered the poor side of town. It wasn’t poverty level, but it was lower middle class.
After moving in Joe began to get acclimated to the neighborhood. It was a hot afternoon and he had seen several boys his age on the street when the family moved in. He went outside on a Friday and scanned the block. He saw some kids a few houses down standing around. Joe stood there for a second when one of the boys started motioning for him to come over. Joe walked towards the group. They were standing in a small lot in between two houses. In this neighborhood of modest houses stood the Laxon house. It was bigger than the other houses but not out of place. The Laxon’s had a huge wrap around porch where the family would sit occasionally and watch the boys play. Next to the house was a grass lot the Laxon’s owned. On the other side of the lot was a smaller house where an old couple lived. They enjoyed coming outside and watching the boys play also. They were watching now.
As Joe got close one kid stepped forward, “Hi, I’m Dave. You like football?”
Joe was feeling comfortable, “Yeah, you guys play?”
“Yeah, but we only have five guys. If you play, we can have three on three.”
Joe was enthusiastic, “Sounds good. Let’s go.”
Dave introduced the guys pointing in each one’s direction, “That’s Gary, Birdie, Mike, Eddy, and I’m Dave.”
Joe smiles at each one, “Hi, I’m Joe.”
The boys seemed to accept Joe and smiled as they divided up for a game and were ready to go. They play tackle football for all the marbles. Whatever that means. Apparently, occasionally, the boys bet on the game. That is, when they had money. Joe, Dave, and Mike were on one team and Gary, Birdy, and Eddy were on the other team. Unbeknownst to Joe, Gary and Birdie were really good players. They played on the school football team. Gary’s team kicked off to Dave’s team. Dave caught the ball and ran it back to about midfield. They got in the huddle and Dave called the play, “Joe, you get on the right and take off down the field. I’m looking for you. Mike, hike the ball and see how many are rushing. If they both rush just break out to the left, and I’ll throw it to you. If they rush just one, then stay in and block. On two, ready, break.”
Mike came up to the worn brown leather ball and put his hands around it to snap back to Dave. The grass was already thin and most of the lot was hard dirt.
Dave called signals, “Down, set, hut one, hut two.”
The ball was snapped, and Joe ran down the field. Two guys rushed so Mike broke off to the left and Dave threw him the ball. Mike caught it and ran as far as he could. Mike had some kind of disease when he was young, and one leg was shorter than the other. He wasn’t an athlete, but he loved to play. He made a good run before he was tackled. The boys made a few more plays and then Dave hit Joe coming across the middle for a touchdown. Wow! They could hear the old couple cheering. They scored on the real players. Dave started doing his celebratory gesture. It was a gesture Joe would come to know well. He put his hand over his head with his index finger out and cock it back and forth while yelling in a high pitched voice and a contorted face, zu zu zuaaaaa. It was from a cartoon he watched on Saturday mornings. Joe would find out in the coming days Dave had a celebration zua and we’re in big trouble zua. When he did the big trouble zua, he put his index finger close to his face and cocked it one time while making the noise and contorted face. When he did this, it usually meant run!
The boys celebrated yakking it up and talking trash. Dave kicked off to Gary’s team. A few plays later Gary threw a long pass to Birdie for a touchdown. The game went back and forth. After a while the boys were drenched in sweat, and dog tired. The group decided to call it quits. Of course, Gary’s team happened to be ahead.
Joe, Dave, and Mike headed back to their respective houses. Joe was an Anglo. He was a good looking tall, trim kid. He had green eyes and brown hair. Dave was about the same size as Joe. Dave Gonzales was good looking Hispanic guy with brown eyes and jet black hair. He always had a smile and an easy way with people. Mike was a nice guy who was always joking around. He was a little shorter than Joe and Dave. He walked with a limp, but it wasn’t bad. Mike Garcia was Hispanic and had brown eyes and jet black hair. All three boys were thirteen years old.
As the boys walked home Mike said, “Hey, tomorrow’s Saturday. Let’s go downtown.”
Dave smiles and nods approvingly. They both looked at Joe and he said, “What’re y’all talking about?”
Dave talked up, “We go downtown all the time. We ride the bus and run around Alamo Plaza. We end up down on the river. It’s fun. Can you go?”
They came to Joe’s house, “I’ll ask my mom. What time?”
Dave thought for a second, “Oh, about nine, and bring some money.”
“Okay, whoa, wait, what? How much money?”
“Just fifty cents or a dollar. Whatever you got. Make sure you have a couple of dimes to ride the bus down and back.”
Joe acknowledged it and went inside as Dave and Mike walked down the street to their houses.
