"It's like you never have to leave."
Mary Green is bouncing on her toes and smiles as she's talking with me. Wearing wire-rimmed glasses and tennis shoes, she moves with a bouncing, energetic candor that you rarely witness. Mary is in her mid-fifties.
"We have shufflepuck, tennis courts, billiards, shows, wood carving, shop and sewing," Mary says. "And we have bingo, sing-a-longs, ice cream socials, donuts and coffee. We even have a Mardi Gras parade and luau..." Mary pauses. "...and a silver smith, two beauty parlors and a chapel."
Mary is also the mail-lady for Fun 'n Sun, an RV Superpark that caters primarily to Winter Texans. Mary has lived there year-round since 2003. With 1400 campsites and a peak population of 1800 people, Fun 'n Sun is by far the largest trailer park in the Rio Grande Valley. It's also one of the most "diverse".
"We have people coming from California, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, North Dakota, Canada and Washington," Mary goes on. "The majority are from the Midwest, though: Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Missouri..." Most--if not all--of the park residents are Caucasian.
I enter the park and make my way to the billiards room. I immediately jump into a tournament and lose twice in games of Nine-Ball before I even understand the rules. I play another game and beat one of the best shooters in the hall (actually he sunk balls one through eight before shanking the nine ball. I put in the nine ball, three inches from the pocket.) Other players laugh and say that they're just "here to have fun"--"We're just a bunch of old farts that have fun."
I laugh, they laugh, and I continue on.
Gracie Cabuto is sitting on a bench and smiles as she's talking with me. Holding her baby and reaching for her two-year-old son, she moves with a maternal grace developed after years of practice. Gracie is in her mid-twenties.
Nearby, a group of teenage boys bounce a basketball on their way across the street. Families chat with eachother about weekend barbacoas. Down Gracie's street are two beauty parlors, a tire repair shop and a string of restaurants. I don't see a chapel.
Gracie is a single mother who lives with her own mother in an indiscriminate trailer park a few miles from the first. Gracie has lived there for the last year. With about twenty moblie homes and eighty residents, the park is similar to others in the Rio Grande Valley. However, it is still very much "diverse".
Aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, brothers and sisters live under one roof. Grandmother and grandfathers share bedrooms with grandchildren. Most--if not all--of the park residents are Hispanic.
I enter the park and step trepiatiously into the dirt courtyard. I'm not sure whom to talk with because all the families look as though they're winding down for the evening. I meet Gracie. She tells me that the news is making a big issue of the increased presence of gangs and thieves in the surrounding community. Her mother beside her nods in agreement. "We're afraid to leave our park at night," Gracie says. "We're afraid that someone might try to rob us."
It's like you never want to leave.
I shake my head, they shake their heads, and I continue on.
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