PROFILED BY THE BORDER PATROL

 A Border Patrol helicopter flies over the old Dublin Ranch.

The pilot must salivate as he profiles US.

In the late 1970s the Border Patrol would arrogantly drive into the ranch and head for the cornfield at the bottom of the place.

Grandpa had US 3 boys helping with the corn harvest. Pick by hand.

WE would wait for the Professional Border Patrol Profilers.

They would greet US in Spanish.

WE would answer in English.

The 2 agents deflated like punctured balloons.

They knew WE were Americans.

Sure,  OUR old clothes and brown skin got US the profile. 

Racist creeps.