July 4.
The day's agenda started with a 45-minute drive to Brownsville to check out the city's Independence Day parade.
By the time I parked and walked four blocks into the historic downtown district, the parade was somewhere in the back half.
As I stood at the corner and took in my surroundings, I realized we three gringos from Tulsa were the only non-Hispanics within view.
According to the Brownsville Chamber of Commerce, Hispanics make up 93 percent of the city's population. From 1980 to 2010, the city's population more than doubled from 84,000 to 175,000. Some estimates have the population currently around 183,000.
Politicians cruised by in cars. Young girls in formals waved from a flat bed trailer. A procession of vintage cars got held up when a 50's truck stalled out and had to be pushed around the corner. The grand finale included a group of horses that strutted their stuff to the music blasting from the speakers of a monster truck. There was also a man riding a cow.
The admirers crowding the sidewalk on the shaded side of the street waved at everyone who passed.
I was surrounded by proud Americans. And there's a strong chance I couldn't carry on a conversation with many of them.
It was a rare and unique experience that I'm thankful I had as part of our country's birthday celebration.
On our way to the parade we passed the federal courthouse that has been the site of numerous protests in recent weeks, including a big one last Saturday. Wednesday morning there was one woman on the corner holding a sign I think stated "Stop the Suffering." A few more women were further down the sidewalk. It was just those four.
Following the parade, we drove back toward to the courthouse to see if any protesters were still present.
En route to the courthouse we stumbled across Cameron County Detention Center and a unique advertisement across the street..
There's happy little Bambi and Thumper and a couple minions having a good time right outside the jail. Definitely an eye catcher.
When we arrived at the courthouse there were no protestors.
Not one.
For the last few weeks it seemed like things were heating up. There was all the media coverage. The city trending on Twitter.
Now there was no one.
Had the steam run out of the those protesting after a few weeks? Had they just taken a holiday break from rallying against the government? Was it ever as big as we were led to believe?
As we drove away those questions bounced around my head. I realized I had not even seen a billboard calling for change or anyone on a street corner handing out pamphlets. I had yet to see graffiti about immigration, a poster stapled to a pole or taped to a storefront window.
Had I been naive not to realize the city was full of immigrants? Does that fact play into why there were no major calls to action?
I suddenly had more questions that I had no answers for.
Our next stop was Southwest Key Casa Padre, which houses nearly 1,500 boys ages 10-17. While some have been separated from their families, it's been reported a majority of the boys are unaccompanied, meaning they entered the US without a family member. It's based in a former Walmart.
There's a McDonald's on the corner and a Murphy's gas station, which is where I parked since the detention center parking lot's lanes were blocked by yellow barricades stating "Private Property" or "Keep Out." Security guards walked the lot. There were two security booths to admit the cars that had filled most the lot.
While cars came and went from the center, there were no protestors to be found. There were no other people around other than the employees walking through the parking lot.
It was a surreal experience to be standing that close to a facility full of young boys, who have no idea what will happen to them next. Many traveled alone from Central America and are now detained for the foreseeable future. The traveled a long distance in hopes of living an American dream. Now there some inside who are crammed into spaces that used to be Aisle 13.
There was one more chance to strike gold on finding protestors.
We drove to Port Isabel, which is the home of a detention center for thousands of adults. It is based in a remote area near the airport near the coast. The direct path to the facility is Buena Vista Blvd., which was closed due to construction. It meant a lengthy detour that eventually led to the gated entry to the detention center, which could not be seen from the road.
Again there were no protestors to be found.
That angle in the overall story was officially dead.
Deflated, a bit defeated and mentally overwhelmed, we all agreed we needed to spend time with the ocean, so we made our way to South Padre Island.
On the way, we passed a wind farm that included a gravel road that wasn't labeled private property and wasn't gated. I chose not to even look at Google Maps and turned down the path.
I parked under a wind turbine, got out of the car and marveled at the technology.
There was the constant "woosh" sound of the blades as they revolved. It is a massive machine.
A panoramic, so I could fit it all in. Also explains why there's a glitch in the blades. Notice Peter on the steps looking up.
After a lunch break in Port Isabel we drove on to South Padre Island where we first visited Sea Turtle, Inc., which rescues and rehabilitates sea turtles.
I love sea turtles.
After spending time with the turtles, we went to the beach.
It had been 25 years since I last visited South Padre Island, but it still looked as I remembered.
The water was the perfect temperature. The sand perfect. It was the perfect way to unwind after spending the last three days driving all over Texas to chase stories and learn about life in the Rio Grande Valley.
After recapping the day's events, I have to say it was a great way to celebrate our nation's birthday.
Over the last couple of days I've seen and taken in a lot, and I feel I'm nowhere near ready to share my thoughts on the overall experience. I plan to do that in the coming days.
Luckily, I have a 12-hour drive to continue processing everything. There is also likely going to be a lunch stop in Lockhart to enjoy what many say is the best barbecue in Texas.
As my brief time on the border comes to a close, I wish I could spend more time here, which is not something I expected to say a few days ago.