When I was growing up, the largest minority group in my school was Hispanic; many of them the kids of people who had come into the area as agricultural workers. (In elementary school, I once complained that, while many of my classmates has Social security cards, I didn’t — not realizing that those who had them, did so because they were earning money in the fields after class or on weekends).
On my way out of the new John Wayne film “The Alamo” one Saturday afternoon, I ran into one of my Mexican-American friends in the theater lobby. While somewhat hesitant to bring it up, because of the way “his” people came off in the film, I asked how he liked it.
With a wide grin, he replied: “We really got them, didn’t we?”