Southside Wasn’t My Fate


Northsiders from my society. (How do I know? Trust me I’m a Northsider.) In a parade in Madrid, New Mexico.

I was a northsider. As a boy I never played on the south side, I never ventured after dark on the south side, I never contemplated walking around on the south side during the night dances. I always felt safe on the north side where the mellow people lived (except the Concha’s drama queens who weren’t many, but were enough to kick your ass if you picked on them.) During the foot races, we northsiders were not many and so we had to run three or four times against the army of southsiders. Sometimes they would re-lap us, but we never gave up. Other times our small contingency of runners would beat them out and we would squeeze our brags bone dry for a couple of days.

The Pueblo day school, built in the 1920’s, ¬†was on the south side, so I had to walk down from the north side fields across the bridge and up to the school. During the winter months it was a bit scary for me so I would hurry along to get back to my side. Continue reading Southside Wasn’t My Fate