Honduran father and two sons at the Greyhound bus station, San Diego (Photo: Mimi Pollack)
Helping others is not political. It’s good for the soul. When you help others, you forget about your own problems for awhile. In addition, nobody should make you feel bad about who you decide to help. In my case, as a writer, I have interviewed many good folks assisting others — be they two-legged or four-legged — and ended up also giving to many charitable human and animal organizations.
I had wanted to find a way to help the mothers and especially the children in detention centers. My first thought was to bring stuffed animals to comfort the children at one of the centers, but that didn’t work out.
Then a successful business woman I know, who came here from Central America more than 30 years ago, told me about going to the local bus station to bring things to the mothers and children ICE was dropping off there. I decided that was a concrete way I could help.
With the generous help of a good friend and my sister, we made up five bags of food, water, and toiletries, and took them to the bus station. At first, we scoped out the situation and “stalked the bus station” if you will.
Our first attempt was unsuccessful because we got there too late. We found out from the cashier the detention center van usually arrived earlier in the afternoon.
On a side note, I was a bit shocked by the new bus station location. Before Greyhound moved, it used to be a bus depot with a building. Now it’s a small outdoor affair with some benches and an little awning overhang to protect from the sun — a really a poor excuse for a bus station.
We returned the next day right before 4 p.m. A security guard asked us for tickets. When I told him we didn’t have any and explained what we were doing, he was sympathetic and told us to wait behind the building until a white van pulled up.
About five minutes later, a white van arrived. Two mothers and their children got out and after the detention guards left, the same security guard told the mothers to come see us. As a bilingual Latino himself, he truly has a heart. One mother was from Mexico and one from El Salvador. There may have been a third mother, but we couldn’t be sure. There were several children and all of them were shocked and thrilled with the bags we gave them. My tender-hearted sister cried.
From what I have been able to gather, these are folks have been released because they have family members in the U.S. vouching for them. They are still wearing ankle bracelets and are required to check in.
The next week we went back with more bags. This time, I looked for the same security guard. The white van had already come and left and there were several families of single mothers and fathers with their children. They were from Mexico, El Salvador, and Honduras. They all thanked us profusely and even sent their children over to thank us. The children tore into the cookies.
One man from Honduras stood out. He was traveling with his two sons and looked worried. He asked if he could borrow a phone to call his family in Virginia. He didn’t have a ticket or any money except for Lempiras (Honduran currency). We lent him a phone and he reached his family, but he and his young sons had to spend the night at the bus station. We ran quickly to get them food. He insisted on giving us some Lempiras in return!
As we parted, he said, “Que Dios los bendiga,” or “May God bless you.” May he and his sons find a better life.
We have been going every week now. This may be a drop in the bucket, but it’s better to help a few than do nothing.
Mimi Pollack
Latest posts by Mimi Pollack (see all)
- Immigrant Families, Food, and Stalking a Border Town Greyhound Bus Station - August 13, 2018
- Estela de los Rios- An Advocate for Others - August 9, 2018
- John Moore / Juan Moro: One Man, Two Lives - February 28, 2018
