, Jul. 09, 2005
Tourism dries up after police chief shot in city caught in drug lords' war
By Dianne Solis and Alfredo Corchado
Dallas Morning News
NUEVO LAREDO, Mexico - Bubba Littrell sidled up to his favorite bar stool to sip a chilly margarita at a place he calls his second home: the Cadillac Bar. To get to the storied watering hole of Texas hunters and shoppers in this city on the Rio Grande, the 69-year-old nudged past federal police, soldiers and a few olive-green Hummers.
He wondered: How did it come to this?
Now, many, like Littrell, fear that the Cadillac Bar may be drawing its last breath -- like many tourist-dependent businesses in this city under the siege of warring drug cartels. Shortly after the police chief here was gunned down June 8, the Mexican federal government placed the city under martial law and the entire police department under house arrest as a corruption investigation spread. A new police chief was sworn in Wednesday.
Inside the air-conditioned bar and restaurant, Littrell and his business partner, Alan Stafford, both salesmen of pool supplies, tend to their thirst. ``There are times when we come here, and it is really sad because we're the only two souls around,'' Littrell says.
Then Littrell cuts to the heart of the matter. ``It's the boys up north who just can't say no to drugs,'' he mutters through a handlebar mustache that spreads across his face like mini-antlers.
Drug cartels are fighting for control of a chief artery of commerce, the land port through Laredo, Texas, and Interstate 35. The turf war has shriveled tourism in Nuevo Laredo, a city created 157 years ago when Mexicans decided to split allegiances to the flags and leave the Spanish colonial settlement of Laredo on the north banks of the river after a bitter war ended with the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.
In recent decades, Texans flowed into Nuevo Laredo, too. Downtown, shoppers found jewelry, goblets and pottery. On the outskirts, hunters found dove, deer and quail. And in between, others found brothels, collectively known as Boys' Town.
As the sun would set in a persimmon glow, many ended up at the Cadillac Bar. Gin fizzes and fajitas could be enjoyed, as glass-eyed deer looked out from their wall mounts. Customers would find bartenders and waiters in white jackets and black bow ties solicitous to every whim.
Waiter Vicente Santos pines for the old days, especially Decembers, when Christmas shopping and whitetail deer season kicked up tips. Now, with the bloodshed, ``It's like a live movie, a Schwarzenegger movie,'' says Santos, referring to the action-movie actor who now is the governor of California.
He fears for his job. Across the street, the Victoria 3020 restaurant, with its distinctive periwinkle blue walls, is shuttered. An entire building on the once-busy Belden plaza is for sale. Señor Frog's restaurant and bar closed at the end of June.
Ramón Salido Longoria, the Cadillac Bar's 75-year-old owner, says he can't bear to close it. Four months ago, it was painful enough to close his restaurant, the Victoria. It's located in the house he grew up in, a few blocks from his grandfather's bank.
Salido Longoria is the grandson of Octaviano ``Chito'' Longoria, the patriarch of one of northern Mexico's most famous business dynasties.
Now, Salido Longoria can only cover payroll for his Cadillac Bar two days a week. ``I can't close it,'' he says. ``It is something that represents such history.
``When you talk about San Antonio, you talk about the Alamo. When you talk about Nuevo Laredo, you talk about the Cadillac Bar.''
Tourism dries up after police chief shot in city caught in drug lords' war
By Dianne Solis and Alfredo Corchado
Dallas Morning News
NUEVO LAREDO, Mexico - Bubba Littrell sidled up to his favorite bar stool to sip a chilly margarita at a place he calls his second home: the Cadillac Bar. To get to the storied watering hole of Texas hunters and shoppers in this city on the Rio Grande, the 69-year-old nudged past federal police, soldiers and a few olive-green Hummers.
He wondered: How did it come to this?
Now, many, like Littrell, fear that the Cadillac Bar may be drawing its last breath -- like many tourist-dependent businesses in this city under the siege of warring drug cartels. Shortly after the police chief here was gunned down June 8, the Mexican federal government placed the city under martial law and the entire police department under house arrest as a corruption investigation spread. A new police chief was sworn in Wednesday.
Inside the air-conditioned bar and restaurant, Littrell and his business partner, Alan Stafford, both salesmen of pool supplies, tend to their thirst. ``There are times when we come here, and it is really sad because we're the only two souls around,'' Littrell says.
Then Littrell cuts to the heart of the matter. ``It's the boys up north who just can't say no to drugs,'' he mutters through a handlebar mustache that spreads across his face like mini-antlers.
Drug cartels are fighting for control of a chief artery of commerce, the land port through Laredo, Texas, and Interstate 35. The turf war has shriveled tourism in Nuevo Laredo, a city created 157 years ago when Mexicans decided to split allegiances to the flags and leave the Spanish colonial settlement of Laredo on the north banks of the river after a bitter war ended with the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.
In recent decades, Texans flowed into Nuevo Laredo, too. Downtown, shoppers found jewelry, goblets and pottery. On the outskirts, hunters found dove, deer and quail. And in between, others found brothels, collectively known as Boys' Town.
As the sun would set in a persimmon glow, many ended up at the Cadillac Bar. Gin fizzes and fajitas could be enjoyed, as glass-eyed deer looked out from their wall mounts. Customers would find bartenders and waiters in white jackets and black bow ties solicitous to every whim.
Waiter Vicente Santos pines for the old days, especially Decembers, when Christmas shopping and whitetail deer season kicked up tips. Now, with the bloodshed, ``It's like a live movie, a Schwarzenegger movie,'' says Santos, referring to the action-movie actor who now is the governor of California.
He fears for his job. Across the street, the Victoria 3020 restaurant, with its distinctive periwinkle blue walls, is shuttered. An entire building on the once-busy Belden plaza is for sale. Señor Frog's restaurant and bar closed at the end of June.
Ramón Salido Longoria, the Cadillac Bar's 75-year-old owner, says he can't bear to close it. Four months ago, it was painful enough to close his restaurant, the Victoria. It's located in the house he grew up in, a few blocks from his grandfather's bank.
Salido Longoria is the grandson of Octaviano ``Chito'' Longoria, the patriarch of one of northern Mexico's most famous business dynasties.
Now, Salido Longoria can only cover payroll for his Cadillac Bar two days a week. ``I can't close it,'' he says. ``It is something that represents such history.
``When you talk about San Antonio, you talk about the Alamo. When you talk about Nuevo Laredo, you talk about the Cadillac Bar.''