Remembering the time I went on a school trip to Mexico City in the 80s. I remember soon after arriving to our hotel with its incredibly fast elevator we found ourselves pinned down to the floor by gunfire coming from the rooftop next door. Bullets were flying.
We being staff and students lying on concrete floors covered with cheap dirty carpet. It was evening. Police were returning fire from lower floors of the hotel below. I remember I had been watching the sunset from the hotel window, watching the roundabout below, catching the breeze, cop cars streaming in from all directions below. A half dozen, dozen, two dozen. There was the sound of gunfire and sirens. Someone pulled me into a hallway and told me to cover my head. Making memories.
Night fell, the gunman was killed. The lockdown was lifted. So we went for a guacamole burger down the street, as one does.The next day I looked for the story in the paper, tried to piece it together. I found a “newspaper” and learned about the gruesome crime story presentation of tabloids like El Alarma.
Fifty State Banana 