American tourists drugged in Loreto

American Scott Myers was on vacation in Loreto, Baja California Sur with his girlfriend during the second week of May, 2012, when both of them had a terrifying experience at Tio Lupe’s restaurant on May 11, 2012. Myers posted his experience on several internet message boards. Here is his description of the events:

A shady cabbie took me here and he might be a part of it but he didn’t hand me the drinks. A beady-eyed, fluent English with American accent, 20 something greeted us with menus after my girlfriend and I sat down. After realizing we spoke English he  said, “oh you’re an American” and snatched the menus from us saying he’d get English menus. I should’ve left then but I didn’t. I flagged him down after not producing “American” menus and ordered four tacos and two coronas. At this point he was sort of cordial and laid out some chips that were not homemade and two salsas. One pink one that looked like watermelon sauce and a creamy lime looking thing. Neither were good.

It took ten minutes for the beers to arrive which were already opened. I’m super edgy and suspicious about the whole situation but my desire for a cold one got the best of me. I was sober before I took the first sip and as I swallowed it I got a head rush. Coincidence? I took a smaller sip and felt the same rush.

Nope. Told my girlfriend to stop drinking. She had one sip.

Within minutes (seconds, really) I felt like I had taken five xanax and was clearly drugged.  At this point I just want to get the hell out, so I ordered my food to go as my cabbie was waiting and paid. He said ten more minutes till the tacos were ready. Really? Twenty minutes to make tacos? Ok. I said we’ll come back and pick it up. We took off and never looked back till the cabbie rolls up 50 yards into our walking dash.

I just wanted to get the hell out so I get in KITO’S taxi. I had my knife in my pocket and was ready to use it. He drops me off and soon my girlfriend and I are safe in our hotel room.

I was loaded on some sort of downer for about 18 hours. Just in time for my flight home.

Horrible end to a great trip.

A local ex-patriot resident of Loreto, Tom Haglund, read Myers’ account and went to Tio Lupe’s restaurant to talk to the owner about it. Haglund reported the following on the BajaNomad message board:

I had lunch today at Tio Lupe’s restaurant. I alerted him to this [story], and he believes it is untrue. His current bartender has been with him 15 years and has not been accused of anything like this before. Lupe is in the restaurant every afternoon and evening and has no recollection of any abandoned dinners or beers in the past few weeks. Lupe Ortiz and I have been friends for 30 years, and if he has dishonored himself in any way during that time I have not heard of it.

Tio Lupe's restaurant in Loreto, Baja California Sur

Actually, reports of tourists in Mexico being drugged and robbed or raped are fairly common. Here are a few recent events, all occurring in Mexico.

  •  Cara and Shawn Unser, a Martensville couple, thought they had planned the perfect honeymoon. It was in an ideal location on the sunny shores of Cancun, Mexico. But they say their dream vacation turned into a nightmare. “Basically, we just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and get back to Canada,” Shawn said. The couple was staying at a five-star resort called the Jade Riviera. One Saturday morning they were lounging at the pool. Shawn says he had three drinks over a two-hour period, and Cara had two. The next thing they remember is waking up in their suite, nine hours later. They still don’t know how they ended up there. “I woke up to Cara being sick over the side of the bed, then I did the same,” said Shawn. “We literally couldn’t move for three hours,” said Cara. The couple says they and the bartender were the only ones to  touch their drinks. The morning after the incident, the Unsers decided to end their honeymoon early and caught the next flight back to Canada. They say after this experience, they won’t be going back to Mexico.
  • March 3, 2012, a poster named Missy: I have just come back from being in cancun for 2 weeks with my mother, I’m 35, and a medic on Alberta oil rigs. While at an all inclusive hotel I was drugged, I went out to meet a girlfriend at the hotel bar and I don’t even remember leaving my hotel room to meet her that night, my mom would’ve never let me leave the room if she thought I was drunk, as I had had 2 drinks with dinner,…I saw the girl the fallowing day and she said we talked for about 30 mins and I never drank anything there, and a few days later a couple called me over to see how I was doing as they met me that night as well…I don’t even remember talking with them, they said I never drank with them either. I was found by security at 11:45 pm swimming in the ocean in front of our beach naked !…they could not find my clothes or purse anywhere…I filled a complaint with the hotel and still have the records, but they did nothing about it. I’m just very glad that a decent security guy found me and wrapped a towel around me and took me to my room, I could’ve been raped or killed or drowned.
  • In a scam that has being doing the rounds for some years, a Mexican expat returning home for the holidays from the United States was drugged and robbed aboard a bus en route from the Guadalajara Airport to the Central Camionera Vieja (old bus
    station) in the city center. As the journey got underway, Eduardo Cruz, 56, from Bakersfield, California, was offered a drink of orange juice from a fellow traveler, with whom he had gotten into a conversation. At the bus station, Cruz began to feel dizzy but he put that down to tiredness from the long journey. The next thing he knew was waking up in the Green Cross clinic located next to the Central Vieja. To his horror, he was missing all his luggage and $2,000 dollars in cash.

BajaNomads: What Lies Beneath – Dennis

There are some good, honest and sincere people who hang out on the BajaNomad message board. Unfortunately, there are also some not-so-good people there too. The dregs of humanity: lunatics, crooks, druggies, perverts, paranoid schizophrenics, psychopaths, sociopaths, alcoholics, senile old farts, pedophiles and plain weirdos. Even more unfortunate is that the person who runs the forum cannot differentiate the good from the bad. Or, maybe that is by design. I don’t know. Even worse than the forum moderator’s inability to sort it all out, is that many innocent readers don’t know what lies beneath. They sometimes get caught unaware in the riptide.


Dennis is hands down the most prolific poster on BajaNomads. He has averaged 10 posts per day for the last six years. It would be an understatement to say that Dennis has “issues.” He comes from a large middle-class family. Dennis was born in Newport Beach. His father was from Jersey City, his mother was from California. There are six siblings. He is estranged from his brothers and sisters.  One brother is an architect in Newport Beach. Dennis thinks his brother is an asshole. Dennis does not even know with any precision where his sisters live, and does not communicate with them. Dennis is a loner. It is his choice.

Dennis lives alone up on a hill in Punta Bunda, Baja California. It is the perfect place for him. Nobody near him, nobody to deal with. He moved there from another lonely property he had near Dulzera, California.

He has crossed paths with several Bajanomads. MeNo has an interesting story about Dennis:

“What you can expect from Dennis.

Some of you may remember a few years back on the Nomads board I was getting quit a bit of flack from certain posters about various things. So never being one to shy away from a personal meeting, they had worked out well with others on the board in the past, most notably with JRbaja, I decided to issue an open invitation to anyone in the Ensenada area to meet up at Tacos de Hiztilapoztile. It is a kind of funky restaurant in the old Segundo district off Avenida Ambar. They serve Aztec style food which is very unique. Several Nomads committed to meeting via the chat board including Dennis.

The day comes around for the lunch and we had confirmed with Dennis that we would be driving him downtown, we both live approx 15 miles from the restaurant so it was smart to car pool. At the appointed time my wife drives up to Dennis’ house to pick him up, while I wait at our house which is on the way. 45 minutes goes by and no wife, so I decide to dive up to see where they are, because we are now going to be late. I get to Dennis’ and neither my wife’s bronco, or Dennis’ cars are there. Hmmmm, that is strange, so I head back to my house. Still, no wife. Well, now I am going to be really late, so I decide to head downtown without them, figuring they screwed up the plan some how, or somehow we missed each other as I was heading out from my house, which turned out to be the case as on the road out to the main highway I can see my wife driving some distance ahead. I drive like crazy and catch up to her at the La Bufadora turnoff. Dennis however was not with her.

I have her park at the parking lot there at the turnoff and she gets in with me. I am not happy, and she is not happy, so after SEVERAL minutes of arguing and aggravation, the story of what happened with Dennis is revealed.

My wife arrived at Dennis’ house at the time we had agreed. When she gets there she says Dennis came out and told her that he had forgot about the lunch, even though we had been planning this thing for weeks and had spoken to him just prior, and that if he was to go he needed to go back in and take a shower. So my wife waited outside his house for about 30 minutes for him to get ready. My wife, realizing we were going to be late, then goes up to knock on his door to find out what is taking him so long. Just at that moment, out rushes Dennis in his same clothes, and with his worn out old briefcase. He then proceeds to tell her that he had forgotten he had an important business meeting, on Sunday no less, and that he had to leave right away. And that is what he did.

Well, the wife and I arrive to the restaurant almost an hour late because of all this. I look like a total ass because of what this jerk off did, but no the less we had a great lunch, and met some very nice people.”

Dennis and the battle of Slauson and Vermont

Over the years Dennis has made it clear on BajaNomads that he is a Vietnam veteran with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He says he has a 100% service-connected disability from the Veterans Administration. He is also pulling Social Security, and apparently some kind of a pension from the bartenders union. A triple-dipper. Of late, Dennis has been trying to walk back that story about being a Vietnam veteran, but sticks to the story that he saw combat. Here is an example of what he has been saying:

The real story is somewhat different. Dennis joined the California National Guard to stay out of the Army and Vietnam. Unfortunately, he could not plan for every contingency.

National Guard on patrol in Watts during riots - "Hey, where's them watermelons?"

On the evening of Wednesday, August 11, 1965, Marquette Frye, a 21-year-old black man, was pulled over by white California Highway Patrol motorcycle officer Lee Minikus on suspicion of driving while intoxicated. Minikus was convinced Frye was under the influence and radioed for his car to be impounded. Marquette’s brother Ronald, a passenger in the car, walked to their house nearby, bringing their mother back with him. Backup police officers arrived and attempted to arrest Frye by using physical force to subdue him. As the situation intensified, growing crowds of local residents watching the exchange began yelling and throwing objects at the police officers. Thus began the Watts Riots.

The next day, August 12, Watts began to burn. By Friday, August 13, 1965, the City of Los Angeles asked the governor of California to send in the California National Guard. The first guard units arrived on scene late in the evening of August 13, 1965. Dennis was among them. 24-hours later, by Saturday afternoon, the riots were over, while patrols continued to stop looting and keep the peace. That was Dennis’ combat, the battle of Vermont and Slauson.

Dennis somehow convinced the Veterans Administration that he was a casualty of those riots. He said he had a gun held to his head for hours and was told he was going to die over and over again. He therefore suffered from PTSD, and could not sleep. He surely was suffering from something, as he convinced the VA shrinks he had PTSD. There is no record in any media of any National Guard soldier being held captive during the Watts Riots. It would make no sense. They operated as military: in companies, platoons and squads. They didn’t walk around by themselves to be captured and held. Besides, Dennis sleeps like a baby.


The Precise Location of Desolation Row

Duluth, Minnesota. Desolation Row is in Duluth, Minnesota.

On June 15, 1920, Duluth police arrested several young black men accused of raping a white woman. That evening, three of them – Elias Clayton, Elmer Jackson, and Isaac McGhie – are taken from jail by a mob and lynched. Postcards of the hanging were widely

Postcard of the hanging - Duluth, Minnesota

It was the John Robinson Circus that brought Elias Clayton, Elmer Jackson, and Isaac McGhie to Duluth. They and other young black men were employed by the circus as cooks and “roustabouts,” laborers who performed a variety of physical tasks. Traveling by train, the circus was greeted by an eager crowd upon arrival in Duluth. They were in town for a free street parade and one day of performances on June 14, 1920.

On the warm summer night of June 14, Irene Tusken, age nineteen, and James Sullivan, eighteen, went to the circus in Duluth. At the end of the evening the pair walked to the rear of the main tent, watching the black workers dismantle the menagerie tent, load wagons and generally get the circus ready to move on. Nobody is sure of what happened next, but in the early morning of June 15th, Duluth Police Chief John Murphy received a call from James Sullivan’s father saying six black circus workers had held the pair at gunpoint and then raped Irene Tusken.

John Murphy then lined up all 150 or so roustabouts, food service workers and props-men on the side of the tracks, and asked Sullivan and Tusken to identify their attackers. The police arrested six black men in connection with the rape. Little evidence would be found to corroborate these claims. An examination of Tusken that morning by Dr. David Graham, a family physician, showed no physical signs of rape or assault.

Newspapers printed articles on the alleged rape, while rumors spread throughout the town that Tusken had died as a result of the assault. Through the course of the day, a mob estimated between 6,000 and 10,000 people formed outside the Duluth city jail and then broke into the jail to beat and hang the accused. The Duluth Police were ordered not to use their guns, and offered little or no resistance to the mob.

The mob seized Elias Clayton, Elmer Jackson, and Isaac McGhie and took the three men to 1st Street and 2nd Avenue East, where they were lynched by the mob. The Minnesota National Guard arrived the next morning to secure Duluth and protect the three surviving black prisoners.

The first verse of Bob Dylan’s 1965 song, “Desolation Row,” recalls the lynchings in Duluth:

They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They’ve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they’re restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Dylan was born in Duluth and spent his early years there. His father, Abram Zimmerman, was nine years old in June 1920 and lived two blocks from the site of the lynchings. Zimmerman passed the story on to his son.


Burning Jews in Mexico

One quaint Mexican town in the area of Ocozocoautla de Espinosa, Chiapas has an unusual Easter tradition: The Burning of the Jews.

While other Mexican states find other ways to celebrate Easter, such as the burning of “boredom” or “bad moods,” as a part of the diverse traditions that strengthen the Zoque culture in that region of Mexico, during Easter Week the townsfolk burn the Jews in effigy.

During the afternoon and evening of the Wednesday before Easter Sunday, they begin decorating the town with effigies of Jews. These are allusions to Judas Iscariot, who sold Jesus Christ for a few coins. For three days the “Jews” are displayed in different places in the towns. In the Unión Hidalgo neighborhood, the “Jews” are hung in the highest part of the church, as an admonition of what one should not do. Everything revolves around the death and resurrection of Jesus.

On Easter Saturday or Sunday, depending upon which town is celebrating, participants march the streets to where the “Jews” are hanging. On each corner, dozens of children beg the townsfolk for money, which they use to buy gas and firecrackers to place inside the hanging effigies of the “Jews.”

This tradition, which has the support of the government and the Church, ends with the townsfolk drinking a rich cocoa pozol while the Jews are burned on Easter Sunday night. The Chiapas Herald, oblivious of the implications of the ritual, reports that it “fosters unity and respect” and “purifies the soul.”