I MARRIED A DUG DUG
by MARGARET DE LA TORRE WILKEY
My future was up in the air. Where do I go? How do I get to Jorge? Where will the baby be born? The answers started to fall into place one at a time. Jorge would write to me and let me know what was happening. The band was playing little clubs through Mexico City. Armando was working very hard to meet people in the right places to further the success of the band. They were practicing a lot and starting to practice their English more. I still did not know much Spanish. How we communicated through the letters I do not remember. I just remember running to the mailbox every day looking for that foreign stamp and the handwriting of the guy I came to love very much.
Through the kindness of Diane's parents, I stayed with them for a couple of months until the plans for my departure to Mexico City were finalized. There were five members in the band, so there were five different American girls wanting to get to Mexico City to be with them. In April of 1966, Georgianne, who was going out with Genaro, called me and said she was ready to go to Mexico City and that she would drive. "Drive? How far is this place?" I replied in shock. But she insisted, and I was packed and ready to go in no time. Also along with us were Marlene, Armando's new girlfriend, and Sandra, who was Tizoc's. There we were, four of us with visas in hand, heading off into never never land in a little red Renault. We didn't tell the boys we were coming. We just knew they would be thrilled to see us, surprise or not.
Everything went smoothly at first. We were so happy and so excited, traveling throught the country of the Dug Dug's. Can you imagine how we felt? The people, the towns, the aromas, everything was so new and different. We did well for about the first 20 hours -- the car was running well, or so we thought, and each mile was bringing us closer to the band. But then, about 30 miles outside of Los Mochis, in a rural area no less, the car started losing power, and I thought I smelled something. I turned and looked behind us and flames were shooting out of the engine! I started to yell for everybody to jump out. The car was still moving and we all basically fell out into a ditch. The car came to rest about 20 feet from us in the same ditch, by which time the flames were growing fast and furious. We managed to all get up and move away from the car. I had a sprained ankle, but thank goodness no one else was hurt.
We stood by the side of the rode in the middle of nowhere, wondering what to do next. Then, a pickup truck, full of Mexican workers just off the fields, drove by. We all stood around waving our hands trying to communicate with these guys, and fortunately for us, one of them spoke a little English. He said they would drive us to Los Mochis, and maybe we coud take a bus to Mexico City. So we piled into the back of this pick up with just the clothes on our backs and our purses. (Women always have their purses with them, no matter what!) Again through the kindness of the Mexican people, we were given a free hotel room and a free meal. Collectively we did not have enough money for bus tickets, so the owner of the hotel gave us enough money to travel to Mexico City and eat along the way.
The next morning, after we saw the car towed into town and dropped off at a car service, we boarded the bus for the final leg of our trip. We rode the bus for 2 more days, all talking about the greetings we would get from the band when we would knock on the door of the Hotel Colonia Roma. What kind of place is this going to be? Will we set up our little homes in this place? The anticipation was too much.
On the second night we saw the lights of Mexico City in the distance. Our hearts were pounding, my stomach had butterflies and the knowledge that I would be spending the night in the arms of Jorge was almost too much to comprehend. After a couple more hours of traveling endlessly through the city, we finally pulled into the station. The city was gigantic, I had never seen anything like it. We had a few pesos left, so we hailed a taxi, gave the taxi driver the address, and headed towards the Dug Dug's to give them their big surprise.
We got out of the car and went to the front desk. We must have looked like a bunch of refugees by this point, hair uncombed, clothes wrinkled, not having showered in two days. Who cared? We were in love. The man at the desk told us what room they were in. One room? How is this going to work? But up the stairs we flew, giggling, laughing, probably more out of nervousness then anything. We found the room. By now it was about one in the morning. I heard Jorge's voice so I knew they were there and awake. We heard footsteps, and the door opened, and there was Jorge. He looked at us with total disbelief and the smile froze on his face. I looked over his shoulders, and the rest of the band realized who was at the door, and they all had the same look on their faces. After what seemed like an eternity, Jorge invited us in -- but not before we asked them for the rest of the cab fare!
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