Best Decorated Little Whorehouse in Mexico

I've known Ray Williams most of my life and I know him about as well as I know any human being on this earth. Ray lives out there in Blanco County. He's a very private person; you won't find his phone number in the directory and you won't find his name on the rolls of the usual community organizations and service clubs. Blanco County seems to be a repository of expatriates from that emerald city to the South, Corpus Christi. Like myself, Watercolorist Pat Glenn and Professor Bill Pollock, Ray Williams left the Coastal Bend for the joys of Blanco County about eight years ago and seems to have carved a permanent cubbyhole for himself right here among the natives of the Hill Country.

Ray is not what you would call a dynamic force; when he enters a room, no one seems to notice. The few times he's made a speech have been somewhat lackluster; an hour later you would be hard pressed to find anyone who could tell you what Ray said. A week later you'd be even harder pressed to find anyone who remembered that Ray had made a speech. I think the best word to define Ray and his efforts is "USUAL". Ray has the usual family, the usual hobbies, he writes the usual thing in his emails, he says the usual thing in conversation. Ray just lives the USUAL life. He's the usual height and the usual weight and maintains a usual state of mind.

But there is one thing in Ray's life that sets him apart from everyone else in Blanco County and, in fact, from most of the people in the United States. For a four month period of time in 1965 or thereabouts, Ray Williams was the INTERIOR DECORATOR FOR ONE OF THE LARGEST WHOREHOUSES IN MATAMOROS, MEXICO.

Ray believes that this exploit in his life was destiny and that every aspect of his life led directly to that moment when La Senora DeNava said in her cultivated Spanish, "I want you to redecorate my house inside and out choosing the colors that will make American men feel comfortable while they are visiting". And with those words the saga began.

At this point I have to bend to the right, get my face close to yours, look upwards and ask in a knowing voice, "you ain't from around here, are you?" First you have to know how Ray Williams got to the point that La Senora DeNava would make such a request. Having been discharged from the Armed Forces after World War Two and using the GI Bill of Rights to acquire a college degree, Ray taught school for a while, spent some time with a youth organization and around 1960 found himself working for the largest paint company in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. Ray did pretty well in a small store in The Valley and had just been transferred to a much larger store in Brownsville, Texas when the chain of events leading up to this lifetime effort were set into motion.

Secondly, you have to know why Ray found himself dealing with La Senora DeNava and not with Enrique DeNava who was the original owner and founder of the Gold Palace night club in Matamoros, Mexico.

If you drive South out of Matamoros for a mile or two and look to the right you will see a bright glow with accents of color caused by vivid neon signs. At least, if the year were 1965 that's what you would have seen. 'They tell me that's all gone now; like the "best little whorehouse in La Grange, Texas" it's a part of history now. This glow on the horizon is called "Boy's Town" or "La Zona" and by some "la Zona Rojo". This is the prostitution district of Matamoros, Mexico.