That’s Gilbet waving on the left. The scale of the tower collapse is best shown in this picture, I was damn lucky to salvage it. As with may Kodaks, over time they stick to each other when kept in a stack. The other guy is a local taxi driver, I paid him the whole days wages and then some to get us out to this one-of-a-kind scene. This was early Internet days and it was not known to the outside world.
But it is an demo of the changing times. A tower like this in the middle of nowhere is progress. Within sight here are people living in the middle ages, tending goats, and working hard labor that kills them not long after they turn 40.
I never did find out who owned this tower, the wreckage was still there a year later. Around this time, I made arrangements to get Gilbert to the American embassy in Caracas. This did not happen until years later, and that was the last time I saw him. I did not have enough bus fare to get him back. He insisted he could make his own way and I had to leave it at that.
It was too early on the Internet for me to search for his brother or even if the brother was still alive. My best reference material was the phone book and I found dozens of the same name. Montez is as common as Smith in Arizona, or was it New Mexico?
