While we watched it Jake was reminded of his experience in Cabo back in 2005. He wanted to write Glenn a letter to share his story as a testimony of how dangerous it really can be not just in Mexico but in any country, especially one you're not familiar with. We also recently saw the movie Taken. It was really intense and really scary to think that those things happen in our world today. (The movie is about a couple of young girls who go to Europe, meet a "friendly" local guy who is actually a "scout" for these scary prostitution rings....the girls are taken and sold....One of the girls father is a former CIA agent and goes to find her....I highly recommend...best movie we've seen in a while.) ANYways, these things are scary, and people just don't realize. I really liked the letter Jake wrote so I am adding it to this post. Check out Glenn's show sometime. He's a great guy with really good views. And, he's LDS....for all our LDS friends out there :)
JAKE'S RESPONSE:
Glenn Beck,
I am writing in response to a segment you featured on your show on Fox News. The segment was featuring the story of a missing young lady named Yvette Martinez. This story caught my attention and brought back memories of an experience I had in Mexico just four to five months after Yvette went missing.
My brother and I were chosen as Executive Interns by a corporation in Sandy, Utah to travel to Cabo San Lucas to Manage and boost revenue in a unit of the company. My brother and I had both served as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Central and South America. We had a great understanding of the culture and lifestyle of Mexico and Chile. We had just returned from traveling through both countries just days before we arrived in Cabo to start our internships.
Our specific responsibilities in Cabo were to grow and stabilize marketing promotions and grow sales within our specific region. We were well on our way when our world was turned upside down just months after our arrival.
In Cabo, the majority of the financial stability comes from tourism. One to three cruise ships anchor in port during the day. The local businesses capitalize on this flow of tourism. Our business was a major hotspot for American tourists to stop, speak English, purchase our products and move on. Many Americans felt comfortable with the atmosphere we provided and our sales benefited. In Cabo we were known for our ability to make money, and we did it well. We had many friends who knew us as the American brothers who could speak both English and Spanish and cleaned up financially.
One evening, I was closing out our storefront and working extra late to do so. My brother had returned to our flat (apartment) located on the 3rd floor of our store’s building. Our storefront was all glass including the front doors. The lock for the doors was located at the bottom of the doors. As I began to close and lock my storefront with my back to the street, two shadows closed in behind me. I glanced backward noticing two individuals; each positioned on one side of my body. At that point I thought I was going to be robbed. I figured I could talk my way out of the situation if that was the case. However it was not the case. As I stood and turned around, I found a Hispanic man, standing about 5’-5,”slim, dressed in all black, his hair slicked back. The truth, he looked like a normal Hispanic man from that area. The other individual was a Caucasian man nearing six feet tall. He was clean-cut, wearing a light coat and some shorts. He resembled a typical tourist.
My heart slowed as I realized these were just two guys out and about in search of direction. The Hispanic man lifted his voice toward me. He called me by name. I had never met this man face-to-face nor in any of our business affairs. He mentioned my brother’s name in his rapid-fire Spanish. The Caucasian man spoke and demanded my help. They seemed to fight for my attention. My stomach sank as I slowly noticed the intensity of both persons and the urgency of their messages. Each slowed their speech and started their plea.
The Hispanic man went first. He spoke in a soft tone, as if he was trying to conceal something. He said that the Caucasian man had inquired about some Cocaine, tried the cocaine and gave it back.
When I heard “Cocaine,” I nearly lost it inside. Growing up I had never been involved with any sort of drugs however I knew well the consequences of drugs. I stopped the Hispanic man and told him I didn’t want to dirty my hands with his deal. He said, “Jake, I know you and your brother Matt speak Spanish and English. I know you are successful businessmen. If you do not help me, we will take care of you. If this man doesn’t purchase the Cocaine, we will kill him.” I panicked inside trying to assess my situation. He continued, “If you don’t finalize this transaction, we will take care of you. I know where you live and sleep.” He stretched his hand forward, closed fisted. I could tell a bag was concealed within his grip. He hunched over as he opened his hand to show the deal.
I turned to the Caucasian man and let my words fly. Why was I brought into this mess? I asked the man where he was from. He explained his Coast Guard cutter had pulled into port and he was out enjoying the nightlife. I became more enraged knowing that a military man was ignorant enough to pull me into the deal. I explained to him his situation. He eyes looked empty. It didn’t seem to register that this was a potentially perilous situation. I remained soft spoken and explained his life was in question if he didn’t complete the transaction and return to his boat. I also explained my disgust as to his actions.
I returned to the Hispanic man. I spoke frankly with him. I completed the transaction. He extended his hand and I didn’t return the gesture. Before he left, I asked whom he was working for. He said he worked for a large drug cartel. He rattled off the name of the group. It was to quick for me to comprehend but I did catch the word “Mafia.” This word would stick with me throughout the night and the next week.
I watched as the men disappeared into the darkness walking toward the cutter. As I stood semi-stunned as to what had just happened, I realized it was late; I was tired and should probably head upstairs to the flat.
When I arrived in the flat, I said a quick prayer and tried to digest what had just happened. I mentioned to my brother Matt the situation that had just passed. He seemed confused on why and how the Hispanic man knew our names, where we lived and our reputation. We decided to sleep it off and would figure things out the next day.
The next day arrived too quickly. Without much sleep and a long day ahead, we were intimidated with all we had to accomplish. As we worked that day, we couldn’t shake what had happened the night before. We were more alert and our trust in people seemed to wane. On our heightened alert, we noticed Hispanic men, similar in style and appearance of the dealer the night before, were watching us from afar. This literally freaked us out.
We quickly called a government investigator we knew personally from Seattle. He had served with our father in a bishopric of our church. He gave specific instructions. We were to stay across the road in the hotel that faced our store and flat. We were to change our daily routine and were not to travel outside of the city. Also, we were to request an emergency transfer out of the country.
With the knowledge of what had happened, our heightened sense and our discovery of more suspicious Hispanic men toiling about, we decided to book ourselves into the hotel. Luckily we had a room with a direct view of our store and flat.
That night a group of men, all Hispanic, broke into our flat, turned on the light and were rummaging through our small flat. We watched in amazement, as they didn’t take any of our valuables. It seemed as if they were looking for one thing, us.
Every time we left the hotel, we noticed two men following us. We knew it wasn’t just a coincidence this was happening just days after I was forced to assist in a small but substantial transaction. It wasn’t coincidence that that man knew our names. We couldn’t turn to the police because the police are easily bought off or killed if they don’t participate.
To condense the rest of the story, we caught a plane out of Cabo over a week later. Our Corporate offices re-located us to Cancun where we assisted in an acquisition and revitalization of a damaged franchise.
I am sending you this story because I truly believe had it not been that we were together, in full sobriety, alert and aware, we could have fallen victim to the powerhouse of drug czars that control and operate the country of Mexico.
I find it absolutely astonishing that people believe their rights, safety and stability are intact in foreign countries. It blows my mind to think of the half naked American girls wandering the streets in drunkenness after a long night of partying. It is beyond belief the naiveté young people have as to how this world, both within and outside our borders, works. I am enamored at the ignorance that sailor had as to his own life and ours.
What I am saying is that there is neither coincidence nor accident people like Natalie Holloway and Yvette Martinez go missing. I hope and pray they are found and brought back safely without harm or accident but that’s being incredibly optimistic. I have come face to face with these slum bags and I write this story to send a warning cry to all to be aware. I didn’t do anything wrong but yet even as I was aware, I found myself in a potentially perilous situation.
Glen, there is much more to my story…I wanted to give you a glimpse of my experience and let you know that bad people are real and they are really good at being bad. They don’t have any regard for life, liberty, happiness or what is “fair.”
Please continue sounding the trump and shedding light on these horrible events. As I said before, I hope those girls are found alive and salvageable. Good luck.
