Patrolling the border, where immigrants wait to be caught
Approaching the Mexican-American border near McAllen, Texas, the border my own parents crossed before I was born, I wondered what I would see — and feel. By reputation, it is a scary place, where gangs dump the bodies of victims, migrants die of hunger and thirst, and gruff border agents pull young children from their parents’ arms. Driving the gravel road that paralleled the border fence, I saw a plastic garbage bag on the roadside. Flies buzzed around it and vultures circled above. Imagining the worst, I called the local police, who asked ...
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