![]() ![]() ![]() Inside the church, the light from my flashlight glinted off tiny strings of tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Francisco Cantú (The original image is no longer available, please contact KCRW if you need access to the original image.) ![]() I walked to the heavy wooden door and leaned with all my weight to push it open, causing a loud and violent scraping to rise up and echo into the dim interior. ![]() I parked the van and left the headlights shining on the entrance. In the center of the village a small adobe church stood in an empty dirt lot, and I saw that the front door had been left ajar. When I arrived it was just after dark and I noticed few signs of life as I drove past the scattered homes, scanning for disheartened crossers. Even talking about it right now, I can picture the ants crawling across his body.” Cantú’s experiences stuck with him and he’s written about them in a new book. Below is an excerpt: From The Line Becomes a RiverĪt the station I was given the keys to a transport van and told to drive out to the reservation where two quitters had been seen wandering through the streets of a small village. He told DnA that he had been working for Border Patrol for a year and a half when he first encountered a dead body. “I remember that man’s face. He told DnA that he…įrancisco Cantú worked for the United States Border Patrol as an agent in the deserts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas from 2008 to 2012. Francisco Cantú worked for the United States Border Patrol as an agent in the deserts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas from 2008 to 2012. ![]()
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