Thread by @mollyhf

What happens when a reporter and photographer move to the Texas border for a few months to write about life at the edge of the Rio Grande? Our first story appears today on @latimes with help from valley native Verónica G. Cárdenas. Here’s why we did it, in a few tweets.

Some background: I’ve been a staff writer based in Texas for seven years. Before that, I worked in Los Angeles with @rgaut999, a longtime staff photographer based there. Together, we had covered “zero tolerance” immigrant family separations in the Rio Grande Valley last summer.

We wanted to write about the experience of living in the valley from residents’ perspective. We weighed options before deciding where to live: Roma, Texas. Here’s where we rented a house, in the De La Cruz colonia, or neighborhood.

Here's the house we rented

Roma is a beautiful place, a birding spot with majestic bluffs where Tejano families trace their roots to Spanish land grants in the 1700s.

See if you can find @rgaut999

“Viva Zapata” was filmed in Roma in 1952, starring Marlon Brando and Anthony Quinn, with resident’s forebearers as extras. Lupita Rios’ parents met while watching filming. Many landmarks in the film – the downtown plaza, church and historical buildings – remain.

This Viva Zapata poster is at the J.C. Ramirez store

That's me

Roma is also a smuggling hotspot where neighbors must choose who to help: Border Patrol or immigrants. The Rio Grande Valley has seen more illegal crossings in recent years than any other stretch of border. cbp.gov/newsroom/stats…
(bit.ly/2zWqtHC)

Plenty of reporters have done “ride alongs” with Border Patrol in Roma (including me). Neighbors would often ask if we were there to do more of that. No, we said, we wanted to hear from them.

We moved to Roma in July, the hottest time of year, on purpose. We knew the heat would challenge residents, immigrants and Border Patrol. Temperatures rose above 100 degrees during the hottest days, known as the canicula.
latimes.com/nation/la-na-t…

We were perpetually slathered in sunblock and insect repellant as we walked the neighborhood’s handful of streets and grew accustomed to their rhythm.

In the mornings, Border Patrol helicopters hovered above. At night, we heard the agency’s patrol boats zoom past through a thin screen of trees on the riverbank. Immigrants seemed to cross at all hours.

I’m Catholic, so I went to church at Roma’s Nuestra Senora del Refugio – at times with @rgaut99 and Veronica, or with my fiancé. Rev. Paul Wilhelm talked to me about being caught between Border Patrol and immigrants, who have hidden in and around the church.

We ate very, very well. Neighbors made us tacos rojos, picadillo and enchiladas. We visited Tacqueria Elias, Los Molcajetes and that old Texas standby, Whataburger.

During our time in Colonia De La Cruz, a member of the neighborhood’s founding family, Guadalupe Cruz, 91, died in his sleep.

I’m grateful for his patience with us as we hovered around his small home, asking questions and taking photos as he ate his picadillo, covered with spicy chili pequin from the yard.

I always carried treats for the dogs in the neighborhood, who were all friendly – especially our next door neighbors, Chapulina and Nicholas. A neighbor’s dog was hit by a car and died during our stay. RIP Snickers.

One of our neighbors, Rey Rodriguez, is an artist who decorated his car port at the river’s edge with folksy sketches, paintings and sculptures. His favorite subjects are musicians, classic t.v. and movie stars from both sides of the border.

He also plays drums, and was a rock and roller in his day (check him out in the video accompanying today’s story). He eventually decided to paint me and @rgaut999

For those who need a link to the first two stories, as well as photo and video latimes.com/projects/la-na…

Second story today latimes.com/projects/la-na…