A small fence separates densely populated Tijuana, Mexico (right) from the United States in the Border Patrol’s San Diego Sector.
I lived along the violent Mexican border as a young girl. One day, I got a phone call from a guy I was dating, who called to tell me that he couldn’t make our date on Saturday. When I asked where he was, he simply said, “Away
.” A few days later I found out he was in prison. A few months later he was killed.
In the 90’s, this story was very common in Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico, where I grew up. In a matter of two years maybe less, my hometown went from being a peaceful community to a violent city, where blood on the street was as common as a taco shop.
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