Trip to Holtville Cemetery

The day trip out to Holtville Cemetery was definitely an eye opening experience. On our way out to a large ranch to leave water for migrants who have been stuck in the desert, we noticed a large caravan of emergency vehicles on the side of the freeway. We were later informed that two bodies of illegal immigrants had been found frozen to death just off the 8 freeway. A few of the adults went back to the scene to leave a young man who is creating a documentary there to gather footage. We then continued on to the property of a woman who allows us to leave water and tarjetas de su derechas or cards of your rights along the trail of the telephone poles. Apparently this is a route that is easy for migrants to follow if they become lost or separated while crossing the border. We left several gallons of water and then proceeded to leave water closer to where the bodies had been found as well. Enrique Morones explained to us that perhaps if they had made it to the water we left or the blankets they often brought, that their lives could have been spared.

After distributing all of the gallons of water that had been donated, we drove a few more hours East until we reached the small town in El Centro County of Holtville. We stopped in front of what appeared to be a small yet well-maintained cemetery. We quietly walked through the graves until we came to a chain hung between two short poles. Beyond the poles was a very large dirt lot turned muddy from the rain. 20 yards or so later there was a hedge that led us into another clearing, although this was not as barren. Rows upon rows of bricks marked the burial sites of over 500 unidentified immigrant bodies. To our right were cement coffins seemingly waiting to be filled. Border Angels had visited the sight many times before and always made and left crosses labeled No Olvidados, Not Forgotten to pay respects to the people buried. However due to the recent storm, when we arrived many of the crosses were snapped in half and because of the poor quality of the burials, many of the graves had caved in.

I immediately began to cry. The mass quantity of people alone was overwhelming. I attempted to plant a cross and did not have the strength which only worsened my tears. I felt as though the one thing that I could do for these people, I was not even capable of. The whole experience was very emotional for me because I remembered being a family member waiting for someone I loved to cross. We had no contact with them for several days and I can't imagine ever finding out that he ended up there, alone, and ultimately unknown. The videographer asked me to speak to the camera and all I could think to say was that if I had never heard from someone crossing again I would rather convince myself that they had simply moved on and forgotten to call rather than imagine them stacked upon hundreds of other bodies in a shallow unmarked grave with only strangers to pay them any respect.

As saddening as the trip was, I'm very glad I went. It was such a realization to see that the several illegal immigrants whom i consider good friends and family could have very well have ended up like the 542 unidentified people we made crosses for. I'm so appreciative for the safety of everyone I know who has crossed and I feel like if more people saw the cemetery and got to know someone who was brought here illegally, it would be so much harder for them to say that all illegals are criminals or don't deserve the same rights as every other human being. It's only after seeing people who are dead that it becomes apparent how significant their lives were.

**11 Hours