A year ago, I rolled into Eagle Pass, a town on the Rio Grande, full of apprehension about Texas and the immigration crisis. My friend David, another ex-journo, invited me to accompany him to this tiny town that’s become a flashpoint in the militarized effort to prevent immigrants from crossing our southern border.
A year ago, the political rhetoric was toxic. “I have already declared an invasion,” declared Texas Gov. Greg Abbott, who militarized the area for his “Operation Lone Star.” One of his first actions was to shut down Shelby Park, a public space across the river from the Mexican city of Piedras Negras.
We found the riverside park fortified by shipping containers, ensnared in concertina wire, patrolled by a handful of National Guard troops and state police, along with a smattering of helicopters, tents, Humvees, SUVs, and pickup trucks. Later, Abbott or his advisers dubbed this otherwise drab park Camp Eagle. Abbott boasted of his action, “The only thing we are not doing is we’re not shooting people who come across the border because, of course, the Biden administration would charge us with murder.”
Nearby, of course, was the famously unfinished border wall, a project initiated to curb illegal immigration during the first Trump administration. Trump termed it a “big, beautiful wall,” but its design and construction have been marred by controversy and criticism, with many arguing that it is an ineffective and costly solution to the immigration issue. The rusty steel and cement wall remains a potent symbol of the immigration debate, and we were eager to gauge its impact.
David’s focus was on the human stories behind the crisis. He met and photographed immigrants with word tattoos—often a visually and emotionally powerful experience. He wrote a terrific article about this quest for the Atlantic called “The Words People Write on Their Skin.”
My journey to Eagle Pass was fueled by a desire to deepen my understanding and document a situation that had become hyper-politicized. As David’s wingman, I was also there to support his mission. Our time in Piedras Negras, a place with a far mellower atmosphere, provided another perspective on the National Guard’s intense yet makeshift efforts.
I cannot abide hostility toward immigrants, no matter their legal status. Trump’s assertion that “Illegal immigration is poisoning the blood of our nation” is racist bile meant to stir up hostility toward people who are desperate for a better life. More to come? Perhaps.
Here are a selection of the images. One of them, “Big Beautiful Wall,” a diptych, was published last year in a photo book called The Double City.
A view of Shelby Park in Eagle Pass, from across the Rio Grande in Piedras Negras, Mexico, in April 2024.
A patrol boat watches for immigrants on the Rio Grande between Eagle Pass, Texas and Piedras Negras, Mexico, in April 2024.
A National Guard soldier allows a truck to enter recently militarized Shelby Park one night in April, 2024.
A close-up of a National Guard Humvee inside Shelby Park in Eagle Pass, Texas in April, 2024.