Boy, 14, Sought to Join Family in L.A. : Death at Border Shows a Dark Side of Amnesty

He wanted to be with his father, so 14-year-old Luis Eduardo Hernandez left home in Mexico’s Jalisco state two weeks ago and headed for Los Angeles, where his father, newly legalized under the amnesty program, works in construction.

Like so many others, Luis Eduardo was filled with hope for a new and better life as he made the passage north with his brother Angel, 15. And, also like many others, Luis Eduardo never made it beyond the tumult of the borderlands. A boy known for his sense of humor and curiosity, he died 30 feet inside the United States, in San Diego, run over early Aug. 20 by a U.S. Border Patrol vehicle.

On Thursday, natives of Luis Eduardo’s hometown of San Juan de los Lagos--many now resettled in Boyle Heights--buried him near the shade of a pepper tree in Los Angeles’ Resurrection Cemetery.

His death, according to immigrant representatives, is a tragic testament to a darker side of the amnesty program. Now nearly 3 years old, the program has raised the possibility for permanent legal U.S. residence for more than 3 million people, more than 70% of them from Mexico and half of them residents of California.

But immigrant rights activists point out that amnesty--which provided no automatic benefit for spouses and children of the newly legalized--also has served to split families into “legal” and “illegal” members, exacerbating the already deep divisions of the Mexican diaspora. Existing legal immigration procedures can leave families divided for a decade or more.

“No one is going to agree to be separate from their families,” said Rodolfo Padilla, an uncle of the dead boy, as he stood outside the funeral home where the boy’s remains lay Thursday. He pointed to his nearby preteen daughter, all smiles and little-girl frills.

“My little girl,” Padilla said, gesturing toward the child, “she crossed illegally, too.”

Amnesty, according to the Mexican consul general in San Diego, has prompted a huge increase in the number of unaccompanied minors, like Luis Eduardo, who are arriving at the border with the intention of joining newly legalized parents. The children, in groups and alone, can be seen nightly in Tijuana, crouching along the tattered fence that marks the international boundary, frightened but anxious for a chance to dart into the opportunity of the north.

“We see them every day,” said Marcela Merino, a Mexican consular official in San Diego. “They only want to be with their parents.”

Face Range of Hazards

At the border, they face a range of hazards, from unscrupulous smugglers, professional thieves, extortion-minded Mexican police and the intimidating grid of high-speed roadways that converge on Tijuana from San Diego. More than two dozen undocumented immigrants--some of them children--were struck by vehicles and killed as they walked along the border highways in San Diego last year.

The Border Patrol’s motorized fleet adds to the danger, critics say. In the last four years, according to a San Diego human rights coalition, the patrol’s vehicles have run over and killed at least six migrants in the California-Mexico border region. There have been calls for greater safety procedures.

In the case of Luis Eduardo, U.S. authorities describe the incident as an unfortunate but unavoidable accident: The boy was running just north of the border fence when he fell in the path of the vehicle, which was traveling at 10 to 15 m.p.h. and was unable to stop, according to the Border Patrol, a uniformed enforcement arm of the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service.

Michael D. Padilla, a San Diego attorney representing the Hernandez family, asserted that the vehicle was driving at an excessive rate of speed. He plans a civil claim.

Express Little Rancor

Mourners for Luis Eduardo, who clearly believed that the boy had been the victim of an injustice, expressed little rancor. Most had themselves crossed the border at Tijuana at one time or another, and all seem to recognize the dangers--and the reality that not all can make it. It is unfair, they say, but true.

“We take great risks and expose ourselves to great dangers to come here,” said Padilla, Luis Eduardo’s uncle. “One risks one’s life because in Mexico there is nothing for us any more.”

Some, such as Jose Munoz, a native of San Juan de los Lagos who has lived in Los Angeles for 30 years, spoke of the need for greater safeguards.

“Something like this should never have been allowed to happen,” said Munoz, a laborer who has emerged as somewhat of a community activist among the San Juaneros, immigrants from San Juan, who clearly respect his studied thoughts and opinions .

“Supposedly,” he said, “these agents are properly trained to deal with people, and then this happens.”

The decision to bury Luis Eduardo in Los Angeles was made in the hope that the family might someday be together in the city and be able to visit the grave site.

A wake was held Wednesday night. Luis Eduardo lay in a felt-lined wooden casket as his family and former neighbors prayed. The body was dressed in a blue shirt and new blue jeans. Bruises, apparently from the accident, were still evident on the boy’s face.

Thursday morning, there was another church service, preceding the burial. During his low-key eulogy at the Roman Catholic Church at Our Lady of the Rosary of Talpa, Father Honorio Lopez touched gently on the theme of “injustice” as he addressed the gathering of about 120 mourners. He consoled the family with images of a heavenly reunion.

Too distraught to speak publicly were Luis Eduardo’s parents, Aurelio and Amelia, and his three brothers and two sisters. The mother and other children had received temporary visas so they could travel legally to Los Angeles for the funeral. The visas expire later this month, and then they must return to Mexico.