We stayed in the small unincorporated town of Ajo, Arizona (population 3,304), the closest town to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. It is an interesting place. We stayed at the Maine hotel, which was very basic, but clean and affordable.

Thousands of years before the town of Ajo existed, the Tohono O’odham people and their ancestors thrived here in the Sonoran desert. Ajo was founded as a company coal mining town in 1847 by the Arizona Mining & Trading Company, eventually becoming the New Cornelius copper mine, an open pit mine. Not surprisingly, the mining company massed produced housing in segregated neighborhoods- Indian Village, Mexican Town and the rest of Ajo for white families. We are happy to say that the town seems quite integrated now.

Strikes and a drop in copper prices led to the mine closing in 1985; many people left and the town went into decline. Retired people then moved in and bought the vacant houses for cheap, ushering in a new era for the town. The International Sonoran Desert Alliance (International meaning the neighboring Tohono O’Odaham Nation, Mexico and U.S.) also helped with the resurgence. “We’re creating something that Ajo needs badly,” said Tracy Taft, former executive director of the International Sonoran Desert Alliance, which is spearheading a multipronged project to bring artists and arts events to Pima County’s far-flung town. “Ajo’s only hope for becoming really a flourishing town again is that kind of niche tourism.”

Most recently, the increase at the neighboring Custom and Border Patrol station from 24 to 400 agents have resulted in another influx of residents. To the consternation of local residents, the federal government spent $12.7 million to build new houses to attract people to apply for the new Border Patrol jobs while existing houses remain vacant. There is also a 27% local unemployment rate, so why not hire locally?

The above excerpt was written by a volunteer with Humane Borders, a volunteer organization founded in 2000, that maintains a system of water stations in the Sonoran Desert on routes used by migrants making the perilous journey here on foot. Their primary mission “is to save desperate people from a horrible death by dehydration and exposure and to create a just and humane environment in the borderlands. We locate our water stations on government and privately owned land with permission from the landowners.” Over 3000 people have died crossing the Arizona desert since January 1999 (Humane Borders website).

It wasn’t always this bad.   A 1994 Clinton-era Border Patrol strategy called “Prevention Through Deterrence” sealed off urban entry points and funneled people to wilderness desert risking injury, dehydration, heat stroke, exhaustion and hypothermia. With this came a dramatic increase in deaths. The Prevention Through Deterrence strategy “directly led to the exponential increase in deaths in Southern Arizona,” according to Martinez, a researcher on the Migrant Border Crossing Study. “The data speaks for itself: There’s a direct correlation between the border buildup and the deaths. It’s undeniable.”

Kind people living near the border have always provided humanitarian aid to desert travelers, so it is somewhat of a misnomer to call it the “new underground railroad”. What has changed is the Trump administration, arresting people for it. A case that has gotten much attention is that of Scott Warren, who was arrested in January 2018 for by the U.S. Border Patrol in Ajo and accused of “harboring” for having given, food, water, clean clothes, and beds to two men, José and Kristian. José and Kristian had left Central America and traveled for several months across Mexico and then for days across the desert. They found their way to the “Barn,” a property used by humanitarian groups and volunteers that operate in the desert surrounding Ajo. Some days later, Border Patrol Agents entered the property and arrested the three of them.

The rural communities, farms, ranches, wildlife refuges, national parks and native lands along the border has been militarized. Ajo Border Patrol station, has been increased from 24 to 400 agents, with a capacity for 900 agents; Trump has proposed management of this land be turned over to the military. O’odham people at the Quitobaquito oasis were, no doubt, the first humanitarians of this place. They welcomed generations of travelers to the desert spring and shared the water and food that was grown there.

Former Tohono O’odham chair Ned Norris Jr. once estimated that before Prevention Through Deterrence, 200 or so migrants crossed the nation each month; once the strategy went into effect, that figure ballooned to 1,500 a day. O’odham lands became occupied territory, crawling with Border Patrol agents, penned in with vehicle checkpoints and monitored 24/7 with the latest in surveillance technology. As the interdiction industry put down roots, an economy for getting past the border guards ballooned. On the economically struggling Tohono O’odham Nation, the allure of potentially easy money trapped more than a few people in the cycle of arrest, felony conviction, and incarceration that plays out in communities across the country, including those far from the border. More enforcement meant more illicit activity, which required more enforcement — it was self-sustaining cycle with real-life consequences for the O’odham people.

People along the border are fighting back, with lawsuits and protests. And they will continue to provide humanitarian aid as they have done for generations. Scott Warren was recently found not guilty by a jury of his peers.

Since it is February, I would like to tell you the story of Valentine, Texas, which we passed by yesterday. Valentine is the ony incorporated town in Jeff Davis County Texas. It has a waning population: now likely less than 180 people, although the sign boasts a population of 217 . In fact, Valentine looks something like a ghost town. The gas station and the store are boarded up and most of the houses are abandoned.

Valentine was founded in 1882, when a railroad crew had finished laying the tracks to the point where a water and fuel depot would be needed. It was Valentine’s Day, so the story goes, and they named the depot Valentine. The president of Wells Fargo and a major stockholder in the railroad was named John Valentine, which is the less romantic and probably real reason for the name. Valentine is halfway between L.A. and New Orleans, almost exactly 1000 miles each way. . In 1900 Valentine had two saloons, a butcher shop and a general store. Area ranchers shipped cattle out of Valentine but by the 1950s with the increase of trucks being used to haul cattle, Valentine’s railroad depot was closed down. At that point Valentine was no longer a thriving railroad community and the majority of the businesses closed down.

But the town still has heart. Jesus Calderon (who goes by Chuy), has been mayor there for 40 years. In addition to being mayor, he taught in the Valentine Independent School District. The school, K-12, has about 40 students. Some years they only graduate five or six from high school, some years one, but the whole town turns out to celebrate the graduates.

The town isn’t so small that it doesn’t have a post office. This is actually their claim to fame. This time of year they receive thousands of cards to be re-mailed bearing the Valentine postage stamp. The cards come from all over the U.S. and as many as 30 foreign countries.

We spent the night in Marathon, Texas about 40 miles from Big Bend National Park. The historic Gage Hotel, is the happening place on main street in this tiny town, population 430. However, it does have a library, post office, bank, community center, general store, school, volunteer fire dept and a brewery.

One of Marathon’s claims to fame is astronomy. It is really dark here at night. Marathon measures a CLASS 1 on the Bortle Light Pollution Scale, which means it is as dark as it gets on earth! Unfortunately, it was snowing last night, yes snowing for the first time in two years. Hopefully we will have clear a sky tonight so we can see the stars.

We arrived in Austin last night and hung out with our nephew, Jim, who moved here two weeks ago. It was nice to see him in his new digs.

This afternoon we went to to the Lyndon B Johnson Library and Museum on the UT campus. The Vietnam War really tarnished LBJ’s reputation and he is not remembered fondly. Today we were reminded of how much legislation he got passed that really made a difference in the lives of Americans including: civil rights act, voters rights act, medicaid and medicare, fair housing act, and immigration reform.

Tonight we went to the Skylark Lounge

Today we drove through Atchafalaya Basin along Rt. 10 to Houston. This is a prime crawfish farming area. I learned that they say “crawfish”, not “crawdad”or “crayfish” below the 38th parallel. Wild crawfish have provided sustenance for Native Americans in the region for centuries. European settlers did not start harvesting crawfish from bayous and swamps until the 1880’s.

Today, crawfish farming is a major industry in Louisiana, producing 100 million pounds of crawfish annually. In addition to farming wild crawfish, it is farmed in ponds that are flooded and drained. Ninety percent of U.S crawfish production is in Louisiana.

Some farmers grow crawfish and rice in the same fields.

There is an art to eating crawfish, a hands on experience. A crawfish boil seems to me to be rather like a traditional New England clam steam, only messier. We did not have an opportunity to participate in a crawfish boil, but it was described to me. A big platter of crawfish, corn on the cob and boiled potatoes is brought out along with an empty pan for the refuse. Then the eating commences with everyone digging in with gusto. The proper way to eat a crawfish is to pinch the butt, break off the head and suck. I saw a t-shirt that said “it won’t suck itself”, which I assume was referring to a crawfish.