The Dallas Morning News
November 18, 2002

Horrific journey haunts immigrants months later

Survivors from sweltering rig take life in U.S. day by day

By DAVID SEDEÑO / The Dallas Morning News

His left arm and chest covered with antibiotic cream and heavily bandaged with white gauze, Guillermo Gallo can't escape the reminders of his harrowing trip aboard a
locked, unventilated tractor-trailer in which two men died last summer.

He doesn't remember the last few hours of the journey and doesn't know whether he wants to push his memory to recall what he and others in the hot trailer said was a
living hell.

"I lost consciousness, and I guess that I was more dead than alive," the 32-year-old taco stand owner from suburban Mexico City said. "If I would have been even a little
awake, I would have felt my skin burning and would have tried to get up."

Mr. Gallo is one of about three dozen Mexican immigrants who survived that tractor-trailer ride and who are busily, but quietly, pursuing their new lives in the United
States. Some work in construction, others landscape homes and businesses, clean offices or work at various restaurant jobs across the country. As a group, they can't
shake the memory of the journey that brought them together and to the brink.

"Right now, I need to find a job," said Mr. Gallo, who owes about $100,000 for his medical care. "I'm thankful for people who have helped us. It's very hard right now,
but I have to think that if I didn't die in the trailer, nor in the hospital, nor in jail ... I'm still ahead."

Also among the immigrants living in the Dallas area who have tried to keep tabs on one another are Guillermo Cabrera, 34, of Veracruz state, and Luciano Alcocer, 41, of Mexico City.

Mr. Gallo, Mr. Cabrera and Mr. Alcocer survived the tractor-trailer ride that began at a mobile home northeast of El Paso and ended at Love's Country Store at Interstate 20 and Polk Street in southern Dallas County on July 27.

Temporary papers

The three men have received temporary visas, Social Security cards and work permits. Some have met with private attorneys to determine whether to file lawsuits. They are required to check in with immigration officials every two weeks, reporting where they are living and whether they are working.

All cling to the hope that their temporary legal status will someday become permanent so that the trip for which they paid smugglers thousands of dollars will not have been in vain.

"Yes, I crossed here illegally and, yes, I know that some people say that we don't deserve anything and we should go home," said Mr. Alcocer, who works at a golf club restaurant in The Colony. "I am willing to work, and I am respecting the laws of this country because right now I'm a guest here, but I hope to be a permanent resident."

Their trip aboard the tractor-trailer rig was similar to countless others this summer undertaken by immigrants trying to get into the United States. Many made it to their
destinations, immigration officials said, while others were rescued from locked tractor-trailers in South Texas and San Antonio. An additional 11 perished in a locked
railroad car found in Iowa this fall.

Immigration officials have declined to discuss specifics in the case of the North Texas immigrants, but prosecutors are determining who will make the best witnesses in
the trial of five accused smugglers, including truck drivers Troy Philip Dock, 30, and Jason Steven Sprague, 27.

The proceeding is expected to start Jan. 20 in U.S. District Court in Sherman. After its conclusion, federal officials will determine the immigrants' legal status.

"I think this is a horrible trick if we are sent back," said Mr. Cabrera, whose younger brother, Pioquinto Cabrera, was one of the two men who died. Mr. Cabrera earns
$6 an hour mowing lawns.

"Did my brother die in vain? There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him and that he paid with his life so that he could help make my life better.

"With everything that I went through getting here, it's not worth trying to get back again," he said. "I'll go back to my little ranch, and I know that my life will be full of
beans and chiles and misery, but at least I'll be with my family."

Last week, the three men returned together to the Love's truck stop for the first time. The smugglers were to drop off dozens of the immigrants who were to be picked
up or would connect to other parts of the country via buses at an adjacent Greyhound bus station.

As Mr. Alcocer and Mr. Gallo tentatively approached the truck stop, they looked around, trying to get oriented as to where they were on that summer day. They paused, wiping away tears when they thought about how close to death they were.

Recalling the day

"I remember just running out, thinking somebody was going to shoot me," Mr. Alcocer recalled, tears welling, as the others nodded in agreement. "I remember falling down, and the next thing was like buckets of gravel on my chest, but they were buckets of ice." Emergency workers were tending to his burns with ice brought from the Love's.

Added Mr. Cabrera: "I got out and I was stumbling all over. I was looking for my brother, but no one saw him get out."

After the immigrants got out, the truck drivers continued north on U.S. Highway 75 and were arrested at a truck stop in the Collin County city of Anna. The bodies of Pioquinto Cabrera, 28, and José Gastón Ramírez, 53, were discovered in the trailer.

Pioquinto Cabrera had been working on a farm near Louisville, Ky. He left his wife and three young children there in early July to see his dying father near Jamapa, Veracruz, Mexico, about 60 miles inland from the Gulf of Mexico.

On July 12, three days after his father's funeral, Pioquinto Cabrera persuaded his older brother to travel to the United States with him, paying a smuggler $3,000 for safe passage to Kentucky for the both of them.

After his death, Pioquinto Cabrera's wife and children – including a 1-year-old born in the United States – returned to Mexico and now live with his mother.

"My family needs money, but at least I can work. Pioquinto's family doesn't have anything or anyone who can help them," said Mr. Cabrera, who would like to find a
second job on weekends.

Mr. Ramírez, a shoemaker from Cuernavaca, Mexico, was on his way to visit his daughters in Chicago.

His widow, Elizabeth Ramírez, 51, is in Chicago on a temporary humanitarian visa given by the Immigration and Naturalization Service. She is attending to legal matters
relating to her husband's death.

"I feel bad that he isn't here because it was his dream to come here to Chicago," Ms. Ramírez said. "I'm just enjoying being here, seeing my children and grandchildren."

Mr. Gallo would like to find work in Dallas before the Texas winter sets in. He was in and out of Methodist Hospital of Dallas over the summer and continues treatment
for severe burns to his chest and left forearm.

Slowly healing

A burly 5-foot-10-inch man, Mr. Gallo used his body as a battering ram to try to open the locked cargo doors on the tractor-trailer. After several attempts he wedged
himself between the hot aluminum doors and the cargo of medical supply boxes. He was able to breathe because of a slight opening between the doors, but because he
wasn't wearing a shirt, his skin burned as he pressed against the doors.

"This is nothing compared to what I had," Mr. Gallo said, pointing to a raised 2-inch-long purple scar near the bandage on his left forearm. "When I first took off my shirt,
I think Guillermo [Cabrera] almost fainted seeing how bad it was."

Mr. Gallo, whose taco stand is in Ecatepec, outside of Mexico City, has recovered slowly with the help of Laura Ovalle of Oak Cliff. She opened her home to Mr. Gallo
and Mr. Cabrera, who has moved on.

Ms. Ovalle was instrumental in securing a humanitarian visa for Mr. Gallo's wife, who cared for him for two months before returning to tend to the family's business in
Mexico.

Mr. Gallo wants to pay his medical bills but doesn't know how that will be possible.

Hospital spokeswoman Kathleen Beathard could not discuss specific cases but said that the facility will look at all types of assistance programs that could help cover
such an expense. She noted that the hospital wrote off more than $47 million in patient care charges last year.

Mr. Alcocer, 41, has been on his own mission, intending to work as much as he can and learn as much as possible about the United States because he doesn't know
whether he'll be allowed to remain.

He had planned to travel to Atlanta to work with relatives doing carpentry work, but after his near-fatal trip he decided to stay with relatives. He earns a little above
minimum wage washing dishes at the golf club. He is buying a car on time, learning English and hoping to get a second job as a grocery store stocker. He'll send any
extra money home to his wife and two daughters in Mexico City.

He said the plight that he and his compatriots shared should demonstrate to others their resolve.

"I am ready to work to show that my sacrifice wasn't in vain," Mr. Alcocer said. "I came to work. I didn't come to take anybody's job."