One had tried to dissuade brothers, son from heading north

By ALFREDO CORCHADO / The Dallas Morning News

POZOS, Mexico – Five men from this farming town got word on Cinco de Mayo from a local people smuggler that it was time to head north to Texas. The men,
two of them brothers, left on that holiday with a bounce in their step and dreams in their heads, relatives said Thursday.

They shrugged off horror stories that had trickled home of would-be immigrants like themselves dying in railroad cars or abandoned by their "coyotes" in the desert.

Nine days later, three of the men would suffocate in a cargo trailer and the two others would be injured.

The men, relatives said, were not particularly daunted. After all, some of them had already succeeded in prior journeys to El Norte – getting jobs and sending
money back home to build tidy houses and to spoil their children once in a while.

"It's the country of dreams, where anything is possible, anything, even death," said Julian Rivera, 49, whose two younger brothers died Wednesday in the trailer
near Victoria, Texas.

"And yes, some found death, like my brothers," he said, looking at recent photos of Serafín, 24, and Roberto, 34.

The two were among the 18 dead in what U.S. authorities call the worst people-smuggling tragedy in 15 years. The trailer was packed with up to 100 desperate
people, ages 7 to 91.

Also among the dead was Héctor Ramírez, 34, the Rivera brothers' lifelong buddy and fellow Pozos resident.

Julian Rivera's 22-year-old son, Israel, was in the trailer as well. Julian said he was told Wednesday by the Mexican Consulate in Houston that his son was in the
hospital. He had heard nothing since and still feared that Israel might have been badly hurt.

The fifth Pozos resident to make the trip, José Reyes Arellano, age unknown, also survived the ordeal, residents said.

On Thursday, family members sobbed as they wondered aloud how the smugglers could be so unscrupulous as to leave the men to die in the back of a hot trailer
with insufficient air.

"What kind of person would do this?" asked Laura Almanzán Cruz, 32, Héctor Ramírez's wife.

"Animals," responded her friend, María del Carmen Rivera de la Cruz.

"When they left, I always thought I would see them again," said Adlena Gamez Hernández, mother of the dead brothers.

Pozos is a dusty town of 2,070 in the central state of Guanajuato not far from President Vicente Fox's hometown of San Cristóbal. The state sends many
immigrants to Dallas, Houston and beyond.

In a statement, Mr. Fox offered condolences to the families of the victims. He also instructed consular officials to provide aid to the survivors and cooperate with
U.S. authorities investigating the incident.

"The president condemns the illegal trafficking of people and stands in favor of severe punishment for those responsible," the statement said.

In the wake of the tragedy, the Mexican government announced Thursday that it will reinforce its campaign to educate would-be migrants in more than half of
Mexico's 31 states about the dangers of crossing illegally.

About 350 would-be emigrants from Mexico have died annually in the last decade. While some critics have argued that the solution is to stop trying, relatives said it
is not that simple. "No one leaves because they want to," said Samuel Gamez, 30, a brother-in-law of Serafín and Roberto Rivera. "They leave out of necessity."

Like a legion of people across this country of 100 million, the five men from Pozos had grown frustrated with the lack of opportunities, relatives said.

There was little food on the table. Roberto Rivera had another baby on the way. Israel Rivera was planning a wedding. Serafín Rivera wanted to finish his house.
And jobs awaited them in Florida, where the Rivera siblings had a third brother waiting for them.

As with virtually every village in Mexico, someone in Pozos knows a "coyote." The men made contact with two smugglers, "Salvador" and "Feliz." Their contact in
the United States was "Michell," a name scribbled – with a phone number – on a handwritten note Héctor Ramírez left his wife, Ms. Almanzán, "just in case."

The cost would be $1,800 per person – $900 up front, with the rest to be paid once the men arrived in Florida.

After they left on May 5, Ms. Almanzán called three times to inquire about her husband. She was told the group from Pozos had crossed the border safely two
days afterward. They had been taken to a safe house, where they waited to be transferred to Florida.

The waiting, she said, was "despair and prayer."

On May 12, she called again. The voice on the other end informed her that the "load" they had been awaiting from Central America had arrived, and that the group
would depart that same evening.

"It was a long night for me," she said. "I couldn't sleep at all."

Julian Rivera had tried several times to discourage his brothers – and now his son – from leaving. He had heard too many stories. He had grown too weary of the
distance. He didn't like goodbyes. He hated waiting for their return.

Ironically, Mr. Rivera said, his brothers had talked about no longer crossing into the United States. They had returned home last December after two years away.
They had learned once again to cherish moments with the family. They liked to dance, to party. They doted on their children.

But their money was running out.

"Unfortunately, our country doesn't meet the needs of our people," said Patricio Rico Rivera, 39, a nephew of the Rivera brothers.

Julian Rivera said he hopes the government will allow his injured son, Israel, to stay in the United States. "at least a few months so he can work and earn some
money."

Otherwise, he acknowledged, Israel "will return only to turn around and try again."

"My son was born with dreams of being an engineer here, a teacher, anything. But as the years went by, he grew frustrated, his dreams died.

"The United States was the only thing left."

KHOU-TV Mexico Bureau Chief Angela Kocherga and staff writer Laurence Iliff in Mexico City contributed to this report.