CALL FOR MILITARY HAS BORDER UNEASY

Town Hasn't Forgotten How Marine On Drug Patrol Killed Teen In '97

REDFORD, Texas - The white cross, fashioned by hand, rises behind an old
well on a stony hill near the Rio Grande. In the fading light of a winter
sky, the cross shines like a beacon.

It marks the spot where Esequiel Hernandez Jr., 18, died May 20, 1997, the
first American citizen in 30 years to be killed by the military on U.S.
soil. A young Marine corporal on clandestine anti-drug patrol shot him.
Just why remains a controversy.

The killing of Mr. Hernandez, a lanky, clean-cut kid known as "Zeke" in
this West Texas border town, brought an end to the use of armed military
patrols along the Southwestern border as part of the war on drugs.

That may change as a result of the Sept. 11 attacks. Congress and the White
House want to place military troops along all borders to guard against
terrorism. In Redford four years ago, it was a recipe for disaster.

"These hills along the river are our back yard. For the government, it was
a battleground," said Diana Valenzuela, who lives a few hundred yards from
the shooting site. "Now, they want to send troops again? That just means
somebody else's kid will die."

The breakdown between federal law enforcement agencies and the military
that resulted in Mr. Hernandez's death was an aberration, not the norm,
said U.S. Rep. Lamar Smith, R-San Antonio. In 1998, Mr. Smith's
investigation of the incident demonstrated numerous failures in mission
training and information-sharing.

"There have been improvements within the agencies that create more
sensitivity to the people who live on the border," Mr. Smith said. "We want
to ensure that we don't mistake the good guys for the bad guys."

Redford, a small farming community 16 miles downriver from Presidio, exists
in isolation on the Rio Grande amid the harsh beauty of the Big Bend
country. Chartered in the 1870s, the village was once known as "El Polvo" -
Spanish for "dust."

Today, about 100 people live in the scattering of faded adobe and
cinderblock homes of Redford. At the elementary school sitting alongside
the highway, "God Bless America" has been spelled out in sun-bleached,
red-white-and-blue Styrofoam cups.

"This is a tiny community. And everyone is a part of the circle," said
Enrique Madrid, whose great-grandfather helped Redford become a town.
"Everywhere we walk, Zeke walked. Of course, his death is still felt here.
They killed 1 percent of our town."

The shooting occurred in the dry ridges and arroyos near the river, amid
the ruins of an abandoned Army post dating from the 1916 hunt for Pancho
Villa, the last military incursion in Redford.

Controversy clouded the incident from the start. On that day, Marine Cpl.
Clemente Banuelos, then 22, led one of the four-member surveillance patrols
conducted along the border in support of Border Patrol anti-drug initiatives.

The Marines operated in secret, keeping watch over what the Border Patrol
said were dangerous drug-crossing points. Residents point out there had
been no drug arrests around Redford for years.

The Marines weren't told that residents used the crossing point regularly
to visit Mexico. They weren't aware homes were set in the scrubland near
their surveillance area.

And no one living in Redford knew that combat-equipped Marines were hiding
in the brush.

The Marines' Account

According to Marine accounts and investigation reports, Cpl. Banuelos fired
one shot after Mr. Hernandez fired twice at the Marines with his antique
.22-caliber rifle and threatened to shoot again.

People in Redford don't believe it. They recall Zeke Hernandez as a good
high school student who didn't smoke, drink, or have trouble with the law.
The young man they knew rode in the annual Onion Day parade and hoped one
day to be a park ranger. He carried the rifle only to protect his family's
goats.

Time hasn't muted the sorrow of the shooting. Or the anger.

"We still have nightmares about it. Anytime a helicopter flies by, we run
out to check on our children. It's not something we're ever going to
forget," Mrs. Valenzuela said. "That day, we learned we couldn't trust our
government."

The shooting spawned a series of state, federal, and military
investigations. For Redford residents, the inquiries generated reams of
paper but no justice.

Series of reviews

The April 1998 Marine investigation by retired Maj. Gen. John Coyne came
closest. Though no charges were filed, Maj. Gen. Coyne determined that the
Marine command, as well as other federal agencies involved, created an
environment for tragedy through inadequate training and poor coordination.

After conducting its own inquiry, the Border Patrol acknowledged inadequate
intelligence-sharing and poor coordination with the military, as well, but
it did not accept any guilt.

In November 1998, Mr. Smith's subcommittee report issued a scathing
criticism of the Border Patrol for its failure to advise Marines about
local conditions and residents in the patrol area and for seriously
impairing the criminal investigations that followed the shooting.

"Hernandez's death was attributable to a series of failures on the part of
the Justice Department and Defense Department personnel who were negligent
in their training and preparation for the border," according to the report.

While the congressional panel expressed doubts about how the shooting
occurred, Mr. Smith said the course of events leading up to the shooting
remained uncertain.

In settlement of a civil suit, the Hernandez family received a $1.9 million
annuity from the government for its loss but no apology.

"The family is crushed, and they're trying to deal with it," said Mel La
Follette, 71, a retired Episcopal priest who has lived in Redford since
1984. "Zeke was a great kid. His death is something they'll never get over.
And neither will the community. This is a community with an open wound.
What will it take to heal? A few indictments would help."

Mr. Hernandez's death resulted in changes. In October 1998, the Pentagon
ended armed military patrols in support of civil law enforcement anti-drug
operations along the border.

Military units still carry out other anti-narcotics duties, including air
reconnaissance, intelligence gathering, and road building along the border
as part of the joint task force with federal authorities.

The House recently approved an amendment by Rep. James Traficant, D-Ohio,
to return troops to the U.S.-Mexico border. Similar efforts died in the
Senate. Next time around, considering the continuing wave of concern over
homeland security, failure may not be an option.

In early December, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft announced that 400
National Guard troops would help police the Canadian border and that
military helicopters would patrol rural areas.

"There is a great national concern about the need to do a better job of
securing our borders. But any use of the military at the border will be for
backup only," Mr. Smith said. "We don't want soldiers out there with the
rifles pointing at everyone crossing the river."

A new presence

Last month, the long arm of homeland defense came to Redford. Federal
authorities blockaded the shallow El Polvo crossing point with a load of
boulders and a barricade as a security precaution. The people in Redford
say that the only people affected by the closing are local residents. They
have used the crossing for generations to see relatives in Mexico.

"They say truth is the first victim of war. That's certainly true in
Redford," said Mr. La Follette, the retired Episcopal priest.

"The Border Patrol told the Marines we were all a bunch of desperados and
narco-trafficantes. They misled everyone then. Are we now going to all
become terrorists?"

Investigation reports show the Marines depended on Border Patrol
intelligence that indicated that drug smugglers made up 70 to 75 percent of
Redford's population.

"Since there's only 100 people here and 24 of them are in elementary
school, that means the Marines were expecting every adult they saw to be a
drug dealer," said Mr. Madrid. He documents that in 1997, there were only
44 drug arrests in Presidio County. None of them occurred in Redford.

The town's anger isn't focused on the Marine who killed the teen. In
conversations with Redford residents, no one speaks badly of Cpl. Banuelos.

"There were two lives destroyed that day - Zeke and the Marine who killed
him," Ms. Valenzuela said. "That's a lesson I hope the government learns."

The hill where Mr. Hernandez died triangulates his short life and death
with stunning economy. From the white cross, a visitor can down on the home
where he spent his childhood, the greasewood-choked arroyo from where he
was shot and the cemetery that holds his grave.

"We hope that this place creates an event so powerful, it changes the
course of the nation," Mr. Madrid said. "We hope the terrible lessons
learned from this hill will mean no other American will be killed by their
own soldiers."