This article was originally published by Deceleration, a nonprofit environmental justice newsroom based in San Antonio.
During the seemingly endless slog that is summer in South Texas, the smell of cayenne pepper from the La Fiesta spice factory caustically mingles with engine exhaust, suspended and heavy in the suffocating humidity. In traffic, I creep slowly toward downtown through the vast skeleton of I-10, experiencing this stretch of my city as it was famously brought to the world in R.E.M.’s music video for “Everybody Hurts.” Hidden behind the on and off ramps, pylons, and retaining walls exists an often invisible slice of our community. This is where he died—alone. Again, my eyes well with tears.
Danny, a slight soft-spoken man in his early twenties, had approached me the weekend prior at the syringe exchange where I spent most Saturdays volunteering. (Deceleration agreed to the use of a pseudonym to maintain the subject’s privacy.)
