Eduardo Medina | Community Writer
Blood streaked across the El Salvadoran dirt as a ceramic pitcher struck the face of Andrea’s mother. Her father, wielding a broken handle, screamed at the 6-year-old girl. She was next.
Local parents want a change in policies and architecture.
At sunup, Pine Hill Cemetery opens its iron gates, and the faintly eroded marks of birth and death become visible from Auburn’s dawn.
After graduating and moving out, the two of them see their current home as the gift that will keep on giving.