In West Texas border town, a change of heart
Many Democratic officials going over to Republican side
SANDERSON, Texas — In a remote corner of West Texas along the Rio Grande, where cactuses far outnumber residents, and the closest grocer is an hour’s drive, a quiet political upheaval has been taking place.
First, the Democratic county judge said she would seek another term — as a Republican. Then the county clerk and the treasurer decided that they, too, would abandon the Democratic Party, which has long held sway in local elections, and run this year as Republicans.
A county justice of the peace felt the urge to switch parties as well, but she did not want to disappoint her parents, who raised her as a Democrat.
“It took me awhile to realize that my thoughts are more Republican,” said the justice of the peace, Corina Arredondo, particularly on the issues of abortion and border security. “Even though I’m still on this side, I’m kind of looking over there and thinking, hey, that’s where I belong.”
The transformation of politics in Terrell County — a working-class border community of fewer than 1,000 people — provides an ominous signal for Texas Democrats: Conservative Hispanics are not only realigning in presidential elections, but also in contests much closer to home.
“Being of a Hispanic background, we were always told, you’re a Democrat,” said the county treasurer, Rebecca Luevano, 44, who was raised in Sanderson, where most county residents live. “Everybody was a Democrat the last time I ran.”
Split political allegiances had held in the small town for much longer than in other parts of the country.
Even as residents voted overwhelmingly for President Donald Trump in both 2016 and 2020, continuing their support for every Republican presidential candidate since George W. Bush, its top local officials remained with the Democratic Party.
The party was deeply connected to the upbringing of many residents, raised in a grid of modest homes in a canyon valley about 20 rough miles from the Mexican border. Many worked at the railroad depot that fueled the town’s growth, or had relatives who did, before it closed more than two decades ago.
“My mother’s dad worked for the railroad, and he always said that the Democratic Party is for the working man,” said Les Chandler II, the chair of the county party. “That’s why I’ve been a Democrat my whole life.”
But the shift is evident all around Sanderson, from the Trump signs on some buildings to the reticence with which the remaining Democrats talk about their beliefs. Beto O’Rourke, the former El Paso congressman and Democratic candidate for governor, passed through last month — spending the night at a local motel — but he did not linger.
Sanderson survived a devastating flash flood in 1965, when a sudden wall of water crashed through the desert town, flattening buildings and killing 26 people. But after the closure of the railroad depot, the town withered.
Many houses and storefronts still sit vacant and derelict. Residents either travel long distances for work, some in the Permian Basin oil fields about 150 miles away, or take part in the town’s limited economy of government jobs: the school, the county government and the growing apparatus of border security.
“We aren’t a main stop like we used to be,” said the county judge, Dale Lynn Carruthers, 53, a rancher and former bank manager whose grandfather came from Mexico and whose father was sheriff. “Now we’re a hub — a hub of homeland security.”
Politics in Sanderson have been shaped, in recent months, by the sharp increase of people crossing the border from Mexico.
Not only are more people being caught as they move through the county, but Carruthers said many more appear to be dying in the harsh terrain: 16 migrants were found dead last year. In recent years, the county averaged about two deaths.
The county, with only a few dozen employees and a $2 million annual budget, was ill-prepared to handle the number of dead. Officials did not even have their own cadaver bags, and the $5,000 set aside for autopsies and burials quickly ran out.
Terrell County is set to receive far more than that from the state, about $8 million, as part of Gov. Greg Abbott’s push to increase law enforcement along the border. Abbott has taken an interest in the county and its shifting political winds, featuring Carruthers at an event in McAllen last month to officially announce his run for a third term. The night before, she sat at Abbott’s table during a private steakand-salad dinner.
“The governor gave me the nickname Yellowstone,” Carruthers recalled, referring to a popular television series. “He said, my goodness, you’re true grit, you remind me of my favorite show.”
Also at the dinner, seated with the governor’s wife, were the Terrell County treasurer, Luevano, and the county clerk, Raeline Thompson.
Abbott’s campaign has been aggressively targeting Hispanic voters in border counties and has pledged to spend $3 billion on state and local law enforcement to increase border security. State police and sheriffs in many border counties have been increasingly focused on tracking migrants.
“It’s like I’m still on Border Patrol,” said the Terrell County sheriff, Santiago Gonzalez, who worked as a Border Patrol agent for more than 30 years.
Migrants attempting to cross through the county often succumb to hypothermia on frigid nights or dehydration on hot summer days.
“This is rough terrain, and it’s dangerous,” said Gonzalez, whose mother crossed illegally as a teenager. In addition to the weather, he said, there are “mountain lions, black bear, scorpions, black widows — not to mention the cactus that will stab you as you walk through.”
When Travis Roberts, 60, a former antiques importer from Dallas, arrived in town two decades ago, the town was so empty that he said he could buy a home for as little as $2,000. “I bought 39 houses,” he said, smoking a cigarette in a cluttered office space of the largest store in Sanderson, which sells hardware, Mexican pottery and, for the right price, a huge metal Tyrannosaurus rex. Over the years, he was able to resell all the homes.
The town is also undergoing a different kind of change as the economy of West Texas tourist attractions — Big Bend National Park, the art haven of Marfa — widens its reach. Since December, there is even a place to get a cup of coffee besides the gas station.
“We love coffee, but we’ve never owned a coffee shop,” said Jake Harper, 41, a contractor and glass blower who moved from San Antonio with his wife, Hannah, a Pilates instructor, and their three children. They started the coffee shop, Ferguson Motors, inside a former Ford dealership.
“There’s this misconception that the border is dangerous. But this is the safest place to be. The community is open and giving.”