Trump May Be Gone, But the Fight Against His Border Wall Goes On

LOS EBANOS, Texas — The men showed up unannounced, but it didn’t take long for Aleida Flores Garcia to figure out why they were measuring portions of her backyard. “We are here to mark where a border wall would go,” they told her last summer as they surveyed the ranch her family has owned for five generations.

Ms. Garcia, the last surviving member of her family, had successfully fended off the federal government more than a decade ago, when a different president, George W. Bush, was intent on building a barrier that would cut across a large swath of her land. Now she stood guard as the men took notes and marked the path of an eventual barrier, tears streaming down her face, worried she wouldn’t be so lucky again.

This time, she feared, the border wall really was coming to Los Ebanos.

A tiny village with fewer than 300 residents, Los Ebanos sits on the edge of the Rio Grande, which snakes around the community in such a way that it essentially feels like an open-air barrier. It is the kind of border community where families with Spanish surnames have lived for generations, dating back to when Texas was part of Mexico. “The border crossed us,” Ms. Garcia and many residents of the Rio Grande Valley, which includes Los Ebanos, are fond of saying.

Now the community has found itself in the middle of a sharp debate over shifting immigration policies, as a surge in crossings has reached levels not seen in more than two decades and as the Texas governor has vowed to further fortify the border.

During a special session that ended late last month, state lawmakers approved nearly $2 billion in funding for border security. While it was unclear how exactly the money would be spent, Mr. Abbott has said he would need more than $1 billion to build barriers along the border. So far he has raised more than $54 million from a website that solicits donations.

Many residents like Ms. Garcia are vocal opponents of a wall cutting across their properties, believing that it is both inhumane and also would barricade their binational and bicultural village from the rest of the border region. More than 100 landowners like her have been sued by the federal government, their land earmarked for parts of a wall that polls show most South Texans don’t want.

“This town is too small for a wall,” said Ms. Flores, 61. “It would feel like we are trapped in our own homes, like a prison.”

But there is also a small but growing group of residents who have concluded that only a barrier could slow down what they see as a crippling surge in migration not seen in decades. So far this year, there have been more than 1.3 million interactions between migrants and border officials.

The debate has pitted some neighbors who favor a wall against the many who don’t. A few doors down from Ms. Garcia, at least one family has publicly expressed desire for more fencing. They declined an interview, but have been vocal about their position that a wall could benefit their town.

The…