The rains surprised us that day, now decades ago, although they shouldn’t have. It was late July, the monsoon season in the Chihuahuan Desert, and we had journeyed, like we had many times, to Hueco Tanks State Park. That day, the hot summer turned cold, and we were unprepared as the rock turned slick under our feet. We found shelter under a slight overhang. Shivering, my dad, my brother, and I pushed ourselves against the rock. It shared its warmth with us.
My father, who grew up in El Paso, l...