In Herndon, Only Feet Away but Worlds Apart

Luis Hererra, 32, a Salvadoran who arrived four months ago, wanted to know whether it was legal for the Minutemen to photograph people against their will.

"I'm in a foreign country now," Hererra said. "I don't know the laws here yet." Then Hererra's voice trailed off as he noticed a crowd beginning to form around an alcove near the entrance to the 7-Eleven. A contractor had quietly slipped in there, out of sight of the Minutemen, and was beckoning to the workers.

"I need someone who knows how to grout," the contractor, a tall man with white hair under a red baseball cap, announced in Spanish.

The workers pressed forward excitedly, then stopped short as the contractor held up his hand, "But -- it needs to be someone who can speak English."

There was a moment's silence. "I speak English," a young-looking man said hesitantly. "But I've never done grouting. Do you need someone with a lot of experience?"

"Yes," the contractor answered firmly. "This is going to be a very expensive kitchen in a very expensive house. The work has to be done extremely well."

"I have lots of experience, but no English," a man in a white sweat shirt said miserably.

Hererra dug his hand into a pocket of his blue sweat jacket, clenching his fist around a key chain with a picture of his 3-year-old daughter. She keeps asking why he doesn't come home to tuck her in at night, and he hopes that someday he'll be able to send her enough money to make her understand. But first he has to pay off the $5,500 he borrowed to pay the smuggler who helped him across the border.

"Maybe you could hire two of us -- one who speaks English and one who knows how to grout?" he asked with hope.

A Complicated Issue

At 8:11 a.m., Taplin said: "Okay, we're done. Let's go."

The Minutemen had been on the street less than an hour, and Taplin told them to head back to the nearby diner where they'd parked.

"Once we leave, that's when the contractors come around," Taplin said. "What these guys don't know is that we have two guys who stay behind to take pictures after the group leaves."

A few members departed when they reached the diner, but some went inside for coffee. Hillgreen ordered an omelet. They talked about the complexity of illegal immigration and the financial effect it has on their community. They complained that the local, state and federal governments do nothing about illegal immigrants except point fingers at one other. They said they are determined to shine a light on the issue.

Hillgreen finished his omelet, and by 9:15 a.m. they were on the way out the door. "Time to go to my real job," Hillgreen said.

They walked down the front steps of the diner, and Taplin glanced toward the 7-Eleven. A white pickup was surrounded by day laborers. "Look at that," Taplin said, raising his camera for one final shot.