A wooden cross is laden with Miguel Luna's personal belongings — his construction uniform and work boots, a family photo, the flag of his native El Salvador — but his body remains missing after the collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge.
More than a month has passed since six members of a roadwork crew plunged to their deaths when a container ship lost power and crashed into one of the bridge's supporting columns. Four bodies have been recovered, but Luna an𝕴d another worker, Jose Mynor Lopez, have not been found.
They ♏were all Latino immigrants who came to the United States from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras. They were fathers and hus🎶bands, brothers and grandfathers. They shared a common dream and a determination to achieve it.
In an effort to honour their lives and their work, Baltimore County's close-knit Lati🐬no community has constructed an elaborate memorial near the south end of the bridge. It includes decorated wooden crosses, a painted canvas backdrop, bunches of flowers, candles and a giant modified American flag with six stars — one for each o✤f the men.
A group of mourners gathered at the memorial Friday evening to offer support for the victims' loved ones and remind the ꦜpublic that even as cl☂eanup efforts proceed on schedule and maritime traffic resumes through the Port of Baltimore, two families have yet to be made whole.
“It is one month, and there's still two bodies under the wat🅰er,” said Fernando♔ Sajche, who knew Luna and helped construct the memorial. “We really need some answers.”
Sajche, who ๊immigrated from Guatemala 16 years ago and works in construction himself, said 🐭it shouldn't be lost on anyone that the victims died on the job.
“They're the people who do the hard work in this✤ country,” Sajche said.
The men were filling potholes on the ♉bridge in the early hours of March 26 when the ship veered off course. A last-minute mayday call from the ship's pilot allowed police officers to stop traffic to the bridge moments before the collapse, but they didn't have enoug🌞h time to alert the workers.
One of the officers who helped block traffic sto🐟pped by the vigil Friday and visited briefly with some of Luna's relatives. He admired the memorial and praised the community's warm response to an 💦unthinkable tragedy.
Organizers used two cranes t⛎o hoist Salvadoran and Guatemalan flags high into t♈he air in honor of Luna and Mynor Lopez.
Marcoin Mendoza, who worked with Luna seve🐻ral years ago as a welder, said Luna came to the U.S. to build a better life for himself and his family, like so many other immigrants.
“Same dream as everybody else,” Mendoza said. “To 🎉wo🍬rk hard.”
Luna was especially well-known in his community because his wife has a local food truck specializing inꦑ pupusas and other Salvadoran staples. He would often spend his days helping at the food truck and his nights working construction.
As the sun set Friday evening, mourners listened to mariachi music and passed out bowls of soup and beans.💎 They lit candles and prayed together.
Bernardo Vargas, who helped construct the memorial, said he appreciates being able to do someth🎶ing for the victims' families.
“I'll be here e🥀very day until they🌄 find those two people,” he said.
Standing in front of the memorial's elaborate painted backdrop, he pointed to a cluster of red handprints made by Luna's relatives. They stood out among abstract depictions of the bridge collapse and salvage efforts as well as a violent scene from the US south꧟ern border that showed a row of armoured officers fighting back desperate ⛄migrants.
Loved ones left messages in English and Spanish.
“Here is where everything ends, all your aspirat🍌ions🐻 and all your work. Now rest until the day when the trumpets sound,” someone had written in Spanish. “You will live on in the hearts of your loving family.”
