Sally Denton - The Colony: Faith and Blood in a Promised Land

The SUV in which Rhonita LeBaron Miller and four of her children were killed in an ambush near La Mora, Mexico, on November 4, 2019. (Meghan Dhaliwal/New York Times)

THE

COLONY

FAITH AND BLOOD

IN A PROMISED LAND

SALLY DENTON

LIVERIGHT PUBLISHING CORPORATION

A Division of W. W. Norton & Company

INDEPENDENT PUBLISHERS SINCE 1923

FOR JOHN L. SMITH,

AND

FOR MY MOTHER, SARA DENTON,

WITH LOVE

THE COLONY

, the three young mothers felt uncommonly apprehensive as they prepared to leave the village of La Mora in northern Mexico. Their sport utility vehicles were packed for the six-hour journey, which would include a desolate twelve-mile stretch on a dirt road dividing the states of Sonora and Chihuahua. Each woman had made the trek dozens of times between the sister communities of La Mora and Colonia LeBaron. They were well aware that the isolated and unpatrolled road was also the regular route for Mexicos criminal cartels to transport drugs into the US. But because their interrelated families, who had dual American and Mexican citizenship, had lived in the area for more than a century, and were well known by the cartels, they believed that they were protected from the violence of the drug trade.

The lonely road was rarely used by local farmers and ranchers; outside of the cartels, it was almost exclusively traveled by La Mora and LeBaron family members, for whom it was a shortcut through the mountains. that it is better not to use it: bullets are predicted, a family member said, referring to communications between the cartels and La Mora and LeBaron. In the weeks prior to the attacks, the victims had been alerted repeatedly not to travel the road, but for some reason they had neglected to take the threats seriously.

Each of the three women had an intuition that something was wrong, but they forged ahead, perhaps even knowing they were tempting fate. On November 4, 2019, they departed in their three-SUV caravan, figuring there would be safety in numbers. Each of the women was married, and they were taking with them a total of fourteen children between the ages of seven months and fourteen years old. By all accounts, the caravan was unarmed.

Thirty-year-old Rhonita LeBaron Miller was traveling with four of her seven children. She placed Titus and Tiana, her eight-month-old twins, in their car seats. Howie and Krystal, twelve and ten, respectively, were strapped in with their seat belts, excited about going on a road trip with their mom and helping her with the babies. Rhonita, or Nita, as her family called her, planned to drive partway with the other two women and then veer off northwest toward Phoenix. Her husband, Howard Miller, was flying in that afternoon to Sky Harbor Airport from North Dakota, where the couple had been living for most of their thirteen-year marriage. Ever since Howards brother had died several months earlier in an ultralight-aircraft crash, Howard and Rhonita had begun spending more time in La Mora to help in his parents pecan orchards. Described by one account as a , as one of her aunts described her, she had an infectious smile and relentless energy and could charm everyone.

Just six weeks earlier, she and her husband had decided to leave the US permanentlyHoward had been working with some of his brothers in a fracking business in North Dakotaand resettle in their native Mexico. Howard had been reared on his fathers large farm at La Mora, in the municipality of Bavispe in the state of Sonora. Rhonita had grown up across the Sierra Madre mountain range in the village of LeBaron, in the municipality of Galeana in the state of Chihuahua. At sixteen, she married Howard, her handsome seventeen-year-old second cousin, and now they were building their dream home on a hill overlooking LeBaron, where they would raise their growing family. Rhonita and Howard expected to spend a few days in Phoenix, enjoying the city and shopping for a wedding gift for Howards sister, before returning to Mexico to begin the new phase in their lives.

Thirty-one-year-old Christina Langford Johnson was traveling from La Mora to LeBaron with her seven-month-old infant, Faith. Born in La Mora, Christina was the common-law wife of a native of LeBarona cousin of Rhonitas named Tyler Johnsonand had been raising their six kids in La Mora while Tyler, like Howard Miller, lived and worked in North Dakota. She had recently decided to join Tyler and the large community of La Mora and LeBaron relatives living in and around Williston, North Dakota. raising their children in La Morain the country, surrounded by high-definition views of uninterrupted landscape, as one journalist put it, they missed living together. That weekend, her family had held a going-away party for her in the home where she had grown up. The next day, she was heading to LeBaron, where she and Tyler would begin the process of moving their family to the US.

A lively brunette with warm chocolate eyes, Christina was a gifted pianist and composer. Her late father, Dan Langford, had been the founder of La Mora, and Christina was a , and yet she was sunshine, said her mother. Every time you see her, she had a smile.

Forty-three-year-old Dawna Ray Langford would drive the third SUV in the convoy. The oldest of forty-nine children, Dawna was like a second mother to her younger siblings and was beloved by the many sisters and mothers she supported as they reared their own large broods. Fun-loving and mischievous, she was known as Aunt Dawna to dozens in the La Mora community who frequently sought her open smile and sage advice. happenings and turn them into stories with a moral, according to one relative, even if it might mean exaggerating or bending the facts of that story a tad. The plural wife of David Langford, Dawna was looking forward to celebrating their twenty-fifth anniversary a week later. She was taking nine of her thirteen childrenranging in age from nine months to fourteen yearsto LeBaron to attend a wedding and have playtime with their many cousins.

Rhonita, Christina, and Dawna were all raised in polygamous families, , a close relative saidGod-fearing women committed to rearing good children. They were related by blood and marriage and had just celebrated together in La Mora to wish Christina Godspeed in her new life in North Dakota.

On the morning of November 4, a Monday, the three assembled at the home of Christinas mother, Amelia Langford, to load their Chevrolet Suburbans. They packed snacks and toys and puzzles for the children, milk bottles for the babies, and, in Rhonitas case, infant seats for the twins, as well as strollers and overnight bags for her visit to Phoenix with Howard. , and everyone left at the farm gathered to say goodbye, Amelia would later tell a BBC reporter. We talked about it. About how stupid we are as women, traveling these roads alone, and with our kids. Christina had laughed, her mother remembered, and said, Im not afraid of anything. Though she then added, I am a little bit, but why should I be? Theres a bunch of us going together. I wont be alone.