Dennis Dunleavy

It was in the fall of 1990, near the end of a decade-long, violent civil war. We had crossed under the shadow of the San Vincente Volcano, and the Lempa River to reach a small village in the Department of Usulután. Combatants awaited our arrival and led us to a small compound of masonry houses. While some companions visited with rebel leaders, I sat in a courtyard speaking with a young woman and her mother. Orby told me about the war and how she had joined the rebel army as a girl after her sister had died when a grenade had been thrown onto the floor of the bus she was traveling in. You meet all kinds of people in times of war. Mostly, I found myself surrounded by survivors — those who were either fighting or fleeing. This was how El Salvador was during a tumultuous time, a horrible war.