SAN DIEGO _ Fresh out of the academy yet still very much an agent-in-training, Chancy Arnold was finally being given a little range.
He and his partner were told to drive on the border road east, familiarize themselves with the rolling hills and unmarked trails that would become their new office.
As they approached the base of Otay Mountain in San Diego County, they came upon a man lying face down in the dirt. About 50 yards to the south, a flimsy barbed wire fence denoted the U.S.-Mexico border.
Strange, Arnold thought, does he really think he's hiding from us?
The agents yelled at the man: "Get up, we can see you!"
He remained still.
Closer inspection revealed the grisly truth: Someone had driven the migrant through the border, ordered him to the ground and put a bullet in the back of his head.
Even as a rookie, Arnold thought he had a pretty good idea of what it would be like to be a Border Patrol agent. His father had worn the same olive green uniform for as long as he could remember. But the discovery that day was a shock and a glimpse of the ruthless landscape he was now part of.
That was 1985, and Arnold is now nearing 35 years with the agency, making him the longest-serving Border Patrol agent in the nation.
The border has changed considerably in that time.
Arnold has watched the terrain transform into one of fences and roads, surveillance cameras and sensors. He's seen migration patterns turn from single Mexican men to unaccompanied children and asylum-seeking families.
He's had to acknowledge the humanity and desperation of the people he encounters while enforcing the laws and policies he's sworn to uphold.
Most agents retire after 20 to 25 years. But Arnold always planned to work until the Border Patrol made him leave. That will be in July, when he turns 57.
"Since Day 1," Arnold said, "I was going to work until the end."