© 2026 Connecticut Public

FCC Public Inspection Files:
WEDH · WEDN · WEDW · WEDY
WEDW-FM · WNPR · WPKT · WRLI-FM
Public Files Contact · ATSC 3.0 FAQ
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

The journey 2 siblings made each day during the school year to attend classes

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

A MARTÍNEZ, HOST:

It's Friday - time for StoryCorps. Luis Montero-Adams and his sister Stephanie Machado are U.S. citizens, born and raised in California. When they were 7 and 9, the family was priced out of their home. Their parents, both originally from Mexico, moved the family to Tijuana, just across the border from San Diego. But Luis and Stephanie wanted to keep going to school in the United States, so that meant crossing over with their dad each morning back to San Diego, where he worked as an electrician. For years, their family built lives in two countries.

LUIS MONTERO-ADAMS: I remember when we started crossing the border every day. It was, wake up at 4 a.m., hop in Dad's truck. Mom would make us tacos, burritos. Very few people were driving.

STEPHANIE MACHADO: Quiet.

MONTERO-ADAMS: Quiet. It was, like, pitch black. And listening to music, fighting about the radio station in the morning. Dad was like, Stephanie gets to choose on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

MACHADO: (Laughter).

MONTERO-ADAMS: I used to get Thursdays, and Dad used to get Tuesdays.

MACHADO: (Laughter).

MONTERO-ADAMS: When we would get to the border, mid-90s, there was no traffic. I remember that my dad had friends, like his favorite newspaper salesperson. Like, everyone's crossing the border to go to work or to go to school. And then we crossed the border the morning of 9/11.

MACHADO: I walk into school, and the news was playing, and you can see the airplanes going into the towers. I did not understand what was happening. I didn't know if I was safe.

MONTERO-ADAMS: We went back to Mexico. And on the morning of the 12, we tried to cross the border, and it took us, like, 4 1/2 hours.

MACHADO: All I remember is that the lines were really long. Everyone had, like, a confused face.

MONTERO-ADAMS: All of a sudden, being an international commuter wasn't a possibility anymore. After school, me and Dad would just be driving everywhere, filling out applications - like, please rent us a place. The three of us moved to the U.S., but Mom stayed in Mexico.

MACHADO: That was the first time I couldn't see my mom every day anymore. So we had our life here - you know, go to work, go to school. And then on the weekends, we'd go to Mexico. And then there was this lady in Mexico who used to make raspados, shaved ice. And I remember she would ask us, so where's your home?

MONTERO-ADAMS: (Laughter).

MACHADO: And then we'd be like, we have two homes. And they're like - she's like, no, where's your heart? And I'd be like, I don't understand. Why can someone not have two homes?

MONTERO-ADAMS: I had never perceived the border as a division until 9/11. Having two different cultures - that was my entire life.

MACHADO: Yeah. I had to make a choice of whether I was going to create a life in Mexico or if I was going to create a life in the U.S.

MONTERO-ADAMS: None of this was planned, but there's never been a moment where it's like, I don't know what to do. I guess I'm just going to give up. We're all just like, all right, let's figure it out.

MACHADO: We'll figure it out, yeah. Yes, it was difficult, and it's such a unique life experience. I do feel that I was very lucky, crossing with you and Dad.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

MARTÍNEZ: Siblings Stephanie Machado and Luis Montero-Adams. Their StoryCorps conversation is archived at the Library of Congress.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Esther Honig
Alan Jinich

Federal funding is gone.

Congress has eliminated all funding for public media.

That means $2.1 million per year that Connecticut Public relied on to deliver you news, information, and entertainment programs you enjoyed is gone.

The future of public media is in your hands.

All donations are appreciated, but we ask in this moment you consider starting a monthly gift as a Sustainer to help replace what’s been lost.

SOMOS CONNECTICUT is an initiative from Connecticut Public, the state’s local NPR and PBS station, to elevate Latino stories and expand programming that uplifts and informs our Latino communities. Visit CTPublic.org/latino for more stories and resources. For updates, sign up for the SOMOS CONNECTICUT newsletter at ctpublic.org/newsletters.

SOMOS CONNECTICUT es una iniciativa de Connecticut Public, la emisora local de NPR y PBS del estado, que busca elevar nuestras historias latinas y expandir programación que alza y informa nuestras comunidades latinas locales. Visita CTPublic.org/latino para más reportajes y recursos. Para noticias, suscríbase a nuestro boletín informativo en ctpublic.org/newsletters.

Federal funding is gone.

Congress has eliminated all funding for public media.

That means $2.1 million per year that Connecticut Public relied on to deliver you news, information, and entertainment programs you enjoyed is gone.

The future of public media is in your hands.

All donations are appreciated, but we ask in this moment you consider starting a monthly gift as a Sustainer to help replace what’s been lost.