Even as a boy, I knew there was something unusual, even other-worldly, about living in the Imperial Valley.

We seemed so isolated, more connected to Mexico than California. In fact the valley’s largest city was Mexicali, just across the border, and we’d often walk across for cheap restaurant food. It was an hours-long, 100-mile automobile drive through treeless, boulder-strewn mountains to San Diego, the nearest California city of any size.