While the Media Watches SpaceX, Starr County Gets Bulldozed
While rockets explode over the Gulf and debris washes up on Mexican shores, a 30-foot wall quietly guts South Texas—and no one’s paying attention.


“The destruction of South Texas is not science fiction. It’s happening now. And it’s happening in silence.”
On a quiet Sunday afternoon, the sounds of heavy machinery echoed through the brush near Roma, Texas. Bulldozers and excavators tore into the land, clearing a path for new segments of the border wall. The construction, sanctioned by the Biden administration, is carving through Starr County’s sensitive landscape—an ecologically rich and historically under-protected area in South Texas. The year is 2025.
And almost no one is watching. Border wall fatigue? Probably. The headlines have faded, the protests are gone, and the cameras moved on. What’s left is the quiet grind of construction—no flashy explosions, just the steady hum of machinery carving up the land like ants building a mound. Except this is much worse.
This isn’t some Trump-era leftover. In October 2023, the Department of Homeland Security waived 26 federal laws to expedite new border barrier construction in Starr County. These laws include the Endangered Species Act, Clean Water Act, and the National Environmental Policy Act—critical environmental protections tossed aside to make way for concrete and steel.
Source: Federal Register, DHS Waiver Notice, Oct. 2023



Roughly 20 miles of wall are being built along the Rio Grande, slicing through floodplains, ranchlands, and wildlife corridors. Starr County residents—many of whom have lived here for generations—are being left out of the conversation. Federal officials haven’t held proper community consultations. Public notice has been minimal. And local voices are being bulldozed alongside the mesquite trees.
Serious environmental destruction is underway in Starr County, home to endangered species like the jaguarundi, ocelot, and other rare wildlife. The region also contains million-year-old rock formations and layers of volcanic ash that once preserved ancient tools used by early peoples. That same ash was the source of uranium mined in the area from the 1950s through the 1990s—now being bulldozed without regard for its historical or geological significance.
Access to the construction site is tightly restricted, limited to workers and federal officials. Landowners are facing questionable use of eminent domain and, in many cases, receiving inadequate compensation. Families are losing not only land but also income, as the barrier cuts off access to grazing areas vital for their livestock. Ancestral lands are being divided and degraded, made unusable for the people who have depended on them for generations.
Starr County: Politically Convenient, Environmentally Costly
Why Starr County? Because it’s politically quiet, economically poor, and strategically exploitable.
With limited local political resistance and little national media attention, it’s a prime location for federal and state governments to push through controversial projects. Congressman Henry Cuellar, who represents the region, has expressed support for some border fencing in the past and has remained largely silent on this latest wave of construction.
Cuellar’s balancing act on immigration: Texas Tribune, 2021
Texas Democrats have been hesitant to speak up, wary of appearing “soft” on immigration amid growing Republican pressure. Meanwhile, Republicans—like State Rep. Ryan Guillen, who switched parties in 2021—have embraced aggressive border enforcement as a political brand.
Ryan Guillen party switch coverage: Texas Tribune, 2021
The result: both parties are incentivized to ignore what’s happening in Starr County.
What the Wall Is Destroying
Starr County is home to threatened species like the Texas horned lizard and the ocelot. The new border wall will sever migration paths and block access to water for animals already facing extreme habitat loss. It will also damage culturally significant sites and restrict ranchers' access to land on the river side of the wall.
Environmental groups like the Center for Biological Diversity and the Sierra Club have warned that this wall could be catastrophic for local ecosystems. Yet their reports barely register in mainstream coverage.
Center for Biological Diversity, Starr County Wall Fact Sheet, 2024
What Locals Are Saying
The people who live in Starr County have complex and often conflicting feelings about the border wall.
Many locals are deeply concerned—not only about the environmental destruction but also about property rights and the impact on their communities. Families whose land is being condemned face legal battles and a sense of helplessness against federal authorities. Ranchers and farmers lament losing access to grazing land and water sources disrupted by the wall’s construction. As Scott Nicol points out, Trump is condemning more property in Starr County to build border walls funded by Congress during his first term, and now Republicans want to allocate another $46.5 billion to build an additional 700 miles of border wall and 900 miles of river barrier. Their message is clear: “Our lives, homes, and river mean nothing to the GOP.”


Raquel Oliva explains the deep inequities landowners face in this process: “This is not fair market value as required by law when the government condemns your land. When the government hires an appraiser who is not from the area, is not qualified to conduct an agricultural appraisal, and withholds the appraisal document from the landowner, the owner must hire their own costly appraiser. The government then buys only a sliver of land, making the rest worthless—but the owner still pays property taxes. Worse, if the Corps of Engineers doesn’t design a gate on the landowner’s right of way, the land south of the wall toward the river becomes inaccessible. The landowner loses use of their property but continues to pay taxes on land they cannot farm or lease. This is not fair treatment, and leaves landowners with few affordable options.”
But the Media Only Has Eyes for Elon
While Starr County is quietly being gutted, local news outlets have been laser-focused on SpaceX’s operations in Boca Chica, just 100 miles east. Coverage of Starship launches dominates headlines—even as environmental damage from those launches mounts.
On May 27, 2025, SpaceX launched its ninth Starship rocket. The 200-ton booster detached and exploded over the Gulf of Mexico, scattering debris across the sea. Days later, wreckage began washing ashore—on the Mexican side.
According to KRGV News, Mexican environmental authorities have confirmed that rocket debris, believed to be from the May 27 SpaceX launch, has washed up on Bagdad Beach in Matamoros, Tamaulipas. Pieces of aluminum, plastics, and other materials—some weighing thousands of pounds—are now littering the coastline.
Source: KRGV, “Debris believed to be from SpaceX launch washes up in Matamoros beach,” June 1, 2025
Environmental groups like Conibio Global A.C. have been documenting this debris and raising alarm about its impact. They warn that the detritus threatens marine life, harms local fishing communities, and endangers the endangered Kemp’s ridley sea turtle, whose hatchlings are just now beginning to emerge.
Photos shared by the organization show large tanks labeled with SpaceX tags—believed to be part of the rocket’s fire suppression system—scattered across more than 40 kilometers of beach. Microplastics and aluminum shards are contaminating turtle nesting grounds and nearby waters.
Despite the visual proof and confirmed government reports, most American media outlets have been silent about this cross-border pollution.
Two Environmental Crises, One Media Blind Spot
The truth is, both the SpaceX operations at Starbase and the border wall construction in Starr County are environmental disasters. Yet only one is getting attention.
The SpaceX story captures headlines because of its tech spectacle and celebrity CEO. Starr County’s story—where mostly working-class Latino families live quietly along the border—barely registers.
This isn’t just a media failure. It’s a reflection of whose lives, lands, and environments are considered worth protecting—and whose are expendable.
Who’s Paying Attention?
A few are sounding the alarm:
Melissa del Bosque at The Border Chronicle has consistently reported on the human and ecological cost of border militarization.
Gus Bova at Texas Observer has covered land seizures and wall construction abuses for years.
Groups like Sierra Club, Center for Biological Diversity, and No Border Wall Coalition continue to support legal challenges and community organizing in Starr County.
But it’s not enough.
What You Can Do
Share the Facts
Help amplify what’s happening in Starr County and Matamoros. Share the KRGV story and Conibio’s photos to ensure these communities aren’t ignored.Support Real Reporting
Independent outlets like The Border Chronicle, Texas Observer, and Border Report are covering the issues national media often overlook.Contact Your Elected Officials
Ask them to:
End federal waivers that strip away environmental protections
Investigate ecological damage from both the border wall and SpaceX rocket debris
Support ecological restoration and meaningful community input in border policy
Find your Texas state and federal representatives here: https://wrm.capitol.texas.gov/home
Final Thought
When a rocket explodes and scatters hazardous debris across the Gulf of Mexico, we should care. When a wall slices through endangered habitats and family lands in Starr County, we should care. When both happen—and only one gets covered—it’s time to ask why.
The destruction of South Texas is not science fiction. It’s happening now. And it’s happening in silence.
Update: This essay has been updated to reflect that new border wall construction is actively underway in 2025, to clarify that this is a current, not outdated, account.