By Ilene Diaz de Leon
El Paso is failing families like mine. My sister Angelique Diaz de Leon deserves better.
Angelique was killed by an intoxicated driver on Jan 1, 2026. She was 18 when she was killed and we celebrated her 19th birthday without her.
Angelique was a daughter, a best friend, a big sister, a little sister, a tia, a girlfriend and so much more, each role carried with a depth of love that made everyone feel seen and special. She was a beautiful soul, caring, giving, funny, confident, happy, mature yet innocent and pure like a child, close to God.
She never needed a reason to smile but became everyone else’s reason to smile.
Angelique didn’t drink. She was responsible and honest with my parents, she did everything right. She’s not like most 18-year-olds; she already had her future planned out. She was very smart and graduated high school with her associate degree and was already working toward becoming an occupational therapy assistant.
Her life was taken because someone made the choice to drink and drive.
That’s not a mistake, not an accident. It was a choice.
Angelique was not the only victim that night. Her boyfriend, Nick, survived, but survival does not mean he walked away with his life untouched. In many ways his life was taken that night, too.
He now has to live with the trauma, the memories, the pain and the reality of losing the person he loved in such a violent and preventable way. I cannot begin to imagine the weight he carries every single day knowing that someone else’s reckless decision changed his future forever.
There are injuries people can see and there are wounds that stay buried deep inside someone long after headlines fade and the public moves on.
While our family grieves the loss of Angelique, Nick grieves her and a life and future that was stolen from them. Just because he survived does not mean he escaped the devastation.
I am tired of hearing drunken driving deaths described as “tragic accidents.” Call them what they are: Preventable deaths caused by reckless choices and enabled by a system that has grown comfortable with the destruction.
Since losing Angelique, I have seen a side of this system that most people will never see until tragedy forces them into it. I have seen the truth about how this city responds to grieving families and it has changed me forever.
The truth is, the people in positions of leadership, the people responsible for protecting this city and holding offenders accountable, have become desensitized.
Our leaders hold meetings. They gather “data.” They promise conversations and future plans while families bury the people they love.
We are told officials need 90 days to study the issue while there are new DWI arrests every single day. What exactly are they still studying? How many funerals are enough data? How many mothers have to bury their children before somebody in power treats this like the emergency it already is?
From where families like mine stand, it feels like leadership has accepted this violence as normal.
Too often, offenders walk away with probation, reduced charges, fines or minimal punishment while families receive a lifetime sentence of grief. We are expected to continue living after losing pieces of ourselves forever.
That is not justice.
And while offenders are protected by procedure, patience and endless due process, grieving families are left fighting and begging to receive basic communication and urgency.
The man responsible for killing my sister had an active warrant for family violence that night Angelique was taken to heaven. He was arrested 23 days later.
People say he “turned himself in,” as if that somehow reflects morality or accountability. But if conscience truly mattered that night, my sister would still be alive.
After finally being arrested, he posted bond that same day. My sister does not get to come home, my family is not the same anymore and will never be the same, yet the person responsible for taking Angelique’s life was able to return to his family and continue living his life while ours was permanently shattered the moment we lost her.
And despite the severity of what happened, our family still waited more than four months just to speak with prosecutors handling the case.
Four months. No urgency. No guidance. No support. No sense that a human life had been violently taken from us.
The only reason we were finally heard was because I stood before City Hall while grieving my sister and publicly demanded accountability.
No family should have to beg for attention after losing someone they love.
What I cannot understand is this: when it comes to traffic tickets, registration fees, court fines or anything involving money owed to the government, suddenly the system knows how to move fast.
But when a life is stolen by drunken driving, grieving families are expected to wait while officials explain “the process.”
Why is there more visible urgency over collecting money than responding to the violent loss of a human life?
I understand there are constitutional rights. I understand there are legal procedures that must be followed. Nobody is asking the government to ignore the law.
But what families like mine are asking for is urgency, accountability, communication and leadership that reflects the severity of what has happened.
Instead, we hear excuses.
We hear officials talk about not wanting to appear like the “big bad government.” We hear explanations about process, procedure and limitations while families are drowning in grief and trying to survive unimaginable loss.
At some point those explanations start sounding like avoidance. Because no amount of polished political language changes the reality that people are dying while this city moves painfully slow.
What I have learned through this process is something deeply disturbing: many families suffer in silence because they do not know how to navigate the system. They do not have resources. They do not know who to call. They are overwhelmed by grief while trying to understand court dates, prosecutors, investigations and legal terminology.
Because of that, many victims become forgotten. Their loved one becomes another headline, another statistic, another case file sitting on someone’s desk.
I refuse to allow that to happen to Angelique.
I will continue speaking not only for my sister, but for every family in this city that has been shattered by drunken driving and then abandoned by the very systems that claim to serve them.
Enough.
El Paso does not need more speeches about awareness. We need urgency. We need accountability. We need leaders with the courage to stop treating these deaths like unavoidable background noise.
Angelique matters. Her life mattered before her death made headlines. Her life mattered before she became another case for officials to discuss in meetings.
And every single family devastated by drunken driving deserves more than condolences and empty promises after the damage is already done.
The people of El Paso deserve leaders who are willing to confront this crisis with honesty, urgency and action before more innocent lives are stolen. Because if this city continues treating drunken driving deaths as normal, then more families will stand where mine is standing now – shattered, grieving and begging for a system to care.
And by then it will already be too late.
Ilene Diaz de Leon is an El Pasoan who advocates for victims and grieving families who feel unheard by the system.
The post Opinion: My sister was killed by a drunken driver. El Paso’s response has failed grieving families appeared first on El Paso Matters.
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