This story is from Texas Monthly’s archives. We have left the text as it was originally published to maintain a clear historical record. Read more here about our archive digitization project. It’s late morning in the steamy tropics near Tapachula, Mexico’s southernmost city, and the thermometer has already nudged the century mark. In spite of the sticky heat, I am wearing white overalls, thick gloves, and a head veil. No part of my body can be left unprotected, my guides inform me, mentioning a previous visitor who took thirty bee stings in the narrow opening between the top of his shoe and the cuff of his pants. I gladly suffer the discomfort because I am about to see the fabled insects known as killer bees.…
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