The Mojave does not keep secrets forever. It just waits for a backhoe.
Edward Perez was 46. Ricky Allen Phillips was 61. Both lived in the Lancaster area. Both vanished in September. Both were pulled out of the dirt this week from shallow graves beneath the ribs of an abandoned greenhouse on a sprawling, junk-strewn lot near 50th Street East and Avenue F, northeast of town.
The New York Post reported the identifications on Oct. 2. The Los Angeles County medical examiner still lists the cause and manner of death for both men as deferred. That is a bureaucratic way of saying the county is not ready to tell the public how two neighbors ended up in the ground.
Phillips went first. The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department had already put out an at-risk missing-person bulletin on him. He was last seen Aug. 30 in the 44900 block of 10th Street West. Five feet seven, about 230 pounds, black hair, green eyes. His family was worried enough to ask the public for help. He was reported missing on Sept. 10. Perez was reported missing nine days later, on Sept. 19. Authorities have not said the two men knew each other. They have not said they did not.
Homicide detectives showed up Tuesday, Sept. 29, while following a missing-person lead, and the digging started. Cadaver dogs. Deputies with shovels. A backhoe biting into the desert beside a ramshackle home, trailers, RVs, and scattered debris. Aerial footage showed a canopy over the evidence and a hole opening under what was left of the greenhouse. They were still in the ground on Wednesday, working closer to the structures. The earlier Post account of the search quoted the sheriff’s office directly.
Based on the circumstances surrounding the discovery, the case is now being investigated as a homicide.
Read that again. They are not calling it a homicide because someone confessed. They are calling it a homicide because of how the bodies were found. Men who die of natural causes do not usually get planted under a greenhouse in the Antelope Valley.
A second property, in the 43000 block of Blooming Park Street, was searched the same Tuesday. Plastic storage bins sat in the driveway. A man there was handcuffed, placed in a patrol car, and then released. No arrests. Sheriff’s Deputy Justin Pyon said Thursday night that detectives had finished on the large plot near 50th and Avenue F, and that no further information would be released while the case stayed open. The medical examiner has not said how long either man had been buried.
Scripture does not treat a hidden body as a closed file. “What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto me from the ground.” That was the question put to the first murderer, and it still hangs over a desert lot full of RVs and broken glass. Blood in the dirt is not a local-news footnote. It is a claim on the living.
Two families spent weeks not knowing. One man had already been missing a month by the time the dogs arrived. The other had been gone less than two weeks. Now the names are public and the answers are not. No suspect. No weapon. No public account of who owns the lot, who led detectives there, or why two men from the same town were buried in the same patch of desert. The sheriff’s office is asking anyone with information to call the Homicide Bureau at 323-890-5500.
California has a habit of treating this kind of ending as weather. A remote property. A deferred autopsy. A press note and a phone number. Perez and Phillips were not weather. They were men with families who noticed when they did not come home. Somebody put them in those graves. Until that somebody is named, the ground out by Avenue F is still talking.
Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.