Ernesto “Xe” Acosta’s drum stood amidst a sea of strewn flowers, dictating a powerful rhythm to which a group of Aztec dancers began to chant. Slowly, people trickled into a circular formation on a hilltop in the northernmost corner of Alamo Square Park, where the aroma of burning copal filled the air as the sun shed its last warming rays on a day that changed the hearts of many.