Home Depots become prime locations for immigration enforcement

LOS Angeles – The view of federal agents masked in tactical equipment descending on house deposits in southern California obliges undocumented workers to weigh the necessary income for the risk of being arrested or expelled.

At least two Home Depot car parks in the Los Angeles region were targeted on Friday in the midst of the Trump administration’s immigration. Day workers were detained in North Hollywood and Alhambra while the organizers were crying by asking to see mandates and tried to obtain as much information as possible of handcuffed workers.

The scene has become familiar with summer workers this summer, who are desperate to maintain a stable income in a local economy which is still recovering from the forest fires in January and the increase in the cost of building materials caused by prices.

They are waiting in parking lots every morning, in the hope of earning a day’s salary or, if they are lucky, are hired for a long -term project that could mean weeks or months of regular salary.

But the constant threat of arrest is wreaking havoc on many workers, who say they are traumatized and cannot sleep after looking at friends and family members arrested and taken to prison.

“What can you do? In this country, you cannot stay at home. You need money for children, invoices, rent, food,” said Arturo, a worker of the day who lives in Los Angeles and spoke in Spanish.

Arturo and other workers interviewed by NBC News spoke under the guise of anonymity because they feared being targeted by immigration and customs or other federal officers.

The Home Depot operations on Friday took place about a week after Roberto Carlos Montoya Valdez, a worker day in Guatemala, died after fled his agents in a Home Depot parking in Monrovia. He ran on a nearby highway and was hit by a car.

Immigration defenders and community members said that Montoya, who was in the United States without legal authorization, was not a criminal but a hardworking father.

“He came here to work hard. My uncle was not a criminal,” said his niece, Mariela Mendez, to the mourning people during a vigil last week for Montoya. “He wanted what many of us wanted: a better life.”

The Ministry of Internal Security said that Montoya was not prosecuted by federal agents when he died.

Home Depot refused to comment on his death or say how many arrests have occurred on his properties.

“We are not informed that ice activities will occur, and in many cases, we do not know that arrests have taken place before the end,” said the company based in Atlanta in a statement sent by e-mail. “We must follow all the federal and local rules and regulations on each market where we operate.”

Sitting in his truck parked near the place where Montoya started running, Jose was sobbing quietly as he looked at the little tree where his friend closed his bike every morning.

Jose said he had known Montoya for about five years and described him as a friendly and talkative with the other workers who gathered each morning in the parking lot.

On the day of the death of Montoya, Jose said that he had arrived a few hours later than usual and that he was confused by all the bustle. The helicopters rugged over the head and traffic stopped.

“It is as if it had happened to all of us,” he said in Spanish through tears. “We all know each other. We are all the same. “

Jose said that the return to the scene of Montoya’s death was heartbreaking, but that his choices were limited. He needs to work and the idea of ​​not making money every day keeps him at night.

“He was not a criminal. He was not a villain,” said Jose, adding that he did not understand why Montoya ran on the highway. “I hope he has tried his luck with an immigration judge.”

A few steps away, Felipe was held in the shade of a tree, waiting for someone to hire him. He has lived in the United States since 2015 and has worked in restaurants until the cocovated pandemic is paralyzed from the industry, he said. He returned to this house depot almost every day For five years, but the opportunities have dried, he said. It was first forest fires, then it is the prices and now it is the fear of the application of immigration.

Felipe remembers an era when he could choose the jobs to do on the days. Now he’s lucky to be hired even for a few hours.

“Thank goodness, I was not there when they had Carlos,” he said. “I would be in Mexico without clothes.”

Asked about the last time he saw Montoya, Felipe pointed out the small tree nearby.

“He was sitting there talking with someone,” said Felipe. “He seemed happy.”

Nancy Meza, an organizer of the National Day Labouers Organizing Network, works with dozens of volunteers stationed in home deposits in southern California. They patrol parking lots and street corners, monitoring the incoming signs of the application of immigration. When spotted, volunteers are in a group cat and shout warning to workers nearby.

Meza said that she hears a mixture of stress and determination of the day workers. Many promise to continue working for a feeling of normality and maintaining a stable income, despite the personal cost.

“There is a feeling of” if we stay at home and we sit in fear, it aggravates things, we feel really anxious, helpless, “she said.” They prefer to try their luck. “

Standing outside another house depot by a hot puffy day, Arturo said he lived in the United States for 25 years and regrets not learning English or trying to become a citizen. When he arrived, he said he was too embarrassed to attend night courses covered with sweat and painting after a day of work.

The citizenship process is also profitable and prohibitive in time, he said, noting that many of his friends who have managed to obtain lawyers and browse the process declared that it had cost them $ 15,000 and almost a decade of waiting. Arturo thought that his time would be better spent to earn money so that he could leave earlier.

Like many undocumented people, Arturo intended to return home to Mexico in a few years after his arrival. But he fell in love and had two children. They are now adolescents and he cannot leave them behind, he said. If he took them to Mexico, he worried, they would feel too much in their place in a country they have never visited.

Instead, he encourages them to study hard and attend the university. To help get there, he works six days a week, leaving Sunday open to his children and church.

He said that the advantage of what he does prevails over the risk.

“All you can do is work to survive,” he said. “Immigration or not, people go out because they have to eat.”