In a series of aggressive operations, federal agents have descended upon Los Angeles County, detaining 1,600 individuals in just a matter of weeks.
These masked agents, dressed in blue jeans or military fatigues, approach Latino men in diverse public places—on the streets, at bus stops, and outside shops—creating an atmosphere of chaos and fear.
The raids, which have led to swift apprehensions of individuals who might not even be aware of the agents’ intentions, have sent entire families into hiding, as unsure communities grapple with the threats looming over their daily lives.
Families of those taken often remain unaware of the fates of their loved ones, who find themselves shackled and transported to distant facilities, enduring days confined with limited food options—essentially just potato chips, apples, water, and the occasional cold sandwich.
Conditions within these detention centers are harsh, as detainees are often left with nothing more than mylar blankets to provide warmth while they sleep on cold floors.
Three men, detained during one such raid, shared their stories with CalMatters, highlighting the oppressive circumstances they faced throughout their apprehensions and subsequent removals.
On June 8, Mauricio Oropeza stood at a bus stop in Venice, waiting to return home after a day cleaning apartments.
Unbeknownst to him, a truck laden with federal agents was approaching.
The agents produced a photo of a Latino man with the word “BUSCA” emblazoned across it, demanding to know if anyone had seen the individual.
As some around him began to flee, Oropeza instinctively followed suit.
However, this decision would lead to his apprehension, as armed Border Patrol agents swiftly intercepted him, bringing him to the ground.
Amid the chaos, he was stripped of his belongings, including his cell phone and Mexican passport, and loaded into a vehicle alongside others who had been apprehended.
Moments later, as they drove away, agents spotted two more Latino men walking nearby, ordering another vehicle to pursue them, showcasing the relentless nature of their operations.
Omar Sanchez Lopez also found himself in the agents’ sights that same day, having just left his home with an apron slung over his shoulder on his way to work.
A vehicle pulled into his apartment complex, and a man dressed in casual attire approached him, displaying photos of several Latino men.
The agent, identifying himself as an ICE officer, began to question Lopez.
Although Lopez remained silent, the encounter escalated as a masked Border Patrol agent restrained him, ultimately leading to his arrest.
Lopez recounts feeling a sense of loss as he was taken away from everything he knew, while the agent questioned his right to be in the country.
Juan Flores Morales, having already been detained for over 24 hours, was similarly caught off guard during a lunch break with coworkers at a construction site.
Like Oropeza and Lopez, Morales felt the overwhelming fear as agents approached their work site, forcing him to flee indoors.
Morales made a desperate attempt to escape but was apprehended swiftly, handcuffed, and questioned in the presence of his bewildered colleagues.
The agents even searched through his phone, accessing personal information to scrutinize his contacts for any possible leads.
Upon being taken away, Morales could not help but wonder why authorities were targeting him and his coworkers, all of whom were merely working to support their families.
Now residing in Chiapas, Mexico, Morales conveyed his experiences to CalMatters over the phone.
What stands out in the accounts of Oropeza, Lopez, and Morales is the alarming tactics employed by federal agents during these raids, which seem to prioritize speed and volume over legality and ethical conduct.
Historically, immigration enforcement policies focused on targeted arrests of individuals known to have committed crimes.
However, recent operations led by El Centro Sector Chief Gregory Bovino appear markedly different, as raids are now characterized by indiscriminate detentions based solely on racial profiling.
A significant ruling from April by a federal judge emphasized the unconstitutionality of warrantless raids targeting individuals based on their appearance alone.
Yet, agents under Bovino’s command in Los Angeles seem to disregard such legal advisories, conducting widespread apprehensions without adhering to defined protocols.
Ahilan Arulanantham, co-director of the Center for Immigration Law and Policy at UCLA School of Law, voiced concern over the methods employed during the detentions, including pressure exerted on detainees to sign removal forms without access to legal counsel.
Arulanantham emphasized the rights individuals have to contact family and attorneys during such encounters, warning that limiting access to such rights constitutes a violation of legal protections.
Additionally, the Department of Homeland Security has yet to respond regarding the specifics on these operations and whether they align with established immigration practices.
The surge in immigration detention has led to overcrowded facilities, resulting in detainees being swiftly moved to city facilities, with many ending up in a tent camp in Texas designed for rapid processing.
The experiences of Oropeza, Lopez, and Morales in this series of raids reveal that the assumptions made about individuals with undocumented statuses have shifted dramatically, with all those apprehended now categorized as ‘criminals’ by their captors.
Indeed, data reveals that a staggering 69 percent of individuals captured during the reported raids had no prior criminal convictions.
For Oropeza, Lopez, and Morales, their previous deportations lingered over them, haunting their current reality as they navigated the legal system for a second chance.
After being taken from their locations, Oropeza described how they were led to a detention facility that felt more like a jail than anything else, filled with individuals who were distinguished only by their shared backgrounds.
Conditions within the facility were unsatisfactory; the arrested individuals were forced to sleep on the floor with minimal amenities—effectively stripped of their identities and dignity.
Eventually, they were transported to an airfield near the Mojave Desert, loaded onto a flight bound for Texas under tight surveillance.
Once in Texas, their detainment continued in an ICE-run tent camp, where sustenance was limited to inadequate rations of water, cold snacks, and insufficient shelter from the chilly environment.
For Lopez, the experience was overwhelmingly distressing, leading to his reluctance to ask for assistance or seek legal representation after being told that doing so could prolong his stay significantly.
Faced with this harsh reality, Lopez chose to sign his voluntary deportation papers just two days after the raid.
Oropeza followed suit shortly thereafter, realizing that returning to Mexico was a less favorable option compared to remaining in the abhorrent conditions in detention.
Their decision led to their eventual transfer across the border to Juárez, where they found temporary respite in a governmental shelter.
In Juárez, the three men were afforded basic necessities absent in detention: warm meals, showers, and the chance to reach out to their families, albeit under the shadow of their recent ordeals.
They also received some financial assistance as they prepared for the next chapter in their lives, with the Mexican government providing funds to help them find their way once more.
The stories of Oropeza, Lopez, and Morales reflect a troubling trend in immigration enforcement tactics in the U.S.
As federal agents escalate aggressive operations, the dangers that migrant communities face intensify, leaving many in vulnerable positions devoid of rights, support, and stability.
image source from：sanfernandosun
