On Tuesday, June 17, Nancy Orizar was working in the high school collection department of the Jesuit children in the WhatsApp neighborhood of Los Angeles when her phone rang. “It was just an ordinary day for me,” she said. “She was twelve years old, and I just returned from lunch.” On the other end of the line, her father was the owner of her father. The owner told her that some of her father’s friends had come, and they were asking her phone number. Since June 6, when the immigrant raids were not documented in Los Angeles, the beginning of the escalation of operations through migration and customs enforcement, was the time of fear and anxiety. Orizar told me: “She didn’t want to open the door because she was afraid.” But friends turned out to be her father’s colleagues, Francisco Orizar, who worked in providing brand products, including tortilla, to local grocery stores. Orizar said: “It was, like, I have your father’s friends saying they saw – I think, on the news or on social media – that there was a video, and it was my father who took.” “I, like, in shock. I, like, stop playing this joke on me. This is not funny.”
The video was recorded by a passer -by in a store less than a grocery store in Pico Rivera, in East Los Angeles Province at the age of nine in that morning. It shows a truck of yellow boxes parked with a homemade coating function, next to which a group of immigration agents wearing camouflaged clothes, helmets, and jackets stand, and carry what appears to be rifles. They wear the neck carees that were withdrawn to hide their faces, sunglasses and gloves, and they are loaded with tactical equipment, as if it were in the fighting area and not the car park in the suburbs. Francisco Orizar was boycotted in the middle of birth, and is waiting by two agents, next to Dolly stacked with food boxes. As the person who records the scene approaches, some passers -by shouting the advice: “¡No Diga Nada!(“Don’t say anything!”);¡Hasta Que Tient Un Lawyer Presente no Diga Nada!(“Until you have a lawyer who does not say anything!”) Francisco wears a blue bispol hat and contains a mustache. While the agents lead him to the back seat of the white customs protection car, he calls back anxiously on his truck and tortille. ” Fucked, man, man, No MegraThe person who records, as he is walking near it, says. Other passers -by have more harsh words for agents. “I hope you are happy, comrades! Go home, have sex with your wives,” a woman screams at them. “You too, ridiculous internal pants. Do you think you are happy with the little dress that you got?” Then the video ends.
I first saw a post on Instagram about the detention of Francisco Orizar at the expense of a group of immigrants and defenders called SIEMPRE UNIDOS LA, less than two hours after it happened. Since June 6, videos of convincing federal agents have appeared who are holding migrants throughout Los Angeles province on social media every day. According to the state law, the Los Angeles Police Department and other local law enforcement agencies are limited to assisting federal immigration enforcement and many municipal governments, after they declared themselves in the cities of the haven, that they are in the dark about the time and location of specified federal immigration procedures. (In response to a request for comment, the Ministry of Internal Security said it had alerted LAPD two days before the start Ice However, a LAPD spokesman said that the administration does not receive prior or actual time information about specific raids.) As such, videos, which are often captured by passers -by, and then assembled by groups of activists or local news accounts, have become a basic record of what is going on; The federal government does not provide detailed information about the whereabouts of people. One of the organizations, the Alliance for Human Rights, estimates that between five and a hundred people in the Los Angeles region has been detained since June 6. This appreciation is “not scientifically”, Jorge Mario Kapreira, the organization’s communications director, adding me, “We depend on the number of people reported by the public, the media and the people who call our hot line.” the Ice The agents knock on the doors, but they were also holding people at bus stations in Los Angeles, gas stations, car wash, food trucks, Walmarts, and home warehouses.
After Urizar asked the owner to share her phone number, her father’s colleagues called her and asked whether she had a set of keys for his truck, which was still sitting in the download area in the grocery store. Do not. Not sure what to do, she left the work and called her younger sister Francis, leading fourteen miles to Food 4 less. When Urizar arrived, Francis was already there, crying. URIZAR, who is thirty -year -old, is responsible for keeping it together.
Orizar told me the next morning on Wafel in Bangk Corner, a dinner in South Jet, the city in South Los Angeles province, where she lives. She said she was awake since five in the morning, and she seemed tired but calm. She told me that she turned to her Christian faith to keep her through the crisis. She said: “I adhere to the word of God.” “Whatever the will of God, it will be good, and his will will be, and this gives me peace, and this gives me hope, frankly, this is the thing that calms me.” We waited for a server to wear a uniform, then Orizar talked about her father.
Francisco Orizar, sixty -year -old, told me to the United States from Guatemala for more than thirty years, and she escaped from the civil war and is looking to earn money to support four children left in his country of origin. After his arrival, Nancy’s mother, from Honduras, gave birth to two other children, Nancy first, then Francis after two years.
“He had a problem with drinking when I was younger,” said Orizar. “So he had a report on domestic violence, and we were separated.” (The case was later rejected) Because of the arrangement of her parents’ custody, from the age of eight until she was eighteen years old, she saw her father only once a week. But after the end of her parents’ marriage, she said, the heart of his life. “He just focused on work,” she said. “Working to clean his record, and work to keep his family in Guatemala and preserve us – he has been working throughout his life. Now he lives alone, has no wife, and he has no other children, and he may be my sister here.” She had no idea whether her father was targeted because her mother had once asked for a restriction or if he had been racked, as it seems that some immigration agents in recent days seem to be. (In a written statement, the Ministry of Internal Security told me, “The implementation of the Ministry of National Security is very targeted, and the officers do due care.”
She said, “He made mistakes, but they are old mistakes, like twenty years old mistakes.” While she said he might have not been a good husband, she considered him a loyal father. “I always loved my father,” she told me. “It is, like my great father, he is the best father, and I don’t just say that because he is my father, but he is like a good father. Like, all I have is because of my father.”
In Los Angeles in recent weeks, a common phrase has been revived on the signs of protest and social media functions: “Solo El Boeplo Salvo Poiplo,“Or,” only people can save people. “In Los Angeles, although law enforcement agencies in the city and provinces are restricted with help IceThey are not actively obstructed by federal agents. Local groups and non -profit organizations have taken important not only documenting raids but also teaching people how to protect themselves. The most prominent of these is the self -defense alliance for society, a network that includes more than sixty groups of preachers, including the construction of black men, the Harriet Tobman Center for Social Justice, and the local semester of the Jewish voice for peace. It was formed in February, in the early days of the second Trump administration, after the documents leaked to Los Angeles Times Plans referred to to take “widespread” action to enforce migration in the city.
At six o’clock last Saturday, Ron Guccis, a teacher at a high school, got the front passenger seat for the four -wheel drive vehicles that were parked outside the South Central neighborhood of Los Angeles. Gochez is a regulator of Unión Del Barrio, a non -partisan political group that is part of the self -defense alliance for society and defends the rights of Mexican Americans and other Latin American origin. (The driver, who is a volunteer in a medical mask, did not recognize it). “This is what our society feels,” said Guccis. The two were part of the Unión Del Barrio Community Community patrol, which aims to monitor the neighborhood about the presence and warn of federal customers. During the past two weeks, the patrol was sending cars every morning.
A few minutes ago, dozens of volunteers, most of whom are women, gathered in a cars circle; Most of them wore black pants and green covers printed with a Mexico definition of the eagle of warrior, and the UNIón Del Barrio logo. The group distributed Walkie control devices, put a magnet on their cars that bore UNIón, and read “Protecting societies from ice terrorism and police“In English and Spanish. There were also publications to inform the residents of the calls if they saw the vehicles distinct for those who were traditionally sent by IceU.S. models such as Ford Explorers or Chevy Tahoes with very colored windows, police gates separating the front seats from the back, sometimes, cost signs or licensing panels.
