Chicago landscaper Rey Estrada's harrowing ordeal with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) began on October 21 in Rogers Park, where he was working as an independent contractor. What ensued was a series of dehumanizing and humiliating experiences that left him feeling isolated, scared, and desperate for help.
The first step in his journey to detention was the verbal assault by ICE agents, who repeatedly called out terms like "illegal," "fat," and "black." Estrada claimed he had never received so much as a parking ticket. The agent's words were laced with malice, setting the tone for what would be an ordeal of neglect and disrespect.
After three hours in the back of an SUV, Estrada was whisked away to ICE's detention facility in Broadview, where he was crammed into a room meant for 80 people but housed over 150 men. The conditions were basic: no bed, mattress, or blankets, with only his jacket serving as a makeshift pillow. Sleep became impossible due to the constant noise and interruptions.
The food was also subpar – spoiled Subway sandwiches that Estrada wisely chose not to eat. Even the guards seemed to be a source of stress, with the Spanish-speaking staff being harsher than their English-speaking counterparts.
Estrada's only lifeline during this time was his wife, Liz Soto, who called him daily and assured him she would fight for his release. Their love story became a beacon of hope amidst chaos. Estrada's boss, Kristen Hulne, also played a crucial role in securing him a lawyer, investing upwards of $15,000 to ensure his freedom.
A change in circumstances came when Estrada was moved to the North Lake Processing Center in Michigan. Conditions there were vastly improved – clean food and comfortable living quarters – but the atmosphere remained somber.
It was here that Estrada found solace in prayer and telenovelas, which served as a distraction from his plight. However, even these comforting activities couldn't mask the pain of being separated from his family and facing deportation. The final straw came when Estrada punched through his bolted-down bed in frustration before being gently coaxed into therapy.
In this session, he found an unlikely source of comfort – a therapist who emphasized that "he's not a bad person" and reassured him about the possibility of being reunited with his loved ones.
Despite everything Estrada went through, his love for America remained unwavering. He believed in its opportunities and was willing to fight for them. As he finally walked out of detention on $1,500 bond, his family rejoiced knowing their beloved husband and father would soon be back home.
The experience, while traumatic, did not change Estrada's views on the United States. Instead, it only strengthened his resolve to build a new life here, with all its challenges and rewards.
The first step in his journey to detention was the verbal assault by ICE agents, who repeatedly called out terms like "illegal," "fat," and "black." Estrada claimed he had never received so much as a parking ticket. The agent's words were laced with malice, setting the tone for what would be an ordeal of neglect and disrespect.
After three hours in the back of an SUV, Estrada was whisked away to ICE's detention facility in Broadview, where he was crammed into a room meant for 80 people but housed over 150 men. The conditions were basic: no bed, mattress, or blankets, with only his jacket serving as a makeshift pillow. Sleep became impossible due to the constant noise and interruptions.
The food was also subpar – spoiled Subway sandwiches that Estrada wisely chose not to eat. Even the guards seemed to be a source of stress, with the Spanish-speaking staff being harsher than their English-speaking counterparts.
Estrada's only lifeline during this time was his wife, Liz Soto, who called him daily and assured him she would fight for his release. Their love story became a beacon of hope amidst chaos. Estrada's boss, Kristen Hulne, also played a crucial role in securing him a lawyer, investing upwards of $15,000 to ensure his freedom.
A change in circumstances came when Estrada was moved to the North Lake Processing Center in Michigan. Conditions there were vastly improved – clean food and comfortable living quarters – but the atmosphere remained somber.
It was here that Estrada found solace in prayer and telenovelas, which served as a distraction from his plight. However, even these comforting activities couldn't mask the pain of being separated from his family and facing deportation. The final straw came when Estrada punched through his bolted-down bed in frustration before being gently coaxed into therapy.
In this session, he found an unlikely source of comfort – a therapist who emphasized that "he's not a bad person" and reassured him about the possibility of being reunited with his loved ones.
Despite everything Estrada went through, his love for America remained unwavering. He believed in its opportunities and was willing to fight for them. As he finally walked out of detention on $1,500 bond, his family rejoiced knowing their beloved husband and father would soon be back home.
The experience, while traumatic, did not change Estrada's views on the United States. Instead, it only strengthened his resolve to build a new life here, with all its challenges and rewards.