Hello, my name is Itzel, and I am the 18-year-old stepdaughter of Bernabe now in ICE custody.

Saturday, the 10th of January, I got a text from my mom that made my heart drop. “Nos paró la policía” (we got pulled over). I ran out of work and drove with shaky hands and a pounding heart, tears rolling down my face because my worst nightmare had just come true. When I arrived, there were three cop cars around my family’s vehicle and three officers speaking to my mom. While I walked over to the scene, an officer said, “Can I help you, ma’am?” I asked what happened and told them they were my parents. They said it was a traffic stop and they already had my dad in a cop car. They told me his name wasn’t in the system and they were implying that the ID (Matrícula) and name and date of birth were fake. I asked if I could speak to him, and one officer said yes, and then the other two said wait a second. They spoke, and I walked over to my mom (in the vehicle with my 6-year-old brother). I explained what they told me, and she requested I go and get the passport and birth certificate. When I asked the cops if that was okay, they said, “If you want, I don’t think it’ll help.” I asked if my mom could go get the paperwork, and they said she wasn’t free to go. I spoke to the officer and asked if I could see my dad, and he said no; while the other two drove away to the Robertsdale station to get my dad’s fingerprints and “real” information. I didn't know that that morning before I left for work was the last time I would see him face to face. I asked what was going to happen, and he said that if he was in the country illegally, he wouldn’t be let go, and since he was not speaking to the officers, they were taking him in. I began to shake, and the panic was setting in. When I asked if my mom was free to go, he said yes, and I drove the family vehicle to my home 4 minutes away from the traffic stop. My little brother was traumatized; he was screaming and crying, “Why did they arrest my dad… noooooo… I don’t want them to take my dad… my daaaaaadd!!” No amount of reassurance was enough for any of us. I was crying and panicking; my mother was in the same state, trying to keep calm for her kids. After dropping them off at home and getting the paperwork, I ran to my car still at the scene. I drove to the Robertsdale station, where they wouldn’t let me in and made me wait like 15+ minutes outside. When the officers finally came out, they said he was not speaking with anyone and he wouldn’t give them his fingerprints. They then told me they were taking him to the Mobile Homeland Security office 33+ minutes away from me. That’s when I knew it was over; something in me broke again. They gave us an address and a phone number (didn’t work) of this unmarked office building. When we arrived, it was closed, and no lights were on. No one came to the door when we rang the bells. We called Robertsdale, and the dispatcher said we had to go to Baldwin County Corrections Center in Bay Minette, 40 minutes away on the whole other side of the office we were at. When we arrived at the jail, they told us he wasn’t there and the ICE van would probably arrive at 4-5 pm, and it was 2:30. We waited around the area, and at 4:08, my mom texted me he was in Bay Minette jail, so we drove there and asked if he had arrived. They said yes, he was being booked in. They told us he was going to stay there 3-4 days before they send him to Louisiana. I asked if I could see him; they said no, but if I stay by the reception window, he might walk by and we can wave.

We waited about 10 minutes before I saw him, and we left. It took everything in me not to break down. Now we are fighting for him, trying to get a lawyer for his court date on the 30th in Louisiana.

Help me and my mother get him back. Help us keep the lights on and food on the table. Help us keep our home.

Right now, I am the main provider making just 1k every 2 weeks and my mom’s small business doesn’t bring in enough revenue.