CHICAGO (AP) – The massive presence of the Border Patrol on a recent Saturday morning in Chicago’s Little Village neighborhood did not faze Ofelia Herrera even though she and her husband are in the United States illegally.
She waited for the agents to move a few blocks away, then opened their stand serving Mexican-style corn on the cob and “aguas frescas” flavored with cucumber, pineapple and strawberries in the heart of the Mexican immigrant community, as they have done for 18 years. Sirens blared during a chaotic day as Chicago police responded to a Border Patrol call for help and confronted protesters.
Herrera, 47, and Rafael Hernandez, 44, have refused to change their routines during an immigration enforcement blitz in Chicago that has kept many without legal status at home since it began in early September. Even some American citizens of Latino heritage are afraid to go outside.
The couple says the job not only pays the bills but helps stave off depression, making them stand out from others gripped by fear in Chicago’s immigrant communities.
“The only thing you can do is have faith in God and don’t be afraid,” Herrera said in an interview at the couple’s South Side home, already decorated with Christmas decorations just a few days after Halloween. “Fear gives rise to depression and other things. In the end, it doesn’t deport you to Mexico but you are sick with depression and other things because you didn’t have faith in God.”
Hernandez agreed. “We know people who have fallen into depression. They don’t leave the house. It’s very sad.”
From a trek in the Arizona desert to a Chicago home
The couple’s Little Village food stand, decorated with American flags, is in a bustling area frequented by the Border Patrol. The two-lane commercial stretch is lined with family restaurants serving birria and chilaquiles, and clothing stores with displays of Mexican sports team jerseys and white dresses for quinceañera parties — a coming-of-age celebration for 15-year-old girls in Latino families.
Vendors sell cut fruit and pottery from parked vehicles. Strains of ranchera music from cars and shops add to the festive atmosphere, drawing Mexican immigrant visitors from around Chicago and beyond. A family from Waterloo, Iowa, nibbled corn covered in mayonnaise, cotija cheese, lime and chili powder at the couple’s stand under a cold drizzle.
Most of the couple’s friends did not go out for more than two months. That fear sparked a grassroots effort to buy out street vendors, allowing them to go home early and avoid public exposure.
Sidewalk traffic on 26th Street is livelier than many commercial areas in Chicago, even with the immigration crackdown. It is lined with barber shops, groceries and other businesses that have signs in Spanish and English asking immigration authorities to stay away unless they have a court order.
The couple know people who have been arrested by heavily armed agents who ask about their legal status – an egg seller here, a tamal seller there. They described the sting of tear gas fired by agents at protesters in a shopping center parking lot last month.
Many immigrants, even some with legal status, don’t really talk to journalists, especially if they are identified by name, fearing that it could lead to deportation. Herrera and Hernandez said they are eager to share their story to foster understanding of how the Trump administration’s push for mass deportations is unfolding.
Herrera crossed the border in 2004, followed later by her two children who are now adults living in Chicago. Hernandez made the trip in 2005. The two paid smugglers thousands of dollars for day treks through the Arizona desert. Acquaintances persuaded them to go to Chicago, the second highest destination in the United States for Mexican immigrants after Los Angeles.
The couple met while working at a Mexican restaurant in Little Village. They have two children born in the United States; their 10-year-old son doesn’t speak much Spanish and is largely oblivious to the immigration crackdown.
Their 16-year-old daughter fears long-term detention for her parents even more than the possibility of them being deported to Mexico.
The couple took a class at City Hall for a municipal certificate to become street food vendors and bought a house for $39,000 in 2017 that was in dire need of repairs.
From 3 pm to 9 pm during the week they serve tacos and burritos from a yellow truck in the dirt path of their house in Englewood, a predominantly Black neighborhood and one of the poorest in Chicago. Once home to a thriving shopping district, parts of the neighborhood have fallen into disrepair with abandoned homes. Crime is persistent.
At the weekend they go to Little Village, where they work 11 hour days.
Sales plummeted after immigration raids spooked customers
They thought about trying to get legal status but they don’t have a strong case and could never afford a lawyer. They got their Illinois driver’s licenses. They say they paid taxes, stayed out of trouble and generally lived without fear of deportation.
“Chicago is beautiful,” Hernandez said. “Crime is hard but Chicago is fantastic. There are a lot of opportunities for those of us who are immigrants. It’s painful what’s happening.”
The pair’s sales are down about 75% since the Trump administration began “Operation Midway Blitz” in Chicago on Sept. 8, Herrera said. Like almost everyone in the know, their phones constantly alert them to warnings about where immigration officials are making arrests and to stay away.
Authorities appear to be arresting “everybody,” Hernandez said, even though the administration has vowed to go after “the worst of the worst.” More than 70% of people in the custody of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement in the 12-month period through September were not convicted of a crime in the US
The American authorities said that they are making criminals a priority but that anyone who is in the country illegally is subject to arrest. That includes street vendors, according to Gregory Bovino, the Border Patrol officer who has led enforcement blitzes in Los Angeles, Chicago and, now, Charlotte, North Carolina.
“Those people undercut American businesses, don’t they?” Bovino, a frequent presence in Chicago’s Little Village, said in a recent interview. “Absolutely not. That’s why we have immigration laws in the first place.”
The couple’s memories of how the COVID-19 pandemic kept them indoors are a reminder to stay active, allowing for only minor adjustments. They recently went to Little Village to buy supplies for their business when word came on social networks that Bovino was in the area making arrests. They decided to shop in another neighborhood.
They have only been back to Mexico once in more than 20 years, a family visit in 2012 that included illegally crossing the border at Eagle Pass, Texas. They want to stay in Chicago but say they are ready to return to Mexico if they are arrested. They were bringing with them the children of their American citizens.
“People are afraid because they have lives here, they have children here, including her,” said Herrera. “We don’t want to go to Mexico but, if we have to, we will. What else is there to do?”