Op-Ed: ICE's assault on due process
A few weeks ago, I visited the Strafford County Jail for the first time. I wasn’t there for someone I knew, but to accompany the wife and son of Juan Francisco Mendez, a Guatemalan asylum-seeker who had been wrongfully detained by ICE.
On April 14th in New Bedford, Massachusetts, Juan and his wife Marilu were pulled over by ICE agents claiming to have a warrant. They shouted the name 'Antonio.' Juan, who has no criminal record, was confused.
It turned out someone named Antonio had a criminal record and lived in the same apartment building, so Juan immediately called their immigration attorney to clear up the misunderstanding.
But before the attorney could arrive, ICE agents smashed his car windows with a sledgehammer and dragged him out. Marilu filmed the incident which immediately went viral. Juan was taken into custody and was transferred to the Strafford County Jail in Dover, the town I represent.
I’d seen the video, but learning he was being held in Dover raised serious concerns. Local officials were told the county’s ICE contract only allowed detention of individuals with criminal records. Juan had none. I contacted his wife and lawyer to understand what had happened and see how I could help.
What I uncovered was a system with little transparency or accountability. Jail officials didn’t even know what charges, if any, ICE detainees had. There was no mechanism to verify compliance or distinguish between dangerous individuals and those with no charges at all.
While Juan awaited his hearing, I arranged for his wife and son to visit him. It would be their first time seeing him since the arrest. Their 9 year-old son stopped going to school out of fear. Marilu, though she had asylum protection, was terrified ICE might detain her too.
I drove down to New Bedford and met her and her son on a rainy Saturday morning. She didn’t speak English, but her son spoke a bit, so we communicated using an app. We stopped for breakfast at McDonald’s on the way and her son was ecstatic to get the Happy Meal toy he’d wanted.
When we arrived at the jail, the guard handed me an English-Spanish phrasebook, my only way to speak with Juan inside. I sat quietly in the back as Juan walked up to the window. His wife and son lit up the moment they saw him. It was a heartbreaking kind of joy. They couldn’t touch him, but they held their hands to the glass. Marilu drew hearts. She spoke so softly I could barely hear her. Their son held up his toy to show his dad.
For an hour, I flipped through that phrasebook, searching for something to say. Anything that would make sense of the hell that our government has put his family through. I came up with nothing.
It took another two weeks before Juan saw a judge. The judge ordered his release after ruling that ICE had failed to prosecute any charges, but ICE argued they filed his case under the wrong number and kept him detained. It took yet another hearing and another week before he was finally released on bail.
In the meantime, I kept searching for answers. I tried to obtain the jail’s ICE contract but was told the details weren’t public, not even to elected officials. I reached out to members of Congress only to learn ICE had fired its congressional liaisons, the very people responsible for maintaining accountability.
Juan’s story is not unique. He is one of the lucky ones. He got to see a judge. He got to come home, but his life will never be the same again. There are thousands of others being deported without due process.
Here in New Hampshire, SB 62 is advancing to Governor Ayotte, which would allow local police to enter agreements to work with and essentially act as ICE. This law would prohibit any oversight of police actions taken under these contracts. All while videos keep emerging of innocent people being violently detained or deported without trial.
That is not just inconceivably wrong. It’s an assault on the foundations of our legal system. If Juan doesn’t have due process, then we don’t either.
