One Mother’s Hellish Journey to Find Her 8-Year-Old Son
In dreaming of a new life in America, Elsa Johana Ortiz Enriquez had imagined the harrowing journey many times: seven days on the road from Guatemala to Mexico with her 8-year-old son, Anthony; turning themselves in to a Border Patrol agent; being held in detention for weeks at the perrera, or dog kennel, as migrants refer to U.S. immigration detention facilities. “I thought I might even have to wait weeks or months to be released, but then I’d eventually make it to Virginia,” she says.
But just 24 hours after they arrived in McAllen, Texas, on a warm Saturday morning in May, the reality was far different: Immigration authorities entered their cell and grabbed her son. “It all happened so quickly,” Ortiz says. “I went to get his shoes, and he was gone.” As the door closed behind Anthony, Ortiz struggled with the guards holding her back. “They told me to stay calm,” she says. A Border Patrol officer soon explained that she was facing criminal charges for attempting to cross the border illegally. “He told me there was a new law and so they needed to take him from me while I went to court,” Ortiz says, “but that I’d get him right after.”
Border Patrol turned her over to immigration authorities. Ten days later, with no word from Anthony, a guard called Ortiz’s name, handcuffed her and shackled her legs. “Where are you taking me? Am I being deported?” she asked. “You’re going on the bus to go home,” the guard said. Meaning Guatemala. She assumed her son would join her.
The bus, filled with women set for deportation, drove all night to the airport in Laredo without stopping. Ortiz couldn’t sleep. With every mile marker the bus passed, she believed she was getting closer to him.
At dawn, the bus pulled up to the airport. She scanned the line outside to board the plane: only men and women. No children. No Anthony. Ortiz felt nauseous. She cried for help. An officer handed out deportation orders and asked the women on the bus to sign. “I am not signing anything until you tell me where my son is,” Ortiz said. “I can’t leave without him.” One by one, the rest of the women filed off the bus and made their way onto the plane. Ortiz remained seated, sobbing. “I’ll sign,” she said, “but only when you bring him.”
She refused to sign the paperwork but got off the bus, her legs still cuffed. A female official asked what was wrong. Ortiz confided in her; she says the woman started crying. “That just can’t be, my dear,” the official said. “You can’t leave without your son.” Ortiz says the woman tried to find a supervisor, but the deportation
