For the last 14 years, Reyes, a native of Mexico, checked in with immigration to renew his work permit. He had a home t-shirt business, a social security card, a driver’s license, and paid taxes.
That wasn’t enough.
Authorities, on Feb. 27, arrested Reyes, who is now in the Butler County Jail, being held for ICE. He’s facing almost certain deportation because it’s the second time he has crossed the border illegally. He was first deported in 2007, his wife said, after a series of traffic issues that included driving without a license, according to Clark County Municipal Court records. He re-entered the country that year because he had just received custody of his two small children. (He had another traffic violation in 2022, court records show.)
His wife, Lacy Arriaga, wonders why the government would let her husband pay taxes, get married, and buy a house.
“It almost makes you mad at yourself that he did it right,” Arriaga said in her first extended remarks with a journalist. “He was trying to do the right thing. I just wish they had taken into consideration that he was willing to show up despite knowing what was going on. Why is (he) the person that gets taken, the one that wants to do it right?”
For the last 14 years, Reyes renewed his work visa during his annual check-in with immigration. Lawyers told the family he had no path to citizenship since he had already been deported, but thought that the government might let a productive member of society contribute to his community.
Reyes considered not attending his check-in, but didn’t want to break the rules. At the height of the immigration crackdown, the government said, you have to leave. Reyes has six children, including his wife’s daughter, who range in age from 8 to 20.
“They’re not really eating very much (or) not wanting to go do anything,” Lacy Arriaga said. “His oldest daughter can’t get out of bed. His son lay in bed all day yesterday. His daughter, his youngest, the 8-year-old, cried all morning and then cried when she came home from school. She’s really sad and she keeps saying, ‘Why did they take my daddy?’ “
Lacy Arriaga knows the man she loves is gone and she can’t do anything about it. She said she’s in mourning and can’t think about whether she might try to go to Mexico, keep the business running, or complete her graphics design degree (she already has a Bachelor’s).
Born in Michoacán, Mexico, Arriaga Reyes came to the U.S. when he was 19 and settled in Springfield, where some of his family lived. He was a chef for many years at a Springfield restaurant, Los Mariachis. He recently pivoted his career about two years ago to help his wife, whom he married in 2018, run a small, custom-design apparel business, Redeemed Designs.
They both volunteer at their church, High Street Church of the Nazarene, where they serve as liaisons for Careportal, an organization that helps pay for food, housing and other necessities for families in crisis.
On Saturday, Lacy Arriaga told a crowd at a rally that an ICE agent had told her husband’s lawyer that there wasn’t a reason to keep him in the U.S. anymore due to his children being older, despite having a child who is still in the second grade.
For some, this story will begin and end with the government exercising its right to deport an illegal immigrant. But the Reyes case highlights the flaws in a politically driven system that, depending on the party in power, has different rules and different levels of enforcement. For example, why would a court hand Reyes custody of his children when he was supposed to be deported? Why could he live as an almost-citizen, working and paying taxes, when he had no chance of being one?
As counterintuitive as this might sound, the humane thing would have been to deport him immediately after he returned a second time, not give him false hope, and not let him build a family that is now forever shattered by his loss.
No one can understand the agony of separation unless you hear a trembling voice that depicts the human toll. Words don’t do this justice, but read what Reyes’ wife told me:
“Him not being here is the biggest thing for me right now. I’m mourning the life that I’m no longer going to have. He’s not coming back. I go to the same bed, and it’s an area that he’ll never be able to go to.”
While some will applaud another immigrant gone, Lacy Arriaga and her children will share tear-stained pillows for a husband and father who is more than another notch in DHS’ deportation count.
Ray Marcano’s column appears on these pages each Sunday.
