\u201cI got lucky,\u201d Jos\u00e9 told me. \u201cBecause they got the wrong person.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jos\u00e9, 28, who did not give his last name for fear of retribution from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, ICE, said he was leaving his house in rural southwestern Colorado recently \u201cwhen two federal SUVs pulled out, blocking my path in both directions.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jos\u00e9 is not a criminal, though 10 years ago he crossed the border into the United States from Mexico without legal documentation. Since then, he\u2019s worked as a painter and a chef, has always paid federal and state taxes, and has never been in trouble with the law.<\/p>\n
That morning, though, he was a target: \u201cIt was the migra, and they pulled me out of the driver\u2019s seat, forced me into one of their cars and asked me for identification.\u201d<\/p>\n
Because the ICE agents were looking for someone else that day, and because rural Colorado has limited jail space to hold detained migrants, they let Jos\u00e9 go. But they told him he had to show up for an interview at an ICE substation.<\/p>\n
Jos\u00e9 didn\u2019t go to his interview. \u201cI don\u2019t want them to find me,\u201d he told me. \u201cI\u2019m always looking over my shoulder. My life is here, but I\u2019ve moved and have to start over again.\u201d<\/p>\n