ICE Meltdown in Durango

Protests aren't new to Quakers. Friends have been central to movements from women's suffrage, Vietnam, and Civil Rights to climate action. But Monday, October 27, in Durango, Colorado, felt different. The protest was spontaneous, instantaneous, and quickly crossed into direct action.

Our small mountain town, population about 20,000, has seen increased ICE activity. Construction sites and local businesses have been raided since President Trump took office. Our immigrant aid group, Compañeros, and the Rapid Response Network had been on high alert. Many people arrested had no criminal history and had active asylum cases. The thing that sent our community over the edge this time was the arrest of a Colombian immigrant father and his two children, aged 12 and 15, on their way to school. The mother, who was not arrested, had asked for custody, but the father and children were all being held at the local ICE office.

I live 15 miles north of Durango and didn't see the social media calls until late afternoon. I jumped in my car, wondering if it'd be over by the time I arrived.

The small side street where the ICE office is located was wall-to-wall cars. I squeezed into a space and was instantly pulled into a mass of about 200 people bundled against the chill. The crowd was orderly, gathered outside the high chain-link fence. Volunteers were passing out blankets and safety gear. The word was that the dad and kids were inside, and the best way to protect them from deportation was to make sure they stayed inside. People had wrapped chains and titanium bike locks around both vehicle gates.

Hours went by. Chants of “Free the kids!” occasionally bubbled up, but mostly the crowd was silent, subdued. Around 10 p.m., I saw people spreading out sleeping bags. I decided to leave the overnight vigil to the younger crowd, though I noted several gray heads peeking out of blankets. I honestly thought it would be over by the next morning. I underestimated both ICE and my town.

Early Tuesday, Compañeros posted online: “IF YOU ARE READING THIS, WE NEED ALLIES AT BODO (industrial park) ASAP!”

I went down later that morning. I learned ICE agents had come out, inspected the gates, thrown a woman’s phone across the street, and wrestled her to the ground. By the time I arrived, it was calm again. Businesses were bringing in stacks of donuts, breakfast burritos, and hot coffee. There were about 200 people again.

Organizers asked for volunteers to sit down and form a human chain in front of both gates, warning they’d risk pepper spray. I volunteered. I thought they were being a bit dramatic about the risk. I learned about 50 people had stayed overnight in freezing temperatures. The day was warming up fast, and my ski jacket was uncomfortable. I decided they wouldn’t miss one old lady. At 11:30 a.m., I relinquished my place in the human chain and went home to change into lighter clothes.

I was gone for about 45 minutes. I called a fellow Quaker on my way back. She soon texted me an update: about a half-hour after I left, all hell had broken loose. ICE agents had cut the chains and bike locks, opened the gates, and sprayed the protesters at close range with pepper spray and rubber bullets. My friend had been sent to Walmart to pick up gallons of milk, an antidote for the spray. Two black SUVs had sped out. The rumor was the father and children were all being taken to the family detention center in Dilley, Texas. We had failed.

People had been taking video, and the story exploded on social media, in the local paper, and spread to state and national media, eventually reaching the New York Times. Our U.S. Senators and Congressman, for once, were in lockstep, demanding an investigation.

ICE later admitted they had mistaken the father, who has no criminal background, for a drug dealer. The Colorado Bureau of Investigation is now looking into the assault on the woman with the phone. Our legislators are demanding the family’s release.

Tourists see a wealthy, white town, but brown people live here. Now our brown neighbors are so shockingly threatened, the white “Durangatangs” are doing our best to protect them. I heard the mother of the family was in the crowd that night. I hope she saw how hard we fought, how much we want her and her family here, that we know getting pepper-sprayed is a small price to pay to move the needle just a hair toward justice. I think I speak for all 200 people when I say we will do it again. And next time I’ll stay for the duration.

Cindy Yurth is a member of Durango Monthly Meeting (IMYM).