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Home Depots become prime locations for immigration enforcement

Home Depots become prime locations for immigration enforcement
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LOS ANGELES — The recent presence of federal agents in tactical gear at Home Depot parking lots across Southern California has shaken the region’s undocumented day laborer community, forcing many to weigh the risk of deportation against the urgent need to earn a living.

On Friday, at least two Los Angeles-area Home Depot locations — in North Hollywood and Alhambra — were targeted in what appears to be part of a broader immigration enforcement push by the Trump administration. Several workers were detained, with immigrant rights organizers demanding to see warrants and attempting to gather information from agents as laborers were handcuffed and led away.

These scenes have become increasingly common over the summer. For many laborers, these parking lots are their only chance to find steady income amid a still-recovering local economy, burdened by the aftermath of January’s wildfires and rising construction costs due to tariffs.

Each morning, workers gather at these locations hoping to get hired for a day’s work — or, if lucky, for longer-term construction projects. But the ongoing threat of immigration raids is taking a psychological toll. Many say they are haunted by what they’ve witnessed, unable to sleep after seeing friends and family members detained.

“What choice do we have?” said Arturo, a day laborer in Los Angeles who spoke in Spanish. “We can’t just stay home. We have kids, rent, bills, food to pay for.”

Arturo, like others who spoke to NBC News, requested anonymity out of fear of being identified or targeted by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

The latest round of arrests comes a week after the tragic death of Roberto Carlos Montoya Valdez, a Guatemalan day laborer who died while fleeing from immigration agents in Monrovia. Montoya ran into a nearby freeway and was struck by a vehicle. He was in the U.S. without legal status.

His niece, Mariela Mendez, spoke at a vigil held in his memory. “He wasn’t a criminal. He came here to work hard and build a better life,” she said.

The Department of Homeland Security claimed that Montoya was not actively being pursued when he died. Home Depot, for its part, declined to comment on the incident or provide information about the number of arrests made on its properties.

“We aren’t notified about ICE operations and often don’t find out until after they’ve happened,” the company said in a statement. “We comply with all federal and local laws wherever we operate.”

Near the site of Montoya’s death, Jose, a fellow day laborer, sat in his truck sobbing quietly. He pointed to a small tree where Montoya used to lock his bicycle each morning.

“He was a good guy, always talking and laughing with everyone,” said Jose, who had known Montoya for about five years. He arrived late that day and was confused by the chaos — helicopters overhead, police activity, and frozen traffic.

“It feels like it happened to all of us,” he said in Spanish. “We’re a community here.”

Despite his grief, Jose returned to the same parking lot the next day. The fear of losing a day’s pay, he said, keeps him up at night.

Nearby, Felipe, another day laborer, waited quietly under the shade of a tree. He’s been coming to this Home Depot for five years, after losing his job in the restaurant industry during the COVID-19 pandemic. But jobs have become scarce — first because of wildfires, then tariffs, and now the threat of immigration enforcement.

“Thank God I wasn’t here when they got Carlos,” Felipe said. “I’d be in Mexico now with nothing.”

He pointed to the same tree Jose had and recalled seeing Montoya there just days earlier, talking and smiling. “He looked happy.”

Nancy Meza, an organizer with the National Day Laborers Organizing Network, works with volunteers to monitor enforcement activity across Southern California. Her team keeps watch over parking lots and street corners, sounding the alarm when agents are nearby.

“There’s a lot of anxiety, but also resilience,” Meza said. “Many workers say it’s worse to live in fear doing nothing — they’d rather take the risk and keep working.”

Back at another Home Depot, Arturo reflected on his 25 years in the U.S. He regrets not learning English or seeking citizenship. He said the path to legal status is long and expensive — some of his friends spent nearly $15,000 and waited almost a decade.

Arturo had planned to return to Mexico after saving money, but he built a life here. He fell in love, started a family, and now has teenage children. Taking them back to a country they’ve never known doesn’t feel like an option.

So, he keeps working six days a week, leaving Sundays for family and church.

“The risks are real,” he said. “But we still come out. We have to eat. We have to survive.”

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