FRESNO, Calif. – Lucio Enrique Saravia-Ramos arrived in the United States in 1985.
He was 22, and had come in search of a better life than the one he had in Morelos, Mexico.
He started working on farms throughout Fresno County. Then one day in January 1986 he was up on a ladder, pruning a nectarine tree when he heard a loud shout.
"La migra!"
It was coming from one of his 60-year-old co-workers.
"I was terrified," Saravia-Ramos said in Spanish.
He jumped off the ladder "like a deer," he said, and began running across the fields until he reached a grape vineyard.
The soil was wet and cool.
"I had to bury myself in the ground,” he said.
He had just arrived in the U.S. He didn’t have legal status yet. When he stood up and returned to work, he realized he was the only one who had run.
"My coworkers started laughing," Saravia-Ramos remembers.
In a fit of anger, he wanted to hit the man who shouted that immigration agents had arrived. But he didn’t, he said.
"Thank God I didn't. But it was an experience that left a deep mark on me. Even today, I still remember it and it hurts me so much."
Saravia-Ramos is now a U.S. citizen. He was among residents who were granted amnesty in 1995 under President Ronald Reagan.
Today, he makes a living selling women’s clothing at the Cherry Auction in Fresno, as well as at swap meets in Selma and Hanford.
These are venues frequented by immigrant families. But right now, those customers are not showing up as an immigration operation continues in California. It began at the start of October, and was set to last at least 45 days, according to agriculture leaders.
City and business leaders in the San Joaquin Valley denounced the raids in its early days. They called for congressional policy solutions that could stem the negative economic impacts that could be felt long after the enforcement actions pass.
Auction vendors are feeling the hit
Saravia-Ramos said that he has seen fewer people attending the auctions where he sells his goods. He said this has been increasingly common over the last three years, but the situation has worsened in recent weeks as the surge of immigration agents arrived in the San Joaquin Valley.
"Many of my fellow workers have stopped working," Saravia-Ramos said. "It’s just too much."
He said that even during the pandemic, his earnings were better than they are now.
On some days, "I end up with less money than I started with, because I don't manage to sell enough," he said.
He pays $48 for his auction space, on top of food and gasoline.
"It makes me feel sad for our people," he said.
Miguel Ángel Cueba-Pérez, 60, also sells goods at open air markets. He’s primarily stationed at the auction held at the Fresno fairgrounds on Sundays, where he sells clothing, toys and household items.
"It’s very slow, there are no customers, so we aren't making any sales. Most of us are going through this," Cueba-Pérez said in Spanish.
He’s originally from Jalisco, Mexico, but also became a U.S. citizen after the Reagan amnesty.
Although his wife works part-time at Addams Elementary School, Cueba-Pérez said it is not enough to support the couple and their daughter. He often takes up welding or other jobs to earn more money.
‘Wish that they were here’
The business impacts from ICE raids are just part of the picture. For many, it has gotten in the way of their worship routines, and their way of life.
The Darbar Sri Guru Granth Sahib Ji temple in southeast Fresno remains open 24 hours a day.
These temples, also known as Gurdwaras, are where people of the Sikh faith congregate – but less so in recent weeks.
"It just sucks," said Paramjot Singh, a 21-year-old volunteer at the temple. He manages the temple’s livestreams on YouTube.
"Super devoted people. You see them and you want to be like them, but when you see that they're not coming anymore because of [the] stuff that's going on, it makes you . . . wish that they were here,” Singh said.
Right now, many faithful are holding on to their beliefs as a source of consolation. In the Sikh faith, “chardikala” means positivity at any time. Singh says he’s trying to practice that.
"Even though the time is a little . . . iffy right now, it’ll work out in the end. It's just having a positive mindset where it goes a long way too,” said Singh’s older brother, Sohail Singh.
Weeks before this interview, Shalinder Singh Dang, the temple’s financial officer, said he was told ICE agents were nearby.
He was not present that day, but the accounts are common these days as people keep watch over their neighbors.
In southeast Fresno, at St. Anthony Mary Claret Church, a Catholic parish, the number of people attending mass has also dropped.
Father José Sánchez, the church’s pastor, said that up to 5,000 people attend the church across all the Sunday masses. But he estimates that there have been at least 500 fewer people in recent weeks.
Weekend donations have fallen by approximately 10 to 15%, he said.
Religious education classes for youth were also canceled because parents were afraid to drop off their kids.
"We know they have a reason to be afraid and to want to avoid going out to public places. We try to work with them as much as possible to help them," Sanchez said.
The bishop of the Diocese of Fresno, Joseph Brennan, issued a pastoral letter to the roughly one million Catholics in the Diocese in mid October telling them the Diocese would not be silent about the anxiety and fear of its parishioners.
Brennan said he was opposed to "indiscriminate mass deportation of people.”
“Even if you have not been personally affected by the increased immigration enforcement in our region, many of those who sit alongside you in the pews have been affected, with some already having been detained,” Brennan said.
At St. Anthony Mary Claret Church, Fr. Sánchez recalled an incident last year where ICE agents forced a church volunteer into a van outside a Vallarta supermarket in Fresno despite him being a U.S. citizen.
"It was a terrible experience for him. It was traumatic," Sánchez said. "To know that you're an American citizen, that you were born here, raised here, and yet you're treated this way, as if you have no rights whatsoever."
Sánchez said the parishioner still attends mass on Sundays, but he isn’t the same.
Martha Fimbres, 68, a volunteer at St. Anthony, has recently noticed the absence of two volunteers. She said one of them makes frequent requests for help getting groceries.
"We really miss them," Fimbres said.
