| The past two afternoons, I have been a volunteer with FAITH: “Faithful Accompaniment In Trust and Hope.” It’s a 3-month-old program of the Catholic diocese here to practice the ministry of presence and accompaniment at the federal immigration courthouse downtown. We stand in hallways outside courtrooms or sit in as observers. We talk to those waiting and offer to pray with them. Volunteers observe ICE detentions but don’t take photos or obstruct in any way. Today I witnessed a detention. As I waited outside for the dour security guard (a contractor) to let me into the building, a well-dressed Haitian family of 5 came into the line behind me, including baby Emmanuel. I told the husband I was a volunteer, pointed to my white F.A.I.T.H. button, and said that we pray for people if they’d like. His English was poor, but he thanked me and pointed upstairs, and we agreed we’d see each other up where immigration hearings happen. When the court went into session, little Emmanuel was fussy, so his mom brought him out into the hallway where I was standing. I prayed for them. Emmanuel seemed to understand the gesture and suddenly declaimed, “God is good!” Later, two ICE officers appeared and stood 20 feet down the hall. One looked at his phone and said quietly to his colleague, “One guy.” Cases came and went out the courtyard door. Mom and Emmanuel waited impatiently. He was squirming, so I invented a calming song featuring his name. He initially protested, but then quieted. Two more agents now appeared on the other end of the hallway, these two covered with bandit-style masks. I accompanied a different man and his attorney down the hall past the masked men. The ICE men looked at their phones, looked up to compare the image with the face, and did nothing. They never spoke verbally to one another. I’m sure their work is very challenging. At long last, the Haitian father emerged with their two elementary-aged children behind him. They chatted with their lawyer while Dad and I nodded to each other. One of the nearby ICE agents approached and handed the attorney a notice that the father needed to check in downstairs. As the family walked toward the elevator, another volunteer and I decided to walk with them. While we waited for the elevator to arrive, I had a moment to pray for the family. I whispered to the lawyer that the ICE agents were apparently waiting specifically for his client. When the attorney and the father got out to check in at the ICE office, he firmly told the mother to stay in the elevator and take the kids down to the lobby. I got out with the men, while my female colleague accompanied the rest of the family. Presently, the attorney reappeared from the check-in room, now alone. With a fatalistic sigh, he told us the father had been detained. He’d had a minor offense on his record from a year ago and they were afraid this might happen today, that perhaps the scheduled hearing before the immigration judge was also a convenient way to get them into the building. To their credit, the officers did not handcuff this man in front of his children. Likewise, the attorney reported that his client was treated respectfully when they’d arrested him inside. Soon, the arrestee walked out between two of the ICE agents, handcuffed and on his way to a holding cell in the basement of the federal courthouse building. We locked eyes while I put my hands together in a sign of prayer. The attorney then went to update the family, and that scene was heart-wrenching. The mother and two grade-school children began sobbing, and that made little Emmanuel cry, too. The eldest, a boy of about ten, paced incessantly in circles and mumbled in his native tongue, probably asking over and over why they had arrested his father. Having been the eldest of my siblings, I recall the pressure of trying to grasp what it suddenly means to “be the man of the family” when trauma hits. His mother doesn’t drive and perhaps doesn’t earn any income. The future looks dim for them. Their Sunday-best outfits, perhaps borrowed, couldn’t cover their naked disorientation. Volunteers arranged for her and the children to get a lift home safely. That took some time and added more trauma. It was a rough day they’ll never forget; an indelible dark memory. Should they be in America? I don’t know. But I know that they are in America, and today our government brought them quite a bit of trauma. I was not proud of my country. Cory November 2025 PS: By coincidence, the New York Times this evening posted this photojournalistic article about detentions in the very facility where I’ve begun volunteering. The situation is definitely calmer than when the reporter was there 2-3 weeks ago… some credit FAITH with helping lower the temperature. Dynamics seem to shift each week… https://www.nytimes.com/card/2025/11/08/us/immigration-ice-san-diego-courthouse |
Cory Trenda 
Cory this is heartbreaking. So grateful you are serving with this powerful prayer ministry. This is not the America I know â so sad.
Hope you are well â you are in my prayers.
Kathy
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