http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/l ... 31,00.html
With the tears come anger, defiance
Darin McGregor © Rocky Mountai News


As her daughters, Denis Nieto-Lopez, 12, left, and Mayra Nieto-Lopez, 16, stand behind her, Carmen Lopez weeps for her husband, Ildefonso Nieto-Nava, whom she hasn't heard from since he was taken into custody Tuesday in a federal raid on the Swift & Co. meatpacking plant in Greeley, where he worked.


By Fernando Quintero, Rocky Mountain News
December 14, 2006
GREELEY - Inside her dilapidated but tidy trailer, Carmen Lopez waited anxiously Wednesday for word of her husband's whereabouts.She was told by the Mexican Consulate in Denver that he likely was deported to Juarez after a raid Tuesday on the Swift & Co. meatpacking plant here by federal officials.
The thought of her husband in the border town without any money or phone numbers of family members in Mexico brought her to tears, as her two teenage daughters wept silently behind her.

"It's been very hard," said Lopez, who has lived with her family in the United States for more than 10 years. "All we wanted was a better life for ourselves and our children. Is that a crime? Should we be punished for that?"

At a nearby trailer at River Front Trailer Park, where the big Swift plant looms in the distance, Veronica Rodriguez also waits.

"A lot of us have lost our husbands. Our sons. Our daughters. Our mothers."

"But I'll be damned if I'm going to let my family get torn apart," added Rodriguez, her voice trembling with anger. "I'm going to get my husband back. My son will get his father back."

There's a lot of anger among residents in this part of town, which many Hispanics call home.

There is also fear.

Wednesday, at a street corner on 14th Avenue, where dozens of day laborers usually wait for someone to give them work, there were only Pedro Ceballos and Jose Ramirez.

"People are afraid to come out of their homes," said Ceballos, 46. "But we need to survive."

Ramirez said he came to seek work because his hunger was stronger than his fear.

"If I get picked up by immigration, it's God's will," he said. "Until then, I'll do what I have to do."

At a noon press conference in the basement of Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church, community activists expressed outrage as women whose husbands were taken away consoled one another.

"We want to cry. We want to swear. Yesterday, we saw the dehumanization of our community, in front of our community," said Priscilla Falcon, an instructor at the University of Northern Colorado.

Maria Rivas has been left with five small children and no one to support them. Her youngest, 3-year-old Oscar Rivas, pricked up his ears when she was asked about his father.

"Papa?" he asked, looking around the room.

"All day, he looks out the window waiting for his father to come home," Rivas said,

"He's never done anything wrong," she said of Oscar's father. "He's never had any problems with police. He doesn't drink. He doesn't do bad things. We go to church. His only crime was working with crooked documents."

As the news conference began, Father Bernie Schmidtz held back tears.

"My heart was broken yesterday," he said, then paused while he struggled to regain his composure.

"There was an awful lot of people who I saw Sunday after Sunday who are now gone," he said. "As a community, we've been affected deeply and personally."

Community activists, who allege that legal residents and American citizens were detained for hours and possibly even deported, threatened lawsuits.

One man warned of a revolt.

"Young people are fed up with seeing their family members and loved ones treated like animals," said Ricardo Romero, a member of the local community group Al Frente. "We've tried to maintain stability. But they're going to explode on us.

"When you attack a person's family, it's only natural to fight back. How do you get people to understand how volatile the situation has become?"