Portrait of a California family torn apart by ICE

A photo taken about 20 years ago of Albino Mandujano Eutimio is held by his daughter Adriana Mandujano. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

When U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrested a longtime Oxnard worker, Albino Mandujano Eutimio, in May, the sudden action changed the lives of his family, who continue to reel and adjust in his absence today.

"He called me from the detention center and asked if I could take my brothers, Nico and Lalo, to handle his jobs while he's detained," his daughter, Adriana Mandujano, told SFGATE. Leaving no time to grieve, she had rides to arrange, bills to pay, and urgent plans to make to support her father, now held at the Desert View Annex in Adelanto.

Her father was detained in the morning, on his way to retrieve a machine he had left at a job site the day before. It was a strategy that ICE has used before. 

"They always get picked up on their way to work," said Elizabeth Ramirez Barragan, the immigration attorney representing the Oxnard worker and a California immigration legal fellow with the Mixteco Indígena Community Organizing Project, or MICOP. The morning Mandujano Eutimio was arrested, she said, was no accident, adding that "ICE usually conducts raids as early as 5 a.m. because they know that's when people are heading out to work."

Mandujano Eutimio, who is undocumented but has been in the country for over 25 years, has built his livelihood by servicing restaurants, shopping plazas, commercial buildings and apartments across Camarillo and Los Angeles, removing graffiti, pressure washing, cleaning windows, deep cleaning, doing carpentry and whatever else clients needed.

"What people don't see is a hardworking father and an animal lover." Nico Mandujano cradles Nono, his father, Albino Mandujano Eutimio's, beloved dog. Eutimo was taken into ICE custody in May in Oxnard, Calif., on his way to work. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

Albino Mandujano Eutimio's hat still hangs in the family home in the exact spot where he left it before he was detained. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

Lalo Mandujano holds two stuffed animals he received during his graduation. His father, Albino Mandujano Eutimio, did not see his son walk across the graduation stage earlier this month as he was taken by ICE on his way to work in May. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

His daughter said her father remains optimistic he'll be able to keep his clients, but she's not so sure. "I don't think the reality of the detention has fully hit him yet," she said, adding that the disruption could mean losing the business he's spent years building.

Surveillance footage of her father being arrested was provided by the Sinclair gas station in Oxnard, a place where he had long been a familiar face. "He's been a customer here for years and is friends with everyone," said Juan Conches, the gas station attendant.

In a statement posted to X, the Department of Homeland Security responded to a report and video documenting Mandujano Eutimio's arrest, stating that "his 19-year-old son took possession of his vehicle."

But Adriana Mandujano, who was on the phone with her 19-year-old brother, Nico, during the arrest, told SFGATE that an ICE officer asked him whether he had a driver's license. Her brother replied that he did not, making him unable to take possession of the vehicle.

In making the footage of her father's arrest public, Mandujano hopes to humanize the consequences of stringent immigration policies, but fears people may quickly move on. "What people don't see is a hardworking father and an animal lover," she said, adding, "His best friend is Nono, a 10-year-old dog with no teeth that he would take to work in his truck."

A still photo from the surveillance footage at the Sinclair gas station in Oxnard, Calif., where Albino Mandujano Eutimio was taken by ICE agents in early May. (Video still courtesy SInclair)

Sitting in her family's living room four days after the arrest, Mandujano watched the surveillance video freeze on the image of ICE agents encircling her father at the gas pump. She wiped away tears as the footage played again. A relative wrapped an arm around her shoulders in quiet support. "I think family separations are becoming normalized in this country," she said, "just like gun violence."

The arrest has upended the family. It has also activated a network of community-based support. As soon as Mandujano learned about her father's arrest, she contacted the 805 Immigrant Rapid Response Network, a coalition led by 805 UndocuFund that dispatches trained volunteers to respond to ICE activity across San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara and Ventura counties, offering immediate on-the-ground assistance to families in crisis.

In addition to Mandujano's job at Starbucks, she works with MICOP, where she has been trained to respond to immigration enforcement encounters. That preparation, she said, helped her remain focused in a moment of crisis.

Following his arrest, her father connected with immigration attorney Ramirez Barragan through MICOP, a lifeline as he begins mounting a legal defense from inside detention. "There are several remedies we are considering for my client," Ramirez Barragan told SFGATE. 

Ramirez Barragan said she learned of the Oxnard worker's arrest through the 805 Immigrant Rapid Response Network. As an immigration attorney and California immigration legal fellow with MICOP, she has been on the front lines of recent ICE raids. 

Inside the truck where Albino Mandujano Eutimio was detained, photos of his sons rest on the dashboard. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

However, the attorney expressed concern about the limited resources available to support everyone in need. "Given our limited capacity, we've established a protocol with the Rapid Response Network," Ramirez Barragan said. "When a call comes in and the individual is identified as Indigenous, especially if they speak only their Indigenous language, they are referred directly to us for a rapid response."

According to Ramirez Barragan, the prioritization of Indigenous community members is rooted in the recognition that they are among the most marginalized in the immigration system, often navigating language barriers, limited access to legal counsel, and systemic erasure.

The father's next legal steps are still unknown, but should he pursue asylum, the presence of legal counsel could be pivotal. According to data from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, asylum seekers with attorneys are significantly more likely to be granted asylum than those without counsel.

805 UndocuFund has also provided emergency financial assistance to the family, offering a crucial buffer as the family braces for the uncertain times ahead. To supplement that aid, a close friend of the Mandujano launched a GoFundMe campaign, which has raised over $17,000, to help cover living expenses, legal fees and other urgent needs as the family navigates life without their father, their primary provider.

In tightly knit Indigenous communities, the detention of a single family member can upend routines, straining emotional bonds and leaving a lingering sense of fear. For the mixed-status family of the man arrested, the effects were immediate. With her mother absent for years, Adriana Mandujano was thrust overnight into the role of primary provider for her two younger brothers, ages 19 and 17.

From left to right, Nico, Adriana and Lalo Mandujano stand leaning against their father's truck. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

According to immigration policy researchers, the detention of a primary earner can mark the beginning of a financial crisis in a mixed-status household. The loss results in a $51,200 drop in annual earnings on average.

For this family, the crisis is already unfolding. Since several generations live in the home their father rented, his children have been scrambling to cover rent and keep up with bills, all while trying to save for the mounting legal expenses their father may face in the immigration system.

Cracks have already begun to show. Mandujano Eutimio routinely sent money to his mother in Mexico, but on a day when a payment was expected, his family couldn't follow through after the arrest. "It's affected a whole network," his daughter said.

The mental health toll is another concern. "Often, young people fall into addiction out of helplessness, not because they want to, but because they can't find another way to release the pain they're carrying," said the father's sister, who was granted anonymity in accordance with Hearst's ethics policy. She spoke while reflecting on the uncertain future for her niece and nephews.

Public health experts say that such trauma can have lasting consequences. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, adverse childhood experiences, which are potentially traumatic events, like witnessing the arrest of a parent, can disrupt brain development and alter the body's response to stress. Over time, those effects can manifest as chronic health issues, mental illness and increased vulnerability to addiction.

Lalo Mandujano holds a photo of his sister, Adriana Mandujano, who has been a mother figure to him and his brother since their early childhood. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

Adriana Mandujano looks at her father's personal belongings in his room. (Photo by Susana Canales Barrón)

For now, Mandujano says she worries about how the experience is affecting her brothers. "On the surface, they look like they're not being affected, but I can see how our father's arrest has already changed them," she said, noticing how they've become quieter and more withdrawn since the arrest.

The brothers are considering taking over their father's small business, but neither drives, and the 20-year-old work truck he left behind is barely driveable. The truck's gas gauge is broken, and the speedometer is nonfunctional. "My dad bought the truck when my oldest brother was born, so he's attached to it," she said, noting that her father has long refused to part with it.

Earlier this month, Lalo Mandujano, the youngest brother in the family, crossed the stage in his cap and gown, diploma in hand, as cheers echoed through the high school stadium. While many of his classmates embraced their parents in the stands, his father was more than a hundred miles away, confined behind the walls of the Adelanto detention center.

It wasn't until hours later that he could finally share the moment. Through a low-resolution video call on Global Tel Link, father and son celebrated a fractured version of a rite of passage across the detention walls and digital glass.

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