In Trump’s first 100 days, ICE arrested 21,000 undocumented immigrants—over twice the previous year’s count—with more than 5,000 having no criminal record.
One such case took place in Granger, Indiana, where residents were shocked by the deportation of Roberto Beristain, a well-known restaurant owner who had lived in the U.S. since 1998 and held a work permit, Social Security number, and driver’s license.
Married to a U.S. citizen and father to three American-born children, Beristain had no criminal record.
“I voted for [Trump] because he said he was going to get rid of the bad hombres. Roberto is a good hombre,” said Dave Keck, a regular at Eddie’s Steak Shed, the restaurant Beristain owned. The establishment is described by patrons as a cornerstone of the community, a place for “conversation and cholesterol.”
Beristain’s wife, Helen, a naturalised U.S. citizen originally from Greece, described her husband as hard-working and deeply devoted to his family.
“He’s not a criminal. The only bad thing he’s done is stayed in the United States because he loves this country. That’s his only crime,” she said.
Beristain’s deportation resulted from a 2000 incident when he was detained near the Canadian border after a wrong turn during a trip to Niagara Falls.
He agreed to voluntarily leave the U.S. within 60 days but never did, leading to a “final order of removal” — a legal designation that now plays a central role in ICE’s expanded deportation efforts under President Trump.
Trump’s executive order, signed just five days into office, broadened the scope of immigration enforcement to include individuals with outstanding deportation orders, regardless of criminal history.
Helen Beristain recounted how her husband complied with annual ICE check-ins under the Obama administration, but during a February 6 appointment in Indianapolis, shortly after the executive order was signed, he was detained.
“He said, ‘Your husband is being detained because he is a fugitive.’ I said, ‘My husband is a fugitive? My husband is not running from you. He came to you.’”
Supporters argue Beristain was targeted precisely because he was visible and compliant. “He wasn’t hiding,” said Michelle Craig, a family friend. “So they grabbed somebody who was following the rules.”
ICE declined an interview but issued a statement saying Beristain’s detention was consistent with federal immigration law. James Carafano, a policy expert at the Heritage Foundation and member of Trump’s transition team, defended the enforcement.
“We have an obligation to enforce the law. And if somebody comes across our path who’s broken the law, then you know what, they’re probably going to go,” he said.
Beristain’s journey through the detention system involved multiple transfers — from Indiana to Wisconsin, Illinois, Louisiana, New Mexico, and Texas — often without his family knowing where he was or why he was moved. Deporting someone under these circumstances, analysts say, costs about $11,000.
The Beristain children, ages 8, 14, and 16, say they struggle to understand their father’s removal. “He makes a family a family,” said Jasmine Beristain. “When he’s gone… it’s like it’s all going down.”
Since the story gained national attention, the family has received hate mail and threats. “You got people hating people left and right. This is not America,” said Helen Beristain.
On April 4, Roberto Beristain was deported to Juarez, Mexico. Speaking from a church-run shelter, he remained hopeful. “Wherever I go, they are going to be with me. Everything is going to be OK,” he said.
Some of Beristain’s former supporters say his deportation changed their views on immigration enforcement.
“If I was told that peaceful immigrants that are trying, are in the process of becoming an American citizen would be deported, I would not have voted for Trump,” said Michelle Craig.
“He’s not taking jobs,” added another supporter, Kimberly Glowacki. “He’s creating jobs.”
Carafano maintained that strict enforcement sends a clear message:
“That American immigration laws are going to be enforced… That’s an important message.” When asked if discretion should be applied in cases like Beristain’s, he said, “I don’t enforce the law… I don’t say where there is room for discretion.”
For the Beristain family, the consequences are deeply personal. “I should have listened closely to those debates. That was a mistake I made. I didn’t listen,” said Helen Beristain, reflecting on her vote.