TEMPLE — Erasmo Zavala grasped a prison-issued orange mesh bag as he stepped into his Berks County apartment after nearly two months in ICE detention.
He hugged his wife Maria, daughter, and sisters-in-law, holding each until tears welled in his eyes. Meanwhile, Bobi, the family dog, jumped up and down, barking and pawing at Zavala’s legs.
When Maria handed him his toddler granddaughter, Selene, and he held her in his arms, family and friends let out a collective “aww.”
Amid the hugs, the tears, the laughter, and the dog barking nonstop, Zavala cracked a joke. He said “vacation was over,” and now he had to get back to work.
For Zavala, the celebration marked the end of 45 days in ICE detention, including at Moshannon Valley Processing Center in Pennsylvania. The Clearfield County facility is one of the largest in the country, where detainee deaths and allegations of inhumane conditions have drawn scrutiny from advocates, attorneys, and elected officials.
His case illustrates a broader legal dispute over an ICE policy for humanitarian visa applicants that has led to the detention and deportation of victims of human trafficking, domestic violence, and crime who cooperated with law enforcement. Zavala’s release was secured by a court victory, but it’s far from the only case seeking to restore protections.
In April, Zavala was arrested by ICE on his way to his job at a metal and industrial salvage yard, even though he had applied for a U visa. The humanitarian program, created by Congress in 2000 and run by U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, provides relief for undocumented victims and witnesses who cooperate with law enforcement.
Zavala and his wife applied after helping Berks County law enforcement investigate the domestic violence murder of their daughter, Selena, and the attempted murder of their granddaughter, Selene.
Before Trump’s second term, ICE agents were directed to check for pending U and T visa applications when making arrests to avoid detaining victims and witnesses of crime. However, in January 2025, ICE issued new policy guidance that rescinded the previous victim-centered approach that encouraged agents to use discretion.
ICE identified Zavala for enforcement after USCIS flagged him as an applicant with a prior immigration order following his biometrics appointment. The agency placed him in deportation proceedings before USCIS had completed a preliminary review of his case.
While Zavala was detained, USCIS found that his application met basic eligibility requirements — a bona fide designation that gave him work authorization and four years of protection against deportation.
A decisive court order from Judge Stephanie Haines of the Western District of Pennsylvania would later lead to his release from “unlawful” detention. Haines sharply criticized the federal government for applying a "blind removal policy” to U visa applicants, echoing other judges who say ICE has failed to consider Congress’ original goal of encouraging immigrant victims to report crime.
A few days earlier, on May 20, a federal judge in California issued a nationwide preliminary injunction blocking the January 2025 ICE policy and certifying three nationwide classes of U visa, T visa, and Violence Against Women Act petitioners. The ruling should temporarily protect members of these classes from detention and deportation as the case plays out. However, the Trump administration could appeal or choose to ignore the order.
During his time in ICE detention, Zavala was sent from Pennsylvania to Louisiana. ICE agents did not interview Zavala or ask about his U visa application before transferring him, according to a declaration filed in federal court.
He said he was kept in the dark throughout the process, receiving little information about why he was being detained or where he was being taken.
Zavala feared the worst: deportation, separation from his family, and the possibility that, overnight, he would no longer be able to take care of those who relied on him.
‘They treat you as if you really were some kind of criminal’
The first days at Moshannon were the most difficult, Zavala said.
He had to get used to the frigid temperatures inside his block, the bland rice and beans served at mealtime every day, his narrow bed, and feeling like he had no control over his daily routine. Zavala estimates there were about 80 people in his open block.
He coped by building community. He and other detainees created an informal support network, sharing food, trading supplies, and spending time together during recreational periods. Using a water bottle, Zavala and others created refried beans using butter and seasonings purchased at the commissary. They used the ingredients to make sandwiches and other snacks, which they shared and ate together as a group.
Zavala said he made a point of welcoming newly arrived blockmates and offering food because of how difficult his first days in detention had been.
“I believe that the very experiences we go through make us react in a way that helps us become better people and to get along with everyone in a better way," Zavala said.
Many of the men housed alongside Zavala at Moshannon had been there for months while fighting deportation or seeking immigration relief, he said. Nationwide data show that very few people detained by ICE have criminal records. That includes Zavala.
Zavala said he was transferred from Moshannon to Louisiana. Twice, he said, officers there woke him in the middle of the night and drove him to an airport. Each time, he feared he was about to be deported to Mexico.
When he got to the airport the second time, ICE officials informed him he was going back to Pennsylvania. By that time, his lawyer had filed a temporary restraining order to stop his deportation, and a judge had granted it.
“They put a chain around us and tied it to our handcuffed hands, and they also handcuffed our feet throughout the whole transport process. Sometimes, when you stop and think about it, it feels inhumane,” Zavala said. “They treat you as if you really were some kind of criminal. But what kind of criminal dedicates himself to his family and mostly goes from work to home?"
A home in Berks County
Zavala and his wife, Maria, are from a rural town in the state of Guanajuato in Mexico. The couple first came to the U.S. in 2004 through Arizona and made their way to Pennsylvania, where Zavala’s siblings were living at the time.
Going to the U.S. was his first big “adventure,” Zavala said. He had never traveled outside Guanajuato before that.
The couple’s oldest daughter, Selena, was born that year. Another daughter, Stephanie, followed a year later. The Zavalas settled in Wilkes-Barre, where they got jobs in landscaping.
In 2010, they relocated the family to Mexico as part of a voluntary order of departure, which allows people subject to deportation to leave the U.S. without having a formal order on their record.
Zavala came back to the U.S. in 2015 to get a better-paying job and send money back to Mexico. His daughters followed after high school to seek better opportunities and reunite with him and other relatives in Berks County. In 2023, Maria and her sister traveled to the U.S. to join the rest of the family. Today, her sister lives next door.
Their big family was on display during the party to mark Zavala’s return. Family and friends gathered around a table to eat green pozole with tostadas and celebrate his return. Zavala demurred when Maria brought out an elaborate tres leches cake and said it was too much, but eventually did eat a piece. As the night went on, more family members stopped by to give Zavala a hug and share food.
Also there was Bridget Cambria, Zavala’s attorney, and Adriana Zambrano, programs coordinator at Aldea PJC, who brought Erasmo his work authorization. It had arrived by mail while he was detained.
Maria says she still feels “divided in two” between her life in Mexico and the life she built in Pennsylvania. Her parents and other siblings remain in Guanajuato, but she knows she cannot leave the United States while her granddaughter continues to recover and her U visa application remains pending.
In Mexico, she and Zavala had a modest house, farm animals, and could live off the land. Here, she leans on nearby relatives as she carries the grief of losing Selena and the pain of having missed her daughter’s funeral in Mexico.
“Part of it is also with my daughter in Mexico,” she said. “The only wish I have is that one day I can go see her grave.”
Now that he is back home, Zavala is settling back into a life that, for nearly two months, he feared might be taken away from him.
The Monday after his release, he returned to work in his uniform, not entirely sure whether his old job would still be there for him. His supervisors greeted him warmly when he came back, and when Zavala asked if he should stay or go home, they insisted he start work immediately because clients missed him.
His bona fide status granted through the U visa process opens new job opportunities for Zavala. Right now, he is focused on getting a Social Security number so that he can get a driver’s license. He also hopes to make more money in the future so that he can buy a house with a yard big enough to have family cookouts.
Maria is also happy to have her husband back. She missed their banter and teasing, and that Zavala would always be the first one to wake up and brew coffee for the entire household.
“Maybe with time you don’t really heal the wound. Maybe you just learn to live with what happened, with the loss of our daughter,” Maria said. “Then even more difficult to go through this as well, with him being detained and everything.”
Together, they are committed to raising Selene and giving her the future her mother would have wanted for her.
“We have to do our best so she’s in a good situation. And now, to give her all the love and affection she needs in the absence of her parents,” Zavala said. “Since they are not here, we are going to be truly loving and caring parents to her.”
