The Men Trump Deported to a Salvadoran Prison

Justo migrated to the U.S. in April 2024, moving in with his older sister and her family in San Antonio. He worked as a helper on construction jobs but could only do light work because of a lingering leg injury, his sister told us. He has a tattoo of a skull on his arm. It’s unclear if this tattoo played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Justo as having a criminal conviction for a traffic offense. We found records showing he was arrested in San Antonio for drunk driving on his 22nd birthday in October. He pleaded no contest to the misdemeanor charge in January and was sentenced to 70 days in jail in Bexar County, Texas, which he had already served. Then he was transferred to immigration detention. His sister said the offense didn’t justify being imprisoned in a foreign country. “A lot of people here are arrested for the same thing, and they are released,” she said.

Rubio had been living in the U.S. for about two years and working in a construction job, according to a social media post from his mother, Milagros del Valle Petrola Armas. She said in the post that she hadn’t heard from her son since March 14, the day before the men were flown to El Salvador. It’s unclear if Rubio’s tattoos, which include the word “family” on his neck, played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Rubio as having pending criminal charges. We found records showing that he was charged in Lake County, Indiana, with organized theft and resisting law enforcement in April 2024 and driving without a license in September 2024. In July 2024, he was charged in Chicago with driving with no license, no registration and no insurance. The outcomes of the three cases are unclear.

Laya is a father of five and worked at a stone countertop company in Colorado, according to USA Today. His wife told the newspaper that the family had fled Venezuela and requested asylum in the U.S. In late January, he was taken into custody by federal agents along with a cousin. Laya had a valid work permit and temporary protected status, which allowed him to live and work legally in the U.S., according to USA Today. He had a pending asylum application when he was deported and imprisoned, according to our analysis of immigration court data. His family told us he doesn’t have tattoos.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Laya as having pending criminal charges. We could not find related court or police records, and the Trump administration declined to provide information to support the claim. A man with the same name, and of the same age, was arrested in a stabbing in 2013 in the Venezuelan state of Vargas, according to news reports. We could not obtain related records. His wife, who was already married to Laya at the time, denied to us he was involved. “He has never been in jail,” she said. “He’s a family man.”

Briceño worked in construction in the U.S. alongside his brother, Jean Carlos Briceño González, and a cousin, Jonathan Alejandro Mendoza Ramírez. All three were detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement and deported to El Salvador, relatives said in a video on Instagram.

He was not flagged as having criminal convictions or pending charges in U.S. government data that we obtained, and we found no related court or police records.

Querales migrated to the U.S. with his wife and daughter, according to his family’s social media posts. He lived in Colorado, where he worked in construction. His family claims he was tricked into signing his deportation papers thinking he was going to Venezuela but instead was flown to El Salvador. According to a warrant for his arrest in which officials describe him as a Tren de Aragua member, he has several names tattooed on his chest and back, a cross on his wrists and an anchor inside of a clock. It’s unclear if his tattoos played a role in the government labeling him a member of the gang.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Querales as having a criminal conviction for assault. According to Lakewood police in Colorado, he is “a self-admitted Tren de Aragua gang member.” He is one of a few individuals the White House has confirmed in a news release are in El Salvador, stating that he was convicted on felony assault charges of causing reckless and serious bodily injury with a deadly weapon. We found records showing that in March 2024, in Edgewater, Colorado, he was arrested for attempted murder, illegal discharge of a firearm and reckless endangerment. A police affidavit said Querales allegedly got into a verbal argument with his brother-in-law, pulled out a pistol and fired three shots at him. In November, he pleaded guilty to assault with a deadly weapon and the other charges were dropped. He was sentenced to two years of probation.

Uzcátegui left high school in Venezuela to work and help support his family after his father became ill, his partner, Gabriela Elizabeth Mora Méndez, told us. Later he worked at a coal mine, where he drove the trucks that hauled out the coal. In early 2024, he and Mora agreed that he would migrate to the U.S. and then send for her and her young daughter, whom he helped raise, she said. He worked for nine months in Mexico City at a seafood shop until he secured an appointment with U.S. border officials made via the CBP One app in Brownsville, Texas, in December. The Biden administration used the app to try to bring order to the soaring numbers of migrants attempting to enter the U.S. He told Mora that immigration officers separated the migrants into two lines: those with tattoos and those without. Uzcátegui has more than a dozen tattoos, including stars, crowns, the names of loved ones and a butterfly. He was questioned about the tattoos and detained until he was flown to El Salvador, Mora said. It’s unclear if his tattoos played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang.

He was not flagged as having criminal convictions or pending charges in U.S. government data that we obtained, and we found no related court or police records.

Lozano lived in Colombia before migrating to the U.S. as an unaccompanied minor just before he turned 18. Once in the U.S., he lived in Houston, where he met his partner, Leslie Aranda, a U.S. citizen. She said Lozano received his work authorization card, but he mostly washed and detailed the cars of clients he found on Facebook. He lived with Aranda and her young daughter, whom she said he treated like his own, even tattooing her name on his arm. It’s unclear if his tattoos, which also include a rose and crown over his niece’s name, played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang. A 2024 legal settlement barred authorities from deporting Lozano and other unaccompanied minors in the middle of their asylum processes.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Lozano as having a criminal conviction for dangerous drugs. We found records showing that, in January, Lozano pleaded guilty to a felony drug possession charge in Harris County, Texas. Aranda said she expected Lozano would face consequences for his drug charges, and she had resigned herself to his possible deportation to Venezuela. “He’s no different than anyone else who commits a crime,” she told us. “But what I’m not OK with is this whole process of him being sent to El Salvador.”

Perozo is a father who worked as a barber in Dallas, his mother said on social media. He was detained by immigration officials on March 14 while at work. His mother said she relied on her son for financial support. Perozo’s relatives have said that he has tattoos, though not what kind. It’s unclear if those tattoos played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang.

U.S. government data we obtained does not list Perozo as having criminal convictions or pending charges. We couldn’t locate any court or police records.

Ramos, a father of four, worked providing phone technical assistance and installing security cameras in Venezuela before migrating to the U.S., his mother, Lina Ramos, told us. He migrated to the U.S. and entered in January with an appointment with border officials made via the CBP One app, which the Biden administration used to try to bring order to the soaring numbers of migrants attempting to enter the country. Ramos then went to live with a cousin in Utah. Since he didn’t have a work permit, he often accompanied a cousin, Carlos Ramos, to his job as a security guard, the cousin told us. As they traveled to work one afternoon, immigration officials pulled them over and arrested them. The cousin, who was later released, said that he had a Venezuelan sticker on his car and believes that might be why they were stopped. According to the cousin, both showed documents indicating that they’d been allowed to enter the U.S., but officials detained them anyway. At an Immigration and Customs Enforcement office, officials questioned them and made them undress, according to the cousin. He said he heard the officials asking Ramos about his tattoos. Though the cousin was released that day, Ramos remained detained. The family believes he was held because of his tattoos, which include a rose on his hand and the names and dates of birth of loved ones. It’s unclear if the tattoos played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang. Ramos had a pending asylum application when he was deported and imprisoned, according to our analysis of immigration court data.

He is not flagged as having a criminal conviction or pending charges in U.S. government data we obtained, and we found no related court or police records.

As a teenager, Zabaleta followed his father to Colombia and worked as a carpenter. He came to the U.S. in 2023 but was deported to Mexico. He tried again later that year, entering illegally between ports of entry and surrendering himself to authorities. He was detained for about seven months and ordered deported, his father said. Because Venezuela was not taking many flights of deportees at the time, Zabaleta was eventually released. Zabaleta lived with his father in Oklahoma City. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents detained him in early February as he and his father, who had also moved to the U.S., were driving to their jobs as carpenters. Zabaleta has two children who live in Chile with their mother. He has tattoos with the names of his dead mother and his brother on his arms. It’s unclear if those tattoos played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang. “My son doesn’t belong to any gang,” his father said. “He hasn’t committed a crime. He came to this country for the benefit of his children and to create a better future for them.”

He was not flagged as having criminal convictions or pending charges in U.S. government data that we obtained, and we found no related court or police records.