Who Are the Venezuelan Immigrants Trump Sent to CECOT? — ProPublica

Little public information is available about Girón’s life in Venezuela or how he came to the U.S., other than that he has two young children, according to his sister, who declined to say more. Please reach out if you have information to share.

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.

Medina graduated from high school in Venezuela, according to his mother, Tibisay Martínez. In 2018, he moved to Peru, then to Paraguay, with his mother, his partner, Keice García, and their two children. There, he worked as a bricklayer. He entered the U.S. in November 2023 and settled in Aurora, Colorado, where he worked a series of odd jobs, including shoveling snow and roofing. Immigration and Customs Enforcement entered his home in February, handcuffed him and told García he hadn’t registered a change in address with the federal government, she said. He had a pending asylum application when he was sent to El Salvador, according to our analysis of immigration court data. He has no tattoos, according to his mother.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Medina 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. According to García, Medina was charged with domestic violence in September after she called the police during an argument. She said he was detained, she paid his bail and he was placed on probation. He was also required to participate in an intervention program. We found no police or court records from the incident.

Little public information is available about Márquez’s life in Venezuela or how he came to the U.S. Please reach out if you have information to share.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Márquez 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.

Barreto and his partner, Franyelis Carolina Zambrano Manrique, left behind their five children — and Barreto’s sixth with a different woman — to come to the U.S., Zambrano said in an interview. They tried to enter the country twice, surrendering to authorities each time. Eventually, they settled in Salt Lake City and obtained temporary protected status, which allowed him to live and work legally in the U.S. Barreto worked in construction and in food delivery, and Zambrano was manicurist. They were both detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement during a traffic stop in February and deported to El Salvador in March. Zambrano, along with a group of other women also sent to El Salvador, was returned to the U.S. She was expelled to Venezuela in April, where she reunited with their children. Zambrano said she and Barreto were accused by ICE of being part of the Tren de Aragua gang because of their tattoos: two stars in her case, a rose and a clock in his.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Barreto as having pending criminal charges. We found records showing that, in January, he was charged with driving with no license and no insurance in West Valley City, Utah. It is unclear if he entered a plea based on the records we were able to obtain. He failed to appear at a court hearing in early February, and a judge issued a warrant for his arrest. Zambrano said he couldn’t figure out the hearing date. In addition, a Department of Homeland Security spokesperson said Barreto had told authorities he had previously been convicted of murder. We obtained Venezuelan court records confirming a murder conviction. According to the document, he was sentenced to 15 years in prison. His partner denied that he committed the crime.

Little public information is available about Depablos’ life in Venezuela or in the U.S. other than that he lived in Washington state and that he has a tattoo of rosary beads on his forearm, according to photos on his relatives’ social media accounts. It’s unclear if his tattoo played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang.

U.S. government data we obtained lists Depablos as having pending criminal charges. We found records showing that, in December 2024, he was arrested and charged with attempting to steal clothing worth approximately $350 from a Macy’s in Lynnwood, Washington. It’s unclear if he entered a plea or how the case was resolved based on the records we obtained.

Flores worked at a butcher shop and as a delivery driver in Venezuela before migrating to the U.S., his mother told us. He was detained at his December appointment with U.S. 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. He remained in federal custody until he was sent to El Salvador. It’s unclear if his tattoos, which include a crown, a rose and an image of the soccer star Lionel Messi, 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.

Albornoz lived in Peru for about four years before migrating to the U.S. with his wife in January 2024, about a year before he was detained. After crossing the border, they turned themselves in to authorities and requested asylum. A trained mechanic, Albornoz found jobs doing repairs and delivering food in Texas. His wife was nine months pregnant when he was sent to El Salvador; their son was born two weeks later. “He was so excited, buying things for the baby,” his sister told us. During his time in the Salvadoran prison, Albornoz’s wife relied on charity from a local church to support the family. Albornoz also has a 10-year-old son who struggled to attend school during his absence. Albornoz has a tattoo of a dragon on his arm; he also has one of a small crown over his heart, which he got when his son was born. It’s unclear if the tattoos played a role in the government labeling him a member of the Tren de Aragua gang. Immigration court records show he had a pending asylum application when he was deported to El Salvador.

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

Gualtero is the father of five children, according to an interview his mother gave to VTV, a state-run Venezuelan television station. Before beginning his journey north, Gualtero lived in Colombia, where he made furniture. He later moved to Mexico, where he worked in home repair. Around December 2024, he crossed the U.S.-Mexico border and turned himself in to immigration authorities, a process many immigrants follow to seek asylum. He remained in custody until he was sent to El Salvador. It’s unclear if Gualtero’s tattoos, which include a flower and ski mask, 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.

Colina migrated to the U.S. in 2023 with his partner and two children, his mother told a Venezuelan journalist on Instagram. At the time of his deportation, he lived in Texas, where he worked in construction and for a moving company. It’s unclear if his tattoos, which include a crown with the names of his mother and daughter, played a role in the government labeling him a member of the gang Tren de Aragua.

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.”