home depot

“Thank you so much for showing up this morning,” Sharon Nicholls said into a megaphone at 8 a.m. Wednesday outside a Home Depot in Pasadena.

As of Friday afternoon, no federal agents had raided the store on East Walnut Street. But the citizen brigade that stands watch outside and patrols the parking lot in search of ICE agents has not let down its guard—especially not after raids at three other Home Depots in recent days despite federal court rulings limiting sweeps.

Steve Lopez

Steve Lopez is a California native who has been a Los Angeles Times columnist since 2001. He has won more than a dozen national journalism awards and is a four-time Pulitzer finalist.

About two dozen people gathered near the tent that serves as headquarters of the East Pasadena Community Defense Center. Another dozen or so would be arriving over the next half hour, some carrying signs.

“Silence is Violence”

“Migrants Don’t Party With Epstein”

Cynthia Lunine, 70, carried a large sign that read “Break His Dark Spell” and included a sinister image of President Trump. She said she was new to political activism, but added: “You can’t not be an activist. If you’re an American, it’s the only option. The immigration issue is absolutely inhumane, it’s un-Christian, and it’s intolerable.”

Anit-ICE activists march through the Home Depot in Pasadena on Aug. 6.

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

There are local supporters, for sure, of Trump’s immigration crackdown. Activists told me there aren’t many days in which they don’t field shouted profanities or pro-Trump cheers from Home Depot shoppers.

But the administration’s blather about a focus on violent offenders led to huge demonstrations in greater Los Angeles beginning in June, and the cause continues to draw people into the streets.

Dayena Campbell, 35, is a volunteer at Community Defense Corner operations in other parts of Pasadena, a movement that followed high-profile raids and was covered in the Colorado Boulevard newspaper and, later, in the New York Times. A fulltime student who works in sales, Campbell was also cruising the parking lot at the Home Depot on the east side of Pasadena in search of federal agents.

She thought this Home Depot needed its own Community Defense Corner, so she started one about a month ago. She and her cohort have more than once spotted agents in the area and alerted day laborers. About half have scattered, she said, and half have held firm despite the risk.

When I asked what motivated Campbell, she said:

“Inhumane, illegal kidnappings. Lack of due process. Actions taken without anyone being held accountable. Seeing people’s lives ripped apart. Seeing families being destroyed in the blink of an eye.”

Anywhere from a handful to a dozen volunteers show up daily to to hand out literature, patrol the parking lot and check in on day laborers, sometimes bringing them food. Once a week, Nicholls helps organize a rally that includes a march through the parking lot and into the store, where the protesters present a letter asking Home Depot management to “say no to ICE in their parking lot and in their store.”

Nicholls is an LAUSD teacher-librarian, and when she asks for support each week, working and retired teachers answer the call.

“I’m yelling my lungs out,” said retired teacher Mary Rose O’Leary, who joined in the chants of “ICE out of Home Depot” and “No hate, no fear, immigrants are welcome here.”

Sharon Nicholls gets a hug of support from another protester outside the Home Depot in Pasadena.

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

“Immigrants are what make this city what it is … and the path to legal immigration is closed to everybody who doesn’t have what, $5 million or something?” O’Leary said, adding that she was motivated by “the Christian ideal of welcoming the stranger.”

Retired teacher Dan Murphy speaks Spanish and regularly checks in with day laborers.

“One guy said to me, ‘We’re just here to work.’ Some of the guys were like, ‘We’re not criminals … we’re just here … to make money and get by,’” Murphy said. He called the raids a flexing of “the violent arm of what autocracy can bring,” and he resents Trump’s focus on Southern California.

“I take it personally. I’m white, but these are my people. California is my people. And it bothers me what might happen in this country if people don’t stand firm … I just said, ‘I gotta do something.’ I’m doing this now so I don’t hate myself later.”

Nicholls told me she was an activist many years ago, and then turned her focus to work and raising a family. But the combination of wildfires, the cleanup and rebuilding, and the raids, brought her out of activism retirement.

“The first people to come out after the firefighters—the second-responders—were day laborers cleaning the streets,” Nicholls said. “You’d see them in orange shirts all over the city, cleaning up.”

The East Pasadena Home Depot is “an important store,” because it’s a supply center for the rebuilding of Altadena, “and we’re going out there to show our love and solidarity for our neighbors,” Nicholls said. To strike the fear of deportation in the hearts of workers, she said, is “inhumane, and to me, it’s morally wrong.”

Nicholls had a quick response when I asked what she thinks of those who say illegal is illegal, so what’s left to discuss?

“That blocks the complexity of the conversation,” she said, and doesn’t take into account the hunger and violence that drive migration. Her husband, she said, left El Salvador 35 years ago during a war funded in part by the U.S.

Pablo Alvarado, right, co-director of National Day Laborer Organizing Network, speaks to Anti-ICE protesters on Aug. 6.

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

They have family members with legal status and some who are undocumented and afraid to leave their homes, Nicholls said. I mentioned that I had written about Pasadena Mayor Victor Gordo, who was undocumented as a child, and has kept his passport handy since the raids began. In that column, I quoted Gordo’s friend, immigrant-rights leader Pablo Alvarado, director of the National Day Laborer Organizing Network.

“Full disclosure,” Nicholls said, “[Alvarado] is my husband.”

It was news to me.

When the raids began, Nicholls said, she told her husband, “I have the summer off, sweetie, but I want to help, and I’m going to call my friends.”

On Wednesday, after Nicholls welcomed demonstrators, Alvarado showed up for a pep talk.

“I have lived in this country since 1990 … and I love it as much as I love the small village where I came from in El Salvador,” Alvarado said. “Some people may say that we are going into fascism, into authoritarianism, and I would say that we are already there.”

He offered details of a raid that morning at a Home Depot in Westlake and said the question is not whether the Pasadena store will be raided, but when. This country readily accepts the labor of immigrants but it does not respect their humanity, Alvarado said.

“When humble people are attacked,” he said, “we are here to bear witness.”

Nicholls led demonstrators through the parking lot and into the store, where she read aloud the letter asking Home Depot to take a stand against raids.

Outside, where it was hot and steamy by mid-morning, several sun-blasted day laborers said they appreciated the support. But they were still fearful, and desperate for work.

Jorge, just shy of 70, practically begged me to take his phone number.

Whatever work I might have, he said, please call.

[email protected]

Federal immigration agents raided a Home Depot in Barstow last month and arrested a man who had his 3-year-old pit bull, Chuco, with him. A friend managed to grab Chuco from the scene and bring him back to the garage where he lives. The dog’s owner was deported to Mexico the next day.

The SPAY(CE) Project, which spays and neuters dogs in underserved areas, put out a call on Instagram to help Chuco and an animal rescue group agreed to take him, but then went quiet. Meanwhile, the garage owner took Chuco to an undisclosed shelter.

After repeated attempts, SPAY(CE) co-founder Esther Ruurda said her nonprofit gave up on finding the dog or a home for him, since “no one has space for an adult male Pittie these days.” So “the poor dog is left to die in the shelter.”

Chuco, a roughly 3-year-old pit bull, whose owner was deported last month. A friend took Chuco in, but his landlord reportedly dropped the dog at a shelter and would not say which one.

(SPAY(CE) Project)

It’s not an isolated incident. Since federal immigration raids, primarily targeting Latino communities, began roiling Los Angeles in early June, animal rescues and care providers across the county are hearing desperate pleas for help.

At least 15 dogs were surrendered at L.A. County animal shelters due to deportations between June 10 and July 4, according to the county’s Department of Animal Care and Control.

Pets belonging to people who are deported or flee are being left in empty apartments, dumped into the laps of unprepared friends and dropped off at overcrowded shelters, The Times found.

“Unless people do take the initiative [and get the pets out], those animals will starve to death in those backyards or those homes,” said Yvette Berke, outreach manager for Cats at the Studios, a rescue that serves L.A.

Yet with many animal refuges operating at capacity, it can be difficult to find temporary homes where pets are not at risk of euthanasia.

Fearing arrest if they go outside, some people are also forgoing healthcare for their pets, with clinics reporting a surge in no-shows and missed appointments in communities affected by the raids.

“Pets are like the collateral damage to the current political climate,” said Jennifer Naitaki, vice president of programs and strategic initiatives at the Michelson Found Animals Foundation.

Worrying data

Cats curiously watch a visitor at the AGWC Rockin’ Rescue in Woodland Hills. Manager Fabienne Origer said the center is at capacity and these pets need to be adopted to make room for others.

With shelters and rescues stuffed to the gills, an influx of pets is “another impact to an already stressed system,” Berke said.

Dogs — large ones in particular — can be hard to find homes for, some rescues said. Data show that two county shelters have seen large jumps in dogs being surrendered by their owners.

The numbers of dogs relinquished at L.A. County’s Palmdale shelter more than doubled in June compared with June of last year, according to data obtained by The Times. At the county’s Downey shelter, the count jumped by roughly 50% over the same period.

Some of this increase could be because of a loosening of requirements for giving up a pet, said Christopher Valles with L.A. County’s animal control department. In April the department eliminated a requirement that people must make an appointment to relinquish a pet.

Rocky, a 7-year-old mixed-breed dog, has been at AGWC Rockin’ Rescue for three years.

There’s no set time limit on when an animal must be adopted to avoid euthanizing, said Valles, adding that behavior or illness can make them a candidate for being put to sleep.

And there are resources for people in the deported person’s network who are willing to take on the responsibility for their pets, like 2-year-old Mocha, a female chocolate Labrador retriever who was brought in to the county’s Baldwin Park shelter in late June and is ready for adoption.

“We stand by anybody who’s in a difficult position where they can’t care for their animal because of deportation,” Valles said.

Some rescues, however, urge people not to turn to shelters because of overcrowding and high euthanasia rates.

Rates for dogs getting put down at L.A. city shelters increased 57% in April compared with the same month the previous year, according to a recent report.

L.A. Animal Services, which oversees city shelters, did not respond to requests for comment or data.

Already at the breaking point

Fabienne Origer, manager of AGWC Rockin’ Rescue, with Gracie, a 4-week-old kitten found on Ventura Boulevard and brought to the center a week ago.

Every day, Fabienne Origer is bombarded with 10 to 20 calls asking if AGWC Rockin’ Rescue in Woodland Hills, which she manages, can take in dogs and cats. She estimates that one to two of those pleas are now related to immigration issues.

The rescue, like many others, is full.

Part of the reason is that many people adopted pets during the COVID-19 crisis — when they were stuck at home — and dumped them when the world opened back up, she said.

Skyrocketing cost of living and veterinary care expenses have also prompted people to get rid of their pet family members, several rescues said. Vet prices have surged by 60% over a decade.

L.A. Animal Services reported “critical overcrowding” in May, with more than 900 dogs in its custody.

“It’s already bad, but now on top of that, a lot of requests are because people have disappeared, because people have been deported, and if we can take a cat or two dogs,” Origer said. “It’s just ongoing, every single day.”

Wounds you can’t see

Assistant manager Antonia Schumann pets a couple of dogs at AGWC Rockin’ Rescue.

Animals suffer from the emotional strain of separation and unceremonious change when their owners vanish, experts said.

When a mother and three young daughters from Nicaragua who were pursuing asylum in the U.S. were unexpectedly deported in May following a routine hearing, they left behind their beloved senior dog.

She was taken in by the mother’s stepmom. Not long after, the small dog had to be ushered into surgery to treat a life-threatening mass.

The small dog is on the mend physically, but “is clearly depressed, barely functioning and missing her family,” the stepmother wrote in a statement provided to the Community Animal Medicine Project (CAMP), which paid for the surgery. She’s used to spending all day with the girls and sleeping with them at night, the stepmom said.

From Nicaragua, the girls have been asking to get their dog back. For now, they’re using FaceTime.

Shirley and Bruno lounge in their space at AGWC Rockin’ Rescue. They have been there for five years.

Prior to the ICE raids, 80 to 100 people often lined up for services at clinics run by the Latino Alliance for Animal Care Foundation.

Now such a line could draw attention, so the Alliance staggers appointments, according to Jose Sandoval, executive director of the Panorama City-based organization that provides education and services to Latino families.

“It’s hitting our ‘hood,” Sandoval said, “and we couldn’t just sit there and not do anything.”

Within two hours of offering free services — including vaccines and flea medication refills — to people affected by ICE raids, they received about 15 calls.

CAMP, whose staff is almost entirely people of color and Spanish speaking, is mulling reviving telehealth options and partnering to deliver baskets of urgently needed pet goods. It’s drilling staffers on what to do if immigration officers show up at the workplace.

“Humans aren’t leaving their house for themselves, so if their dog has an earache they may hesitate to go out to their vet, but animals will suffer,” said Alanna Klein, strategy and engagement officer for CAMP. “We totally understand why they’re not doing it, but [pets] are alongside humans in being impacted by this.”

CAMP has seen a 20%-30% increase in missed appointments since the first week of June, for everything from spay and neuter to wellness exams to surgical procedures. After a video of an ICE raid at a car dealership near CAMP’s clinic in Mission Hills circulated in mid-June, they had 20 no-shows — highly unusual.

“We’re forced to operate under the extreme pressure and in the midst of this collective trauma,” said Zoey Knittel, executive director of CAMP, “but we’ll continue doing it because we believe healthcare should be accessible to all dogs and cats, regardless of their family, socioeconomic or immigration status.”

Hundreds of eighth-graders in freshly ironed button-down shirts and flowing dresses filed into Andrew Carnegie Middle School with their families Tuesday morning in high spirits.

But the graduation festivities at the school in Carson had an ominous undertone, as word had spread ahead of the event that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement might make an unwanted appearance.

Nervous parents and educators browsed apps dedicated to tracking ICE activity, refreshed their social media feeds and conferred with one another about the latest rumors. Some students who had been expected to attend the event did not come to the stage when their names were called. They had chosen to stay home out of fear that they or their loved ones would be detained.

Similar scenes have played out repeatedly across Los Angeles County in recent days, with the Trump administration deploying swarms of federal agents to detain immigrants.

Jacob Johnson, left, walks with his family after graduating as valedictorian from Andrew Carnegie Middle School in Carson on Tuesday. The arrival time for graduates and their family was moved up at the school to avoid potential confrontations with ICE.

In neighborhoods with large populations of foreign-born people across the region, every commute, trip to the grocery store or school drop-off has come to represent another potential final moment in lives built in this country.

In the span of just a few hours Tuesday, unverified messages posted online rapidly spread warnings about ICE agents being spotted near schools, hotels and hardware stores, leading to panic and disruption.

At Carnegie, the prospect of a raid was all anyone could talk about.

The school had sent out a message ahead of the event informing parents and students that “all guests will be admitted onto campus immediately — no waiting outside — due to ongoing concerns in our community related to the Department of Homeland Security (ICE).”

Mekeisha Madden Toby, 48, was there Tuesday morning to celebrate the graduation of her 14-year-old daughter, Zoe.

“It’s bittersweet because it’s supposed to be a celebration moment and it kind of got overshadowed by fear,” the mother said. “Your friend or your friend’s abuela could get snatched. You have to be aware, and you can’t even fully celebrate a graduation without thinking about it.”

“It’s not fair for these kids to put all this time and effort into school only to have to be concerned about their safety,” said Gardena High School junior Chris Alvarez, left, next to his cousin, Gardena High School graduate Anthony Garcia, 18, in Gardena on Tuesday.

Federal agents — often in plainclothes and unmarked vehicles — have raided L.A. County businesses, homes and even an underground nightclub in recent weeks, detaining scores of people in the process, including children.

Earlier this month, ICE detained a Torrance Elementary School fourth-grader, who was transferred to an immigration facility in Texas. Federal officials have since deported the 9-year-old and his father to Honduras.

Multiple recent incidents captured on video showed ICE agents in L.A. County confronting people on the streets — seemingly at random in some cases — and quickly whisking them away, offering no explanation to shocked loved ones and onlookers. Footage reviewed by The Times showed a Sunday raid in which unidentified law enforcement agents detained a fruit vendor in Westchester.

“They had him pressed down on the ground, they had weapons drawn so no one could get near to help him. It just looked like he had been kidnapped,” said witness Yuliza Barraza, 45. “Everyone was in shock and awe.”

White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said during a press briefing Wednesday that 330 people had been arrested since Friday in the immigration sweeps in ICE’s Los Angeles Area of Responsibility, which stretches from San Luis Obispo to San Diego.

ICE shared photos on social media Tuesday showing armed members of the military accompanying immigration agents on L.A. raids. In recent days, Trump announced that he was sending a total of 700 U.S. Marines and 4,000 National Guard troops to L.A. to respond to protests and support federal operations.

Gov. Gavin Newsom and L.A. Mayor Karen Bass have demanded a detente, but to no avail. Bass called on Trump to “stop the raids” during a news conference Tuesday.

“We never know when, we never know how long” they will be, she said. “But that very notion creates such a terrible sense of fear in our city, and it’s just not right to do that to a population who’s trying to survive.”

Two Times journalists spent most of the day criss-crossing L.A. County’s southern reaches to document the disruption and trauma caused by the omnipresent specter of ICE. Following alerts shared on an assortment of online platforms, the journalists visited communities with significant foreign-born populations, such as Carson, Torrance, Gardena, Compton, Bell Gardens, and Long Beach, and nearby neighborhoods in the city of L.A.

Many people were on edge, even U.S. citizens not at risk of being deported. At a care facility for disabled adults in Torrance, one staffer — who declined to give her name out of fear of retaliation — said she had not seen an alert about a reported ICE sighting outside the facility that had been posted on Ice Block, one of the apps that circulates user-generated reports of federal actions.

But she said in a half-whisper that a friend had spotted U.S. Customs and Border Protection agents on a residential street a few blocks away. It was unclear whether anyone had been detained in the area.

“It’s so scary what they’re doing,” she said.

Angelica Salas, executive director of the Coalition for Human Rights of Los Angeles characterized the sweeps as an unprecedented “enforcement blitz” in which people are being “indiscriminately” targeted. Her organization, she said, has received 3,000 calls for service since Thursday.

In Signal Hill, the mood among a handful of day laborers who were posted up on a patch of grass near a Home Depot on Tuesday afternoon was jovial and almost defiant.

“I’m not worried,” one of the men said as pickup trucks laden with heavy lumber rumbled past. But he declined to give his name, not wanting to risk immigration agents tracking him down.

Andrew Carnegie Middle’s graduation in Carson ultimately went off without any interruptions by law enforcement. But attendees said they were asked at the last minute to show up at 7:30 a.m. instead of the previously planned 8:00 a.m. in an effort to avoid confrontations with ICE outside the school.

“They changed the graduation time because they were worried about people getting snatched up and taken,” said Zoe Toby, who wore a black Class of 2025 sash and blue lei over her gray-blue dress to celebrate her final day at Carnegie. “It’s scary because you never know when it’s going to happen.”

During the ceremony, some parents received notifications via the Ice Block app and social media warning that immigration enforcement officers were seen near the school. There was no confirmation of anyone being detained.

Zoe said some of her friends worry every day about being taken away by federal agents. Many of them have received red cards from the school explaining their rights, she added, pulling a picture up on her phone of one of the many posters emblazoned with the words “This classroom is a safe space for immigrants” that she said have been posted on the middle school’s walls.

“I’m on the Nextdoor app,” Zoe’s mother added, “and every day there’s neighbors warning each other” about ICE activity.

Gardena police officers keep a watchful eye out as Gardena High School graduates mingle with family and friends on Tuesday.

Later Tuesday, hundreds of teenagers in caps and gowns spilled out onto the street next to Gardena High School to revel in their first moments as high school graduates. Like in Carson, people were smiling and embracing one another as roadside vendors sold snacks and flower bouquets.

Chris Alvarez, a junior, was there to celebrate his 18-year-old cousin Anthony Garcia’s graduation. In between jokes with his friends and relatives, Chris, 17, said he’s “not really worried” about ICE, but he was dismayed by online warnings that agents had been spotted near his school earlier Tuesday.

“It’s not fair for these kids to put all this time and effort into school only to have to be concerned about their safety and the safety of their family and their friends,” he said. “This should be a celebration.”

For Orlando Johnson, principal of Susan Miller Dorsey Senior High School in South Los Angeles, safety is paramount amid the ongoing threat posed by the immigration crackdown.

“The focus is just on protecting our families and protecting our students. We don’t know what information’s real and not real,” he said Tuesday. “I think everybody’s concerned.”

Times staff writers Andrea Castillo and Rachel Uranga and L.A. Times Studio senior producer Karen Foshay contributed to this report.