A poster of Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero, the man killed by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, is displayed at a memorial in Biddeford, Maine.Robert F. Bukaty/AP
The day after hundreds of locals poured into the streets of Biddeford, Maine in protest of ICE’s killing of 25-year-old Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero on Monday, I drove through the former mill town. It seemed eerily still, as if in shock. When the horrors of Minneapolis and Houston come to your small corner of New England, what can you do?
In Mechanics Park in Biddeford, a small but diligent group presented one answer: you keep showing up.
“When I woke up this morning, I knew that this was the place I should go right to,” said Wayne Miller, 71, a retired pilot of 35 years and resident of Beverly, Massachusetts. “This is my backyard. This is my neighborhood.”
He paused, then started to cry. “I’m ashamed of my country. I love the country. I’m ashamed.”
Miller was standing with a sign that read “Dissent while you still can” at the corner of Mechanics Park in Biddeford, where the protest and vigil for Durán had been held the day before. A nearby chain-link fence served as a memorial, lined with flowers, signs, and letters of grief and apology for Durán and his family. One read, “3-year-olds should be watching Bluey, not their fathers being executed.” Above a “No Trespassing” sign, someone had placed another: “Biddeford was built by immigrants.”
I spoke with Miller and others who had come out on Tuesday to continue expressing their grief for their neighbor, the second person killed by federal agents in less than a week.
“It’s one thing to see a news story from a distance,” said Tessa, 28, a waitress and resident of Biddeford. “But watching it happen close to home, it really recontextualizes the safety that you feel walking around in your neighborhood.”
For Linda Henry, 67, a retired firefighter and Gloucester, Massachusetts resident, it was only a matter of time. “I know that it doesn’t matter where you live. It’s going to happen, you know. ICE is going to come.”
“I’m ashamed of my country. I love the country. I’m ashamed.”
Durán was a Colombian citizen who lived in Biddeford, Maine with his partner and 3-year-old daughter. He is one of at least nine people killed by federal immigration agents since the start of Donald Trump’s second term. Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin claims Durán “weaponized” his vehicle during a traffic stop. But similar claims by DHS have quickly fallen apart after video footage of shootings has come to light.
Reports say that not only was Durán authorized to legally work in the US, but he wasn’t the target of ICE’s operations that day.
Katie, a 48-year-old educator from New Hampshire, shared her anger. “A gun is not a license to kill. These agents have no business drawing their guns,” she said. “They aren’t judge, jury, and executioner, and they don’t have the right to be killing people the way that they are.”
“We were taught from the time we were little, ‘liberty and justice for all.’ We were taught that the United States was a place for everyone, and the current regime has changed that,” Katie continued.
Most of the protesters were standing with signs on the sidewalk along the adjacent intersection, shouting “ICE OUT” while passing cars honked. Near the memorial, a man on a bike caught my eye. He was off to the side, alone, quietly reading the letters addressed to Durán.
He introduced himself as Diego, 30, a restaurant worker and Biddeford resident. “I knew the guy. He was always around,” he said. “I was working and I was about to cry, to be honest. Because it’s injustice, you know? I’m an immigrant, and this country was built for immigrants.”
“We work, we pay taxes. We also need rights, as everybody does,” he said. “It’s not about left or right. It’s not about a political party. It’s about human rights.”
He told me that while he’s never felt disrespected by his neighbors and the people of Biddeford are good, the government is not the same. He said he feels unsafe and his community of immigrants feels like it’s hiding.
“How many need to die for us to understand?” Diego said. “He’d got a kid, a little daughter. And that’s the most devastating. Because, you know, if I do something wrong, I can say ‘I’m sorry, I apologize.’ But he’s dead. There’s no apology that can bring him back, you know? He’s dead. I can’t even believe it, I can’t even believe this is happening.”
When I asked Diego why he had stopped on his bike, he said out of solidarity—for Durán, for his partner and daughter. And when I asked what he would say to his community, he said, “Thank you for all the solidarity of people. Thank you for all the understanding. And I hope we can stop the violence.”
