‘This Could Have Been Anyone’: How a Fatal ICE Shooting Impacted Franklin Park Residents

Flowers, candles and bottles of beer accumulate at a makeshift memorial on Grand Avenue in Franklin Park — a suburb just outside of Chicago.

On an afternoon in late September, a man leaves a rose, two women comfort each other while crying and dozens of cars briefly pull over to stand before a photo of Silverio Villegas-Gonzalez.

When an ICE agent fatally shot the 38-year-old father last month after dropping off his children at day care, some residents were left with the same thought: “This could have been me.”

Since President Donald Trump launched “Operation Midway Blitz,” Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents have carried out raids across Chicago and nearby suburbs. Communities have been on edge, navigating life as  federal agents racially profile individuals and use military tactics to arrest and detain immigrants. The ICE shooting of Villegas-Gonzalez has left the community grappling with how one moment of violence by the federal government changed their sense of safety.

“I don’t know how you can judge a person by their appearance,” said Stephen Dawson, a Franklin Park resident, while recently visiting the vigil. “It’s just a sad situation.”

What happened on Grand Avenue

In his second term as president, Trump has implemented sweeping changes to immigration policy, including efforts to end birthright citizenship, enact new visa restrictions and revoke legal status for refugees and asylum seekers.

On the ground, immigration agents have swept through cities to arrest and detain immigrants across the country. At least three people have died after an encounter with ICE, including Villegas-Gonzalez, and at least 15 people have died while in ICE custody, the New York Times reported. 

Now, his administration has turned its attention to Chicago and Illinois. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has conducted more than 800 arrests across Illinois during “Operation Midway Blitz,” according to the agency.

Weeks after the operation’s launch, two immigration agents pulled over Villegas-Gonzalez in Franklin Park. During the brief encounter, one of the officers shot and killed the 38-year-old and the car crashed into a truck.

After the shooting, DHS claimed the shooting was self-defense, saying the officer feared for his own life and sustained “serious injury” during the stop. However, Franklin Park Police body camera footage shows the agents saying his injuries were “nothing major” — contradicting DHS’s account of the shooting.

The agency said Villegas-Gonzalez was in the country “illegally” and that he had a “history of reckless driving.” Reuters reported that he did not have a criminal record and only had traffic offense citations from 2011 to 2019.

At a nearby auto repair shop, Jose Pedro de Blase first thought the commotion outside was another car accident.

“Car crashes happen here once or twice a month, so I’m used to it,” he said. However, the heavy police presence made it clear that it wasn’t a typical accident.

Later that day, he kept the shop open late to share security footage with Villegas-Gonzalez’s family.

“It’s completely devastating, the way he lost his life. It’s not fair,” said Jorge Villegas-Gonzalez, Villegas-Gonzalez’ brother, in an interview with Telemundo Chicago.

Villegas-Gonzalez’s body was transferred to Michoacan, Mexico, where he was buried in late September.

The Cook County Medical Examiner’s office ruled Villegas-Gonzalez’s death a homicide from multiple gunshot wounds.

The Franklin Park shooting — and ICE’s military-style tactics across Chicago and in suburban Broadview — have prompted backlash, protests, and calls for an investigation.

Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum called for an investigation into the fatal shooting. The Federal Bureau of Investigation(FBI) told Borderless Magazine agents responded to the scene to assist law enforcement, but that DHS is leading the investigation into the incident at this time.

A community reeling from a deadly shooting

In the wake of the shooting, District 84 issued a statement acknowledging the tragic loss to the school community.

“Our grief is compounded by the knowledge that the individual who lost his life is the father of one of our students,” the district said.

On the day of the shooting, three schools near the scene went into lockdown for approximately 50 minutes, but instruction continued as usual, according to a message the Franklin Park School District 84 sent to families that evening.

The following week, the Board of Education issued a statement acknowledging the incident as “a tragedy that hits close to home not simply because of its proximity to our schools, but more so because of our shared humanity and collective belief that one’s race, ethnicity, religion, gender identity, or immigration status does not define one’s value as a human being.”

District Superintendent David Katzin said mental health professionals are available for both students and staff emotionally affected by this tragic event, and that ICE is not allowed into the buildings without a judicial warrant.

The news of the fatal shooting was tough and shocking to hear for Stephen Dawson and his wife, Tammi, both lifelong Franklin Park residents. For Tammi, the way Franklin Park residents have come together online after the shooting has been a source of reassurance.

She and Stephen visited the vigil left on Grand in honor of Villegas-Gonzalez, days after the shooting. There, the Dawsons met with their son, daughter-in-law and grandchild to pay their respects to a man they had never met.

“Because we are in such a diverse community, it could be anybody,” Dawson said. “It could be people we know.”

About a third of Franklin Park is foreign-born, with the languages most spoken at home being Spanish, English and Slavic. Today, the majority of its residents are Hispanic or Latino, but decades ago, Polish, Italian and Slavic residents filled the schools and worked at nearby factories.

“Franklin Park is a melting pot,” said Stephen, a retired local school board member. “The amazing thing to me is so many countries that are represented in our grade schools — South America, Central America, Mexico, Eastern Europe. You name it.”

‘It could happen to anyone.’

Just a few blocks away, the vigil sits in a loop of townhouses: candles, flowers, posters decorate a photo of Villegas-Gonzalez with his children. It sits across the home of Carlos Cortes, who said he wasn’t home during the shooting but has shared his own security video with police and media.

Like many businesses near the site, including the child care center where Villegas-Gonzalez had just dropped off his child, shops have since been inundated with media requests. Several residents and workers in the area told Borderless they’d been asked daily for footage or comment. Some said they’ve stopped answering altogether.

Down the street from Cortes, Elizabeth Diaz and Yadira Nevarez found out about the shooting on the day of the incident while working at a local bank after a client asked over the phone if they had heard anything. They opened up TikTok to confirm the news. Some clients missed their appointments that day and business slowed down for a few days following the incident, they said.

“For us, Fridays are high-traffic; there are many people,” said Diaz. “I think because of fear, people didn’t show up all day.”

Diaz and Nevarez consoled each other during an emotional visit to the vigil after work, a few days after the shooting.

For them and others in Franklin Park, the vigil is not only about honoring Villegas-Gonzalez but about confronting a larger fear about continued ICE presence in Chicago.

“It is sad because it could happen to anyone,” said Nevarez, standing before the vigil.

Aydali Campa es miembro del equipo de Report for America y cubre temas de justicia medioambiental y comunidades inmigrantes para Borderless Magazine. Envíele un correo electrónico a [email protected].