When videos emerged of immigrant men running from federal immigration agents last fall, Patricia Gamboa was flooded with memories of fleeing agents herself as a little girl.
Gamboa was 6 when she and her family crossed the border from Tijuana into California in the mid-1980s, guided by a “coyote” who warned them to run if they saw “La Migra.” She remembers immigration agents showing up and hiding from them in a ditch, where she fell asleep. Her family continued their journey and eventually found their way to Chicago.
Gamboa, 49, is now a U.S. citizen living in Oak Brook. She was shocked to see immigrants running for their lives amid Operation Midway Blitz, President Trump’s aggressive deportation campaign, last October. She felt the best way to help families afraid to leave their homes was by delivering food and supplies to their doors. The need was so great that she felt inspired to start a nonprofit that would continue to support them.
With her younger self in mind, she launched Mano a Mano Unidos, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting immigrants and families in need.
“That experience of fear, but also of success because we didn’t get captured, that’s why I wanted to help people,” Gamboa said. “I wanted to help because I know the fear of what it is to be undocumented.”
The organization, now headquartered in her office in suburban Berwyn, has grown to about 40 volunteers who donate their time to help families with anything from grocery runs to rides to doctor appointments. They also accept donations to help families pay medical bills, rent or moving fees.
Mano a Mano is more than just a pantry or delivery service, she said. It’s lending a helping hand.
‘They could trust me’
During the blitz, hundreds of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Border Patrol agents flooded the area, stopping people of color on their way to work, raiding homes and making thousands of arrests. The immigration enforcement campaign left hundreds of immigrant families afraid to leave their homes for fear of deportation.
“People were so afraid of leaving that they were starving inside their homes,” Gamboa said.
So she began asking friends on social media to donate food and personally delivered it to families in need. Protecting those families was always on her mind. She kept track of deliveries on sheets of paper, but with limited information to protect their identities. She said she never even met some of the families in person, choosing to limit contact to whatever made them feel most comfortable.
Eventually word began to spread among the immigrant communities across the South and Southwest sides of the city and in suburbs like Berwyn and Cicero. Gamboa said she was making deliveries to 40 to 50 homes a day at the height of the immigration campaign, sometimes working until the early morning.
“Families started letting other families know they could trust me,” said Gamboa.
At first, Gamboa managed the deliveries herself. Two months later, she began recruiting volunteers to deliver groceries to families. In December, Mano a Mano Unidos received its 501(c)(3) status and became an officially recognized nonprofit organization. (Gamboa’s organization is not affiliated with the similary named Mano a Mano, a Round Lake-based nonprofit that also supports immigrant families.)
Gamboa has helped more than 800 families since October and still makes regular deliveries to over 100, she said. The organization makes about 20 deliveries a day.
She even made it her mission to help immigrants in Minneapolis during Operation Metro Surge, where 3,000 federal agents flooded neighborhoods, leading to arrests, mass protests and the shooting deaths of two U.S. citizens, Renee Good and Alex Pretti, who were killed by federal officers in separate incidents.
“One day I woke up and I said, ‘I have to go over there,’” said Gamboa. “I didn’t know people. People didn’t know me, but I had to bring help to them.”
Gamboa said she loaded up her car with food and supplies and made the journey of six-plus hours by herself. She connected with a community group there and said her car was emptied out by the end of the day.
She made the trip two more times after that.
A family on lockdown
Rolando Soto and his family were among the many whom Gamboa helped.
Soto, who works as a handyman and taco vendor, stayed home for four months last fall out of fear that federal immigration agents would detain him. He and his wife stopped working, and his daughter switched to virtual learning after losing her ride to school.
The nights felt long, he said, but the days felt even longer. The farthest he would venture out was into his back yard.
“I’ve never been in trouble, and I don’t have a criminal record, but simply being undocumented was the problem,” said Soto. “ICE was grabbing people just for looking Hispanic.”
Soto, of Cicero, said he used his savings to pay for food deliveries and bills, but after coming across one of Gamboa’s social media posts, he reached out for help. Gamboa answered that same day and within hours had dropped off food at his and his in-laws’ home.
During those months, Gamboa regularly checked in and offered help with whatever Soto and his family needed.
“She helps out of the kindness of her heart, not because she expects anything in return,” Soto said.
He said he still hesitates to leave home, checking his security cameras before stepping outside and remaining wary of unfamiliar vehicles in the neighborhood.
“It’s hard not to panic and worry,” he said.
But now that he’s back to work, Soto no longer needs help from the organization. Instead, he’s offered his time to help Gamboa as a way of giving back.
Hoping to expand
Though immigration enforcement appears to have slowed down in the Chicago area, the need hasn’t.
Gamboa, who works in real estate, transformed her office in Berwyn into Mano a Mano’s base of operations. Bookshelves that once held office materials are now stocked with dry goods, diapers, clothes and shoes. The space has become a community hub where people can drop off donations and where families willing to leave their homes can pick up essential items.
While some immigrants are still afraid to stay out for long, many have returned to work and are trying to recover financially after spending months unable to leave their homes or earn an income. Gamboa said families with a relative who was detained or deported are now burdened by debt from legal fees.
Gamboa’s help has also now extended to single mothers affected by cuts to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program. She said she now helps seniors and several mothers with young children with baby formula, diapers, wipes and other items they may need.
“The rules changed, and some moms no longer qualify for the same amount of money that they were getting, and they’re falling behind,” Gamboa said. “They don’t have enough for their diapers or formula to feed their babies.”
About 400,000 Illinois residents could lose SNAP benefits, formerly known as food stamps, by May 1 under new work requirements, state officials warned earlier this year. The changes are part of President Donald Trump’s tax and spending plan approved by Congress last summer. Nearly 2 million Illinois residents are enrolled in the program.
Gamboa said she hopes Mano a Mano Unidos will continue to grow and eventually expand to other cities.
“People should feel safe in their homes and no one should have to go hungry,” she said.