This month my father and I drove to the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services office in Centennial, Colo., for a routine visit. I offered to drive because my dad was too nervous and excited to take the wheel. “How long have we waited for this day?” he asked me. He had been told to come in for a final interview before he could get approved for legal permanent residency.
But the meeting turned into a nightmare. Several hours after we arrived, I found myself alone, in disbelief. My dad had been detained and was facing deportation proceedings…
Read more in The New York Times.