FULL: Lorenzo Salgado Araujo sons' testimony at congressional field hearing

Good morning. My name is Ronaldo Salgado. And I am Lorenzo Salgado Jr. We are two of Lorenzo Salgado Araujo's sons. Thank you for the opportunity to speak with you today. Thank you to the others who are here testifying. And thank you to the community members who have joined us in grieving. Whether you knew our father or saw yourself and your loved ones in him, your support has carried us through the hardest two weeks of our lives. Our father was a humble, hardworking family man. He didn't need anybody to know his name. He worked hard to protect and provide for our family, to put me and my siblings through college. He taught us that good things come to those that work hard. Our father was also a man of many routines. His last day started like so many days during his 35 years in this country, a country that he loved. He and my mom woke up before the sun. She cooked him a big meal to carry him through the day. He said goodbye to her and to our dog, said a prayer inside his van, and was out the driveway before 6 a.m. to pick up his construction crew. Men he'd worked alongside for years. Family men who took great pride in their craft to provide for their own families. One of these men was our dear Uncle Victor Hugo. At about 7 a.m., our mom called to tell us our dad was in trouble. We suspected it involved ICE. As a family, we talked more than once about what would happen if our dad encountered ICE officers. We dreaded the call, but we were prepared. We believed there would be a process, and that no matter what happened, there would be a way for our dad to come home. I drove an hour to his work site, but no luck. But then I learned on Facebook about ICE activity near Canal and Wayside. I never imagined it was him. When I got to the intersection of Canal and Wayside, I found his van, but I didn't find him. I stayed for hours asking anyone, law enforcement, neighbors. I even asked a homeowner if I could climb on her roof to see if I can see something. I learned again from a Facebook post that our dad had been shot. Not because I could see him, but because I could hear his voice on videos posted online crying for help. Hours after the video was posted, I finally had learned that my dad had been taken to Benton Hospital, but with no signs of his condition. I waited there for hours until Congresswoman Sylvia Garcia stepped in and demanded answers. Finally, it was confirmed. My dad, Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, age 52, had died from his injuries. Over the past two weeks, we've had to grieve our father too soon and without straight answers. DHS first said ICE targeted our father, then admitted he was never their intended target at all. DHS also said he weaponized his vehicle, a claim the three men who were in the van with him have directly disputed, and one that the surveillance footage made public so far does not appear to show. None of the agents involved were wearing body cameras, so we'll never have that perspective. Now they're saying there may have been drugs in the vehicle, which anyone who knew our father would tell you is absurd. He did not use drugs. He abhorred them. And I know my father would have stopped his vehicle immediately if ICE agents had clearly identified themselves, rather than aggressively approach him in two unmarked vehicles without emergency lights on. That must have been terrifying, not knowing who was after him. We had talked about what would happen if he were to be stopped by ICE and how he would conduct himself. And he believed there would always be a way for him to come back home to us. We are not the only family living this Kafkaesque nightmare. Shortly after our father was killed, a three-year-old girl in Bidford, Maine, watched federal agents shoot and kill her father, Joan Sebastian Duran Guerrero. He too was later confirmed not to be their target. Queremos que su familia sepa, compartimos su dolor. Nadie debería enterrar un padre o un ser querido de esta manera. Our father deserves justice. Today, we are asking that you use your authority as members of Congress to help ensure that he gets it. I want to first highlight one of the members of Congress here today, Congresswoman Sylvia Garcia. When I was at Benton Hospital pacing through the hallways waiting for an answer, the Congresswoman stepped up and marched into the lobby in her powerful pink suit jacket and demanded to speak with the higher-ups to finally get the confirmation that my dad had died. I do not want any of you elected officials to have to go through what the Congresswoman did that day. How many more of our dads have to die? How many more children have to wait hopelessly for answers? How many more wives will have to suffer the loss of their life partner? I urge all of you, esteemed members of Congress and your colleagues to take action. And this is not a partisan issue. This is an issue of right and wrong. And we believe that there are many wrongs in what happened on July 7th, the day our dad died. All elected members of government have a duty to ensure the safety and well-being of their constituents. Every single member of Congress have immigrants living in your states, in your districts, in your neighborhoods. What is being done to make sure that they can live without fear? To make sure that they won't be next? It is our hope that we're not asking for too much. All we're asking is the following. First, there must be a thorough, truly independent investigation. Not one where the agency under investigation also controls the evidence and is able to unilaterally clear its own personnel of any wrongdoing. Congress should insist that federal, state, and local investigations all move forward with full federal cooperation and should demand answers on a public timeline. Second, every piece of evidence must be preserved and shared, including recorded radio traffic, agency communications, and any video or audio footage that exists, even though no agent wore a body camera that morning. We have sent our own letters demanding the preservation of evidence and we ask that you do the same. Third, the three members of our dad's work crew who were in that van, Daniel Tirado Pantoja, Jose Trinidad Rojas Pliego, and our uncle Victor Hugo Salgado, are essential witnesses to what happened to our father. They must be able to tell their stories in full without fear of being deported. They should be released from detention immediately so they can be with their families, speak with investigators, and grieve with us. Removal of these individuals and a failure to assure them of their safety would amount to nothing less than a cover-up. Finally, while we are grateful that you convened this hearing today, please don't let it be the only thing that you do for our father. Use all the tools that you have to request records, demand follow-up, hold other hearings, and enact laws, not only to help us learn the truth about what happened to our father, but to make sure this never happens again. On behalf of our family, thank you for hearing us today and for the chance to make sure our father's name is remembered for who he was. Not as a headline, but as a husband, a father, a brother, a job creator, a man who believed good things come to those who work hard and who work tirelessly to give his sons more than he had. I have a message for all of y'all out in the streets protesting and peacefully marching. Thank you. We have some requests for y'all. First, be loud in calling for justice for our dad, Lorenzo Salgado. Second, stay hydrated. Third, and most importantly, make sure that you do everything in your power to get home to your families at the end of the day. We thank you for meeting this moment with the integrity, the respect, the attention it deserves. And lastly, if you'll lend me two more minutes of your time, I want you to try, seriously try to put yourselves in my and Ronnie's shoes. I know it sounds impossible, but really I ask everyone listening or watching to close your eyes and really try. I want you in your mind to think of a loved one, your brother, your father, your cousin, a beloved co-worker, picture their face and silently say their first and last name. Picture that loved one's face pinned to the ground in pain and yelling out in desperate need of help. Picture the anger and helplessness of watching that person bleed out through a video on your phone. What would you do after? How would you cope with the feeling of losing your protector, your role model, your mother's loving partner, your grandmother's little boy? Would you also make the decision to speak in front of cameras, in front of the national media to decry the unjust way your father was taken from you like Ronnie and I have? Think. I really want you to seriously consider what you would do. You wouldn't cower and let bygones be bygones. You would surely move mountains, go hungry, without sleep, marching incessantly towards the slow beating drum of justice. That feeling you feel right now is only a fraction of what my family and I have felt these past 17 days. These past 17 days, my family has spent every waking moment, over 400 hours asking questions about our father's untimely and unnecessarily violent killing. Going forward, we will spend thousands of hours more in order to fulfill the promise we made to our grandmother at our father's wake, that justice will be done. Would you do the same?