Henry Vargas Lugo (32) is originally from La Guaira, Venezuela, a coastal town near the capital. He is the oldest of three siblings in a tight knit family, according to his sister, Nayrobis Vargas. Henry’s health has always been a little fragile because of high blood pressure, so he didn’t play sports in school.
Henry graduated high school and went to college for a while, but he loved machines and was good with his hands, so he decided to become a mechanic. It was an interest he shared with his father, “they were always under the car, back when it was feasible to have cars in Venezuela,” Nayrobis remembers. “He is a calm person, family oriented, very quiet and respectful,” she added.
Henry worked as a mechanic and a security guard in Venezuela, but the economy steadily declined, and he migrated to Colombia in 2017 for better opportunities where he lived for about seven years. In Colombia, Henry and his partner had a daughter who is now four years old. “Henry had no criminal record in either Venezuela or Colombia,” Nayrobis said. He does have a lot of tattoos, “like 10 or 12,” she said, including crowns, a clock, his daughter’s name, and a rosary. “There were no problems with gangs in our area, nothing like that,” Nayrobis said.
In early 2024, Henry and his little family decided to try their luck immigrating to the US. The journey was very difficult. They were turned away from the busses. “His feet were cracked and broken because he said they wouldn't let them get on the buses. He's black, and he was completely unrecognizable from being burned in the sun,” Nayrobis said. The family jumped on trains a few times but walked most of the way to the border where they turned themselves in to authorities, after crossing in early March 2024.
“We were worried, and then he called us the next day, and said, “We're in the United States, they let us in,’” Nayrobis said. Henry and his family were sent by bus to a shelter in Denver, Colorado where they arrived on March 9th. They were allowed 45 days in the shelter in Denver, so he started working right away to save money to rent an apartment. First, he worked picking up trash, but then he started doing deliveries. The family moved to Aurora, a suburb of Denver, and worked many jobs, including Uber, snow removal, trash removal, and as a mechanic.
Henry did have a brush with the law while living in Aurora. One of his friends was picked up by immigration and had bail set. Henry wanted to pay the bail but was worried he would be arrested when he showed up to pay, since his asylum was pending and he didn’t have full legal status yet. Two women, friends of friends, agreed to take his money and pay the bail, but they ended up stealing his money. Henry’s family later learned that the woman submitted a complaint with the police about Henry, because that night, in January 20205, Henry’s apartment was raided.
“They went into the building and took everyone away. I mean, not just him, everyone. They took him to the police, they presented him to the judge, and the judge said, “Where is the person who is accusing him? What evidence is there?” My brother told me that the judge got angry and told them to leave, to take him away, that it wasn't valid, that it wasn't true,” Nayrobis said.
Despite the case being thrown out, Henry wasn’t released like many others, he was put in immigration detention. While there, Henry had a hearing in Immigration court and was told, “You're entitled to deportation or to fight for asylum.” The judge said he would have to remain incarcerated while fighting for asylum, which could take years. So Henry requested deportation.
While in detention, Henry got sick. He ran a fever and his blood pressure was really high, he told Nayrobis. On a video call she could see that “his mouth was shaking, and he looked like he was dead, his eyes were all closed.” He told her they only gave him medicine when they remembered to check on him.
Henry called Nayrobis on Friday night, March 14th, 2025, “and he said, ‘Tomorrow, if I don't call you, it’s because they deported us.” She told him they would wait for him in Venezuela, and he said, “thank goodness I'm going to Venezuela because I'm dying of fever, I'm dying of stress, I can't take it anymore,” she remembers.
Nayrobis and the rest of Henry’s family were waiting for him in Venezuela. They heard nothing on Saturday and then on Sunday, a cousin told them about the US flights to El Salvador. The family started going through the videos posted by the Bukele administration of the men arriving at CECOT prison and, in one blurry, dark photo, Nayrobis recognized her brother. After that she found him in other videos and photos, and she showed them to the rest of her family. Henry’s family also spotted him in the May 12th video published by the One America Network. “He looked very, very scared. He was yelling ‘help,’” Nayrobis said.
Nayrobis worries that "justice won't be done, I mean they're innocent people. I think they're blaming [Henry] for some tattoos, but really, why is he in that prison? Just because of racism?”
References:
Phone conversation with Nayrobis Vargas, June 4 2025
https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/immigration/article302251339.html
https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x9h3g9q
https://www.instagram.com/p/DHY-KCRMafQ/
https://www.vtv.gob.ve/tag/henry-vargas/
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DHpVJpPspjV/