Venezuelans deported from the U.S. were killed hours later in powerful quakes

Venezuela Deportees: U.S. Quakes Claim Lives Hours After Return

Venezuelans deported from the U S were - Four years ago, Georgelyss Montes last saw her close friend Angelo Mejía Meléndez at a farewell gathering before he departed for the United States. Their parting was filled with laughter, as Montes quipped, “You’re crazy for leaving us!” The moment felt like a lighthearted farewell, far from the tragedy that would soon unfold.

“You’re crazy for leaving us!”

When news arrived that Mejía Meléndez had returned to Venezuela as a deportee, Montes was stunned. He was among 146 Venezuelans who had been sent back to their homeland on Wednesday, a day that had already begun with a sense of hope. However, that hope turned to despair within hours, as a severe earthquake struck the city of Caracas, devastating the location where the deportees were being processed.

Mejía Meléndez, who had built a life in Miami—working at a pier and thriving near the ocean—was expected to reunite with his family. His final message to his mother, recorded in a voice note, reflected his optimism. “I love you so much—like if I were to be reborn, I’d still want you as my mother,” he said. The call was brief but meaningful, as he shared plans to live together in Venezuela and continue their journey forward.

Minutes after the quake, the building where the deportees were staying collapsed, trapping many inside. Families who had gathered to celebrate their loved ones’ return now found themselves in a frantic search for survivors. One family managed to identify Mejía Meléndez’s body by a unique pizza tattoo on his arm, a detail that became a haunting reminder of his final moments.

The Earthquake Tragedy

As the deportees were processed in a secure facility in La Guaira, a series of violent twin quakes hit, causing chaos. The impact was immediate, with reports of people screaming and fleeing the structure. The collapse left no time for escape, and the fate of many remained uncertain. Alonso Guanipa Toyo, whose brother Víctor was among the 146 deportees, described the scene with anguish. “The government is not doing anything,” he said, emphasizing the lack of urgency from authorities.

Víctor, a construction worker by day and rideshare driver by night, had been living in Pecos, Texas, for nearly five years. He had no criminal record and was in the U.S. legally, according to his family. Yet, on June 12, he was detained by immigration officers while heading to work. His wife was present at the time, but neither could have anticipated the devastation that awaited them mere hours later.

Guanipa Toyo recounted his efforts to locate Víctor after the quake. “I checked the building’s records as soon as I heard the news,” he said. Despite the initial confusion, he believed some deportees might still be alive beneath the rubble. “If there’s no body, there’s no death,” he argued, a sentiment shared by many families desperate for answers.

Families in Search of Answers

The exact number of survivors remains unclear, with conflicting reports emerging from the Venezuelan agency overseeing the deportees. While they claimed to have informed families about the status of their loved ones, some questioned the accuracy of those updates. For Oswadeliz Nuñez, whose son Daniel Núñez was also among the deportees, the lack of transparency fueled her frustration.

“Venezuelans are not animals,” Nuñez said. “They are humans, not criminals. My son paid taxes.”

Nuñez shared that Daniel, who had lived in Jacksonville, Florida, for almost five years, was working in construction. His only charges were for crossing the border illegally and a minor traffic violation. On May 20, he was arrested by immigration authorities as he made his way to work. Just days later, he was deported and then caught in the earthquake’s path.

“I talked to him on the phone before the quake,” Nuñez recalled. “He told me he had landed in Venezuela and was being processed. In those four minutes, he shared so much—plans to live together, dreams of a better future. That happiness lasted only 30 minutes.”

As the days passed, Nuñez’s strength waned. “I don’t have any more strength,” she said, speaking nearly a week after the disaster. Her plea was simple yet urgent: “We need help getting their bodies from under the rubble. We need their bodies.”

Broader Implications of the Deportation Wave

The tragedy has sparked questions about the consequences of the Trump administration’s deportation policies. With nearly 146 Venezuelans sent back to their country in a single flight, the focus has shifted from their individual stories to the broader impact of this mass return. The Department of Homeland Security has yet to provide a clear statement on whether the policy will continue post-earthquakes.

For families like those of Mejía Meléndez and Víctor Guanipa Toyo, the events have turned their lives upside down. The loss of a loved one in the U.S. was already a painful experience, but the earthquake added a layer of devastation that is hard to comprehend. “It’s so hard,” Montes said, reflecting on the suddenness of her friend’s death.

As the search for survivors continues, the emotional toll on these families grows. Some are still waiting for news of their relatives, while others have lost hope. The collapse of the hotel in La Guaira has become a symbol of the unintended consequences of deportation, where the journey back home was met with disaster.

Amid the grief, there is a determination to find closure. Families are combing through hospitals and morgues, hoping to identify any remaining bodies. The pizza tattoo on Mejía Meléndez’s arm, once a marker of his joy, now serves as a grim reminder of his fate. For others, the search is still ongoing, with relatives like Víctor Guanipa Toyo persistently checking databases and shelters for any sign of life.

As the dust settles, the tragedy underscores the vulnerability of those who were displaced by political and economic turmoil. The earthquake, a natural force, became a catalyst for a new chapter of sorrow, one that challenges the perception of Venezuelans as mere subjects of policy. For now, the focus remains on the families left to mourn, as they navigate the aftermath of a journey that ended in devastation.