March 14 was the last day Yurliana Chacín spoke with her brother, John William Chacín — a tattoo artist whose tattoos apparently targeted him as a gang member and had him sent to El Salvador.
“I’m scared they will send me somewhere else,” he told her.
On March 15, 261 people were deported to El Salvador, including 137 under the 18th-century Alien Enemies Act, a wartime law invoked by President Donald Trump to target suspected members of Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua. Families, however, claim many of those deported have no proven ties to the gang.
John William Chacín, a 35-year-old Venezuelan father of two and tattoo artist for 15 years, was among those deported. His sister believes he was targeted solely because of his tattoos.
Yurliana said her brother entered the U.S. using the CBP One app, presenting himself at the Chaparral port in San Diego on Oct. 8, 2024. He was detained for a week, then transferred to a larger detention center for further investigation into his background due to the number of tattoos he had.
Yurliana, who is married and has two kids, works as a salesperson in Dallas. She hoped his brother could reunite with her and the rest of the family after being separated for years due to previous migration processes in other countries.
“I could communicate twice a day with him through an app (while detained),” Yurliana said. “He wanted to wait there because his main goal was to be with us, his family.”
After three months, a judge cleared his release, but they were told they had to wait for the prosecutor to finalize a release date, a date that never came.
“They kept him for six months in total, three more months than expected,” said Yurliana. “The immigration agent said it was about time because of the lack of a criminal record he presented.”
On March 9, John was notified he would be deported.
“He called me crying because he still had hope to see us, but at the same time. he felt relief that his time detained was coming to an end,” Yurliana explained. “I offered my help to start again in Venezuela. I was always monitoring the situation with my brother.”
John was transferred to a prison in Laredo, Texas. He described being surrounded by a more secluded, dangerous group of people.
“On March 14, I received that call, and he was very scared. However, he knew he was getting deported soon,” said Yurliana. “I told him, ‘Call me when you get to Venezuela,’ and that was the last time I spoke with him.”
After the call, she checked the ICE app, where his case was updated to “freed.” She was hopeful, believing he was on his way home.
“On Sunday [March 15], I saw the news that some planes with deportees were sent to El Salvador. I started to investigate,” she said.
Following Trump’s designation of Tren de Aragua as a terrorist organization, El Salvador’s President Nayib Bukele agreed to accept deported migrants, suspecting ties to the gang and placing them in high-security prisons. U.S. District Judge James Boasberg revoked the deportation flights under the Alien Enemies Act minutes after they took off — but the flights continued.
Yurliana recognized her brother in news reports from El Salvador.
“I was able to identify my brother through all the news reports going around, thanks to a tattoo he has on his shoulder, the way he was sitting, and a pair of glasses he was wearing,” she said. “I truly had faith that he was going to get out of there and start a new life from scratch. But it turns out that now his life has been ruined, his dream cut short.”
Yurliana was devastated, seeing her brother imprisoned alongside violent gang members in one of the largest, most high-security prisons in the region.
“He has never had any contact with or trouble involving any gang — he doesn’t belong to any of the groups they’re accusing him of being part of,” she said.
Five days later, CBS released the list of deportees sent to El Salvador. Yurliana found her brother’s name.
“He is number 32 on that list,” she said through tears.
Now, the Chacín family is searching for answers. Lawyers say those deported to El Salvador are stuck in legal limbo due to the absence of an open case in either El Salvador or the U.S.
The family has turned to social media for help, stating that John William is essentially being held hostage without an open legal case.
“The desperation and anguish we feel are overwhelming, and I’m asking that they please review my brother’s record, and I know the same goes for many other people who ended up there innocently,” Yurliana pleaded.
