13/10/2025
Chicago ICE crackdown's first casualty, a father of two, had built a quiet life in the US
CHICAGO/MEXICO CITY, Oct 11 (Reuters) - When Silverio Villegas Gonzalez was 12 minutes late for his shift at Tom & Jerry's Gyros, a diner on Chicago's northwest side, his manager knew something was wrong. The short order cook always let someone know if he was running late, even by just 5 minutes.
Earlier that morning, Villegas Gonzalez, 38, had been fatally shot by a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent shortly after dropping his children off at a school and daycare in the suburb of Franklin Park. The agents were attempting to arrest him as part of a massive immigration sweep launched by U.S. President Donald Trump. Villegas Gonzalez was the Chicago crackdown's first casualty.
The Department of Homeland Security said in a statement after the Sept. 12 incident that Villegas Gonzalez was “a criminal illegal alien” with “a history of reckless driving” who steered his car at agents, causing one to fear for his life and fire his weapon, killing Villegas Gonzalez.
DHS told Reuters on Friday that they would conduct their own investigation into the incident after the first agency that responded had finished its review. Both Franklin Park police and the FBI responded to the shooting incident, but it wasn't clear which agency was investigating.
The FBI declined to comment citing a lack of staff to respond to media inquiries due to the government shutdown. Franklin Park police did not respond to Reuters' request for comment.
Reuters interviews with family and coworkers, and a review of public records, present a more nuanced picture of a man who left his quiet village years ago for economic opportunity and worked long hours to support his children. A man who had gotten sober after heavy drinking resulted in liver disease, and who had become one woman's steadfast partner.
"He was so soft-spoken," said Ashley Alekna, manager of the diner, describing him as a kind, dependable presence during his 11-hour shifts in a kitchen full of boisterous personalities, making food for the crowds that spilled in from the community college across the street.
Villegas Gonzalez made a similar impression on Blanca Mora, his partner, when they were growing up in Irimbo, a small town in Michoacán, Mexico.
Mora says they were in their early teens when they started greeting each other around town, meeting to chat on the corner near her grandparents' house.
People often leave Irimbo for opportunities beyond the tiny town, including Villegas Gonzalez's older brother, Jorge.
Jorge, who first went to the U.S. in 1998, remembers his little brother watching him walk away.
“He was a kid,” said Jorge. “He hid so I wouldn’t see him crying.”
FATHER OF TWO
In 2007, Silverio followed his brother north, part of a wave of more than 348,000 Mexican emigrants to the U.S. that year, U.S. Census data showed, as President Felipe Calderon's violent war against drug cartels deepened.
Villegas Gonzalez found employment in the restaurant kitchens where, according to recent National Restaurant Association data, 46% of the nation's chefs and 31% of its cooks are foreign-born.
He met a woman, and they had two sons. Jorge Villegas Gonzalez said his younger brother often struggled to cover the bills.