Photo by EPA | Words by Jazmin Zayuri Gonzalez
My father went missing in October of 2015. When I found out I tried to remain calm and collected, but deep down I feared the worst. He traveled to Texas for work, but never arrived at his destination. With said situation at bay all I wanted to do was cry, but what I needed to do was to find my father. I channeled the strength he taught me and exhausted all resources to find him. I filed a missing person report while my mother and sister wept uncontrollably behind me. I plastered his image throughout the city and all my social media platforms. I even had a family friend drive to Texas just to post flyers along various routes. I called every hospital, jail, and morgue, from California to Texas to no avail. I called ICE and they too told me he was not in their custody.