How SoCal car washes are learning to operate in the Trump era

Mario remembers his shift at the Harbor Blvd Car Wash on that clear August day. He was in the transfer tunnel dealing with a mechanical problem when he heard people crying.

Frightened, he ran to hide in the dark bathroom. Outside, he listened to his co-workers arguing with the masked man until he heard, “Okay, you got me.” Then there was silence. He was just beginning to think he was safe, when someone grabbed his arm.

Mario, who asked not to be named because of his immigration status, was among seven workers arrested by US Customs and Border Patrol at the Santa Ana car wash that day.

Aggressive and sometimes chaotic immigration sweeps that began last summer have disrupted migrant workers in major industries such as hotels, agriculture, construction and food services, causing absenteeism, production disruptions and workers putting their lives at risk, including a farm worker who died during a greenhouse gas raid in July.

These raids had a significant impact on certain local economies, such as Downtown LA's Fashion District and the Lynwood, Bell and Pico Rivera neighborhoods, places that offer simple ghost towns, with closed businesses and rare customers.

Few sites, however, have been battlegrounds as frequent as the Home Depot parking lot, where day laborers congregate, or have been hit as persistently and hard as the sunny aerial car washes of Southern California.

More than 370 workers were picked up at 100 car washes across Los Angeles and Orange counties last year, according to the CLEAN Carwash Worker Center, a nonprofit worker advocacy group that tracks raids through public reports, social media footage, and employee communications.

Mario and a few other car wash workers were able to be freed, but most of his peers are still imprisoned or deported. He often sits at home with a monitor on his ankle, where his wife and three older children often keep an eye on him.

He describes his two months in prison as the most shameful of his life. He was first put to bed in a cold place without blankets, he remembers. He and others were going to help a prisoner who had a head injury and was unable to get up and eat.

Immigration sweeps involve repeated car washes, as many as three or four times, during what is often the industry's peak season. There was a lull when a judge limited these aggressive tactics, concluding they were discriminatory and unconstitutional, but then there was another sweep in the fall when the US Supreme Court lifted those restrictions.

“When the raids were the worst, they didn't just take the employees, but they took the customers, they took the owners,” said Flor Melendrez, the executive director of CLEAN. “They would take anyone.”

Interviews with industrial workers, owners and labor lawyers show that workers at car washes that have been attacked by many criminals have dried up, due to the difficulty of attracting workers to the grueling, now dangerous work – and because businesses are now unable to pay wages.

At least 7 of the 100 or so car washes that hit the county last year, according to a Times review, have closed. Others are listed for sale or have reduced operations, are renovating and adding machines to soap and scrub and self-care centers. Some hit only once, on the contrary, they managed to recover.

Kyle Harvick, head of US Customs and Border Patrol's El Centro Sector, defended raids on businesses including car washes last year, he said in a statement. court order that “they were chosen to meet because past experience has shown that illegal aliens use and seek work in these areas.”

Mehmet Aydogan, the owner of the Westchester Hand Wash, which was attacked by criminals on consecutive days last June and 12 workers were taken (of whom four were later released), said he checks immigration websites every morning like he checks the weather. He took out a loan and has about $100,000 in credit card debt, he said.

His skilled workers who have been washing cars for decades have disappeared. He estimates that he hired about 100 people last year to combat the turnover. The car wash employed about 15 people. Now it is working with five, he said.

An employee cleans the interior of a car at Westchester Hand Wash.

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

“Now I have hired an 18-year-old girl. We have never had that before,” said Aydogan. “We have no other choice.”

The industry is already known for stealing wages and other job cuts, some longtime workers are reporting reduced hours and increased workloads, being forced to compensate new hires — all while struggling with deep psychological wounds.

An employee at a Santa Ana car wash, who asked that his name and location be withheld, had nightmares for days after the raid, and still gets chills when cars with tinted windows show up. New security protocols were later implemented – for example, having an employee posted at the door to watch the agents. But the measures have lapsed in recent months.

The car wash employed 30 to 35 workers, the employee said. Only about 10 of the original employees remain, with about 10 new hires cycling in and out. One of his former co-workers is now helping his wife with housekeeping, while at least two stay at home, living off their savings and regular jobs, he said.

“The truth is that people no longer want to work in car washes,” he said.

Unions and advocacy groups have responded to enforcement by organizing “Know Your Rights” training and public patrols to monitor union agents. Volunteers and paid campaigners crisscrossed neighborhoods on foot talking to local businesses.

There is an ongoing need for employment assistance for families with incarcerated breadwinners and protections for vulnerable immigrant workers, said Angelica Salas, executive director of the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights. Some employers have begun selectively choosing the work authorization of existing workers, an illegal practice, and are quick to fire those they suspect are undocumented, he said.

“There is an increased level of abuse because of the raid,” said Salas.

Vivi Sanchez Salinas and MiSalud, a non-profit organization that contracts with farms to provide counseling services, said the pressure of forced immigration can disrupt production and manifest itself in the form of physical illness, for example, sleep problems, stomach problems and headaches.

Without effective coping mechanisms, stress can build into chronic diagnoses, he said. Substance abuse problems, suicide and absenteeism, where someone may start skipping work, are other possible outcomes.

“It's very sad. You may not have that person anymore,” she said.

When masked gunmen stormed the premises of Valley Car Wash on Van Nuys Boulevard in September, an agent punched the owner, Rafie Shouhed, 79, on the sidewalk without warning, according to a lawsuit filed last month in the Central District of California.

Then, three agents piled on top of Shouhed, threatening him, as he complained that he had just had heart surgery and that he couldn't breathe, the lawsuit said. They did not ignore his pleas, it is alleged that they handcuffed him and took him to the Metropolitan Detention Center. Agents held Shouhed, an Iranian immigrant, in custody for 12 hours after discovering he was an American citizen born in the 1980s.

Overland Car Wash closed permanently due to ICE raid in Los Angeles.

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

A neurologist determined that Shouhed suffered a severe traumatic brain injury, according to Shouhed's attorney. While before he was a “sharp tack” and a “walking calculator,” he is now anxious and confused, his daughter said. He used to get up at 6 am every day to go to the car wash, a well-behaved businessman, he said. Now, he sends other relatives to see if the work is done and often sits on the sofa.

“He's staring into the abyss,” said his daughter Rebecca Shouhed. “His head will be down, looking down, and you can see he's not there.”

Adam Goodman, an associate professor of history at the University of Illinois Chicago, said accounts of the US government's immigration policy in the 1980s are the same today.

“People are stopping going to the shops, to Sunday Mass. They are cutting back on doctors' appointments,” said Goodman. “It shapes people's lives in a tangible way, in a very visible way.”

Now, however, Goodman said the family's separation appears to be permanent. Detention times are longer, and before deportees can return, they are now less likely to re-enter the hyper-militarized US border.

Kelly LoBianco, director of LA County's Department of Economic Opportunity, said areas with high Latino and other immigrant populations “continue to be disproportionately affected by climate change.”

His office released a total of $5.4 million to help provide relief to hundreds of small businesses in hot spots affected by the raids.

A report issued in February It's the region that highlights the level of economic turmoil: In the first week of June, when Trump sent in the National Guard, the city's nighttime curfew led to an estimated loss of $840 million.

Flor Melendez, executive director of the CLEAN Car Wash Worker Center, poses for a photo at the nonprofit organization's offices.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

On Monday, dozens gathered outside the Crenshaw Imperial Car Wash – which is permanently closed – for a tribute to the imprisoned workers organized by the CLEAN Car Wash Worker Center. Hundreds of small cardboard signs, each representing a stolen worker, line the folding table.

Among those present was Alma Ramirez, 31, who said she has struggled to manage her two sons, aged 2 and 7, on her own since her partner, José – who works at a car wash in the town of Watts – was taken in January. A lawyer is working to get him released, but the astronomical cost of the bond, estimated at between $15,000 and $20,000, is daunting.

Ramirez said his oldest son sometimes blurts out, “Why did ICE find my dad? Why does Trump hate us?” She says she is doing her best to tell him that the system is cruel and unfair, but she doesn't want the anger to grow.

“I try to keep my son in a good mood, I don't want him to be hateful,” she said.

Times staff writer Brittny Mejia contributed to this report.