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BALTIMORE — Zoila Guerra Sandoval, 48, remembers making "frijoles blancos," white beans, the day before the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsed in Baltimore in 2024.
She had just spoken with José Mynor López about the usual things — like when their daughter should be picked up from school. Mynor López, her co-parent and friend, joked that she should bring him some of the beans; she told him to swing by her house. But he had to go work his overnight road maintenance shift.
"That is how we left it. In the morning my brothers were calling me" to ask about him, Guerra Sandoval recalled in an interview with NPR this week.
"'He died in the accident,' my [brother] told me. 'It's all over the news. A boat took out the bridge.'"
Mynor López's body was the last to be found — two months later — out of the six construction workers who were killed that night. Their deaths put a spotlight on the use of immigrant and unauthorized labor in the construction industry, and prompted the Biden administration to try to provide immigration protections for about 30 people with immediate connections to the victims.
Now, under President Trump, those protections are being undone.
Rachel Girod, the immigration attorney representing Guerra Sandoval, says this administration has made every undocumented immigrant a priority for deportation.
"And when everybody is a priority, the person convicted of some of the most heinous crimes that a person can be convicted of — is just as much a priority as the mother of a child who lost her father in a national tragedy," she said.
Guerra Sandoval's story is a stark example of how immigration policy can change drastically with each administration — and transform the lives of immigrants.
Mynor López was a part of a road maintenance crew filling potholes when the bridge collapsed after being hit by a cargo vessel. Guerra Sandoval met him in 2016 in the U.S., and they bonded over being from the same town in Guatemala. They never married, but maintained a close friendship, said Guerra Sandoval, in large part because they shared a 7-year-old U.S. citizen daughter.
"I ask her if she remembers her father. She says 'Yes, but my dad died in the water,'" Guerra Sandoval said.
Guerra Sandoval is in the country without legal status. After the bridge collapse, officials with the Biden administration approached dozens of family members and loved ones of those who died and encouraged them to apply for programs that provide limited protection from deportation. The men who died in the collapse were originally from El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Mexico.
Guerra Sandoval's daughter allowed her to qualify for that relief since she is now her sole caretaker.
A former Biden-era official with the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, the agency that processes immigration applications, corroborated Guerra Sandoval's account.
The official requested anonymity to speak candidly about the sensitive conversations that took place at the time. The official said USCIS has policies in place to provide relief to people facing emergencies or other unforeseen circumstances.
"The terrible tragedy of the collapse of the Baltimore bridge fell in this category, and USCIS reviewed expedited requests from survivors and their families with great care and on a case-by-case basis," the former official said.
USCIS did not respond to a request for comment this week on Guerra Sandoval's case, or others affected by the collapse.
Stepping "out of the shadows"
At the time, former President Joe Biden met with some of the families of those who died. He offered his condolences and called the men "hard-working, strong, and selfless."
"Most were immigrants but all were Marylanders," Biden said in May 2024. "We'll never forget the contribution these men made to this city."
But just over two years since the collapse, some of those family members could now be at risk for deportation. Earlier this month, Guerra Sandoval received a letter from USCIS, notifying her that she was denied immigration relief and that she is now in removal proceedings and must appear in immigration court.
Rachel Girod, Guerra Sandoval's lawyer, said that after living in the U.S. for two decades without any criminal record, she wouldn't have been a priority for removal under previous administrations.
"She stepped out of the shadows to entrust that they would follow through on the promises that they made to her," Girod said.
Girod noted that by applying for relief, Guerra Sandoval was giving the government all her personal information — even fingerprints. "With the promise that, 'In you giving us this information, we're going to give you a work permit.' And instead, what they gave her is a hearing in front of an immigration judge with a deportation charge against her," the lawyer said.
In recent months, USCIS has fallen more in line with other immigration enforcement branches at the Homeland Security Department, which have a focus on policing.
The Trump administration has ramped up arrests and deportations for those in the country illegally to meet a goal of deporting one million people a year. It's also stripped previously available legal protections from immigrants who had relied on Biden-era and earlier programs.
USCIS has also slowed processing of immigration applications. Nearly a quarter of a million applications — like some of those filed by the families of the six victims — saw months long delays before being opened by the agency.
Cumbersome processes collide with changing administration
Girod represents five clients with relationships to victims of the bridge collapse. About 30 people were considered eligible for this, according to lawyers working on the cases. Girod said she had to file each application several times and, for some, it was almost a year before USCIS acknowledged receipt.
"The rejections had become so numerous that it was something the entire office knew about. It just felt like a cruel joke trying to get these filed," Girod said, noting some of the rejections came during the Biden administration. "Paper filings with USCIS go to these massive warehouses all over the United States. So, 30 applications out of the millions of different pieces of paperwork that come to USCIS."
She lawyers got specific instructions for how to get approval. Lawyers filling out the applications for the family members had to send the applications to a specific location, were told what the envelopes should look like and to mark each one clearly with the words "FSK Bridge Collapse."
Ama Frimpong, chief of services at We Are CASA, an immigrant advocacy organization, said some of the applications were successful. In 2024 and early 2025, several qualifying loved ones received at least temporary protection from deportation.
"As time went on, there was very clearly a slowdown in the adjudication of the applications and now clearly a denial and a placement in removal proceedings indicating a reversal," Frimpong said. She also confirmed that Guerra Sandoval's name was on a list of others corresponding with Biden officials about who was applying.
"We cannot let a child who lost her father on the bridge now lose her mother," she said.
Removal proceedings lead to immigration court
Guerra Sandoval's ordeal to stay in the U.S. also illustrates the chaotic nature of the immigration bureaucracy as the Trump administration uses the levers of government to ramp up its campaign of mass deportations.
Guerra Sandoval went into a USCIS office in December to have her fingerprints taken as a standard next step in her application. It gave her hope.
"The hope stays because they called me for my fingerprints and I am awaiting my permissions," Guerra Sandoval said.
Then she got a letter dated April 14 of this year from USCIS acknowledging that she applied for a program known as "parole in place," which would give her permission to work and be in the U.S. The program was also used by those impacted by the mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas and by those in the military who have undocumented relatives.
Girod, her lawyer, said this would not on its own give her a pathway to citizenship but could allow her daughter to someday sponsor her. It would also need to be periodically renewed.
The letter from USCIS also notes that the Secretary of Homeland Security has discretion to parole any applicant on a case-by-case basis. But in the same letter, the agency told her her application was denied because she is "presently in removal proceedings before an immigration judge or [has] an administratively final order of removal."
That was news to Guerra Sandoval and her lawyer. Neither had received any formal documents that cite where and when she needs to appear before a judge, nor official documents from DHS that indicate the agency was moving forward with deportation proceedings. Girod had to physically go to the Baltimore Immigration Court to request the formal notice to appear before a judge.
The court notice was filed April 10, just days before USCIS sent its own denial of her parole application. The notice, reviewed by NPR, notes that Guerra Sandoval is in removal proceedings because she is in the country illegally.
"It is becoming more and more normal to see different sub agencies of DHS not dot their I's and cross their T's. It means that these letters are going to come with less and less information," Girod said. She got the notice to appear this week. "And immigrants are going to be left having to fill in those blanks themselves."
Guerra Sandoval's initial hearing is scheduled for July. While going through immigration court, she will have the opportunity to ask for other kinds of relief from deportation, including specific protections for parents of children under 21.
But there are risks. Immigration cases can stay pending in court for several years. And the Trump administration put in place policies mandating detention for those who entered the country without legal status — meaning she faces the risk of being put behind bars while she fights for her right to stay.
Guerra Sandoval said others she knows were able to get their work permission within a year.
"So that's the hope I have," she said.
—NPR's Rachel Baye contributed to this report.
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