Detention of reporter Mario Guevara hits Atlanta’s Hispanic community: “Nobody does what he does”

For years, Arturo depended on Mario Guevara. The Gwinnett County resident, who asked for his real name not be shared, has met Mario, a prominent Spanish-language journalist in the Atlanta area, only once, running into him at a Home Depot. “He is very tall,” Arturo said. But Mario had been a constant presence in Arturo’s life as he navigated Atlanta.

Multiple times a day, Mario would broadcast videos on Facebook that Arturo monitored as he drove his pickup truck around the suburbs, moving from site to site for landscaping or construction jobs. Most of Mario’s reports were about sightings of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE); some were about crime or missing people; and there were always food reviews—Mario at a strip-mall restaurant off Jimmy Carter Boulevard, chowing down on tacos or tamales while he grinned for a photo. 

Tuning in to those reports, Arturo said, he felt he had some sense of what was going on around him. But now Arturo says he feels like he’s at a loss. As he drives around the metro without a license, he has no clue where ICE is. 

Mario has been in ICE custody for two months; his detention has drawn condemnation from press-freedom advocates who have described it as “grim erosion of both freedom of the press and the rule of law.” But it’s also been keenly felt by metro Atlanta residents who depend on his ultra-local news reporting to get an understanding of what’s happening around them. 

“Nobody feels security now,” Arturo said, “because [there is] nobody to tell them where ICE is.” Recently, Arturo said, a friend of his—another undocumented man—was outside a Home Depot on Tilly Mill Road, hoping to pick up some work. He got picked up by ICE instead. Mario’s arrest confirmed another fear many have had, Arturo continued. “You know why they don’t feel security now? Because even Mario, he had a permit to be here, to work here, and he’s in jail. So where is the truth?” 

On June 14, Mario was covering a Stop ICE protest in DeKalb County when police arrested him and charged him with unlawful assembly, obstruction of police, and being a pedestrian on or along the roadway. The county eventually dropped those charges, but by that time Mario—who was born in El Salvador and has been in the U.S. for more than two decades—had already been transferred to ICE custody. Though an immigration judge granted him a $7,500 bond in early July, the government appealed it, and his case remains in limbo. 

It’s been a difficult time not just for Mario’s followers but also, of course, for his family. Oscar Guevara, Mario’s son, says he’s been trying to take care of the family and to keep his father’s media outlet, MG News, running without him. “I’m trying the best I can [until] my dad gets out,” he told 285 South. The MG News office in DeKalb County, where their small staff comes to work, “feels empty,” Oscar said. They continue to receive tips from community members on ICE sightings through Mario’s Facebook page, but they aren’t really reporting on ICE enforcements at the moment. A pair of Mario’s glasses sits at his desk, which Oscar says he keeps looking at. “I see them and it’s sad. It makes me sad.”

In a response to our request for comment on why Mario is still being detained, an ICE representative sent this quote from Assistant Homeland Security Secretary Tricia McLaughlin: “The facts of this case have not changed Mario Guevara is in the country illegally.” 

“Eso es mentira”—That’s a lie—said Mario, speaking on the phone from the Folkston ICE Processing Center in an interview with Telemundo earlier this week. “Yo entré con una visa y poco después del año tuve mi permiso de trabajo y el permiso de trabajo lo he tenido vigente por los últimos 21 años de mi vida.” I entered with a visa and shortly after a year I received my work permit, and I’ve had that work permit for the last 21 years of my life.

Mario, for his part, seems to understand what his detention means for many in the community, and has been sending regular messages to readers from the detention facility. “To all our Latino community in America, I want to thank you for listening to my case,” he wrote in an August 10 post on Facebook, where he has nearly 800,000 followers. “Today I am 55 days in captivity in ICE and within what fits I am fine thank God.” 

Within hours, hundreds commented, mostly praying for his release. “Fuerzas Mario estamos esperando con ansias esa buena noticia que usted ya esta libre,” wrote one follower. Stay strong, Mario. We are eagerly awaiting the good news that you are now free. 

Community members have donated more than $15,000 to a GoFundMe that Oscar launched in early July. “I’m trying to do everything I can for my family,” said Oscar, who says he’s also picked up additional photography work to help pay the bills. “So far, I have two gigs scheduled.”

As for those who followed Mario’s ICE updates, they’re not finding the same information they used to. Standing by his truck, loaded with tools, Arturo said he also reads stories in larger local and national news sites, but “they’re talking about something else”—like President Trump sitting down with Russian President Vladimir Putin. It’s hard to find reports of what’s happening “closer to you,” he said. “[If] something is happening around your little town, you have to know it.”

“Mario is the voice,” said Arturo. “Without Mario it’s no good.  Nobody does what he does.”