By JENNIFER PELTZ and MICHAEL R. SISAK Associated Press
NEW YORK (AP) — An appeals court has thrown out the massive civil fraud penalty against President Donald Trump, ruling Thursday in New York state’s lawsuit accusing him of exaggerating his wealth.
The decision came seven months after the Republican returned to the White House. A panel of five judges in New York’s mid-level Appellate Division said the verdict, which stood to cost Trump more than $515 million and rock his real estate empire, was “excessive.”
Related Articles
Powell to give his last Jackson Hole speech under watchful gaze of Wall Street and the White House
Patient numbers at NIH hospital have plummeted under Trump, jeopardizing care
California is set to act fast after Texas advances congressional maps to boost Republicans
The US and EU release a bare-bones account of their trade deal, but it’s a work in progress
Report: ICE eyeing shuttered private prison in Minnesota for immigrant detention
After finding that Trump engaged in fraud by flagrantly padding financial statements that went to lenders and insurers, Judge Arthur Engoron ordered him last year to pay $355 million in penalties. With interest, the sum has topped $515 million.
The total — combined with penalties levied on some other Trump Organization executives, including Trump’s sons Eric and Donald Jr. — now exceeds $527 million, with interest.
“While the injunctive relief ordered by the court is well crafted to curb defendants’ business culture, the court’s disgorgement order, which directs that defendants pay nearly half a billion dollars to the State of New York, is an excessive fine that violates the Eighth Amendment of the United States Constitution,” Judges Dianne T. Renwick and Peter H. Moulton wrote in one of several opinions shaping the appeals court’s ruling.
The court, which was split on the merits of the lawsuit and the lower court’s fraud finding, dismissed the penalty Engoron imposed in its entirety while also leaving a pathway for further appeals to the state’s highest court, the Court of Appeals.
The appeals court, the Appellate Division of the state’s trial court, took an unusually long time to rule, weighing Trump’s appeal for nearly 11 months after oral arguments last fall. Normally, appeals are decided in a matter of weeks or a few months.
New York Attorney General Letitia James, who brought the suit on the state’s behalf, has said the businessman-turned-politician engaged in “lying, cheating, and staggering fraud.”
Trump and his co-defendants denied wrongdoing. In a six-minute summation of sorts after a monthslong trial, Trump proclaimed in January 2024 that he was “an innocent man” and the case was a “fraud on me.” He has repeatedly maintained that the case and verdict were political moves by James and Engoron, who are both Democrats.
Trump’s Justice Department has subpoenaed James for records related to the lawsuit, among other documents, as part of an investigation into whether she violated the president’s civil rights. James’ personal attorney, Abbe D. Lowell, has said that investigating the fraud case is “the most blatant and desperate example of this administration carrying out the president’s political retribution campaign.”
Trump and his lawyers said his financial statements weren’t deceptive, since they came with disclaimers noting they weren’t audited. The defense also noted that bankers and insurers independently evaluated the numbers, and the loans were repaid.
Despite such discrepancies as tripling the size of his Trump Tower penthouse, he said the financial statements were, if anything, lowball estimates of his fortune.
During an appellate court hearing in September, Trump’s lawyers argued that many of the case’s allegations were too old, an assertion they made unsuccessfully before trial. The defense also contends that James misused a consumer-protection law to sue Trump and improperly policed private business transactions that were satisfactory to those involved.
State attorneys said the law in question applies to fraudulent or illegal business conduct, whether it targets everyday consumers or big corporations. Though Trump insists no one was harmed by the financial statements, the state contends that the numbers led lenders to make riskier loans than they knew, and that honest borrowers lose out when others game their net-worth numbers.
The state has argued that the verdict rests on ample evidence and that the scale of the penalty comports with Trump’s gains, including his profits on properties financed with the loans and the interest he saved by getting favorable terms offered to wealthy borrowers.
The civil fraud case was just one of several legal obstacles for Trump as he campaigned, won and segued to a second term as president.
And in December, a federal appeals court upheld a jury’s finding that Trump sexually abused writer E. Jean Carroll in the mid-1990s and later defamed her, affirming a $5 million judgment against him. The appeals court declined in June to reconsider; he still can try to get the Supreme Court to hear his appeal.
He’s also appealing a subsequent verdict that requires him to pay Carroll $83.3 million for additional defamation claims.
Related Articles
Uganda agrees deal with US to take deported migrants if they don’t have criminal records
Powell to give his last Jackson Hole speech under watchful gaze of Wall Street and the White House
Patient numbers at NIH hospital have plummeted under Trump, jeopardizing care
California is set to act fast after Texas advances congressional maps to boost Republicans
The US and EU release a bare-bones account of their trade deal, but it’s a work in progress
I turn a bend and see a figure in a cornfield. The gray sky is foreboding, a storm clearly on the horizon. When I take a step forward, I’m hit with a gust of wind and fog. Suddenly, it’s no longer a silhouette in the haze but a scarecrow, shrouded in hay, lurching toward me.
Related Articles
It’s the cheapest time of the year to visit Disneyland right now
Paris residents fight overtourism and ‘Disneyfication’ of beloved Montmartre neighborhood
A-hutting we will go: Rustic and cozy, Switzerland’s hiker huts are places for connecting
Best sailing destinations in the US
A viral cafe in LA’s Little Tokyo brings an epic anime series to life
Only I am not on a Midwestern farm, and there is no threat of severe weather. I’m in a warehouse in Las Vegas, walking through a maze called “Scarecrow: The Reaping.” I jump back and fixate my phone’s camera on the creature, but that only encourages them to step closer. I’m hurried out of the farmland and into a hall, where giant stalks now obscure my path.
Welcome to Universal Horror Unleashed, which aims to deliver year-round horrors and further expand theme park-like experiences beyond their hubs of Southern California and Central Florida. Horror Unleashed, which opened Aug. 14, is an outgrowth of Universal’s popular fall event, Halloween Horror Nights, which has been running yearly at the company’s Los Angeles park since 2006 and even longer at its larger Florida counterpart.
Like Halloween Horror Nights, there are maze-like haunted houses — four of them here themed to various properties such as “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and “The Exorcist.” Their more permanent status allows for a greater production factor — think disappearing walls and more elaborate show scenes — and they are surrounded by brooding bars, a pop-up rock-inspired dance show and a host of original walk-around characters. “Hey, sugar,” said a young woman as I near the warehouse’s main bar, a wraparound establishment themed to a large boiler. The actor’s face was scarred with blood, hinting at a backstory I didn’t have time — or perhaps the inclination — to explore.
Horror Unleashed is opening just on the cusp of when theme parks and immersive-focused live experiences are entering one of the busiest times of the year: Halloween. The holiday, of course, essentially starts earlier each year. This year’s Halloween Horror Nights begins Sept. 4, while Halloween season at the Disneyland Resort launches Aug. 22. Horror shows and films are now successful year-round, with the likes of “Sinners” and “The Last of Us” enrapturing audiences long before Oct. 31. Culture has now fully embraced the darker side of fairy tales.
“You can make every month horrific,” says Nate Stevenson, Horror Unleashed’s show director.
That’s been a goal of David Markland, co-founder of Long Beach’s Halloween-focused convention Midsummer Scream, which this year is set for the weekend of Aug. 15. When Midsummer Scream began in 2016, it attracted about 8,000 people, says Markland, but today commands audiences of around 50,000. “Rapidly, over the past 10 or 15 years, Halloween has become a year-round fascination for people,” Markland says. “Halloween is a culture now. Halloween is a lifestyle. It’s a part of people’s lives that they celebrate year-round.”
There will be challenges, a difficult tourism market among them, as visits to Las Vegas were down 11.3% in June 2025 versus a year earlier, according to data from the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority. And then there’s the question of whether audiences are ready for year-round haunts that extend beyond the fall Halloween season to winter, spring and summer. I entered Horror Unleashed for a media preview on an early August night when it was 105 degrees in the Las Vegas heat. It’s also been tried before, albeit on a smaller scale. Las Vegas was once home to Eli Roth’s Goretorium, a year-round haunted house that leaned on torture-horror and shuttered after about a year in 2013.
But Universal creatives are undaunted.
Bars and food locations serve craft cocktails and themed bites in select areas at Universal Horror Unleashed in Las Vegas. (Universal Destinations & Experiences/TNS/TNS)
“Scarecrow: The Reaping” is one of four haunted houses at Universal Horror Unleashed in Las Vegas. (Universal Destinations & Experiences/TNS/TNS)
The Boiler offers guests a momentary respite, with craft cocktails underneath a flaming machine at Universal Horror Unleashed in Las Vegas. (Universal Destinations & Experiences/TNS/TNS)
Horror icons await guests in the Universal Monsters haunted house at Universal Horror Unleashed in Las Vegas. (Universal Destinations & Experiences/TNS/TNS)
1 of 4
Bars and food locations serve craft cocktails and themed bites in select areas at Universal Horror Unleashed in Las Vegas. (Universal Destinations & Experiences/TNS/TNS)
More than a decade, of course, has passed, and Horror Unleashed is more diverse in its horror offerings. A maze themed to Universal’s classic creatures winds through a castle and catacombs with vintage-style horrors and a mid-show scene in which Frankenstein’s monster comes alive. Original tale “Scarecrow: The Reaping,” which began at Universal Studios Florida, mixes in jump scares with more natural-seeming frights, such as the aforementioned simulated dust bowl.
TJ Mannarino, vice president of entertainment, art and design at Universal Orlando, points to cultural happenings outside of the theme parks in broadening the terror scene — the success of shows such as “The Walking Dead” and “American Horror Story,” which found audiences outside of the Halloween season, as well as “Stranger Things,” which he says opened up horror to a younger crowd. Theme parks are simply reflecting our modern culture, which is craving darker fantasies. Universal, for instance, recently opened an entire theme park land focused on its classic monsters at its new Epic Universe in Florida, and even Disney is getting in on the action, as a villains-focused land is in the works for Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom.
“We think our audience really wants this,” says Mannarino, noting theme park attendance surveys were prodding the company to give horror a permanent home. And at Universal’s Orlando park, Halloween Horror Nights starts earlier, beginning in late August.
“Just a couple years ago, we started in August, and we were selling out August dates,” Stevenson says. “On a micro level, we’re seeing that, boy, it doesn’t matter if you extend past the season or extend out before the season — people are coming. People want it.”
Universal is betting on it, as the company has already announced that a second Horror Unleashed venue will be heading to Chicago in 2027. Smaller, more regional theme park-like experiences are once again something of a trend, as Netflix has immersive venues planned for the Dallas and Philadelphia regions, and Universal is also bringing a kid-focused park to Frisco, Texas.
There are antecedents for what Universal is attempting. Disney, for instance, tried an indoor interactive theme park with DisneyQuest, for which a Chicago location was short-lived and a Florida outpost closed in 2017. Star Trek: The Experience, a mix of theme park-like simulations and interactive theater, operated for about a decade in Las Vegas before it shuttered in 2008.
“I know there’s horror fans and Halloween fans who are always looking for something to do,” Markland says. “What (Universal is) doing is very ambitious and big, and so I’m nervous along with them. We’ll see how it goes. I’m sure people will go as soon as it opens and through the Halloween season, but after that, I don’t know. … They’ve definitely invested in Halloween and horror fans. They’re all-in.”
Horror, says author Lisa Morton — who has written multiple books on the Oct. 31 holiday, including “Trick or Treat: A History of Halloween” — is thriving in part because today it is taken more seriously by cultural critics. The genre also has metaphorical qualities — the struggle, for instance, that is life, art and creativity in “Sinners” or the underlying themes of PTSD that permeated the latest season of “The Last of Us.” That makes it especially appealing, she says, for today’s stressful times.
“I suspect that’s part of the reason horror is booming right now,” Morton says. “Everything from climate change, that we seem to have no voice in, and our politics, that don’t seem to represent us. Many of us are filled with anxiety about the future. I think horror is the perfect genre to talk about that. When you add a layer of a metaphor to it, it becomes much easier to digest.”
To step into Horror Unleashed is to walk into a demented wonderland, a place that turns standard theme park warmth and joy upside down. Don’t expect fairy tale-like happy endings. The space’s centerpiece performance is twisted, a story centering on Jack the Clown and his female sidekick Chance, who have kidnapped two poor Las Vegas street performers and are forcing them to execute their acts to perfection to avoid murder. The deeper one analyzes it, the more sinister its class dynamics feel, even if it’s an excuse to showcase, say, street dancing and hula hoop acrobatics.
The space has an underlying narrative. Broadly speaking, the warehouse is said to have been a storage place for Universal Studios’ early monster-focused horror films. That allows it to be littered with props, such as the throne-like chair near its entrance, and for nooks and crannies such as a “film vault” to be renamed a “kill vault.” Somehow — horror loves a good mystery — the space has come alive, and don’t be surprised to be greeted by a vampire or a costumed swampland figure that may or may not be related to the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
The goal, says Universal creatives, is to give Horror Unleashed a bit of an immersive theater feel, something that can’t really be done among the chaotic scare zones and fast-moving mazes of a Halloween Horror Nights event. But here, guests can linger with the actors and probe them to try to uncover the storyline that imbues the venue. One-to-one actor interaction has long been a goal of those in the theme park space but often a tough formula to crack, in part because cast members are costly and in part because of the difficulty to scale such experiences for thousands.
“As we’ve evolved this style of experience, we have given more and more control of the show to the actors,” says Mannarino on what separates Horror Unleashed from Halloween Horror Nights. “It’s less programmed. It’s less technology. I’ve had conversations with tech magazines, and they’ll ask me what is the most critical piece, and I’ll say it’s the actors. … The lifeblood of our all stories — we can build all of this, but it doesn’t go without the actors.
“It’s what really drives this whole animal,” he adds.
It extends a bit to the mazes as well. Audiences should expect to spend about five to seven minutes in each of the four walk-through attractions, but unlike a Halloween Horror Nights event, where guests are rushed from room to room without stopping, in Las Vegas there will be one dedicated show scene per maze. Here, groups will be held to watch a mini-performance. In the “Exorcist” maze, for instance, that means witnessing a full exorcism, complete with special effects that will have walls give way to demonic specters. In the ’70s-themed “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” haunt, look out for a bloody scene designed to drench guests.
The mazes are intended to be semi-permanent. Stevenson says there’s no immediate plans to swap them out in the near future but hints that Horror Unleashed will be an evolving venue and, if all goes according to plan, will look a bit different in a few years. Thus, he says the key differentiator between Horror Unleashed and Halloween Horror Nights is not necessarily the tech used in the mazes, but the extended time they can devote to unwrapping a story.
“When Universal builds a haunted house, the level of story that starts that out is enormous,” Stevenson says. “There’s so much story. All of our partners need that because they base every little nuanced thing off of that story. Unfortunately, we don’t always have the chance to tell that story, and all our fans tell us they want to know more story.”
Story percolates throughout the venue. Flatbreads, for instance, are shaped like chainsaw blades. Desserts come on plates that are mini-shovels. Salad dressing is delivered in syringes. In the past, says Mannarino, no one wanted their food to be played with. ‘”Don’t do horrible things to my food!’” he says in mock exaggeration. “But now, people really love that.”
Little, it seems, is obscene, when every day can be Halloween.
The start of Disneyland’s busy Halloween season is also one of the cheapest times of the year to visit the Anaheim theme park when bargain hunters can save more than $100 on tickets.
Tickets to Disneyland or Disney California Adventure cost $104 during 16 select dates in late August and early September — the lowest price in the theme park resort’s seven-tiered pricing system.
Disneyland introduced tiered pricing in 2016 with lower prices during slower periods of the year and higher prices during the busiest seasons. Since then, the park has expanded the number of ticket tiers and raised prices on the top end to $206 while holding the lowest price steady at the $104 level.
Daily tickets for Disneyland or DCA can be purchased for $104 on the following dates:
Aug. 19-21
Aug. 25-28
Sept. 2-4
Sept. 9-11
Sept. 16-18
All of the $104 dates fall on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday except for Aug. 25 — which is a Monday.
Related Articles
Every day can be Halloween: Why theme parks are going big on year-round horror experiences
Paris residents fight overtourism and ‘Disneyfication’ of beloved Montmartre neighborhood
A-hutting we will go: Rustic and cozy, Switzerland’s hiker huts are places for connecting
Best sailing destinations in the US
A viral cafe in LA’s Little Tokyo brings an epic anime series to life
A few of the lowest-priced August dates land just a few days away from top-tier $206 dates — on Aug. 23 and Aug. 30-31.
The remaining highest-priced dates in 2025 fall on Saturdays in October (Oct. 4, 11 and 18) and November (Nov. 8 and 29) and during Thanksgiving (Nov. 24-29) and Christmas (Dec. 20-31).
Right now is one of three stretches on Disneyland’s tiered-pricing calendar when the park typically lowers admission to rock bottom levels.
You’ll have to wait until a stretch of weekdays after Halloween and before Thanksgiving for your next chance at $104 Disneyland tickets — on Nov. 3-6 and Nov. 10-13.
The third stretch of the year when Disneyland tickets are typically at their lowest prices happens after the Christmas season ends. In 2026, those dates fall on select weekdays between Jan. 6 and Feb. 12.
Jesús Escalona Mújicas, a 48-year-old Venezuelan asylum-seeker, says he was en route to work at a construction site on the morning of April 9 when a group of immigration agents and state and federal police officers stopped his car in a rural area near Bryan—an event that led to him being arrested, publicly accused of membership in a transnational prison gang, and deported.
According to a Texas Department of Public Safety (DPS) arrest report, the officers were with DPS, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), and Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents (ICE). Escalona Mújicas told the Texas Observer that one of the agents said he had an outstanding deportation order, a claim he disputed by saying he had temporary permission to be here and a pending asylum case. (ICE, via a spokesperson, maintains that he “had no immigration benefits that prevented his arrest and removal.”)
But the details of any immigration case didn’t seem to matter. In an interview, Escalona Mújicas said he was told he’d been targeted under an 18th-century law being revived by the Trump Administration—the Alien Enemies Act. Agents then took him to a gas station parking lot where he was accused of belonging to Tren de Aragua, a Venezuelan gang designated by the United States as a foreign terrorist organization.
That same day, ICE issued a press release announcing Escalona Mújicas’s arrest and calling him a “documented Tren de Aragua gang member,” accompanied by a photo of him wearing a camouflage John Deere sweatshirt, silver handcuffs, and a wide-eyed expression.
But reporting by the Observer casts doubt on ICE’s claim. Days after the arrest, Oswaldo Azuaje, a friend, helped start a social media campaign in Venezuela in an attempt to clear Escalona Mújica’s name: “He has never been imprisoned or had a criminal record. His life has always been marked by hard work and integrity. He has no connection to the Tren de Aragua case,” Azuaje wrote. In mid-July, the Observer reached Escalona Mújicas in Venezuela by phone, and he recalled being shocked by the allegation. “Me? A gang member? I’m a person with good conduct,” he said. A father of two teen girls, he said he’d never heard of Tren de Aragua until after his arrival in Texas.
Before emigrating, Escalona Mújicas worked for the same employer, Empresas Polar, a Venezuelan Pepsi affiliate, for nearly two decades. He has no criminal history or record of gang activity in Texas and only traffic tickets in Venezuela, according to a search of U.S. and Venezuelan public records and interviews. In an interview, another Venezuelan friend and former neighbor, María Iriza Mendoza, rejected the gang accusation, calling him a “very hard-working man.” Back in Venezuela, she said, “He didn’t even have vices.”
In March, President Donald Trump signed a proclamation declaring that Tren de Aragua was invading the United States and invoking the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, a war-time law that his administration is using to fast-track expatriations—without due process—of immigrants accused of belonging to criminal gangs. Venezuelans, who arrived in large numbers in recent years and in many cases received Biden-era temporary protections, have been singled out as a target for Trump’s aggressively anti-immigrant policies.
The same month, the administration flew more than 200 Venezuelans to a megaprison in El Salvador—the majority of whom had no criminal records. One man was misidentified, perhaps due to a mixup with another person whose photo appeared in a Texas gang database. U.S. authorities have used tattoos and clothing items to determine Tren de Aragua membership, although experts told the Observer that these can’t be used as reliable indicators. Escalona Mújicas has no tattoos.
Police body camera footage obtained by the Texas Observer only shows a portion of the traffic stop and Escalona Mújicas’ arrest.
But it’s clear from the recordings that the ambush was planned. In his recording, DPS officer Erik Zani said: “He’s on his way. We’re probably 300 yards behind him. He’s just driving real slow, like he did the other day. He’s still coming down to approach that four-way stop. He should be getting there any minute now.” Seconds later, sirens go off.
By Escalona Mújicas’ account, before he opened his car door at the traffic stop, an agent told him “the President does not want to see Haitians, Nicaraguans, Cubans, or Venezuelans here.” The Observer could not obtain footage of that conversation.
At least five police cars and seven officers surrounded Escalona Mújicas, according to footage recorded by three DPS officers. A minute after sirens sounded, Escalona Mújicas was pressed against his car with his hands behind his back and illuminated only by red and blue police emergency lights, video shows.
One of the arresting officers was DPS Special Agent Garrett Burkhart, who had been specifically requested to assist FBI and ICE “with the apprehension of a TREN DE ARAGUA gang member,” according to a DPS arrest report. That report wrongly identified Escalona Mujica’s nationality–identifying him as “an alien of El Salvadorian origin without legal status in the United States.”
Escalona Mújicas is Venezuelan rather than Salvadoran, according to public records, a press release from ICE, and Escalona Mújicas himself.
Burkhart watched as other agents detained Escalona Mújicas, videos show.
“You have an order for arrest with the immigration,” another agent told Escalona Mújicas in Spanish. “Do you understand? Do you understand? What is your complete name?”
Burkhart then walks away as other officers handcuffed him. “Cameras off!” another yelled, and the recording ends.
Agents then escorted Escalona Mújicas to a gas station, where they interviewed him and accused him of having gang ties, he said. (In response to a records request, DPS said that although an agent was present in the interview, they did not have a recording.)
The Observer shared the details of Escalona Mújicas’ case, including the DPS arrest report, with experts who said they doubted ICE and DPS had targeted the right individual. “To be totally frank, it sounds like they fucked up,” said Mike LaSusa, deputy director of content and an investigative researcher at InSight Crime, a think tank and newsroom that has researched and reported on Tren de Aragua. LaSusa noted specifically that DPS misidentified Escalona Mújicas as Salvadoran. “This isn’t an indication of strong intelligence work, if they can’t get the guy’s nationality right.”
The DPS report itself also states that Escalona Mújicas did not appear in TxGANG, Texas’ problem-plagued gang database: “While sufficient criteria was not available to document ESCALONA MUJICAS as a gang member in TXGANG, SA Burkhart was advised that the United States Attaché in Guatemala had documented ESCALONA MUJICAS as a TREN DE ARAGUA gang member.”
Escalona Mújicas told the Observer he passed through Guatemala briefly en route from Venezuela to Texas. While on a bus migrating through the country, he explained, U.S. and Guatemalan authorities stopped him and a few others, plucking them out of a group of passengers at a checkpoint in Coatepeque, a town roughly 20 miles from the Mexican border. (Escalona Mújicas did not recall which agency the U.S. authorities worked with; he said they wore uniforms with U.S. flags, and appeared to be soldiers.)
The other men selected from the group, Escalona Mújicas noted, had tattoos of trains, crowns, or Air Jordan sneakers.
Authorities took his ID and passport information, collected his fingerprints, and photographed him and his Air Jordans—which they claimed were a symbol of gang membership, he said.
Kristin Etter, director of policy and legal services at the Texas Immigration Law Council, expressed surprise at DPS’s use of overseas intelligence from a U.S. attaché—a federal official who’s assigned to a foreign diplomatic mission or embassy—to try to designate someone in the United States as a gang member. She was also alarmed by the incorrect nationality in the DPS report. “It appears that almost everything about this report is false. So, who knows whether that was intentionally so, or just due to sloppy police work,” Etter said.
The FBI and DPS did not respond to Observer requests for comment. When asked about proof of Escalona Mújicas’ gang affiliation, ICE spokesperson Tim Oberle provided a statement “Attributable to a Senior DHS Official” that said Escalona Mújicas had entered the country illegally and had an active order of removal. (The Observer was unable to verify Escalona Mújicas’ claims to the contrary; U.S. immigration court records are not public, and he said he left those documents in the car at the time of his arrest.)
The ICE statement continued: “We are confident in our law enforcement’s intelligence, and we aren’t going to share intelligence reports and undermine national security every time a gang member denies he is one. That would be insane.”
During his month in ICE detention, loved ones feared he’d be sent to CECOT, the megaprison in El Salvador. “My mom, my dad, everyone was going around scared. My brother, my sister, my nephew, you have no idea,” he said.
Escalona Mújicas was deported to Venezuela on May 1, according to ICE. In an interview, he recalled sharing a plane with 300 others, all in shackles. It had been almost three years since he’d been laid off from his job as a forklift operator at Empresas Polar, the Pepsi affiliate, leading him on his journey through the treacherous Darien Gap, across Central America, and eventually to Texas.
When he spoke to the Observer in mid-July, he said he was preparing to emigrate again: this time, to Spain, a country that has fewer immigration restrictions for Venezuelans. In mid-August, Escalona Mújicas spoke to the Observer again by phone—this time from Madrid, where he began a new construction gig this week.
Even though ICE has refused to provide information to substantiate its claims, experts including Etter from the Texas Immigration Law Council said the consequences of the press release labelling him as a gang member could last.
“That could be an issue that could follow him, really, the rest of his life.”
Valentina Lares and Laura Weffer of the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project contributed to this report.
