After the factory where Miguel Gonzalez worked was raided by immigration agents, he feared he’d be deported and moved his family back to Mexico. Now Miguel struggles to get by and his daughter Casandra, who was born in the U.S., must learn to live in a country that she had never before called home.

Immigration agents showed up at Kevin Kelly's factory and he lost his star workers

ICE would soon discover that 18 of Kelly's 180 employees had used fake documents to get hired at the factory, which makes plastic bags and other packaging for produce companies such as Dole, Del Monte and Earthbound Farm.

"When it happened, I was in Europe looking at printing presses," said Kelly, who took over Emerald Packaging from his father. He recalls rushing home as soon as he heard.

Kevin Kelly wasn't even in the United States the day Immigration and Customs Enforcement showed up at his manufacturing facility outside of San Francisco in February, 2011.

"Miguel was tired of driving down the street, worried about whether he was going to get pulled over by a police officer, checked and arrested," said Kelly. "So he just finally had had it and left. He went home."

So about five months after the ICE raid, Miguel moved his family to Mexico.

Neither could he have used the same fraudulent documents to obtain another job. "The system used by his new employer to verify employee eligibility to work would have flagged him," she said.

"If Miguel came back to work at the company, he could have been charged with using false documents to deceive the U.S. government and receive U.S. benefits," said Helen Ramirez, an immigration attorney with Ramirez & Ramirez.

"I was very upset to see Miguel go, but I had to," said Kelly.

When Gonzalez was flagged as one of the 18 undocumented workers, Kelly's heart sank.

"Losing him had an immediate impact on production because there just wasn't anybody of Miguel's caliber to replace him. There just wasn't," said Kelly.

Keen to learn and move up the ranks, Gonzalez routinely took on extra work and hours. He also rarely missed work, even returning to the factory floor just two days after his first child, Casandra, was born.

"You not only end up losing a person who knew how to work the machines really well, you lose a person who could walk into my office and tell me what's going on in the facility," he said.

Gonzalez had worked for Emerald Packaging for over 20 years. He started as a box handler, moving and storing product pallets and factory supplies, and worked his way up to assistant foreman. He was a gifted mechanic and Kelly relied on him to help keep the factory running.

"We lost tremendous talent. And to this day, we haven't been able to replace it," said Kelly.

Kelly said the workers he lost as a result of the ICE raid were some of his most experienced employees.

"One of the biggest worries that our clients have is that a government official with a gun and a badge will show up in their lobby asking questions," Ghouse said. "This has the potential to disrupt business opportunities with customers that may be visiting the client that day, as well as cause concerns with existing employees."

Now, as President Trump fulfills his tough-on-immigration campaign promises, companies are growing concerned that work site raids may make a comeback, said Jeff Ghouse, a partner with Ansbach & Ghouse, a Dallas-based law group that specializes in immigration issues.

During the early years of the Obama administration, work site raids ramped up significantly. But in 2014, the administration began focusing more on arresting undocumented immigrants engaged in criminal activities instead.

"The people who left were making over $20 an hour, five or six years ago. They were putting their kids through school and college," he said. “When people say these companies are hiring illegal labor because they want to keep their costs down... in our case that argument is complete bullshit."

"These aren't cheap positions," said Kelly. They range from $15 an hour entry-level jobs to $35 an hour for experienced mechanics. "With overtime of $27 to $35 an hour, you can make pretty good money of $75,000 to over $100,000 a year," he said.

Kelly said his company wasn't knowingly hiring undocumented immigrant labor to keep costs down.

While Emerald Packaging has grown -- it has 239 employees today -- there are 17 current job openings on the factory floor that Kelly is struggling to fill. Productivity is still down about 5% today, he said.

"New hires have come and gone, but we're still in that period six years later where these workers don't have the skills that those [fired] people had. This hurts productivity. There's just no way around it," he said.

And when Kelly did find people who wanted to work at the factory, many of them didn't have the same level of skills or the years of experience of the lost workers. Other applicants failed to pass the drug test, said Kelly.

Hiring was also a problem. "We are willing to hire Americans. I mean, the people who work here obviously are Americans in the same way my grandparents became Americans when they emigrated from Ireland in the 1920s," said Kelly. "But we can't get white people, if you will, to take these jobs."

The company took an initial financial hit as it doled out extra overtime pay to the workers who picked up the slack.

"Productivity fell 15% right after the raid because suddenly we didn't have those people to staff the machines," said Kelly.

ICE spokesman James Schwab declined to comment on the Emerald Packaging I-9 audit other than to say the agency routinely conducts checks of companies' hiring records to ensure businesses are complying with the law.

Emerald Packaging was never fined "because the agency found that we did nothing wrong," said Kelly. And none of the 18 workers were arrested as a result of the audit, the company's attorney Marcine Seid said. Four of the fired workers eventually gained legal status and Kelly rehired them.

As word of the ICE investigation spread across the factory floor, a dozen workers confessed on their own. Eventually, all 18 were let go.

"We sent over boxes of forms to them," said Kelly. After about three weeks, ICE had surfaced the 18 workers, all of whom had worked at Emerald Packaging for at least a decade.

The ICE agents arrived at the Union City, California, facility on a Monday and requested I-9 forms for all Emerald Packaging's employees to be sent to the agency's local office by the end of the week.

When the ICE raid happened, the business had also just started using E-Verify -- a federally-run online tool that crosschecks the information on an employee's I-9 form against records maintained by the Social Security Administration, Department of Homeland Security and the State Department.

But Kelly said everyone had provided Social Security cards and identification, such as driver's licenses and green cards, as proof of their legal status before they were hired. And just as all employers are required to do by law, Emerald Packaging had completed I-9 employment verification forms for each employee.

As far as Kelly knew, all his employees were in the U.S. legally. "There are always one or two that you wonder about," he admitted.

"I knew sooner or later I could get caught," said Miguel Gonzalez. In February 2011, Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials showed up unannounced at Emerald Packaging, the factory where Miguel worked. As a result of the raid, 18 of the Union City, California factory's 180 workers were caught using fraudulent and counterfeit documents, such as Social Security cards and green cards, to establish their legal status and land jobs.

"My life was like any American family. My kids played baseball, soccer. We took vacations. I was paying my mortgage." Miguel Gonzalez

Miguel was one of them. He was called into the human resources office a few days later and let go. "That day broke all my dream," said Miguel. Miguel had been working at Emerald, a manufacturer of plastic bags and other packaging products for fresh produce companies, for more than 20 years. When he was fired, he was making $22 an hour and getting retirement and health benefits. Miguel paid taxes. He had a house in the suburbs, he owned a car and he was putting money away for his three kids to go to college. "My life was like any American family," said Miguel, who is now 48. "My kids played baseball, soccer. We took vacations, I was paying my mortgage and saving money to pay for college." While Emerald's attorneys were able to help four of the workers gain legal status, Miguel gave up on finding a way to keep his job or stay in the country.

Miguel had been working at Emerald, a manufacturer of plastic bags and other packaging products for fresh produce companies, for more than 20 years.

"The day [they] let me go, [it] broke my heart," he said. "In my mind came a lot of things. All the time I worked for them. All the things I did for them. All the years I worked really hard. That day changed everything." Throughout his time in America, Miguel had never been arrested. Now he was scared he was on ICE's radar. He could be tracked down and potentially deported. It terrified him to think he'd be separated from his children if he and his wife, who was also an undocumented immigrant from Mexico, were deported. "I really wanted to stay in the United States, but something in me was broken. My American Dream was broken," he said. Miguel found another factory job in the area, but his heart wasn't in it. "I felt it was time to go back to my country and start over," he said. About four months after the raid, in June 2011, Miguel moved his entire family back to his hometown of Tala, outside of Guadalajara, Mexico. His children, ages 6, 11 and 13 at the time, had all been born in the United States -- making them American citizens. "If this had happened to me a few years later, at least my oldest daughter and my son would have been in college, making their own lives," he said. Now, back in Mexico, the future was much more uncertain. A dream deferred The last time Miguel had lived in Mexico, he was a 19-year-old auto mechanic looking for more out of life. "I had bigger dreams for myself," he said. In 1988, he paid a coyote -- a person who smuggles people over the border -- $200 to help him enter into the U.S. After he crossed the border near Tijuana, he made his way to Oakland, California, where a cousin took him in. At the time, Miguel didn't speak English.

A young Miguel Gonzalez

His first job was grueling. "I poured concrete in backyards. I worked from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. for $50 a day and no breaks," he said. But then he got a driver's license from the Department of Motor Vehicles in Oakland. Prior to 1994, the agency didn't require applicants to show documents of "legal presence" in the U.S. So the only thing Miguel had to show was his Mexican birth certificate. A driver's license was the key that opened the door to "a regular American life," he said. "With that ID, I bought a car and rented an apartment," he said. He also bought a fake Social Security card and green card (paying $100 for each). "We had ways to get the documents we needed," he said. Miguel knew this was illegal, "but this was the only way I could get a job," he said. He soon managed to upgrade jobs, becoming a janitor at a local JC Penney where he worked for two years. As the years passed, he said he even forgot that most of his documents were fraudulent. In 1991, a friend told him about job openings at Emerald Packaging. The possibility of working with machines excited Miguel. But he needed to pass a company English test first. Luckily, he had been taking English lessons at a local school in Oakland for almost two years. "They gave me 100 questions to do in 30 minutes. I finished in seven minutes, almost all correct," he said. Miguel landed the job at Emerald, and started out earning $7.97 an hour moving and storing pallets. But he showed initiative by tinkering with and fixing up the machines on the factory floor on his own time to help them operate better. Two years into the job, he was promoted into a role where he learned to set up, repair and maintain the factory equipment. Kevin Kelly, his boss at the time, remembers Miguel as one of his best workers. "He was the single best machine mechanic we had." Over time, Miguel taught himself every aspect of the business, including payments and shipping. Two decades after starting at Emerald, he was a foreman making $22 an hour. As he settled into his blue-collar American life, Miguel made a few trips back to Mexico by car to visit his family. His driver's license easily got him back across the border, he said. During one visit in 1994, he met his wife Maria and married her. A few years later, Maria, too, came into the U.S. with the help of a coyote. First, the couple rented a house in Hayward, California, a suburb close to Emerald's factory.

Their first child, Casandra, was born in 1998 and son Miguel Jr. soon followed in 2000.

Their first child, Casandra, was born in 1998 and son Miguel Jr. soon followed in 2000, later came Alexandra. Miguel was worried the schools weren't good enough in Hayward so he moved the family to the suburb of Tracy. The schools were better, but it meant Miguel would commute a total of three hours every day to and from work. Miguel was closer than ever to attaining the American Dream. But the closer he got, the more fearful he became about losing everything: the job, the house, the car, sending his kids to college in America. When ICE arrived at Emerald and discovered Miguel's status, he hit a breaking point. "The raid affected me too much," he said. Of the 18 undocumented workers at Emerald outed by ICE, Miguel was the only one to decide to leave the U.S. 'It's taken us many years to feel better' When the Gonzalez family first arrived in Tala, Mexico, it was a tough adjustment. All three children were sent to schools where classes were taught in Spanish -- a language they didn't know. The move was hardest on Casandra, who was 13 at the time. "Moving to Mexico was heartbreaking for me. I was desperate to go back [to the U.S.]," she said. Miguel picked up the reins at his father's business, Bloquera San Miguel, which makes concrete construction bricks. "When I came back, the business was in trouble," he said.

Six years after leaving the U.S., Miguel admits that the move to Mexico has been a struggle.