Syracuse, N.Y. -- Lorenzo Ramos' landscaping business has 500 customers and three employees. He owns a home on Syracuse's North Side, where he lives with his wife and family. He has a mortgage. He pays his taxes.

After 15 years in the U.S., most of that time in Syracuse, Ramos is being deported to Guatemala.

Ramos entered the U.S. illegally. For the past nine years, he's been working with immigration officials to be allowed to stay, but all hope of that ended Monday in a small office in Buffalo.

Ramos had been checking in there, every few months, for years, his wife, Melanie, said. She and their two sons are U.S. citizens.

Lorenzo Ramos' story is an example of the reality of President Trump's campaign promise to close the country's borders. In Upstate New York, there are an estimated 200,000 undocumented immigrants living and working. They are increasingly finding themselves in the crosshairs of immigration enforcement. Arrests by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers hit a three-year high in 2017. In Upstate New York, they increased 27 percent during that time, according to data from the Pew Foundation.

People, like Ramos, who were allowed to live and work in the U.S. for years, are being told they are out of time. Often, that comes without a warning or an appearance before an immigration judge. The last time Ramos saw a judge was 2010. That appearance came after he was picked up in 2009 immigration sting with several other undocumented workers, his wife said.

Then, he had no lawyer and no idea what he should do. When the government suggested he sign a voluntary deportation order, he did, his wife said. Since then, Ramos obtained a lawyer and requested asylum because he was fleeing violence in Guatemala.

He ran a chicken business there, but left after being robbed at gunpoint, his wife said. His big brothers, who live in the U.S., told him enough was enough. One sent him money to pay for a smuggler to get him across the border to safety, Melanie Ramos said.

That plea did not win Ramos asylum. More than 70 percent of asylum requests are denied in the Buffalo immigration court, where Ramos' case was filed, according to data from TRAC. But Ramos was given a temporary stay of deportation. That came with a social security number, a permit to work legally and the hope for more permanent status.

In February, he was told that he needed to reapply. He did. In addition to his paperwork, he provided letters signed by 500 people who live and work in Syracuse and Central New York who vouched for him.

Melanie Ramos said it seemed like everything would be fine. She said her husband's work permit was reauthorized for another year shortly after they filed the paperwork. So they waited. He checked in every few weeks in person and talked to an ICE officer on the phone every Monday.

Last week they got a call telling them to come in to the Buffalo immigration office this Monday. They went early, Melanie Ramos said, because Lorenzo Ramos had work to finish at home. It's the busy season for landscaping.

He was called into the small office without her. They never let her in, so she hovered outside the door like always. Then officers came out and told Ramos they were processing him for deportation. His time was simply up.

The only time Lorenzo Ramos was in trouble with the law was in 2011, for driving while ability impaired. His wife said he never went to jail; he attended a class and has not had any trouble since then. That charge was not mentioned at this meeting, she said.

Melanie Ramos was allowed to hug and kiss her husband before they took him to detention. The ICE officers told her she could visit him and bring him 40 pounds of clothes to take back to Guatemala with him.

Neither she nor the couple's children speak Spanish. Lorenzo Ramos is fluent in English.

The couple are raising two boys, who are 9 and 13, together. The older boy is Melanie Ramos' son from a previous relationship, but Lorenzo Ramos is the only father the child has ever known.

Ramos puts the boys to bed every night. He calls the little one "Bug" and they wrestle before he tucks him in with a hug and a kiss.

Sunday, Melanie Ramos will take the boys to the detention center in Batavia to see their father and say good-bye.

Update: Melanie Ramos started an online petition asking that her husband be allowed to stay.

Marnie Eisenstadt writes about people, life and culture in Central New York. Have an idea or question? Contact her anytime: email | twitter | Facebook | 315-470-2246