Allentown grandfather’s family was told he died in ICE custody. Then they learned he’s alive — in a hospital in Guatemala, they say

Relatives of 82-year-old Allentown resident Luis Leon are headed to a Guatemalan hospital Saturday in hopes of reuniting with the man they say disappeared without a trace into the American immigration system a month ago — and who, for a time, they thought was dead.
The last time anyone in the family saw Leon was June 20, when he went with his wife to a Philadelphia immigration office to have his lost green card replaced.
There, the family says, he was handcuffed by two officers, who led him away without explanation. His wife, who speaks little English, was left behind and kept in the building for 10 hours until she was released to her granddaughter, the family says.
Repeated inquiries to immigration officials, prisons, hospitals and even a morgue yielded no information. Leon’s name was not in ICE’s online database of detainees.
Finally, on Friday, a relative from Leon’s native Chile was told he had been taken first to a detention center in Minnesota and then to Guatemala. The hospital, citing privacy rules, would not verify his presence there when contacted by The Morning Call.
It is unclear whether Leon ended up in that Central American country deliberately or by mistake. A Supreme Court ruling in June reopened the door to the Trump administration’s efforts to deport immigrants to countries that are not their home countries.
Leon was granted political asylum in 1987 after surviving torture at the hands of Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet’s regime, according to his granddaughter, Nataly, who asked that her surname not be used because she fears U.S. government retribution against her and her relatives.
In Allentown, he lived a quiet life, raising four children and enjoying retirement after years working at a leather manufacturing plant.
It all fell apart, Nataly said, when he lost the wallet holding his green card and made the fateful appointment to replace it at the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services office on 41st Street in Philadelphia.
Frustration at not knowing Leon’s whereabouts turned to grief July 9, when a caller informed Leon’s wife that he had died, Nataly said.
A family friend shared the information at that night’s meeting of the Lehigh County Board of Commissioners, where a number of activists had come to urge commissioners to stem ICE activity at the county courthouse.
An ICE official said Friday the agency is investigating the matter but would share no other information, refusing even to confirm that Leon was at the Philadelphia office in June.
Nataly, for her part, has run the gamut from confusion to grief to frustrated rage — often in the course of a few hours — as she has tried to learn her grandfather’s fate.
On Friday, after hearing he was in Guatemala, she tearfully said she wants the world to know how he’s been treated by the immigration system.
“I can see all my family is in pain right now,” she said.
The mystery surrounding Leon’s ordeal goes beyond ICE. Just days after his arrest, a woman claiming to be an immigration lawyer placed an unsolicited call to Leon’s wife and said she could help get Leon out on bail, but didn’t say where he was or how she learned about the case.
It was this woman who called to tell his wife that Leon was dead. A week after communication from the purported lawyer ceased, the family finally received word that Leon had been in detention in Minnesota and then transferred to a hospital in Guatemala City.
Nataly said she intended to fly to Guatemala on Saturday to see her grandfather, whose condition is unknown. He suffers from diabetes, a heart condition and high blood pressure, among other conditions, she said.
Nataly said the man she calls abuelo — Spanish for grandfather — is a well-liked figure around his Allentown neighborhood. He gardens, goes fishing with a close friend and, because he is skilled with tools, functions as a handyman for neighbors who need minor repairs.
The Trump administration’s aggressive deportation program was initially supposed to be directed at undocumented residents who have committed crimes. However, the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, which gathers data on federal immigration enforcement, says the vast majority of people in ICE detention as of July 13 — 40,643 out of 56,816, or 71.5% — have no criminal convictions.
Many of those with convictions were for minor offenses, including traffic violations, the organization said.
Leon, according to his family, never had so much as a parking ticket — a contention borne out by court records.
Staff writer Anthony Salamone contributed to this report.
Originally Published: July 18, 2025 at 6:09 PM EDT