Editorial: Honoring Silverio Villegas González In The Face Of Violence And Fear
By Sara Lindsay, Deputy Editor
On November 1, I joined community members, family, and friends at the corner of Grand Avenue and Emerson Street in Franklin Park, the site where Silverio Villegas González was killed by ICE, to help build an altar in his honor.
I attended alongside neighbors, organizers, and advocates from surrounding towns, including members of Elmwood Park Neighbors United (EPNU), standing together for justice. The gathering took place during Día de los Muertos, a time to remember and celebrate loved ones who have passed.
EPNU is a community action network of organizers, advocates, and neighbors working together to protect, support, and uplift immigrant and vulnerable communities through rapid response, mutual aid, awareness, and advocacy.
Our presence that day was an act of solidarity — to honor Silverio’s life, stand with his loved ones, and affirm that our communities will not be silent in the face of violence and fear.
For those unfamiliar, Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a Mexican holiday celebrated on November 1 and 2 to honor and remember deceased loved ones.
It is a vibrant celebration of life, where families welcome the spirits of their relatives back for a brief reunion. Traditions include creating altars called ofrendas, which are decorated with favorite foods, drinks, photos, and marigolds, and visiting cemeteries to share memories.
On Silverio’s altar, we placed flowers like marigolds, candles, candy, and photos of him. There was papel picado hanging and brightly colored decorations. The altar stood near the spot where Silverio’s life was taken, now transformed into a place of remembrance and resistance.
Many people held handmade signs calling for justice and an end to ICE violence. We faced the street with our signs so passing cars could see them and many drivers honked in support. Some attendees came in costume. After the ceremony, we shared tamales, coffee, and conversation. Someone put on Silverio’s Spotify playlist, and rock music filled the air. (Apparently, he was a rocker and somehow, that detail made it all feel more human, more personal.)
Silverio was 38 years old. He worked as a cook and was a father of two children. He immigrated from Michoacán, Mexico. After an ICE agent killed him on September 12, his death was ruled a homicide by the Cook County Medical Examiner.
Since that day, community members have gathered numerous times to honor his memory.
The altar and the gatherings around his memorial are mournful, but they are also acts of resistance and love. Unfortunately, the memorial has also faced repeated acts of vandalism, flowers and candles stolen or destroyed, signs torn down, and even a custom light-up cross with Silverio’s name stolen from the site.
According to Hijas Del Pueblo, a community action group organized by women in Chicago’s western suburbs, these attacks are recent and ongoing. Each act of vandalism only reinforces how vital it is that we keep showing up to protect the memorial and refuse to let his story be erased.
That is why the community is pushing for the construction of a permanent memorial at the site. A permanent memorial would show what happened will not be forgotten, and that Silverio’s life will always be remembered with dignity.
There is also a growing call for Franklin Park to become a sanctuary city, ensuring that no other family experiences what Silverio’s did. Declaring it a sanctuary means committing to protecting all members of the community. It means saying that no one should have to live in fear that an everyday moment, a drive to work, a walk to school, or a visit to the store could end in violence.
Silverio’s memory is a call to action. There is a GoFundMe campaign to raise funds for a permanent memorial, and there is a petition urging Franklin Park officials to adopt a sanctuary policy. Both efforts are rooted in the same belief that every person deserves safety, dignity, and a place to belong.
As we reflect on Silverio’s life and the injustice that led to his death, let’s keep his name alive.
Let’s visit the memorial, care for it, and protect it. And let’s keep building community, in Franklin Park, Elmwood Park, and beyond, where no one has to fear the people sworn to protect them.
Have you approached one of the property owners to see if you could have it placed on their private property to better protect it? Being on public property, you can expect that some individuals will attempt to vandalize it, making it difficult to protect. People have defaced war memorials for years, and it is a common occurrence in society. I think your direction of a privately funded memorial is your best option, and hopefully, you will receive enough support to cover the costs.