I almost didn't write about Lorenzo Salgado Araujo.
He was shot and killed by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officer on the morning of July 7, 2026, during a traffic stop in Houston, Texas.
And, as I was putting the finishing touches on this column about Lorenzo, It happened again.
On Monday, an ICE agent fatally shot a man in his 20s in Biddeford, Maine. According to the Department of Homeland Security, the individual was given an order to leave the country and "weaponized" his vehicle by driving it toward an officer before he was shot.
Does that sound familiar? Two more migrants killed by ICE, two more agency statements claiming self-defense. We can only imagine the lies and cover-ups that will try to shield the real story about what happened in Maine, the same way the lies and cover-ups are trying to hide the truth about what happened to Lorenzo.
When I first read about Lorenzo, I felt something I'm not proud of: nothing much. A disgusted shrug. And “F-ICE” under my breath. Less of a reaction than I had when Alex Pretti and Renée Good were killed by federal agents in Minneapolis in January.
Then, I moved on to the next story.
Last Friday, speaking on Morning Joe, The Bulwark Managing Editor Sam Stein elaborated on one of his social media posts where he wrote about how numb we’ve all become by treating events that in any other time — a normal time — would be front-page news. He included the death of Lorenzo.
That's when I realized what I had done to Lorenzo Salgado Araujo.
Stein's point was about how repetition doesn't make something like another senseless ICE murder smaller; it just makes us smaller for absorbing it without flinching. And I had to admit: he was talking about me.
How had I become so casual that I clicked forward before taking the time to recognize what happened to Lorenzo?
So I stopped and took a close look at what happened in Houston, because I owe that man more than a disgusted shrug. We all do.
Lorenzo Salgado Araujo was 52 years old. He'd lived in the United States for 35 years. He built a construction company in Houston from nothing, and on the morning of July 7, he was doing exactly what he did most mornings — driving to pick up the last of his crew before heading out to finish work on a row of houses he was building
Ominous, unmarked vehicles began following him. He wasn't even the target of the operation ICE was running that day. His family believes he panicked, not because he was fleeing federal agents, but because he thought someone was trying to steal his van and the tools that were his livelihood.
Let's stop here for a second. If you were being followed by unmarked vehicles, presumably with masked men in the front seats, what would you do? How would you react? I’ll tell you what I’d do: I’d run like hell.
Lorenzo tried, but within minutes, an ICE agent shot him in the torso. He died at the hospital. Three other men in the van, including his brother, were detained.
ICE says he tried to run over an agent with his vehicle and that the shooting was self-defense. ICE's reputation for lying is only exceeded by Donald Trump's.
And a video was released that disputes ICE’s inexcusable explanation.
This is exactly what they did with Pretti, Good and Ruben Ray Martinez, a U.S. citizen shot on South Padre Island last year, whose family's lawyers say that video contradicts the government's account.
How, for all that is good and decent, do we accept these murderous thugs' words as truth? They leap to a lie to defend themselves before any of the facts have even been investigated. That's why we know, right off the bat, that ICE and the Trump administration are lying through their teeth about what happened to Lorenzo.
On Friday, I went back and watched Lorenzo's son standing at a podium telling the public that his father did not want to be remembered as a headline. He wanted people to know his dad was a husband, a father of three, a man who built something out of nothing in this country and who worried, in his final moments, not about federal agents but about thieves coming for his work tools.
That is such a small, deeply human fear from a man who got up before dawn every day to make sure his crew got paid. But instead of stealing his tools, ICE ended Lorenzo's life, robbing his family of their husband and father forever.
When we let ourselves go numb, we forget that Lorenzo is more than a statistic in an ongoing tally of eight deaths during this wave of ICE enforcement. We can't forget that he is flesh and blood.
I think a lot of us did what I did last week and overlooked that fact. That's what makes this moment dangerous. Lorenzo's life matters, just as the lives of those who came before him — and those who will almost certainly follow, like Monday’s death in Maine, matter. They deserve the same grief and the same outrage.
Lorenzo Salgado Araujo was a father, a business owner, a man who spent 35 years building a life in this country. He deserved better than to become someone I scrolled past.