Protesters briefly block bus leaving migrant detention center in Texas
Protesters stood in front of the bus and yelled, "Set the children free" and "Shame on you" at Border Patrol officers. The Border Patrol ended up surrounding the bus so it could back up and go out the other end of the street.
CNN reporters could see children through the darkened windows, and a protester told CNN she also saw children through the windows. She said some of the children waved at her and she told them, "You are not alone" in Spanish.
"It was very difficult to see," said Denise Benavides of Dallas, who said she's a member of the League of United Latin American Citizens.
Benavides said she didn't know where the bus was going but "that's something we'll look into -- what's going on and where are they taking these children."
Uniformed officers arrived to calm the situation. McAllen police told CNN nobody was arrested.
The vehicle's destination was unclear.
A US Customs and Border Patrol spokesperson said the bus carried "family groups" being transferred into the custody of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. When asked about the bus's destination, an ICE spokesman recommended contacting Health & Human Services or CBP. HHS said to ask ICE.
Many of the at least 2,300 children separated from their undocumented parents since May are in far-flung shelters and foster homes nationwide -- hundreds of miles away from the southern border.
In many cases, the parents don't know where their children are being held, the parents' lawyers say.
On Wednesday, President Trump signed an executive order reversing his policy and allowing parents and their children to stay together.
US Rep. Jackie Speier, a Democrat from California, and other members of Congress toured the McAllen Customs Border Protection Facility on Saturday. She told CNN she's seen no evidence of a method to reunify parents and children.
"The staff at all the facilities are really operating with no policies," Speier said. "The President, you know, signs an executive order, and then washes his hands of it. That is unacceptable.
"This is on his watch. This is his process. This is his policy he put in place. If you're going to undo it, then you truly have to undo it by making sure that you match every child with every parent."
More than 1,100 immigrants -- including children -- were being held at McAllen when reporters were allowed inside on June 17.
Car drives through crowd protesting police killing of Antwon Rose in Pittsburgh
Four people were arrested as hundreds of demonstrators blocked streets, Allegheny County Police Superintendent Coleman McDonough said.
Police are looking for a black sedan that drove through the crowd late Friday, said Chris Togneri, the city spokesman. No injuries were reported, he said.
Protesters were near PNC Park, where fans were leaving a Pittsburgh Pirates baseball game, when the car drove through, CNN affiliate KDKA reported.
'How do you justify that?'
Antwon Rose, 17, was shot by an officer three times on Tuesday as he attempted to flee a car stopped by police. Rose was one of two passengers in the car, which matched the description of a vehicle that had been involved in an earlier shooting, Allegheny County Police said.
East Pittsburgh Police Officer Michael Rosfeld fired on Rose from behind, hitting him in three spots, police said.
The manner of Rose's death was listed as homicide, the Allegheny County Medical Examiner's Office said.
"Three shots in the back, how you justify that?" protesters chanted Friday.
Demonstrators carrying a sign that read, "Fire killer cops," led hundreds of supporters to the Homestead Grays Bridge, halting traffic for a few hours.
Those arrested face charges for failure to disperse and, at least one, for resisting arrest, McDonough told KDKA.
'He wasn't that boy'
Tia Taylor, who went to high school with Rose, addressed the crowd, offering a heartfelt testimony of him.
"He wasn't the person to be out here doing anything he didn't have no business doing. He wasn't that boy," Taylor, a student at Woodland Hills High School, said through tears.
Friday marked the third night of protests in Pittsburgh. Several groups since Wednesday have shut down highways and intersections across the city.
As it grew dark, police became more visible. Squad cars trailed the crowd, and officers in riot gear formed a tight line, holding batons and blocking protesters' way.
Rosfeld, the officer who shot Rose, had been sworn in to the East Pittsburgh police force just hours before the shooting, though he'd worked with other local departments for seven years, CNN affiliate WPXI reported. He has been placed on administrative leave, police have said.
Allegheny County District Attorney Stephen Zappala does not plan to refer the case to the Pennsylvania attorney general, despite calls for him to do so. Zappala's spokesman, Mike Manko, said in an emailed statement that "the major crimes investigative resources in Allegheny County are more than capable of handling any homicide case."
He wrote that he never wanted his mother to have to bury a son. Then he was killed by police.
Two years ago, Antwon Rose wrote those prescient lines in a poem for his 10th grade honors English class. He titled it, "I am not what you think."
He refused to be "just a statistic," the African-American teenager wrote.
On Tuesday, an East Pittsburgh police officer fatally shot the unarmed 17-year-old, who ran as police stopped a vehicle suspected of being involved in a shooting in a nearby community, the Allegheny County Police said. The officer was placed on administrative leave as the department investigates, police said.
In a few days, Antwon's mother will bury him.
His family released the poem Thursday through the Woodland Hills School District, where he attended school.
Antwon's mother wanted the world to read the poem her son wrote. He wrote about being "confused and afraid," wondering about the path he would take in life. The poem was read aloud at a rally Thursday in front of the Allegheny County Courthouse in Pittsburgh.
"I understand people believe I'm just a statistic," Antwon wrote. "I say to them I'm different."
He dreamed, he wrote, "of life getting easier."
Police kill an unarmed teen running from a car that was linked to an earlier shooting
The Allegheny County Medical Examiner's Office and a family attorney identified the victim as Antwon Rose II of Rankin. Antwon, an African-American, died at a hospital. He had been a passenger in the car, which authorities suspected of being involved in a shooting earlier Tuesday in a nearby community, Allegheny County police said Wednesday.
Protesters on Wednesday converged on East Pittsburgh, the borough southeast of Pittsburgh where the shooting occurred.
Sometime before 8:30 p.m. Tuesday, someone fired nine .40-caliber rounds at a 22-year-old in North Braddock borough, Allegheny County police said. The victim, who returned fire, was struck and taken to a hospital. He was treated and released.
Witnesses, including one who flagged down a police officer, described the vehicle in the shooting. Thirteen minutes later, an East Pittsburgh officer saw a silver Chevy Cruze, which matched the vehicle's description, police said. The officer stopped the car around 8:40 p.m.
The officer ordered the driver out of the car and onto the ground, police said. Antwon and another passenger "bolted" from the vehicle, and the East Pittsburgh officer opened fire, striking Antwon, Allegheny County police said.
Reggie Shuford, executive director of the ACLU of Pennsylvania, said Thursday it appears the East Pittsburgh officer "disregarded the basic humanity of this boy."
"Fleeing from a scene does not give law enforcement the right to indiscriminately shoot young boys or anyone. No one, especially children, should ever fear death at the hands of police. Lethal force should be an absolute last resort, not a first option," his statement said.
In a news conference, Allegheny County Police Superintendent Coleman McDonough said the shooting could be justified if the officer thought there was an imminent threat of death -- to the officer or others -- or if the fleeing suspect posed a threat. But, he said, the district attorney will ultimately decide if it was a justified use of force.
The officers involved weren't wearing bodycams, he said.
'All they did was run'
A witness to the shooting captured it on video that was posted on Facebook.
In the video, a police SUV is seen stopped in the middle of the street as another police car pulls up behind it. Two people are seen running from the Chevy Cruze. Within seconds three shots ring out. The runners appear to drop to the ground.
The woman recording the video says, "Why are they shooting at him?"
"All they did was run and they're shooting at them," the woman said.
The 20-year-old driver of the vehicle was later released, police said. Authorities are still searching for the other passenger.
Antwon was unarmed, McDonough told reporters. Two semiautomatic firearms were recovered from the floor of the vehicle, he said.
McDonough said he was "very confident" the car carrying Antwon was the one involved in the shooting, pointing to "ballistic damage to the rear window."
Based on witness statements, McDonough said, he believes officers gave Antwon verbal commands, but he didn't know the specific command.
Police: Officer fired 3 times, victim struck 3 times
The East Pittsburgh officer fired three times, hitting Antwon three times in various parts of his body, McDonough said.
Allegheny County officials on Thursday identified the officer as Michael Rosfeld, according to an email from the county's director of communications, Amie Downs. CNN has attempted to reach Rosfeld numerous times, but has not been successful.
The officer has been placed on administrative leave, police said. McDonough said on Wednesday that he had not been interviewed.
Asked if the officer is white, McDonough said, "I don't understand what that has to do with the situation."
The officer had worked with other local departments for seven years, CNN affiliate WPXI reported. He had been sworn in that day on the East Pittsburgh police force, Mayor Louis Payne told the station.
Family attorney S. Lee Merritt said Antwon "posed no immediate threat to anyone" because he wasn't armed.
"These facts, without more, simply leave very little room to justify the use of deadly force by this officer," he said in a statement.
East Pittsburgh Police Chief Lori Fruncek, who leads a force of eight patrol officers, couldn't be reached Wednesday.
McDonough said he understands that "in today's atmosphere, any time a young man is killed, there's cause for outrage ... in some areas." He asked for patience with the investigation.
"Some of the initial postings on social media that came out directly after this incident were inaccurate and inflammatory," he said. "I would urge that people in the community give us a chance to conduct an objective investigation."
In a joint statement, Payne, East Pittsburgh police and council, said they were saddened by Antwon's death.
"This is a very stressful time for our community. We are seeking truth and answers but the process takes time. We hope that everyone can respect this process. We will get through this together as a community," the statement said.
'He had this million-dollar smile'
During the Wednesday protest on a rainy evening in East Pittsburgh, people shouted, "Justice now!"
The Woodland Hills School District confirmed Antwon had attended Woodland Hills High School.
"From all accounts, he was a generous, hard-working and highly promising student," Merritt said. Assistant Superintendent Licia Lentz of the school district said Antwon was "a very bright young man" who took advanced placement classes.
"He had this million-dollar smile," she said. "He was gifted and teachers were really trying to mentor him."
Gisele Barreto Fetterman, who owns the Free Store in nearby Braddock, where her husband is mayor, said Antwon volunteered at the shop during the summer of 2015 and regularly came back on Saturdays. She described him as an attentive, mature young man with "such great energy."
The store provides food, toys, clothes, backpacks and other items to members of the community, and Antwon would offer to entertain kids while their parents picked up what they needed, she said.
"He was just a really great kid. He had these really intense, big eyes. He was very smiley, very goofy," Fetterman said.
Antwon also worked at a gym where Fetterman's children took gymnastics classes, she said.
"I just expected he would always pop in and update us on what's going on. I think about how his life was cut short and all the things we won't see him do and all of the dreams we will never see him achieve and it's a really sad day," she said.
Foster mother describes trauma of kids separated from parents at the border
Two-year-old Nicole couldn't stop crying and would only repeat two words in Spanish over and over again: "mama" and "grandma."
"This one was different. The overall sheer terror of the screaming was different," foster mother Michelle said. "It was pretty horrific"
The little girl with big brown eyes and floppy curls had come from El Salvador with her mother. They had been separated by US authorities sometime after crossing the US border with Mexico.
Suddenly, Nicole found herself being sent hundreds of miles away to a stranger's home in a strange place called Michigan. She is one of the more than 2,300 children who were caught up in the Trump administration's "zero tolerance policy" toward undocumented immigrants. The policy effectively forced immigration authorities to separate children -- even babies -- from their parents.
CNN is only identifying the children and their foster mom by one name for privacy and security concerns.
When the family initially met Nicole, she was "shell shocked." But the next day the fear welled up inside the child and erupted whenever her foster mom left her side. Even if she moved just a couple of feet away.
'One of the most traumatized'
"She was one of the most traumatized." Michelle said. "We pretty much couldn't do anything without holding her. It was intense screaming and crying, more of a terror screaming. Very freaked out that I wasn't going to come back."
The little girl was afraid of losing everything all over again, Michelle said. Just like she has done dozens of times before, Michelle began to form a bond with the child. So did the three US-born children Michelle and her husband adopted.
Nicole began to relax into her new but temporary family life. If she was held just right, in a certain position, her tense little body would unfold and she'd become a typical cuddly toddler.
She kept calling Michelle "Leyla" -- which the family figured out was actually abuela, the word for grandmother in Spanish. Then Nicole began to mimic and pick up words. The family discovered Nicole loved being in the water. The toddler would completely calm down when they took a dip together.
But the trauma was always present.
The first time Nicole's mom called, foster mom Michelle wished she wasn't there listening. "I could have lived a lifetime without hearing this," Michelle said, her voice cracking with emotion. As soon as the mother and toddler were connected, Nicole's mom was "uncontrollably sobbing and crying. She was just saying 'I love you, I love you.'"
But Nicole shut down. She couldn't face her mother's sorrow. She looked away in silence. Still, her mother kept trying to make sure her toddler knew that she wanted her back desperately. "That was horrible for me as a parent to hear," Michelle said, her voice shaking with emotion.
Family bonds broken
Michelle and her husband have been foster parents for five years. She was a teacher who decided her calling was to take care of children in a different way. The family began taking part in the foster care system with children from the United States. They adopted three children who are now 18, 15, and 11.
Just when they were about to walk away from the foster care system, they got a call. "It was a blessing." It was Bethany Christian Services asking if they would like to begin fostering refugees and immigrant children.
They now know the drill well. The phone rings. Someone from Bethany Christian Services is calling. The organization helps provide for foster children, including matching them with families.
The voice on the other end of the phone asks, "Will you take a child?" The age of the child is given. And the child's expected arrival time. Usually you only have 24 hours' notice. For Michelle and her family, the answer is almost always "yes."
Five years, 107 children
"Sometimes they come in with no way to contact their family. Other times they have little pieces of paper with numbers and names written on them so that they can make contact. The papers are sometimes tucked away in their shoes," Michelle said.
In five years, Michelle and her husband have fostered 107 children, 13 from the United States, the rest from other countries. Each time, the children react differently to their new surroundings and their temporary home.
But some things stay the same: they all need comfort, love, and assurance that everything is going to be alright. In the past few months they have noticed a change in the level of the children's trauma.
"I have to tell the children, whenever I have to go somewhere and drop them off, that I will be back. I have to reassure them," Michelle said.
In past years it was very rare to foster very young children, Michelle said. But a few months ago the ages of the foster children dropped, and their trauma seemed far more acute. There was 2-year-old Nicole, and 4-year-old Mauricio, and 3-year-old Paula. All showed up at the border with parents but were separated from them.
Forming ties that must be broken
When 3-year-old Paula arrived, she didn't seem to speak English or Spanish. She spoke an indigenous language. No one in the house could understand her, except that she would cry out for her mother all the time.
She also wasn't eating much at all, Michelle said. With the help of a translator Michelle figured out Paula was still being breast fed.
"We communicated by pointing for a while," Michelle said. "She would just stare out of the window and want to go outside all the time. She thought if she was outside her mother could find her more easily."
But when fluent Spanish speakers would come into the foster home, suddenly the little girl would light up. "She would immediately go to them and start talking. 'They take me from mom, please take me back to my mom.' She would cling to them. When she realized that they weren't going to take her, she would come back to me and go quiet."
Eventually Paula was reunited with a parent.
Praise and judgment
Then there was 4-year-old Mauricio. He handled things differently. He was a ball of fun and energy when they first picked him up.
"He had a huge personality. It was like a party waiting to happen the minute we picked him up," Michelle said. But as the weeks went by and his mom still wasn't around, things changed.
"He was like 'okay I am done, I am ready to go with my mom now.' The behavior was starting to change when he realized this was not a summer vacation."
The little boy began having outbursts, like every single child who's hurting and confused and scared. Mauricio was extremely resilient, though -- and he was eventually reunited with family.
When Michelle and her husband first started fostering children, the local community reacted with praise and kindness. But as the political climate has changed, so have the comments. Not from everyone, but enough that it stings.
"We will get comments that 'you should be taking care of American kids.' Kids that are here already. That is true," Michelle said. And they have. But the comments don't stop there.
"They will start rattling off stuff on their opinion on Trump or the wall or their opinion on illegal immigrants," she said. "Or they comment that the kids should be learning English."
Michelle has decided to be more selective about who she tells now. She wants to protect the children and her own emotional well-being.
She is careful about what she reads and how much news she watches. In the end, she says she has to be emotionally and physically present for the kids, and for her family that is an ever-changing kaleidoscope of cultures, languages, and most of all, love. That is her mission. Everything else can be pushed aside.
'These are children'
"Our faith plays a huge role in what we have been doing from the beginning," Michelle said. But she has a message for those who try to talk to her foster children harshly.
"No matter how you feel about immigration, these are children," she said. "Keep your adult comments to yourself."
Michelle still believes deeply in what she is doing. She has a booklet that the family keeps with the names and something special about each child she has fostered. It gives her peace and joy to look at it sometimes.
She believes in her mission, her Christian faith, and the power of love for children who are caught in the middle of a political fight. Her latest arrival is a 5-year-old boy who came in just a day ago. She still doesn't know his whole story. A typical stay is a couple of months, sometimes shorter. One child has been at the home for a year and is in school.
Michelle has had to say goodbye to dozens of children she has come to care so much about -- including Nicole. She rejoices that families are reuniting. But it isn't easy to see a child traumatized one more time before they are back with their loved ones.
When she handed Nicole over, she felt a flash of fresh pain go through her heart. All the fear flooded back into the toddler's body. All the trust vanished when she realized she was being left -- again.