When Daniel Fuentes Espinal left home Monday morning, he was just going to pick up building supplies. That’s what the longtime Talbot County pastor always did — juggle his unpaid ministry with construction work to support his family.

By afternoon, he was gone. Swept up in what many are calling a racially charged ICE dragnet, Fuentes Espinal is now sitting in a Baltimore detention cell.

His arrest has shaken the Eastern Shore community to its core.

Fuentes Espinal has pastored Iglesia del Nazareno in Easton since 2015. He is a man widely known for his compassion, generosity, and tireless service — despite being undocumented, having fled Honduras in 2001 with his wife and daughter to escape violence. For the past two decades, he has quietly built a life of dignity and service.

Now, that life is in limbo.

“I was going to help my dad and mom get their papers straight,” said Clarissa Fuentes Diaz, his eldest daughter, who was just 8 when they arrived in the U.S. “We waited 16 years. I just got notice I’ll be a citizen. And then this happened.”

The arrest, she said, happened without warning. Her father had driven to a Lowe’s hardware store when he was intercepted by unidentified men. According to Clarissa, ICE agents have increasingly targeted immigrant laborers in the area, often lurking outside hardware stores in the morning.

“I’ve heard stories of them grabbing whoever looks like they fit the profile,” she said. “And this time, it was my dad.”

The timing couldn’t have been worse — or more devastating.

Just weeks ago, Fuentes Espinal had stood at the deathbed of 18-year-old Lucas Foxwell, offering comfort to his grieving family after a fatal car accident. The boy’s father, longtime Easton resident and political strategist Len Foxwell, said Pastor Espinal’s spiritual leadership carried him through the darkest moments of his life.

“He’s a man of enormous faith and humility,” Foxwell said. “He’s not just our pastor — he’s our neighbor, our friend, our lifeline. ICE didn’t just arrest a man. They ripped out part of this community.”

Fuentes Espinal has never been charged with a crime and has spent years trying to rectify his legal status. He leads services, distributes food, shelters the homeless, and has raised three children — two of whom are U.S. citizens.

But none of that spared him from the wave of ICE arrests now sweeping across Maryland.

According to the Deportation Data Project, immigration arrests in the state have nearly tripled in 2025. In the first six months alone, ICE made 1,769 apprehensions — an average of nearly 10 per day. Nearly half of those arrested had no criminal record.

Civil rights groups say the trend is unmistakable — and chilling.

“Detaining a widely respected pastor who has been serving the Maryland community for 20 years while attempting to rectify his legal status sends a chilling message,” said Zainab Chaudhry, Maryland director of the Council on American-Islamic Relations.

CAIR has joined a growing chorus of organizations demanding Fuentes Espinal’s release. So far, the family has received support from Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.), who said in a statement that the Trump administration “isn’t targeting the most dangerous criminals… they are terrorizing our communities in the process.”

The Trump campaign has ramped up ICE enforcement in recent months, dispatching masked agents to homes, work sites, and public spaces. Critics say the tactics are more aggressive than ever, with less transparency and fewer legal protections.

The Fuentes Espinal family says they received no formal notification from ICE, and the phone number given to track detainees is no longer in service. The only update came in a brief call from Daniel himself, telling them he’d spoken to a lawyer and had a court hearing Friday.

Clarissa says the only thing keeping them strong is her father’s unwavering faith.

“God is in control of my life, here, there, anywhere,” he told them. “I’m here doing God’s work, and I’ve been preaching to the six inmates with me in this cell. Maybe this is what I was supposed to go through — to shed light in someone else’s darkness.”

Back in Easton, his congregation continues to meet. They sing, they pray, they wait.

And outside the Lowe’s where he was taken, some say they can still feel the weight of his absence — like a silence that doesn’t belong.

“He’s more than a statistic,” said Foxwell. “He’s our pastor. And we want him home.”