Fabian Schmidt, who is originally from Germany, made it clear that he’s proud to be in America, but said he’s still reeling from his unexpected two-month detention that he described as “dehumanizing.”
The permanent legal resident, who has lived in New Hampshire since 2022, was stopped at Logan International Airport on March 7 after visiting family in Europe. He spoke to GBH News on Tuesday about the experience and trying to readjust back to his normal life after his release.
U.S. Customs and Border Protection didn’t return a request for comment for this story but has previously denied Schmidt’s allegations of mistreatment at Logan. And while GBH News was unable to independently confirm many of the details of Schmidt’s story, it was clear that he was significantly impacted by what happened.
“Once you’ve had such a traumatic experience, it kind of comes with — I would say some sort of postpartum scares and stuff like that, so I’m still very, like, shook. That’s the best word.”
The 34-year-old described arriving at Logan and showing his recently renewed green card to a CBP officer. He was told to go to another security checkpoint where he walked into a room that he called “the interrogation room.”
“As soon as I stepped foot in there, I started getting violently interrogated, verbally abused,” he said.
Schmidt said he was asked about his criminal record, which he said includes a drug misdemeanor in California in 2016, which was later dismissed, and a DUI the same year that resulted in fines and probation.
He said he was strip searched, his smart watch taken, and denied the opportunity to telephone a lawyer, the German embassy, or family. Then the questions began: how much money did he have in his account; what did his parents do for a living; where did they live.
Hours passed before a supervisor decided he was “inadmissible” and couldn’t be released because he has a green card.
“He told me I was a flight risk and that he was scared that I would enter through a southern border,” Schmidt recounted. “I tried reminding him that I’m from Germany, I have a good family, none of us would ever sneak into a border, nor do I need to sneak into the border. I’m a legal permanent resident that’s lived here for 18 years.”
Still at Logan, he was given a thin mat to sleep on, a cup of noodles with cold water in it and a water bottle. A little over three hours later, he was woken up for more questions. Schmidt believes it was the third day when he was informed that agents had to give him a shower. He said he felt like he was running a fever at that point and didn’t want one without a towel, fearing it would make him feel worse.
“They didn’t care. Two men brought me to this back room, made me strip down naked and tossed me into this freezing cold shower and then gave me a camping towel,” he said, describing it as something you couldn’t “dry an infant in.”
He was put back in the chair, wet, and asked more questions.
“I was shaking the whole time,” he said.
Schmidt eventually fainted going to the bathroom and remembers collapsing and hitting the ground hard. When he woke up, he told an agent he needed to go to the hospital.
“He said, 'Oh, you’re just gonna med out like everybody, huh?’ That’s the verbatim words. I was like, 'Med out? I don’t even know what that means,'” Schmidt recounted, finding out later it meant someone who physically breaks down under stress.
He was taken to Massachusetts General Hospital, handcuffed to the bed, and treated for the flu and a high fever for six hours. Schmidt described being given a medical assessment that would have warranted privacy, but CBP officers wouldn’t leave the room. A doctor said he needed rest and a place to recuperate. Instead he was brought back to the Logan Airport holding area.
“They took me back into that same room that I was just talking about earlier. I was put back in the same chairs. Another grueling 18 hours went by,” he said.
Schmidt was told he might get a temporary green card and be allowed to leave with an immigration court date. Two hours later, a supervisor walked into the room.
“He said, 'You’re not effing going home, you are staying here, you’re going to go somewhere where there’s lots of immigrants, a hospital and a gym.”’
At this point, Schmidt said he was in a secluded cell with feces on the toilet. That’s when he began to pound on the door.
“I said, 'Call the embassy! Show me that you’re calling my embassy because I know my rights!”’
A few hours later he was put into the back of a white cruiser, hands and feet shackled, and transported to the Donald W. Wyatt Detention Facility in Central Falls, Rhode Island. Schmidt described being made fun of by CBP agents, being asked why he hadn’t become a U.S. citizen, and some “inappropriate jokes” being made about him.
“It was degrading, it’s dehumanizing. It is horrendous,” he recalled. “People shouldn’t be treated like that, especially when they’re in distress.”
Once he arrived at Wyatt, some four days after he was detained, Schmidt was able to call his mother. He was put in a cell with another man who, he was told, had committed murder. He described Wyatt as different from the airport, that the corrections officers there were professional and didn’t make fun of him.
“They’re just doing their job,” he said.
He remembers a fight breaking out among prisoners his first day, and being stuck in his cell for hours while still dealing with flu symptoms. He was given an electronic tablet, and started communicating with Bhavani Hodgkins, his now fiancée, about his case. They hired his attorney, David Keller. Hodgkins and family paid for his phone communications and read letters of support over the phone.
“A lot of times I was crying because I couldn’t believe the support I was receiving,” Schmidt said.
Still, the whole time he believe he would be deported.
“All I saw was people getting deported. I didn’t see one person leave,” he said.
Weeks passed.
Last Thursday, he received a message from Hodgkins just before he was scheduled to appear remotely before an immigration judge. She told him he would be freed and he didn’t believe it.
Schmidt was put in shackles and placed in a black van, unsure of where he was headed next.
He ended up in Burlington, Mass. at the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement processing facility, where Hodgkins was waiting for his release.
“She [Bhavani] ran into my arms. I was just ecstatic as I finally got I hug her— It was a big moment to breathe fresh air and to have your partner back.”
Schmidt has a daughter and is an electrical engineer. When he wasn’t working, he was “involve with his fiancée and has a dog,” and, drawing on his past struggles with sobriety, volunteered helping people going through sober living and looking for housing and jobs.
He said when he reflects on his life up to his detention, it’s an uneasy feeling to have it ripped away unexpectedly.
“I took a lot of that stuff for granted, so my life was amazing. Definitely now I would say that, because of coming out of having been detained, looking back at it, I’m a very blessed man, to be honest with you.”
Hodgkins, his mother and Schmidt have an ongoing GoFundMe campaign for his legal fees and to help make up for missed work — he estimates losing at least $70,000. He said he does plan to file a lawsuit against the government.
He also wants to use funds in the future for “bigger picture things, that’s gonna be something that adds transparency to the system.”
He said his loved ones had no idea where he was, where he was being held, and that families shouldn’t be “lied to on the phone.” He wants to change that somehow.
While in detention, he said he encountered people with significant criminal records who were there for good reason. But he also said there were many people there for no apparent reason.
“I love this country and the people in it so much — but I’ll tell you, the system is broken,” Schmidt said. “I think that we need to stand together strongly and ensure that we can fix this system and do proper legal work, because at the end of the day, when you hold your hand on your chest and you say 'liberty and justice for all,' it should mean something to all of us.”
