By Luis Andres Henao and Jessie Wardarski Associated Press
At the end of his Sunday service, the pastor of the First Haitian Evangelical Church of Springfield, Ohio, asked ushers and musicians to form a circle around him as he knelt in prayer, flanked by the flags of Haiti and the United States.
Many had come to receive his blessing and hear his guidance on how to deal with federal agents in case of raids stemming from President Donald Trump’s crackdown on immigration. Other congregants stayed home out of fear and growing uncertainty.
“I asked God to protect my people,” the Rev. Reginald Silencieux said after the service, reflecting on his final prayer. “I prayed especially for the Haitian community, and I prayed for U.S.A. too, because Trump is our president. As a church, we have an obligation to pray for him because he’s our political leader right now.”
Some of Springfield’s estimated 15,000 Haitians are seeking solace and divine intervention in their churches or at shops that sell spiritual products. Community leaders say many are overwhelmed by fears Trump will end or let expire the Temporary Protected Status program that allows them to remain in the U.S. legally.
Last year, Trump falsely accused Haitians in Springfield of eating their neighbor’s cats and dogs. The false rumors exacerbated fears about division and anti-immigrant sentiment in the mostly white, blue-collar city of about 59,000.
In the weeks after his comments, schools, government buildings and the homes of elected officials were targeted with dozens of bomb threats.
The Rev. Philomene Philostin, one of the pastors at the First Haitian Evangelical Church, bemoaned the lower-than-usual attendance at Sunday’s service.
“They don’t have to be scared. They have to be alert,” she said. “They shouldn’t be scared to the point where they don’t come to church.”
The migration concerns of clergy and other community members in Springfield are shared by many faith leaders nationwide. In several cities, including New York, Philadelphia and Portland, Oregon, interfaith groups are discussing how to provide security and support to migrants in their communities, including those who are undocumented.
During his first administration, Trump used bluntly vulgar language to question why the U.S. would accept immigrants from Haiti and “shithole countries” in Africa. His 2024 campaign focused heavily on illegal immigration, often referring in his speeches to crimes committed by migrants.
Thousands of temporary Haitian migrants have legally landed in Springfield in recent years under the TPS program, as longstanding unrest in their home country has given way to violent gangs ruling the streets.
“Everything changed because Trump is president. People are scared right now. Most are staying in their homes — they don’t want to go outside,” said Romane Pierre, 41, who settled in Springfield in 2020 under the TPS program after fleeing violence in his native Haiti.
Last year, his 8-year-old daughter got ill in the middle of the night. Gunshots rang in their neighborhood in the capital of Port-Au-Prince, and her mother felt it was too dangerous to take her to the hospital. She died in the morning in front of the hospital entrance. Pierre couldn’t get a permit on time to return for her funeral.
“Sometimes, life is difficult,” he said pensively on a break from work.
The TPS, which allows him and thousands of others to remain legally in Springfield, expires on February 2026. He still hopes Trump will keep in mind the violence in Haiti and renew it.
“Think about Haitians because Haiti is not a place to return to right now,” he said. “God, talk to Mr. Trump and do something for Haitians.”
The migrants’ fears were echoed by the president of Haiti’s transitional presidential council, who said the Trump administration’s decisions to freeze aid programs, deport migrants and block refugees will be “catastrophic” for Haiti.
