Anou Vongbandith, 51, the chef at Germantown’s Das Good Café, was driving to work on the sweltering morning of July 26, 2025, when masked men from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) boxed in his car, then abducted him. They soon sent Vongbandith to the Moshannon Valley Processing Center in Philipsburg, Pennsylvania, a facility equipped with the barbed wire and other features of the federal prison it once was.
Detainees have sickened and died at Moshannon, and the clock was ticking for Vongbandith. Due to a bout with COVID-19, “[his] heart pumps only 27 percent of the normal volume of blood, and he didn’t have his medications,” says Anh Vongbandith, his wife of 25 years and owner of Das Good. “Also, ICE aims to deport people within 30 days of detaining them.” There was talk of returning Anou to Laos, his birthplace, though he has lived in the U.S. since the age of 5.
Anou’s arrest incensed many Northwest Philly residents. The Vongbandiths have become beloved members of that community, first through Tipsy Café and Catering, a takeout spot at 5227 Germantown Ave., then with Das Good, a spacious café on the West Chelten Avenue corridor that offers breakfast and brunch classics, often with an Asian twist.
“Anh never says no,” says Michael Lazrus, a longtime Germantown peace activist. “She provides food and a meeting place, even after ICE detained Anou,” he says, adding that the Vongbandiths give their food overages to nearby pantries. The family also serves up hundreds of free Thanksgiving dinners each year, Lazrus says.
Anh’s community involvement extends even further. “I can’t see animals put to sleep,” she says. “Right now we’re fostering four kittens and one puppy at home.”
People took Anou’s arrest personally, Anh believes. “It was as if they said, ‘No way are you going to keep our chef!’”
Northwest neighbors joined Anh in racing against Anou’s looming deportation. Reclaim Philadelphia, Indivisible Philadelphia, the Northwest Immigration Network (NWIN) and other groups spread news of Anou’s arrest. “I learned about Anou’s detention within a day or two,” says Mt. Airy attorney Judi Bernstein-Baker, founder of NWIN. Bernstein-Baker, retired executive director of HIAS-PA, is known in Philly’s immigrant advocacy circles for her staggering pro bono caseload. She alerted NWIN members to Anou’s imprisonment through her weekly digital newsletter.
Reclaim Philadelphia, which campaigns for economic, racial and gender justice, soon got involved. Executive director Seth Anderson-Oberman and Jason Massey, leader of Reclaim’s Northwest chapter, met with Anh, who told them that bringing attention to Anou’s abduction would be a big help.
After strategizing with Anh, NWIN, Reclaim and other groups planned a rally for Aug. 9, 2025 to draw attention to Anou’s plight and push for his release.
For Anou, it couldn’t come too soon. “The food [at Moshannon] was slop,” he says. “We were packed in like sardines. It was like a concentration camp,” says Anou, who got one of his medications after a month. It took two months for him to receive the second, more expensive one.
Even with Northwest neighbors behind them, the Vongbandiths faced tough odds. Legal complications began for the family when they lived in Florida about 20 years ago. Their older daughter, then 15, was in a relationship with a 21-year-old man, Anh says. When Anou threatened to press charges against him, the 21-year-old’s family made allegations of sexual abuse against Anou and Anh, Anh says. “My husband took a plea for something he didn’t do because his lawyer said that there was no chance that a jury in Lake County, which is largely white, would find him not guilty,” Anh adds. “Anou has to report to ICE twice a year, which he’s been doing. That case cost us our home and our business. We came to Philadelphia in 2014 for a new start.”
ICE arrested Anou because, although he was checking in every six months as his Florida sentence required, the agency was pursuing immigrants with criminal records.
At first, no lawyer would touch Anou’s deportation appeal. “The first four firms I spoke with said they couldn’t help,” Anh says. “The fifth one agreed to represent him.” It cost between $300 and $800 just for a consultation, according to Jade, Anh’s and Anou’s younger daughter.
Meanwhile, plans for the demonstration kicked into high gear. Word of the rally spread through NWIN’s newsletter and hyperlocal newsroom Germantown Info Hub, as well as churches, synagogues and other groups. Neighbors helped.
“As I am partially disabled, I did a lot [of organizing] via social media, email, texting and phoning,” says Reclaim Philadelphia member Ann Doley, who also made graphics and posters. Lazrus, a trainer in nonviolent de-escalation, assisted with safety plans for the gathering. Businesses from bakeries to barbershops put flyers in their windows saying “Bring Anou home.” Charles and Kathy Sutton, owners of G Town Tees, donated 100 T-shirts with an image of Anou’s face.
Anh’s determination [to bring Anou home] was one of the most amazing acts of love I’ve ever seen. She was like a pitbull: ‘You are not going to take my husband!”
— Charles Sutton, owner, G Town Tees
“Anh’s determination [to bring Anou home] was one of the most amazing acts of love I’ve ever seen,” Charles Sutton says. “She was like a pitbull: ‘You are not going to take my husband!’”
The rally’s turnout shocked Anh. “I thought we might get 50 people, but between 500 and 700 came,” she says. “Senator Art Haywood spoke. So did [state Rep.] Chris Rabb, although we’re not even in his district.”
The rally garnered the desired media attention, but the family still faced crushing financial pressure. “When a breadwinner is put in detention, it can leave the family at risk for becoming homeless,” Bernstein-Baker says.
Anh juggled the challenges. She became store manager at Weavers Way Co-op in Mt. Airy this spring and hired two additional staff members at Das Good. Jade moved from Virginia to Philadelphia with her fiancée to work at the café. Anh also got a couple of high-interest loans to keep Das Good going.
Given the thousands of dollars needed to file each legal motion, Jade also launched a GoFundMe account. “We raised $86,000,” she says. “The money went for legal fees. The account is still open to update donors.”
Besides contributing to the fund, neighbors kept stepping up in other ways. “We called the lawyer to know when community support would make a difference,” Anderson-Oberman says. Two weeks after the rally, that strategy led to organizing a trip to Moshannon Valley to keep Anou in the spotlight, with Reclaim filling a bus with organizers and supporters.
Northwest residents also dropped by Das Good to write postcards to Anou to remind him he wasn’t alone. In May 2026, The Associated Press reported on spiking suicide rates among ICE detainees. Chaofeng Ge, a 32-year-old Chinese citizen imprisoned at Moshannon Valley, committed suicide on Aug. 5, 2025, less than two weeks after Anou’s arrival.
Doley also succeeded in recruiting neighbors to write hundreds of letters attesting to Anh’s good character to Judge Richard Bailey, assigned to hear Anou’s case. Besides that, Doley recruited 83 neighbors to attend Anou’s bond hearing via Zoom. Bailey found that Anou did not represent a threat to the community or a flight risk, and he was released Oct. 29.
Upon leaving Moshannon Valley, Anou received a standing ovation from fellow detainees. “He was the first one to return home,” Anh says.
But the story hasn’t ended. Anou’s green card, taken after his conviction in Florida, has been returned to him. However, the Vongbandiths are awaiting a hearing date. “We are seeing if the judge will drop Anou’s case and end it,” Anh says. “If not, we will continue with me as his sponsor for permanent residency,” says Anh, an American citizen.
Nevertheless, with Anou’s release, the family cleared a tall hurdle. They celebrated by inviting Northwest neighbors to a Friendsgiving feast in November at the First United Methodist Church of Germantown, serving more than 700 free meals with turkey and all the trimmings.
“There are people worse off than us,” Anh says. “They’ve been deported. Families have been torn apart. This is not just about Anou, but every family like ours.”
Even while feeling gratitude, Anh and Anou still grapple with anxiety. “If we stop fighting now, we lose everything again, our home, our café,” she says. “The biggest thing about immigration [struggles] is to ask for help. If you fight with help, the impossible is possible.”
