'What We Had Here Was a Family'

"How do you say esperanza? Hope," said Alvarado, a tall Salvadoran with a goatee, shortly before his raffle ticket number was called. "We hope tomorrow is better. Today, we feel sad."

By 10 a.m., the picnic benches were stacked, and the center's weather-beaten trailer was locked. The workers and their advocates set out on Sterling Road, holding up their signs and shouting chants.

They took a right on Elden Street, past a strip mall where people in the parking paused lot to watch. They took another right on Alabama Drive and came to a stop at the edge of the park, near a baseball diamond and across from a patch of townhouses.

More speeches were made, and folk songs were sung in Spanish.

Bill Campenni, a member of the anti-illegal immigration group Help Save Herndon, stood back from the crowd.

"We are relieved that that has now come to an end as an officially sanctioned site. That was our goal from day one," Campenni said. "When we look back over a two-year period, we're overwhelmed by our success."

Employers, he predicted, would not come to the new site, and so neither would workers. But he said that he and other opponents will remain "vigilant that it does not get out of control." Campenni declined to elaborate.

Some workers said they are worried about backlash at the new, more open site; some predicted a return of the disorder that reigned before the official center opened.

Miguel Parada, 54, said he would be at the spot at 7 a.m. each day, as long as work is available.

"Here, this is public," Parada said, pointing to the narrow dirt path as Amador played guitar and led the crowd in "La Bamba." "I don't have any fear."