EMT Who Rebuilt His Life After Prison May Lose Everything After Police Shooting
Sept. 17--For nearly 10 years, Michael Arquero built a new life after leaving prison. He changed his name, found a job he loved, married a woman he loved even more, had two sons and settled into a nice home in Avondale, away from the streets where he ran with gangs.
But a split-second decision last weekend threatens to tear all that apart.
Arquero, 33, was at a food stand in the Humboldt Park neighborhood on Sept. 9 because his pregnant wife had a late-night craving for tacos, according to police and his family. Just before midnight, a Honda Civic circled the 2500 block of West Division Street two or three times before someone inside the car started shooting, hitting Arquero, according to police and court records.
Arquero fired back, killing the 18-year-old driver, police said. Two plainclothes officers heard the gunfire, pulled up and fired at Arquero, possibly hitting him, according to police.
Arquero, an EMT who works for a private ambulance company, began treating himself at the scene and was taken to Stroger Hospital, where he underwent surgery for four gunshot wounds. His wife said Arquero often works in the Englewood neighborhood and although he can't carry it while on duty, he wanted the weapon for protection in a violent city.
When the shooting started, "His first instinct was, 'I have people here I have to protect,'" said Melissa Arquero, who is nearly six-months-pregnant with the couple's third child. "He's not a bad guy whatsoever. He doesn't take lives, he saves them. He puts others' needs before his."
Arquero's troubles only began with his being shot, however.
Police sought to charge him with first-degree murder, but prosecutors declined, calling the shooting self-defense. But the state's attorney's office did agree to charge him with unlawful use of a weapon by a felon.
The charge, including the word felon, was a surprise to his wife, who had no idea the man she married used to go by the name Michael Travisano -- or that Travisano's arrest record includes a conviction for attempted murder and aggravated assault of a police officer that sent him to prison for five years, according to court records.
"That is not the person I know. Michael Arquero is the man I married. The family man. I don't know that other person," said Melissa Arquero, who changed her name from Betancourt and took her husband's last name when they married.
Melissa Arquero drove her husband to some of the classes he took to get his concealed-carry permit. Despite his arrest record, he was able to buy a gun and get the permit, a certificate for which hangs on the couple's refrigerator, she said.
Michael Arquero dropped the surname associated with his criminal history when he got out of prison in 2008, taking his mother's maiden name, according to his family and records on file with the Cook County clerk's office.
A year later he married Melissa Betancourt while living with his mother in New Jersey, records show. The couple eventually moved into a home in Avondale owned by his wife's parents. Arquero attended EMT training classes at Malcolm X College and got a job with ATI Ambulance, which said it became aware of his record after he was hired.
ATI coordinator Cindy Briere interviewed Arquero for his job at ATI. Back then, Arquero had a gang tattoo on his neck. They grew up in nearby neighborhoods, he in Humboldt Park, she in Logan Square. She knew what the tattoo was about.
"I know he had some significant gang involvement when he was younger ... I told him if he even wanted to be considered for an EMT position it needed to be covered up," she said.
The next time she saw him, the gang tattoo on his neck was covered up, replaced with a tattoo of a panther. That's how serious he was about starting a new life, she said. He was on the right path, and meeting his wife a few years later and starting their family only reinforced that.
"When do you hear about a gangbanger who actually changed his outlook and his way of life? To now be in this situation, where he's worked so hard to avoid exactly this, but now here he is," Briere said. "In a way, I feel like this one night kind of negates all that, 10 years of his life."
Officially, Chicago police have not released many details from that night at Guerrero's Tacos and Pizza, and have not said why they sought murder charges even though court records indicate Arquero was shot first.
Melissa Arquero said she and her husband had been at a wedding Friday night; Briere was there, too. Michael Arquero almost never danced, his wife said, but that night he made an exception and danced with the bride, a close friend. The couple already had a babysitter and Briere said she prodded Mike to take his wife out for a fancy late-night dinner, but with her pregnancy cravings, the pair had been talking about getting tacos all day, Melissa Arquero said. So Arquero dropped her off at home, then drove down California Avenue to the small restaurant at Division and Maplewood.
Arquero was standing with his sister and his sister's friend when the Civic rolled past around 11:30 p.m. and someone inside the car opened fire, according to police and court records. There had been some kind of commotion at the restaurant earlier, according to a law enforcement source familiar with the investigation.
Arquero was hit and fired back with a 9 mm handgun, "subsequently shooting and killing" the driver of the car, 18-year-old Louis A. Rodriguez, according to a police report and court records. Rodriguez died on the scene and the passenger fled.
Two gang investigations officers heading away from the restaurant heard the shots and made a U-turn, the source said. They ordered Arquero to drop the gun, but he wouldn't stop firing, the source said. "In fear for their lives and that of the general public, the officers fired their duty weapons," the police report said. It was unclear if the officers hit him.
While Arquero was under guard at Stroger, police sought murder charges, but they were rejected, according to Cook County state's attorney spokeswoman Tandra Simonton, who said the office determined Arquero shot in self-defense.
"This was not murder," she said. Instead, Arquero was charged with unlawful use of a weapon by a felon because of his record.
Chicago and state police issued a statement Friday afternoon saying they were investigating how Arquero was able to get a concealed-carry permit under his new name when a fingerprint check should have uncovered his record under his previous name.
Arquero, in a wheelchair, appeared in court Friday morning on the charge. It was the first time he saw his wife since Saturday at the hospital. Arquero smiled a little and lifted his right hand and waved.
He wore a yellow jail jumpsuit and had bandages on his left calf and foot, his neck and on one of his arms. He said only, "Yes, ma'am," when Judge Ann O'Donnell asked him if he had asked for a different attorney.
Minutes later, Arquero again waved as a deputy slowly turned his wheelchair and pushed him back to the lockup.
This has been a double shock for Melissa Arquero, a health-care supervisor. Concerns about his well-being overshadow any hint of concern about her husband's name change. Learning of
his arrest history hasn't changed how she feels about him.
"Who doesn't have a past?" she asked the Tribune in an interview. "He became a man that's a law-abiding citizen. He's like a cuddly teddy bear. When you have his friendship, he's so loyal. He's loyal to his medic friends, to his cop friends. He's redeemed himself.
"He's done great for his family," she continued. "He changed his whole life around and not a lot of people can do that. He has a great job -- not just doing anything -- but saving lives. I'm in love with him. He's my best friend and he's been with me in the good and bad times. There's nothing I could hear that would change that. The other person, that's not who I know. It honestly doesn't matter to me. "
After the hearing, Melissa Arquero questioned the actions of the police, saying bullets from the officers struck her husband in the back. "They shot a medic," she said.
Melissa Arquero said her younger son, 4, has autism and keeps asking about his father. She told her oldest son, who is 8, that his father was injured at work.
Arquero's 33rd birthday was Wednesday, and the oldest son asked if they could bring a birthday cake to him. They were not allowed, but Melissa Arquero said her husband called her and they spoke briefly before he broke down. He was so upset, he couldn't talk to his son, she said.
Arquero had never requested his birthday off work before, but because Wednesday was also the day a doctor was going to reveal the sex of their baby, Melissa Arquero said he asked for the night off so the whole family could go out to celebrate news of the girl she hopes they'll have or the third boy he's sure they'll have.
The baby is due Feb. 14, so the couple has been calling the child "our little love baby," Melissa Arquero said. They've pushed back the ultrasound date until Arquero gets home.
"It's been a rough week," she said. "Everything happened so quickly."
Chicago Tribune's Megan Crepeau contributed.
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