US military and economic intervention in El Salvador has set the conditions for mass migration since the 1980s. Both then and now, despite well-documented human rights abuses, the US government refuses to categorize Salvadorans as refugees. Weaving in personal and political narratives, this essay examines the parallels of violence against refugees in the 1980s and the present. It also analyzes the silences created through the denial of state terror and the political and collective consequences of these silences for Salvadorans in the US.In a recent conversation during a visit to my grandmother's house, my mother mentioned that one of her Facebook friends who lives in San Martín, our hometown in El Salvador, had posted alarming information the night before. Her friend, Amanda, updated her status to relay that gunshots were being fired nearby as opposing gangs were attacking each other. The drama unfolded on Facebook as Amanda continued to post on this thread, asking for prayers and describing how she and her kids hid under the bed to wait out the shooting.Like many people who fled war in a previous era, my mom rarely shared stories with her kids about the state terror she had witnessed. Her Facebook friend's posts, however, got her to reminisce out loud about having been in a very similar situation over thirty years earlier. Upon hearing bombs nearby, like Amanda, she hid in the bedroom with her children; my sister was a newborn and I was almost five years old. Still recovering from giving birth days earlier, my mother recounted, she stood up and felt warm globs of blood sliding down her leg. Amid the surrounding explosions, her & Leisy J. Abrego