'Minnesota nice' extends to neighbors, but not to ICE agents, residents say, after shooting deaths of two locals at the hands of immigration agents.
MINNEAPOLIS ‒ Hands trembling in the subzero cold, Tasha Crazybull flicked her lighter again and again and again until the bundle of dried sage caught flame.
As the dried plants began wafting fragrant smoke into the frigid air, Crazybull cupped her hands and drew it over her head in a ritual long used to bring purification and positive energy.
Around her clustered dozens of other mourners who also came to Nicolett Avenue to pay respects at the site where federal immigration agents on Jan. 24 shot and killed Alex Pretti.
Pretti, an ICU nurse at the Veterans Administration, was attending a protest against immigration enforcement, and his death has sparked a fresh nationwide debate about how President Donald Trump’s administration is carrying out plans for the largest mass deportation in history.
In a community known as "Minnesota nice," the violence that has erupted on the city's street has trigged anger, grief and feelings of helplessness.
Residents have been tailing immigration agents, honking horns, blowing whistles and at times physically intervening to try to prevent agents from detaining people suspected of living illegally in the United States.
An estimated 50,000 locals marched in the streets on Friday, Jan. 23, staying home from work and school to participate in a general strike.
And angry protesters on the night of Jan. 25 vandalized and tried to break into a hotel where they believed immigration agents were staying.
"Everyone's just hurting right now," said Crazybull, who lives a few miles away from where Pretti was killed.
Pretti was carrying a licensed concealed firearm, and federal officials have blamed him for being shot, though videos indicate he never drew the weapon.
Earlier this month, immigration agents also shot and killed a Minneapolis mother, Renee Good, behind the wheel of her car.
Both Good and Pretti were American citizens. And in both cases, video of their deaths appeared to show they were the victims, not the aggressors, in the abrupt confrontations with immigration enforcers.
In the days before the shootings, White House officials deployed approximately 3,000 federal immigration enforcers from Immigration and Customs Enforcement and the U.S. Border Patrol to Minneapolis as part of "Operation Metro Surge."
While Chicago; Charlotte, North Carolina, and New Orleans have been the focus of similar enforcement efforts over the past several months, Minneapolis has seen a far larger deployment and more sustained attention.
That has been driven in part by the president's assertions that Somali immigrants have been defrauding the government of billions of dollars. The majority of Minneapolis' Somali population was either born in the United States or have become citizens, though Trump has threatened to denaturalize those directly involved in the fraud.
Minnesota is also home to Gov. Tim Walz, a Democrat who was the vice presidential nominee during the 2024 presidential election. The two have clashed repeatedly but on Jan. 26 said they had a productive phone call in which they agreed to increased cooperation.
The president agreed to help ensure an independent investigation into the shootings, "as would ordinarily be the case,” according to a statement released by Walz' office. “The president also agreed to look into reducing the number of federal agents in Minnesota and working with the state in a more coordinated fashion on immigration enforcement regarding violent criminals."
'Minnesota nice' has its limits
On Nicolett Avenue near where Pretti died, new mom Leah Thompson, 31, held a sign on Sunday, Jan. 25, demanding that federal immigration enforcers leave the city.
Nearby, another woman held a sign referencing the state's unofficial motto, "Minnesota nice," combined with a profane abbreviation telling ICE agents to depart. Thompson said it's telling that in a state where people are known for being nice, tens of thousands have taken to the streets in protest.
They are living up to their "nice" reputation in other ways. Crazybull said families at her children's school are helping each other with errands and pickups if they don't feel comfortable leaving home.
Across the city, restaurants have put up flyers banning ICE from entering without a judicial warrant. And dozens more residents have stood atop overpasses waving signs demanding federal authorities withdraw. Protesters also directed their anger at Trump, arguing his administration is wrongly sweeping up otherwise law-abiding immigrants instead of focusing on convicted criminals as he promised.
Like several other people upset by Pretti's video-recorded death in broad daylight, Thompson wondered aloud about what happens in the shadows.
"We are angry. We are scared. And we are very sad about what happened," said Thompson. "It's absolutely terrifying to think about what's happening and what comes next."
The city is still recovering from George Floyd's death
The deaths of Pretti and Good have hit extra hard for those still mourning the death of George Floyd, who was murdered by Minneapolis police in May 2020 in a nearby part of the city.
Floyd's death sparked massive protests and civil unrest both locally and nationally, and prompted many communities across the country to reform local policing. Trump's deployment of thousands of immigration enforcers to Minneapolis has reopened still-healing wounds for some residents.
Tamika Garscia, 48, who works near where Pretti was killed, said she wishes people would offer more empathy and less judgment for their fellow humans. Garscia, who works at a nonprofit that aids migrants, said people are scared but remain optimistic.
She characterized Pretti's death at a potentially catalyzing moment in history.
"I think we feel defeated, but hopeful," she said. "It's been a setback, but it's also been fuel that's brought us together. And we really do that well here. We know that we're stronger together."
The eyes of the world are focused on this chilly place
In the parking lot adjacent to the Home 2 Suites hotel, where protesters had tried to force their way into the lobby the night before, Geri McKerlie and her husband loaded up their minivan for a three-hour drive back to Wisconsin.
The retired couple arrived in town Jan. 23 for a cat-show competition and were woken up overnight by protesters outside. They own four cats, including several Scottish Folds, “the kind Taylor Swift has,” McKerlie said.
The Home2 Suites next to their Hampton Inn was covered in red and black spray painted epithets and demands that ICE leave. The doors were locked to non-guests and at least one uniformed security officer was visible inside the lobby the morning of Jan. 26.
“Protesting is fine. The violence I don’t like,” McKerlie said as she supervised her husband, her breath steaming in the -5 degree morning. “When it sounded like they were down here playing drums I wondered if they were out there beating on cars.”
The couple said they had some mild concern about coming to the city during the ongoing Operation Metro Surge, and said they decided to stay in bed instead of coming outside to see the protest.
McKerlie said three of their four Havana Brown and Scottish Fold cats placed in the show, and they were relieved to be leaving Minneapolis following the Jan. 24 shooting of protest attendee Alex Pretti.
“Illegals should be removed but ICE shouldn’t be going into churches and schools,” McKerlie said. “And ICE is making it worse- they need better training. They think of protesters as insurgents. They come at them with that attitude.”
