ICE supervisors find unexpected resilience in suburbs

Last Tuesday, Dray Solberg found himself pursued by federal agents driving erratically through the northern suburbs of Minneapolis. At least four SUVs had agents riding their bumpers and checking their brakes on suburban streets and highways.

During the chase, Solberg told another ICE observer over a Signal call: “I think they’re trying to run me out of the way.”

On a four-lane highway, two federal SUVs collided in front of Solberg and another observer, who were checking in customers outside a nearby mobile home park. The SUV suddenly hit its brakes, bringing traffic to a halt in both lanes of the highway.

One of the federal SUVs then turned on its emergency lights.

Solberg’s first motivation was compliance. But when another observer in a car behind him saw masked agents carrying tactical gear pouring out of an SUV, both observers thought about how Alex Pretty and Renee Judd were killed by federal agents last month.

When the emergency lights were turned off, Solberg said other volunteers urged them to leave.

“We realized we could handle the violation, and we could handle going to prison at some point,” Solberg said. “But we were unable to deal with the very real risk and high possibility that we would be injured, arrested or killed.”

A video shared with MPR News confirms Solberg’s account. ICE did not respond to a request for comment on the incident.

Elizabeth, who asked that her first name be used to avoid retaliation, was in another surveillance vehicle at the stop.

After ICE agents finally stopped chasing the monitors after more than 20 minutes, Elizabeth said she and Solberg pulled into a parking lot and got out of their car. They had only known each other for a few weeks, but they hugged and cried.

Footage of residents resisting federal agents while honking sirens and honking has become a common sight for Minnesotans. But most of the videos that have gone viral come from the state’s urban centers in Minneapolis and St. Paul, where people live closer to each other and can interact more quickly.

As federal agents spread across the state, Twin Cities suburbanites who oppose ICE have adapted these tactics to their own sprawling and sometimes isolated communities. In doing so, they say they found purpose, connection, and resilience they didn’t expect.

Few signs of “withdrawal” in the Twin Cities suburbs

The apparent stop on the highway was not these observers’ first encounter with dangerous behavior from federal agents.

Elizabeth has been volunteering as a lookout in the suburbs since Judd’s murder. A little more than a week ago, she looked out the front window of her house to see an unfamiliar SUV on her husband’s side of the driveway. There was a white man in the driver’s seat.

The SUV started up as Elizabeth started recording.

When she called police, they took a report and told her the South Dakota SUV’s license plates belonged to a different car model. Swapping license plates has become a signature for federal agents During increased immigration enforcement, though, the state’s driver and vehicle services have been warned to stop the illegal practice. Other observers reported Agents use private citizen data To follow them to their homes

“It wasn’t that they even knew who I was, this is my home,” Elizabeth said. “All I was thinking about was if they were trying to get into the house or if they got into the house or if I needed to leave — I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

Border Czar Tom Homan spoke of “removing” federal agents last week after President Donald Trump sent him to the state to replace U.S. Border Patrol Chief Gregory Bovino, who was reportedly demoted after presiding over weeks of federal proceedings in Minnesota that included the fatal shootings of two civilians, Renee McLean Goode and Alex Peretti.

Elizabeth and other suburban observers interviewed for this story said they had not seen federal agents ease up on their activities since Homan’s arrival. In fact, they noticed more federal agents on the roads, and agents went from simply taunting spotters to aggressively pursuing them or using dangerous tactics to try to corner them on suburban roads.

“I think they are angry that we won and that the country is rallying around us,” Elizabeth said. “We are very organized and act with integrity. They do not want to admit that they feel threatened by us.”

Patrols in the suburbs

ICE surveillance is different in suburbs than in cities, observers said. There are fewer observers spread out over a much larger area. Many ride alone. Monitors keep their distance from customers and remain in their cars, unlike cities where monitors are often seen on sidewalks or streets.

They said it had more to do with soccer moms than hardcore activists. But difficult circumstances brought them closer together. After knowing each other for only weeks, they feel they would sacrifice their lives to protect each other if necessary.

“I feel like that’s one of the unique things about patrol in the suburbs, it’s not like it’s in the city, where there are dozens of patrollers as soon as ICE shows up,” Elizabeth said. “We’re alone. There are two little women in our cars.”

Michelle, a mother of three who asked to reveal her first name to protect her family, said that for several months she felt like she was drowning, like she couldn’t trust anyone. Participating in the suburban ICE probation community has been life-changing, she said.

“I feel like our whole lives as Minnesotans — I’m not sure if America feels that way — but it’s always like, ‘Don’t even start this kind of thing because you have to live around these people,’” Michelle said. “I feel like it’s gone away in me personally, I don’t even care if I ruffle feathers.”

This year, Michelle decided to be more active in the issues that matter to her. Part of it is in honor of her brother, a 20-year veteran who died unexpectedly last year.

“He was convinced that Mexicans and transgender people would be targeted,” Michelle said. “I was more in favor of: ‘We have to be calm, it will only be four years.’” “Now I have to eat my words because we’re seeing all of these things unfold, and everything he was always talking about has happened.”

“I don’t think I would do anything differently.”

Pretty and Judd’s killings greatly affect suburban police, who often monitor agents in vehicles themselves.

Solberg has had difficulty sleeping since federal agents pursued her on Tuesday. They feel uncomfortable leaving their house or walking their dog. But they said they know the fear they felt is the same as many neighbors who worry about being dragged into an ICE experience every day, and they are committed to doing what they can.

The local police in their town said they could not help but Solberg could report the matter to the federal government for an internal investigation. They’re more committed to monitoring federal agents now.

“It feels like we’re really alone, and it’s just the community members supporting the community members, which is beautiful,” Solberg said. “It’s impossible to escape, and I don’t know if I’ll get out of this alive.”

Many suburban observers, most of whom are women, share this personality type, Elizabeth said.

“Many of us have faced bullies our whole lives,” Elizabeth said. “Over the last decade, we’ve watched other people get bullied, and I think that turns you into someone who, even if that bully is wearing full tactical gear, I’m not interested in giving up on you.”

Elizabeth shared a message with her husband, grandmother and sister: “If I get killed doing this, throw my body into the White House, kill me and raise hell. Don’t be sad. Don’t think I’ll do anything differently. I will do it over and over again – this is too important to sit and shut up and do nothing.”

Michelle said her husband is supportive, but concerned. Her oldest daughter had just learned about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at school.

“She just said, ‘Mom, this is something Martin Luther King wanted. He wanted everyone to love each other, and he would certainly be there if he were here right now,'” Michelle said. “Oh my God. You can get this when you’re 9 years old, which some adults don’t even get.”

“Show the world what’s possible”

Solberg said it’s nice to see all the different people in the suburbs starting to work together. Elizabeth said sharing it with other observers restored a little of her faith in humanity.

“As terrible and dark as this time is, we are showing the world at large what is possible when you focus on what matters and try to take care of each other,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t think of anything more beautiful than that.”

In the suburbs, known for their more moderate politics than major cities, observers said they could sense a shift in some of their neighbors. “In general, I love hearing people say for the first time, ‘Oh my God, this is not acceptable,’” Elizabeth said.

Michelle noticed this change in attitudes in her community on a recent day when she was called to help watch school buses drop off students.

“There was a woman on the side of the road screaming, so I stopped and said, ‘Are you okay? Did anything happen?” “She’s like, ‘I’m terrified that ICE is here, and I don’t know what to do,'” Michelle said.

“I say, ‘You’re here, you care. “You’re doing something.”