Following the invasion of 3000 ICE officers,
everyday Minnesotans are pouring into #rapid #response networks and scouring their neighborhoods
—even in 20-degree weather before the sun has come up.
“I’m being tailed by a car I think is ICE, I can make out two masked individuals through the tinted windshield,” someone says.
The call goes quiet for a few seconds. “I’m being pulled over.”
Dispatch chimes in:
“Stay unmuted, turn down your volume so they don’t hear the call,
everyone else please stay on mute.”
We hear banging, then something shatters.
“ICE just smashed their window,” our driver explains calmly,
decelerating ahead of a red light.
We are shocked, but this is a regular occurrence. Everyone on the call keeps their cool.

We have heard stories from rapid responders about ICE tailing them,
boxing them in,
smashing their car windows,
pepper-spraying them,
holding them at gun point,
shooting out their tires,
detaining them.

Some responders have been taken to the regional ICE headquarters, the #Whipple building.
Others have been driven to the other side of the city
and thrown out of the vehicle, alone in the cold.
Their cars have been left running in the road.
The responders tell us all these stories in passing, quickly returning focus to the work that is to be done.
Of course, ICE has done worse than this, too.
ICE agent Jonathan Ross shot and killed #Renee #Good as she was trying to drive away.
A week later, as ICE agents were pursuing someone, they shot live ammunition at a house with a family in it, hitting #Julio #Sosa- #Celis in the leg.
But when you ask patrollers what they want people to know about what’s happening in their city, they barely mention the broken windows and bruises.
They describe the feeling of connection and solidarity filling the streets.
They make ❤️hearts with their hands from car to car, they blow kisses.
They make dinners for one another, they drop off groceries for undocumented families that have been locked inside their homes for weeks.
They tell us about how, when a skirmish broke out on a busy road,
an entire café full of people stood up as one, dropping what they were doing to run towards the sound.
We hear again and again about their deep love for the community in the Twin Cities and for their neighbors.
Every day, people who never imagined themselves fighting ICE are participating in bold combative actions
https://crimethinc.com/2026/01/21/from-rapid-response-to-revolutionary-social-change-the-potential-of-the-rapid-response-networks

Following the invasion of 3000 ICE officers,
everyday Minnesotans are pouring into #rapid #response networks and scouring their neighborhoods
—even in 20-degree weather before the sun has come up.
“I’m being tailed by a car I think is ICE, I can make out two masked individuals through the tinted windshield,” someone says.
The call goes quiet for a few seconds. “I’m being pulled over.”
Dispatch chimes in:
“Stay unmuted, turn down your volume so they don’t hear the call,
everyone else please stay on mute.”
We hear banging, then something shatters.
“ICE just smashed their window,” our driver explains calmly,
decelerating ahead of a red light.
We are shocked, but this is a regular occurrence. Everyone on the call keeps their cool.

We have heard stories from rapid responders about ICE tailing them,
boxing them in,
smashing their car windows,
pepper-spraying them,
holding them at gun point,
shooting out their tires,
detaining them.

Some responders have been taken to the regional ICE headquarters, the #Whipple building.
Others have been driven to the other side of the city
and thrown out of the vehicle, alone in the cold.
Their cars have been left running in the road.
The responders tell us all these stories in passing, quickly returning focus to the work that is to be done.
Of course, ICE has done worse than this, too.
ICE agent Jonathan Ross shot and killed #Renee #Good as she was trying to drive away.
A week later, as ICE agents were pursuing someone, they shot live ammunition at a house with a family in it, hitting #Julio #Sosa- #Celis in the leg.
But when you ask patrollers what they want people to know about what’s happening in their city, they barely mention the broken windows and bruises.
They describe the feeling of connection and solidarity filling the streets.
They make ❤️hearts with their hands from car to car, they blow kisses.
They make dinners for one another, they drop off groceries for undocumented families that have been locked inside their homes for weeks.
They tell us about how, when a skirmish broke out on a busy road,
an entire café full of people stood up as one, dropping what they were doing to run towards the sound.
We hear again and again about their deep love for the community in the Twin Cities and for their neighbors.
Every day, people who never imagined themselves fighting ICE are participating in bold combative actions
https://crimethinc.com/2026/01/21/from-rapid-response-to-revolutionary-social-change-the-potential-of-the-rapid-response-networks